#the real question is which dark hunters do it

[downtofragglerock]

So its a pretty general consensus that after spherus magna is reformed, a lot of the dark hunters sort of...scatter 

It makes sense, a lot of them were really only there because of bad deals they couldn’t get out of, where actively being threatened, or just couldn’t leave because of the political situations/had nowhere to go, and the whole fresh start that a new planet offers is pretty enticing

The question is what they end up doing afterwards

sure plenty of people have their own ideas, but here’s mine:

A bunch of them form an acting/performer troupe

They basically become the muppets, except they’re all former mercenaries

[legobiwan]

So I find it a little odd that Mario shakes his brother's hand like he's trying to win political office rather than having just been rescued (again) from one of King Boo's paintings at the end of Luigi's Mansion: Dark Moon.

But then I was thinking - this might be a kind of instinctual response.

From what we can gather over the three games, being stuck in a painting isn't a passive experience, but one that is disturbing, disorientating, and mostly likely tantamount to torture.

And given King Boo's abilities, who knows what kind of environment he has dropped his victims into with these settings. The landscapes, you might say. There's no definite background in any of the trapped paintings, ghost or otherwise, but it does beg the question of what can be felt, seen, heard, or otherwise perceived by someone who is trapped in a portrait. Does the hunter create the cage, enrichment area and all, or are the trappings beyond the frame (inside the frame) more akin to being trapped within one's mind and all the pitfalls that could emerge from that?

We see three iterations of Mario being freed from the painting in each game. The first being total confusion and possible injury; the second looking like some kind of hallucination, given Luigi's concerned expression; and the third being a form of decorporalization (not a real word, but whatever), as Mario seems shocked to learn he has a body again.

The first might be attributed to King Boo's insistence of straight-up physical torture combined with E. Gadd's more medieval equipment, which had likely been less-than-tested in extracting someone from a portrait. (And if the de-portraiting process was that bad, imagine what it was like for the ghosts going in. No wonder they held a grudge. I love E. Gadd, but oh boi, is he the pinnacle morally ambiguous mad scientist).

Anyway, in the third installment, Mario definitely shows signs of having been disconnected from his physical form, perhaps meaning that his time inside the portrait reduced him to a neutered, mental representation of himself, incapable of fighting back in the real world. But this being said, he seems to recognize Luigi on-site, rushing forward to give him an enthusiastic hug, which is the reaction you'd expect after being freed from a pair of diabolical ghosts, one of whom is trying to thirst-trap the other through psychological torture.

So what's the deal with Mario's reaction in Dark Moon?

My guess is that King Boo trapped Mario in a painting that was a distorted reality, or perhaps a distorted version of Mario's own insecurities. It would account for the disorientation and the fact Mario comes out of the painting gladhanding his own brother like a stranger. (Which would also account for Luigi's concerned reaction - what the hell is my brother doing?)

And you figure, Mario, at this point, is a kind of figurehead, an idol, a hero of the Mushroom Kingdom. It's become his identity, it's who he is, it's what he does and is known for. Of course, part of this role is going around and shaking hands, being present - at least physically - at press conferences and speeches and all the like. The people need a focal point, a representation of their hopes against the violent and numerous incursions upon their land they suffer from outside forces (although in complete transparency, my personal headcanon is that Bowser's kingdom used to be comprised of at least a part of the Mushroom Kingdom, and that that land and sovereignty was stolen through a series of bad treaties by his father and some of the more malicious factions of the Toad Council, thus leading to both the enmity between the kingdoms and some serious economic and trade repercussions in the Darklands, but that's a whole other post.)

Mario must be so used to blindly shaking hands and putting up that front, that character, so much so that he doesn't even think about it anymore, and it's my theory that this is the version of Mario that emerges from the portrait in Dark Moon, perhaps having been wrested from some situation where this almost desperate attempt at approval was manifesting from Mario's own subconscious.

And poor Luigi. You have to wonder if one of his latent fears is becoming another empty face in the adoring crowd surrounding his brother. The Mario that emerges is not 100% connected to the fact he is Luigi's brother, it seems, is just putting on airs and the right words and actions as he may have been trained to do by the Toad Council. (Who, incidentally, are one of my favorite scapegoats in the series). Talk about a nightmare come to life.

It fits, in a way. Mario's first abduction results in physical harm, his second in mental, his third in more of a depersonalization - perhaps a rushed spell enacted by King Boo as he was, by the time of the whole hotel debacle, was far more preoccupied with his idea of trapping Luigi than enacting harm on anyone else beyond imprisonment. Because by the time Luigi's Manion 3 rolls around, King Boo is almost deranged in his obsession with Luigi, and I wouldn't be shocked if his non-existent heart wasn't into the nastier sides of portrait capture when it came to Luigi's friends and family. But oh boi, if he had captured Luigi in one of those paintings - good night, nurse.

[spaceclefairy]

Only You

You don't expect the Ghoul to hang around, but he comes creepin' back in around sundown every night. You're glad you remembered the Rad-Away.

Act I | Act II | Act III | Act V | Ao3 Compilation

You're stuck in Filly for the next few days while you sort out the raider issue with your agency. You assume “sorting it out” involves the agency terminating the raiders with characteristic violence and aplomb, but you don’t ask questions when you don’t want to know the answer.

There’s not a lot of lodging in Filly. In fact, there’s not much of anything. Ramshackle trader stalls, a few real stores if you squint, a radroach-infested motel, and a bar that most of the town seemed to frequent once the hour struck late no matter the day. At least the bar has enough open rooms to let you rent one for a few nights.

You hadn't expected the Ghoul to stick around, but so far, he continues to show up. He disappears during the day, then returns long after dark and crawls into the small barroom bed with you. You don't ask him what he gets up to during the day (you don't want to know), but you assume he's taking care of smaller contracts while he's out.

You've been spending your days at the agency hub taking down telegrams for contracts and sending out bids. It's mind numbing work when you're used to dealing with bounty hunters all day, but you've got to do something while you wait for the agency to give you the okay to go back home. You need money, and you’ll probably go nuts if you don’t keep yourself busy.

At least you've got the chance to see some old acquaintances at the agency hub. A couple of former bounty hunters who'd come through your office were now agents at the hub. They're alright, as far as wastelanders go; you hang around with them when you take breaks.

Today’s smoke break has more or less turned into gossip time. You’re happy to listen in on any and all gossip (it’s part of your job, after all) - it’s less enjoyable when the questions turn to you.

One of them, a woman whose teeth were file-sharpened into fangs (creatively named Fang), lives above the bar down the hall from you. She's good natured, if quite terrifying. She leans against the crumbling concrete wall of the hub, taking a drag on a little paper cylinder that smells suspiciously like burning catnip. “I saw that ghoul you came into town with last night. Is he staying with you?”

You nod slowly. “Yeah.”

You’re not inclined to expound upon her question, but she lives down the hall from you. She’s obviously seen the Ghoul creeping into your room at night (he’s not exactly quiet, either), hence the question.

The other, an individual with - conversely - no teeth to speak of (again, creatively named Gums - fuckin’ wastelanders), chimes in. “You're staying with a ghoul?”

“Yeah-”

Fang interrupts you. “And not just a ghoul. The Ghoul.”

“The Ghoul? As in…” Gums raises a sparse, flakey eyebrow. You nod, and they whistle. “Nice. How'd you bag that?”

“Longtime client,” you reply simply. You don’t know Gums as well as you do Fang, but they seem harmless enough. “He got caught in the gunfight when the raiders showed up at my office.”

You neglect to tell them he'd started the gunfight. The less they know, the better.

“Not bad. You could do worse,” Fang observes. “Does his dick look like the rest of him?”

You nod. “Yep.”

Gums grins. “Cool.”

Your break turns into playing hooky the rest of the day, mostly because you don’t want to field any more questions from anyone who’d seen you walking around with the Ghoul. You make yourself scarce for the rest of the day, choosing to wander around town. You haven't been to Filly in years, not since you were a kid. It hasn't changed much. There's still the same derelict bars, saloons, and stores. There's more than one bounty agency here, too, though you don't know which ones. You're only concerned with yours.

Sundown slides over the town by the time you head back over to the bar for the night. Everyone’s locked down and boarded up their places of business, the street vendors have all scattered. You know that Filly after sundown is not a great place to be, but you can hold your own if the need arises.

You're in the mood for a drink tonight, and frankly, there's nothing else to do in Filly after dark that won’t get you shot. When you step into the dingy bar, you make your way up to the bartender and grab a beer. It’s watery and gross-looking, but it smells like beer and you can’t be picky out here in the wasteland.

When you turn around to find somewhere to sit, you spot the Ghoul watching you from a back corner of the bar. You're surprised he’s back by sundown - he’d been rolling in late into the night, long after the moon had risen into the sky. You take your beer and skirt around the chairs and tables littering the bar. 

He cocks his head and watches you approach. He's got a half-full beer mug in one hand - evidence he's been back for a while. He doesn't give you a chance to grab another chair when you reach him. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you down into his lap. 

If you didn't know how much booze it takes to affect a ghoul, you'd assume your Ghoul was drunk, but he's not. He just doesn't seem to care that the few patrons of the bar have their eyes trained on the two of you. Of all the things you expect him to be, possessive is not one - or maybe he is possessive, and this is his warning to the other patrons. You don't care which, and you’re not inclined to give it further thought. Rather, you're distracted by his hand squeezing the top of your thigh.

The Ghoul takes a drink of his beer and rests the glass on your knee. “Any word on the raiders?”

“Other than, it's being handled, no,” you reply. You force your brain to focus away from his hand on your thigh. You don’t want to admit to yourself that’s all it takes for him to get you going. “My agency isn't exactly forthcoming about what goes on behind the scenes.”

“No, they're quiet about how dangerous they are, and they like to keep it that way,” he agrees. He pauses, and grins slightly. “Kind of like you. You're a hell of shot with that rifle.”

Compliments from him are few and far-between - forward compliments at least. He’s far more show than tell. You’re… flattered, actually, that he’s paid attention to you beyond just physically. You know he has, but it’s nice to hear it.

Again, you suspect you may actually like the Ghoul.

“Can't be a bounty agent if you haven't been a bounty hunter before,” you shrug. “I've had plenty of practice.”

He takes a drink of his beer, and says, so, so quietly, “Ditch the agency and come with me. Be a bounty hunter again.”

You raise an eyebrow. He's not serious, surely. 

“I like what I do now, Cooper,” you reply softly. “But my door's always open.”

He nods. “Fair enough.”

The Ghoul returns to people-watching in silence, sipping on his beer and continuously making you more and more nervous with his hand on your thigh. He's taken to rubbing circles into your thigh with his thumb, and he keeps getting closer and closer to the space between your legs. He's not being even remotely inconspicuous, either. More than one person in the bar has caught on to what’s going on in the back corner, if the odd looks you’re getting tell you anything.

You don't try to make him stop (you don’t think you’re capable of asking him to stop), but you do lean back against his shoulder and press your lips to his ear. “You're gonna do this here?”

He looks you dead in the eye. “I'll fuck you right here in this chair with every single person watchin’.”

Yeah, no, he's serious on that one. You can see it in his eyes. Actually, you can feel his dick pressed against the back of your leg, too. 

You blink. “We should probably go upstairs now.”

He chugs the rest of his beer, then pats your leg, motioning for you to stand up. “Should have already gone upstairs.”

You don't disagree. In fact, you don't think you could have stood up any faster. 

The Ghoul looks you up and down with that grin on his face before following you up the stairs. You don't quite make it back to your room before he’s grabbing at you by the waist and pulling you close. He traps you against the wall, body pressing down on you, completely irreverent of anyone walking down the hallway behind you. You grab his face and kiss him; his raw skin is chapped, but soft and cool against yours. The brim of his hat knocks against the top of your head, but you don’t care. 

You scramble to find your door key in your back pocket and only just manage to get your hands on it. You can’t quite manage to get the key in the lock, so he takes a break from what he’s doing (grabbing your tits under your shirt) to take it from you and jam it into the door.

The Ghoul kicks the doors closed behind him with the heel of his boot. The force shakes dust from the walls and kicks dirt up from the floor. With a single-mindedness that takes your breath away, he backs you up to the tiny bed shoved up against the back wall and drops down to his knees.

He strips your pants and underwear down your legs, then prompts you to sit down with a hand on your stomach. As much as you like when he tries to have a little patience, you like it this way more - sloppy, breathless, a little desperate for you. A starving man eating his first meal in days. 

With a tug, he drags your hips over to the edge of the bed and sets to work with his tongue. You prop yourself up on your elbows to watch and busy yourself picking open the buttons of your shirt with shaking fingers. You shrug out of your shirt, leaving yourself completely exposed. He hasn't even taken off his hat yet, but you take care of that for him and drop it onto your head.

The Ghoul looks up at you and pauses his ministrations, licking his lips in thought. 

You shrug. “The hat was in the way.”

He doesn't respond, choosing to set his mouth back to better purposes, but he keeps his eyes trained up on your face while he sticks his tongue in your cunt. He's sloppy about it, spreading your lips with his gloved thumbs so he can get better access to you. You buck up against his face, and he doesn't stop you - no, he buries his tongue deeper between your legs and lets you ride his face, all the while still looking up at you with those bright hazel eyes.

Finally, it hits you, and you grin like you've won the damn lottery. “You like me wearing your hat, Cooper?”

He nips your inner thigh with his teeth, making you jump, and sets back to sucking your clit. You take that as a warning not to tease him, but it's so much more fun to know his mouth is too full of you to tease you back.

You don't stop teasing him, knowing full well it's just going to rile him up. “Why don't you come up here so I can ride your face properly, cowboy? I've got the hat to fit the part.”

The Ghoul has had enough of the gloves obstructing his ability to feel your skin. He stops long enough to strip them off, stick a finger in his mouth to coat it with his spit, and press his finger deep into your entrance. You choke on the fullness, the sensation rough but not unwelcome.

“Well, don't get quiet on me now,” he says. 

You stutter, but he can absolutely understand you when you say, “I like riding your face when you're on your knees, too.”

He spreads you apart and licks you, slow and deep, chasing the path of his fingers. He watches you while he does it, eyes never leaving yours. “Is that right?”

You nod. “Sure is.”

You lean over where you sit, where he's still on his knees on the floor, and unbutton his shirt. You expect him to tell you to stop - there's more light in the room this time, after all - but he doesn't. He shrugs his duster and shirt down over his shoulders and lets them hit the floor. This time, you can really see what he looks like. Raw, pitted skin, mostly red but pink-white in places where old scars have healed over time and again, build slight but still muscular. He seems to be waiting for you to pull back, recoil away - stop in your tracks. You grab his face and kiss him, then pull him to his feet.

 You pull him closer by his belt before that comes off, too. Boots and pants next, dropped carelessly to the floor. You take a minute to look and touch, run your hands over exposed skin, and he sighs softly at your touch.

“Look at you, Cooper,” you say. “Aren’t you a sight?”

“You are fuckin’ strange,” the Ghoul comments, but it’s with affection. His version of affection, anyway.

“Yeah,” you shoot back with a grin, “but I don't hear you complaining.”

You take his cock in hand and run your tongue along the vein underneath, making him twitch. You swallow him down, fisting what doesn’t fit in your mouth, until he’s threading his fingers through your hair and pulling you off of him.

The Ghoul deems that to be the extent of what he can take from you. You’re on your back with him crawling over you before your brain registers that he’s moved. He smashes his lips down over yours while his hands creep up along your sides. He wastes no time reaching between your legs and running the head of his cock along your slit. Not for the first time, you marvel at how much you prefer the roughness over his attempts to be patient.

You’ve teased him long enough, you decide, so you wrap your legs around his waist and arch up against him. “Come on, Coop -”

He obliges and thrusts into you, planting one hand next to your head for leverage. The other hand catches your chin and holds you steady while he fucks you. You meet his eyes, and the way he watches you - like it’s a privilege to touch you - makes you ache.

You nudge him with your hip until he rolls on his back. You slide him back inside, hissing at the returning fullness, and grind down on him with your hands on his chest. He wraps his hands around your thighs, squeezing so hard you're sure you'll find new bruises come morning.

You like watching him from up here. The way his jaw clenches, when his head lolls back in response to whatever you're doing, the way his mouth parts in a semi-attempt to say your name or give you direction - it captivates you. You like when he’s speechless - when he can’t pull himself together long enough to tease you.

The Ghoul can feel your hips stutter when you move, grinding down harder each time for any little extra bit of friction. His thumb finds you clit and presses circles into you relentlessly, letting you use the palm of his hand to find the friction you need.

“Go ahead,” he says, breathless, “come on my cock, babydoll.”

You do, with a hand on his chest and the other hand on his wrist, holding him close and steady. It rolls down your back, down your thighs, all the way out to your fingertips, like the wasteland air burning underneath your skin. Your nails bite into his wrist, and that makes him smile - a real grin, not the smug skeleton grin you’re used to getting from him. You return it.

When the Ghoul comes, he wraps an arm around your back to keep you steady and holds you flush against his chest. You sigh at the touch of his skin against yours, his chest pressed against yours, your nipples prickling against him. You take it as he comes, grinding down on him when he fills you up. You wrap your arms around his neck and bury your face into his shoulder, teeth grazing his raw skin. 

The usual question of radaway? doesn't come this time. You’re not concerned, and neither is he; the dose you took that morning would still be enough.

The Ghoul scoops you up into his side when he’s come back to his senses and rolls you onto your back. You wrap your arms around him and trail a finger down the back of his neck, just barely scratching at his skin with your nails. He burrows his face into your soft chest (the lack of nose is helpful in this regard) and closes his eyes.

After a few minutes, you say, “You know, I’ve liked you since the first time you walked into my office.”

The Ghoul glances up at you before closing his eyes again. “Can’t imagine why.”

“You were all business,” you reply. “I respect that.”

The Ghoul is quiet for a while, long enough you think he’s gone to sleep, but he answers. “Weird way to tell someone you like ‘em.”

You snort. “I’m trying to be nice, dickhead.”

You can feel him grinning against your skin. “Well, baby, that’s on you.”

You shake your head and roll your eyes. “I’ll kick your ass out of this bed.”

“Sure you will,” he replies. “Just remember that when you roll over and grab me like you did this morning.”

[novelconcepts]

There’s a line from American Gods I keep coming back to in relation to Yellowjackets, an observation made early on by Shadow in prison: “The kind of behavior that works in a specialized environment, such as prison, can fail to work and in fact become harmful when used outside such an environment.” I keep rotating it in my head in thinking about the six survivors, the roles they occupy in the wilderness, and the way the show depicts them as adults in society.

Because in the wilderness, as in prison, they’re trapped—they’re suffering, they’re traumatized, they’re terrified—but they’re also able to construct very specific boxes to live in. And, in a way, that might make it easier. Cut away the fat, narrow the story down to its base arc. You are no longer the complex young woman who weighs a moral compass before acting. You no longer have the luxury of asking questions. You are a survivor. You have only to get to the next day.

Shauna: the scribe. Lottie: the prophet. Van: the acolyte. Taissa: the skeptic. Misty: the knight. Natalie: the queen. Neat, orderly, the bricks of a new kind of society. And it works in the woods; we know this because these six survive. (Add Travis: the hunter, while you’re at it, because he does make it to adulthood).

But then they’re rescued. And it’s not just lost purpose and PTSD they’re dealing with now, but a loss of that intrinsic identity each built in the woods. How do you go home again? How do you rejoin a so-called civilized world, where all the violence is restricted to a soccer field, to an argument, to your own nightmares?

How does the scribe, the one who wrote it all out in black and white to make sense of the horrors, cope with a world that would actively reject her story? She locks that story away. But she can’t stop turning it over in her head. She can’t forget the details. They’re waiting around every corner. In the husband beside her in bed. In the child she can’t connect with across the table. In the best friend whose parents draw her in, make her the object of their grief, the friend who lives on in every corner of their hometown. She can’t forget, so she tries so hard to write a different kind of story instead, to fool everyone into seeing the soft maternal mask and not the butcher beneath, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the prophet come back from the religion a desperate group made of her, a group that took her tortured visions, her slipping mental health, and built a hungry need around the very things whittling her down? She builds over the bones. She creates a place out of all that well-intended damage, and she tells herself she’s helping, she’s saving them, she has to save them, because the world is greedy and needs a leader, needs a martyr, needs someone to stand up tall and reassure everyone at the end of the day that they know what’s best. The world, any world, needs someone who will take those blows so the innocent don’t have to. She’s haunted by everyone she didn’t save, by the godhood assigned to her out of misplaced damage, and when the darkness comes knocking again, there is nothing else to do but repeat old rhymes until there is blood on her hands just the same.

How does the acolyte return to a world that cares nothing for the faith of the desperate, the faith that did nothing to save most of her friends, that indeed pushed her to destroy? She runs from it. She dives into things that are safe to believe in, things that rescue lonely girls from rough home lives, things that show a young queer kid there’s still sunshine out there somewhere. She delves into fiction, makes a home inside old stories to which she already knows the endings, coaxes herself away from the belief that damned her and into a cinemascope safety net where the real stuff never has to get in. She teaches herself surface-level interests, she avoids anything she might believe in too deeply, and still she’s dragged back to the place where blood winds up on her hands just the same.

How does the skeptic make peace with the things she knows happened, the things that she did even without meaning to, without realizing? She buries them. She leans hard into a refusal to believe those skeletons could ever crawl back out of the graves she stuffed them into, because belief is in some ways the opposite of control. She doesn’t talk to her wife. She doesn’t talk to anyone. It’s not about what’s underneath the surface, because that’s just a mess, so instead she actively discounts the girl she became in the woods. She makes something new, something rational and orderly, someone who can’t fail. She polishes the picture to a shine, and she stands up straight, the model achievement. She goes about her original plan like it was always going to be that way, and she winds up with blood on her hands just the same.

How does the knight exist in a world with no one to serve, no one to protect, no reason propelling the devastating choices she had grown comfortable making? She rechannels it. She convinces herself she’s the smartest person in the room, the most capable, the most observant. She convinces herself other people’s mysteries are hers to solve, that she is helping in every single action she takes. She makes a career out of assisting the most fragile, the most helpless souls she can find, and she makes a hobby out of patrolling for crimes to solve, and when a chance comes to strap her armor back on and ride into battle, she rejoices in the return to normalcy. She craves that station as someone needed, someone to rely upon in the darkest of hours, and she winds up with blood on her hands because, in a way, she never left the wilderness at all.

How does the queen keep going without a queendom, without a pack, without people to lead past the horrors of tomorrow? She doesn’t. She simply does not know how. She scrounges for something, anything, that will make her feel connected to the world the way that team did. She moves in and out of a world that rejects trauma, punishes the traumatized, heckles the grieving as a spectacle. She finds comfort in the cohesive ritual of rehabilitation, this place where she gets so close to finding herself again, only to stumble when she opens her eyes and sees she’s alone. All those months feeding and guiding and gripping fast to the fight of making it to another day, and she no longer knows how to rest. How to let go without falling. She no longer wears a crown, and she never wanted it in the first place, so how on earth does she survive a world that doesn’t understand the guilt and shame of being made the centerpiece of a specialized environment you can never explain to anyone else? How, how, how do you survive without winding up with blood on your hands just the same?

All six of these girls found, for better or worse, a place in the woods. All six of them found, for better or worse, a reason to get up the next day. For each other. And then they go home, and even if they all stayed close, stayed friends, it’d still be like stepping out of chains for the first time in years. Where do you go? How do you make small choices when every decision for months was life or death? How do you keep the part of yourself stitched so innately into your survival in a world that would scream to see it? How do you do away with the survivor and still keep going?

They brought it back with them. Of course they did. It was the only way.

[techs-goggles9902]

Soft!Crosshair and fem!reader please

Maybe with something about his hand tremors?

Why did you wait for me? - Soft!Cross x fem!reader

REQUESTS OPEN FOR ALL LISTED FANDOMS. READ TERMS BEFORE REQUESTING ON MY MASTERLIST

Word count: 767

Warnings: none? Lmk if I missed something

A/N: Hey, I really wanna know who these anons are or if they’re the same person so I can thank you for these requests!!!! Sorry if this feels rushed or anything. I will happily rewrite it next week if requested. I’ve been sick since Sunday and I feel like trash :P

Ever since he came back, he’s been… off. His calloused fingers, his eyes, his voice, all once so familiar, now somewhat foreign.

But he’s your Crosshair, he always comes around. You’re his girl. This is no different. Right? And, he always comes back. It’s only been a few hours since the Marauder landed on Padu’s upper level, your home, at the crack of dawn. You were roused by that familiar chime on your comlink.

What the hell, Hunter, you thought when you woke. Couldn’t he wait a few more hours until your alarm went off?

He couldn’t, which you now know.

You met the batch while they were on leave a few years back, fell in love with that tall, lanky sniper of theirs. Once Order 66 happened, Hunter advised you to come with them since Crosshair wasn’t the man you met anymore.

You found Pabu, where you settled down while the boys didn’t. Could you blame them, though?

“Stop staring at me like that, Cross,” you say as you cook him breakfast in your warm kitchen, feeling his gaze dig holes in the back of your head as he sits at the island.

“I’m sorry… I just can’t…” he pauses, swallowing. “I can’t believe you actually waited for me.”

“How could I not? You’re you. No matter what Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum say,” You turn, about to scrape the eggs onto his plate when you see his watery eyes. Those dark irises that usually pierce into people’s souls now desperately gaze into your own.

“I… I did a lot of bad things. Why do you still love me?” He whispers as you slowly put down the pan of eggs. You step around the island to embrace the sniper, his face buried into your sternum.

“Shhh… You didn’t have a choice, back at Tantiss.” His shaky hands lock around the fabric of your shirt. He doesn’t make any sound, just lets the tears stream down his narrow face, catching on his stubble.

“That doesn’t answer my question, love.”

You sigh, cupping his tear stained face in your soft palms. “I loved you during the war, loved you when you left on missions, I loved you when you joined the Empire. This is no different. You’re mine, I’m yours.”

His eyes widen ever so slightly as he gazes up at you, for once.

“How ‘bout we get some food, real food, in you and then we’ll talk?” You softly ask, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Yeah… Yeah, okay.” He nods and you let him go to slide the eggs onto his plate. Watching him eat, you see the muscles working in his jaw as he chews, his temporalis bulging with each bite.

You haven’t seen him since… Kamino. You begged, pleaded for him to join the batch. You remember how he declined and begged for you to join the Empire, they’ll understand, he said.

He finishes eating and you scoop up his plate, turning away to put it in the sink. When you turn around, he’s gone off to your bedroom. You follow, thinking, I bet he hasn’t slept in a while. I mean, really slept.

He stops in the doorway of your room, turning back to you. He quietly asks, “Can I…”

“You don’t need to ask me for anything. What’s mine is yours.”

You sit against your headboard, his head in your lap. Before, you used to card your hands through his silver curls. Now… You make due with caressing his growing follicles, careful of his lumpy, dented scar.

His hands tremble as they lie against your knee. You tap his fingertip.

“Are you scared?” You ask.

“What? No, why?”

“Your hands.”

“Oh… It just came one day.”

“Tell me… What happened?” You tenderly take his shaking hand in your own and you run your fingers over his too-short nails. Hemlock must’ve had them cut so he wouldn’t claw someone’s eyes out.

Poor Cross… Hemlock’s dying for this.

“You remember the shadows?”

“Mmhmm. The clone assassins.”

“He… Hemlock tried to recondition me into one… I was tested…” He doesn’t have to finish his explanation.

You’re quiet for a beat before you say, “I’m sorry, Cross…”

“Don’t be. You couldn’t do anything.”

“You know, a friend of mine has tremors, too. We can try exercises to… help cope, if you’d like,” you say, pressing your thumb pad down onto his knuckles for a gentle massage.

“I’ll give it a shot, love,” Crosshair says, rolling onto his back to look up at you.

“I love you, Crosshair.”

“I love you too, riduur. You’re my girl.”

Riduur = spouse in Mando’a

Taglist: @will-is-silly @fionajames @sevdidntdie @dangraccoon @skellymom @hellhound5925 LMK IF YOU WANT TO BE ADDED OR TAKEN OFF TAGLIST

Dividers by @ saradika

[chaliceofthescales-if]

Sector 7, or Schai, depending on who you are. An otherwise barren dry desert on which nothing grows with a busy bustling tourist city as its main focus. A city of indulgence, excess, and sin, the shiny glittering lights hide the dark truth behind the City of Wonders. Many will do anything to get out of the gutter and different groups often take advantage of that. So when two strange people approach you, offering a lifetime's worth of payment for protecting someone and going to find a special cup that may or may not actually exist, who are you to say no?

Chalice of the Scales is the first book in the Turnwheel of the Twelve Saga. It will be a shorter smaller game with the total amount of words read during each play through being about 40k, which is about the size of a novella or 80 pages front and back in a real book. It's inspired by different sources including Dungeons and Dragons and JRPGs/RPGs. The focus will be mostly on storytelling and adventure, but romance will also play a rather big part. While it leans more towards storytelling, there will be a decent amount of stat-based gameplay/mechanics as well.

You play as a Sector 7 Bodyguard for Hire. That means you're poor as dirt. You're approached by two mysterious hooded figures who offer to pay you a lifetime's worth of money in exchange for you to protect your Charge and find the Chalice of the Scales. You, obviously, accept thinking it's an easy job. Turns out, it's anything but. Now you have to create a group to set out and the Scales' Relic, which hasn't been seen in over 1000 years, while also trying to make sure no one dies.

Genre: Adventure, Romance, Fantasy Post-Apocalyptic

Rating: 18+

Tracked Tag: #chalice of the scales

Status: In Development (Writing)

Demo || Romance Options || FAQ || Ask Guidelines || Tag Navigation || World Lore || Current Anonymous Survey Form || The Full Saga || Dev's Main Blog ||

Create and customize your bodyguard for hire. Choose their gender, pronouns, appearance, and personality and more.

Protect your Charge and make sure he isn't killed or kidnapped by the assassins after him while trying to find the lost Relic.

Explore Sector 7 of Astelle, also called Schai. Traverse dry barren deserts, smog filled cities, and the Great Divide on your quest.

Do research and follow leads to find out where the Chalice is located. Fight back against Relic Hunters and other groups to safely deliver the Chalice to its Warden.

Romance any of your 6 companions: Merlion - Your Charge, Astor - The Guardian, Elise - The Cleric, Bran - The Relic Hunter, Korone - The Navigator, or Starling - The Assassin.

Build your relationships with others in the group and find out their stories. A good relationship with someone may unlock different choices during gameplay.

One final question... Where is the Warden?

Merlion Corwell (he/him) - Your Charge. Two mysterious hooded people paid you quite well in advance to protect him and find the Relic. A fairly easy job, in hindsight. Now if only he would stop wandering off and getting into trouble.

Astor Wryth (he/him) - The Guardian. A real-life Guardian, like from the legends. Structured and well-put together, he's very adept with his abilities as a Guardian, but is very out of touch with his Warden.

Elise Fairthing (she/her) - The Cleric. A sweet and energetic Cleric who decided to join you on your quest after you crash her trip. She possesses a decent amount of knowledge and history about the Twelve.

Bran Noire (they/them) - The Relic Hunter. A shoddy Relic Hunter who let themself get captured by you. Rather irksome and arrogant, they're bold, loud, brash, and are, unfortunately, a fantastic shot.

Korone Noire (they/them) - The Navigator. A stoic and Machiavellian Navigator who knows the land of Schai like the back of their hand. Despite being quiet and thoughtful, they are somehow related to Bran.

Starling Rhise (she/her) - The Assassin. A woman once your enemy, now your (reluctant) ally. Calm and intelligent, she possesses an adventurous spirit and a grudge that won't go away anytime soon.

[crusty-chronicles]

Airheaded S/O Headcannons #10: Kurapika (HxH)

He is completely dumbfounded by you

Like how did you end up working for the Nostrade family?

How did you even manage to become a hunter?

You have to be faking, right?

I mean nobody just loses Neon's new diamond earrings.

Nobody just trips and takes a whole countertop with them. (Marble countertop if he may add)

Nobody just forgets they can use nen?

"What's your ability?"

"Sometimes if I squint real hard, I can see in the dark."

"Your nen ability????"

"Oh! Don't remember!" 😃

Finds out you are in fact not faking

It kinda reminds him of Leorio

But at least Leorio could read and doesn't have the attention span of a goldfish.

Sometimes he swears he can hear your single braincell rattle around in your head when someone's shaking you in their frustration.

It worries him why you were hired to be a bodyguard

Mainly because the Nostrades had been very thorough selecting candidates.

And you were here before his team got selected.

So Kurapika has a hunch.

He'll make Melody ask you questions and check your heartbeat for lies.

And every ridiculous answer you gave was true

Which irritated him a little

He didn't want a braindead idiot to get in the way of his goal

Buuuuut his opinion of you changes for the better after his fight with Uvogin

He came back feeling defeated, even though he won

The blood on his hands was icky and he had gotten no information out of the ordeal.

The only thing he left with was an even worse hatred for the Phantom Troupe.

The very same people who didn't remember they had massacred an entire clan.

He arrived at the hotel when mostly everyone had left.

Everyone except you and Melody.

He eyes were still that scarlet color, not bothering to hide them.

Then he felt arms wrap around him and went to lash out, wanting anything but to be touched right now.

Except his movements stopped completely

And he became completely calm and relaxed.

"Your eyes are really pretty like this, but I don't like you mad. Just calm down a little, okay?" It was you.

And why had you said that to someone you barely knew?

Why were you trying to comfort him?

And why had he let you?

He realized this was your ability: controlling emotions. Or at least altering them.

It was...nice

He hadn't been hugged in a while.

And yours was warm.

The scarlet at last fading away.

"Thank you for that... I appreciate it."

From then on he's seeking you out.

With melody, he has to be cautious with what he says.

He doesn't want to say anything that would frighten her or complicate things for himself.

But if he's talking with you, he could say just about anything and you'd listen.

You would have no clue what he was talking about, but you would be there.

And it was like talking to a wall

Except the wall brought temporary joy into his very dark and devoid world.

A bright light that couldn't be darkened no matter what thanks to your naivety.

And maybe it's endearing when you trip on air in public and say-

"I'm stumbling over my success."

Maybe it makes him smile when you ask about his nen chains and narrow it down to 'a portable prison.'

Maybe he does want you to fill the silence he's used to with ramblings about 'why vases are too fragile these days.'

He may like you, but his motive comes first.

His clan's eyes will always come first

However, he can't stop himself from indulging with what might be a happy future with you.

Especially after seeing you cave someone's skull in with one punch during a task from the Nostrade family.

He's so relieved that yes, you had great physical strength and a useful ability.

It means he'll let you follow him to fulfill his vengeance against the Spiders

He only babies you when it's something serious.

Like if you're about to chop your finger off while cooking.

He's running into the kitchen and taking the knife from you.

"Y/n, what do you have?"

"A knife 😃😃😃"

"NO!"

Or if you're about to get hit by a car because you saw something cool across the street.

He's using his chains to pull you back, and then proceeds to lecture you for the next ten minutes.

But anything else?

No. You can figure it out.

If you're lost, you'll find him eventually.

If you swapped out the pepper and salt, he's laughing, but hopes you learned your lesson.

You brought the wrong item at an auction?

Good luck explaining that to Neon and her father

Doesn't buy you fancy things because he knows you don't care about stuff like that.

Instead, he'll leave you little notes where he knows you'll find them.

He tried to take you to a nice restaurant for dinner claiming it was to 'Keep up the Nostrade's Appearances'.

It was just him being a little embarrassed to admit it was a date.

And you know what happened?

You two got kicked out because you kept breaking the fancy silverware and plates.

But it did make him laugh to see you try to hide the evidence under the table cloth

Calls you: my love, dearest, sunny, little clown, baby (derogatory), and if he's feeling playful-mighty warrior.

He has trouble communicating, so having a stable relationship is difficult.

But he tries, even if he's not there all that much.

Won't feel jealous, but instead a little insecure that you would get bored and leave.

Even if he knows you're a fool with a heart of gold and would never do that

It's just the part of his brain that has to consider every possible outcome.

But if the way your eyes light up every time you see him, even if it's just been five minutes, is anything to go by....

Then he has absolutely nothing to worry about.

Kurapika just hopes his pursuit of his clan's eyes don't scare you away or dim the light you bring with you.

UP NEXT: Monkey D Luffy

MASTERLIST

An: Sorry it took longer than usual, the fucking heat is draining and it makes me lazy 🫠

[mdhwrites]

What Were the Palismens' Point and Did They Succeed?

I got a really long ask that started with asking me how I would have handled the Palisman. For a question like that, I believe there are two core tenants that need to answer. The TL:DR though for this is that despite the Palisman having presence since S1, their point in the story is only made clear in S2 and then their point is useless except for Luz, weakly, because of how TOH defies normal genre convention, in a way that is very counterproductive, when it comes to character climaxes.

Anyways: The questions.

What is the narrative concept of the element we're talking about?

What is the point of the narrative element?

For the Palisman, this isn't clear until Hunting Palisman. Before then, they are glorified broomsticks with one episode acknowledging their agency but at the end of the day in S1: They're just glorified broomsticks. Hunting Palisman very clearly and bluntly states what their point is.

They are a physical manifestation of the witch's will and desires. You can only obtain one with a clarity of purpose and conviction. This is also the point of them: They are essentially character statements. The grand thesis of whoever that palisman is connected to. Honestly, as far as creative uses of magical items to present the culmination of a character, the palisman are...

Exceptionally stock standard. Like painfully so. Anyone watched a season of Power Rangers? Yeah, the Palisman are just the battlizer. If you watched Winx Club like... AT ALL past the first season, maybe even requiring that long, it is ANY of their power ups because they always come with a big character growth moment that defines who they are as a person. It is maybe one of the basic fantasy tropes out there to have self actualization be a power up.

And this isn't just me being hyperbolic. Even from their first introduction, it is presented as a part of a witch growing up. That the school grants witches their palisman but that Luz will have to earn hers. Once she does, she has a loyal companion and the ability to fly. Even at Hexside, you still have to reach certain age to get a Palisman. They're not just giving them to kindergartners. The show itself, by all accounts, says this is explicitly what they are. It's even why Hunter can have Flapjack like he does because the two are their most at sync the closer Hunter is to being Cale- Being the good person he always was. -_- Before then, during moments like Eclipse Lake, they are out of sync, just like he says.

There's just a small, tiny, MINISCULE problem with this concept. Barely noticeable so I'm probably making a big deal out of no- HOW DO YOU HAVE TWO CHARACTER CLIMAXES LIKE THIS IN THE SAME MINUTE AND THEN ONE OFF SCREEN!?

TOH has this weird aversion to character climaxes, at least traditionally paced ones. This is any episode focused on the ending of an era for a character. When a hero falls to the darkside, with the entire episode, or episode after the fall happens at the end of one episode, being about his fall to the darkness. When the scoundrel decides that there are indeed things worth more than gold and has to grapple with that. The end of Book 2 of Avatar spends a lot of time in its last couple episodes grappling with what is a character built up over the entire season: Which side of Zuko wins out for his future? This is balanced with Aang's character climax with the guru with asking questions about how much Aang is willing to give up to the job of the Avatar instead of being the free spirited, loving kid he's always been. A LOT of time is given to this.

TOH hates giving time to ANYONE who isn't Luz. Very few people get real character climaxes of this sort of variety. Willow essentially never gets one and Gus never gets one. You could Watching and Dreaming and Labyrinth Runners specifically but those episodes aren't about self actualization. A VERY common thread with character climaxes is a choice the core character has to make in order to make things right. Meanwhile, in both episodes, HUNTER is the one to make the choice and actions to fix the problem. It is not about self actualization that then prompts a better, more refined character... It's honestly just one problem of the character amongst many like most kid's show episodic issues. This is ESPECIALLY true for these two because Gus' having this level of confidence issues has never been a thing. The closest to ever come to it is the Human Society episode and, well... That happened like a season before Labyrinth Runners with MAYBE one more hint at the S1 penultimate episode from the orb giving him a pep talk. Otherwise, he has confidence. Willow's is worse because she's NEVER taken on others burdens like they talk about. The stories they tell do not sound like Willow at all and Gus, her best friend, has NEVER called her 'Dependable Willow' before now. It has all the hallmark fingerprints of a long running kids show retconning elements to have a plotline this episode. You know, during the season that was SHORTENED.

And this is without recognizing that their palismans have NOTHING to do with either episode, at any time. They are absent from being a part of their self actualization and why shouldn't they be? They already bonded and obtained their power up back in Hunting Palisman. Both made declarations and received a palisman for it because... What the fuck?

This is the core of why when I saw the initial question, I kind of went "I can't do them better because they're pointless besides giving the fandom Patronus stand ins for OC creation." They don't do jack shit.

Amity gets this THE WORST. She makes her palisman off screen, before the shortening took effect, and we only get told what it was... As a part of comforting Luz. Her character thesis, the embodiment of who she is, her will made manifest and it's used narratively to try and comfort her girlfriend. The words actually don't matter because a character climax should not just be words. It should include action alongside it. A showing of their character alongside them telling you, if they tell you at all.

This is also why Luz's character climax blows on this front. Not only is it not well built up to (I despise Luz's character climax) but it also doesn't have action behind it. It's a big statement before she... Just shows off Stringbean to her friends and then gets ready to go fight the Collector? What does that have to do with Luz? What does that have to do with 'wanting to be understood'? It's not even like her goal is to show the Collector understanding now that she's figured this part of herself out. As far as we can tell, her goal was to kick the Collector's ass right up until the Collector tried to show he was an uwu baby, please ignore the murder stars and the fact that I actually know the consequences of my actions (he KNEW King would hate him for the dreams and so is shown to have understanding of his actions upsetting people) and yet did them anyways. Obtaining Stringbean is meaningless besides the meta context of "She just like me fo real" for the people who identify with her.

All of this because TOH won't commit an episode to just finishing a character's arc, or even part of it. I have LONG been complaining about how Escaping Expulsion IS a character climax for Amity but she's in like a collective four minutes of the episode. It is the complete refusal to continue to be who she was. To be willing to throw away even her family in the pursuit of her own happiness and desire to choose her own future. For her to be such a small part of it centers her motivation on Luz because she hasn't had enough time to explain or put focus on why she doesn't want to be who she has been. It's always just on "I wanna be with my friends." or "I want to protect Luz." or "Luz and her friends make me happy." As such, the motivating factor being Luz's life being in danger doesn't make it feel like Amity self actualizing, it makes it feel like a young lesbian throwing away everything for someone she has known for like two months. That what matters is not her character but just that this is another step towards Lumity for her. That's not exactly great, is it? Especially not with how much they want Odalia to shoulder the burden of the fact that Amity CHOSE to be pure evil to Willow for YEARS. For her to be cast off so easily... Well, it just doesn't hit right. Not like it should for a climax like this.

Almost every character climax in the show suffers from stuff like this. Eda's big farewell in Agony of a Witch? She's in like four minutes of it and barely spends time with Luz so we never get that deliberation before Eda chooses to lose her life. It can't even be said that the season built up to it because Luz and Eda haven't had a plotline together since Adventure in the Elements. At best? Grom. And Grom doesn't exactly help build up how deep their connection is, does it?

And so how would I do the Palisman better? I'd just remove them. They are not used for the purpose they were built for and the show doesn't do the elements they're connected to in a way that would ever work for them. They have no point besides being cute and marketable but otherwise? They're entirely superfluous.

Which is a pretty shitty thing to say about something that's meant to represent the best your character can ever be. See you next tale.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

[cerastes]

I’m thinking of how, in OpRec 2, Laurentina knows she has very limited time as herself before her brain deteriorates and she loses her reason again and becomes the “Specter” again. She has few precious hours as herself after years of being trapped in her own mind due to the experiments and the insane amount of pure liquid Originium Amaia and Quintus injected directly into her spinal cord.

She uses a bit of this time to spend it fighting a battle alongside Misery (who insisted she doesn’t need to help him but definitely welcomed the aid since apparently the situation was pretty bad), because in fighting, she can remain useful, in her own words. Skadi insists she hurry back to Rhodes Island, to which Specter says it’s pointless, because equipment on the surface simply cannot help her, only keep her alive, so she takes her sweet time fighting alongside Misery, and Skadi and Gladiia (the latter reluctantly) join.

She allots some more of her time to having a proper talk with Closure, answering as many questions as she can, both about herself and about Closure, but mainly, what she wanted to say was “do not change the way I’m treated. You know me as Specter, you have protocols around the Operator Specter. Retain them. I have to go.”

She talks with a very concerned Skadi and an unflinching but still upset Gladiia, but she already had time with them on the way back. The final person she wanted to talk to before her brain gave out again? Doctor. Explicitly because she predicted Closure and Doctor may take more care on her handling, maybe remove her from combat operations in order to more closely monitor her condition. This is exactly what she didn’t want.

Because end of the day, Laurentina is a Hunter. She finds it difficult to speak as surface dwellers do, she finds it almost nonsensical, and so, she demands, “Keep me in the fight, Doctor. We do not need words, we need only you having a clear objective and me, my orders. If you put me in a bed and out of the battlefield, you are denying me the last shred of identity I can cling on”.

Because she couldn’t sculpt, she couldn’t sing, she couldn’t even control her own body, if she was even conscious. The only thing that she could do to cling to being who she was...

...Is to at the very least be pointed towards an enemy to fight them, and pointed towards an ally to protect them.

Skadi believed Laurentina had died prior to the events of the game because this isn’t the first time she had done this: In order for the 3rd Squadron to advance towards Ishar’mla, the 2nd Squadron, Gladiia and Laurentina’s, practically sacrificed themselves covering for the 3rd. 

She never blamed Skadi, and makes sure she knows it. She didn’t mind doing it again now, either. “Point me at the one I have to cut, put the ones I need to keep safe behind me, and give the order. Even if am completely lost in the darkness of my mind and madness of my heart, that, that will never leave me. That’s proof that I am Specter, that I am Shark, and that I am Laurentina. I, namely, I.”

As far as she knew, these were the last words she’d ever get out as herself. She used to make it very clear: “Do not deny me the only bit of purpose and identity I have left, because even if I am but a shell of myself, I’m still me.”

Of course, we now know that this was not to be her final fate, and she did manage to regain control, decisively, eventually, but... As far as she and Skadi and Doctor knew, at this point, this was really, really it. The briefest of encounters with the real Specter, on borrowed time. And her intent? To make sure she’s not left to rot in a medical room where she’s useless, gathering dust: “Put even more danger upon my share”. You know you are dealing with a seriously terrifying and strong person when they can confidently tell you (and have verifiably, so far, done as much) that even if it’s just a shell of her former self out there, she can and will never stop doing exactly what she’s good at, because otherwise, at that point, she truly has left the world.

[voidscreamintheories]

Kitten: Theory of a "Hunter"

Spoilers for Hunter The Parenting

So Kitten. He is our happy lil Br*tish hunter. He also is always wearing ski goggles, a sweater, and full face covering. Even in the one flashback image we have of him. As always we must acknowledge the DNA this series pulls from: Kitten was the Captain General in TTS, this is why he uses a spear with a gun and a stake at the end in HTP, it's a guardian spear by way of hunter. It was a running gag in TTS that his helmet was never removed, even all of his other garments were. Side tangent, 1. WHAT WAS SHE THINKING 2. I hope desperately Lockwarden and Santodes return in HTP, because both of those characters were immaculate and we didn't get enough of them. Side tangent complete.

TTS acknowledgement aside, let us consider what Kitten might be. In the audiolog between Kitten and Big D, kitten seems to question the existence of some supernatural creatures, like the witch. Yet two of them he is unphased by them being mentioned: The vampires, which makes sense as the family is hunting vamps and Kitten has fought a vamp (important later). And the werewolves. This is the sticking point to me: Kitten not only is unphased about the existence of werewolves, he in fact says "wait hang on you know about werewolves" to Big D. Now that's a might curious, why wouldn't Big D, master-hunter and well known supernaturalist know about werewolves, and even more so, why would Kitten know and Big D not?

My theory is that Kitten IS a were creature. But not a wolf. In World of Darkness there are a few species of shapechangers like the werewolves. The wolves are the most common, but the other kinds know of each other's existence as well. I propose that Kitten is a werecat. Not only this, I suspect Kitten is a specific kind of werecat, a metis (can someone who knows more about WoD tell me is this is pronounced Met-iss, a made up word, or May-tea, a real word for a real world group of people who this does not necessarily apply to). A metis (in world of darkness, not the real world ethno-cultural group) is a shapechanger born to two shapechanger parents. When they are born they come out in their warform, the half-human-half-animal "hollywood monster" form. These shapechangers often have malformations of some variety, and this can include very obvious animal features even in human form. Say for example, cat ears and fur. I think Kitten wears his ski stuff, and has ears on his hood because he is a lil catboy under that hood. As a werecat he would be familiar with the shapechanger culture and practices, he'd know about other shapechangers (notice in the black shuck story at one point he says "and it is [black shuck]" not "and it PROBABLY is", maybe because he actually knows who black shuck is?), and he'd be supernaturally strong. Perhaps even strong enough to overcome a vampire that just fed. Kitten describes his encounter with the vamp at college, with maybe a Ventrue or Torreador vamp (I think Ventrue because he was charismatic but had a need for a violent feeding), while these clans aren't the normal muscle for the vamps, they are stronger than humans. Yet Kitten managed to beat this vampire, even though he was hopped up on blood. I think our lil cat boy was using his own supernatural strength. Another thing mentioned around this story is the tragedy that befell Kitten's parents, which left him with the house. If they are shapechangers, there is the potential that Kitten killed them during his first change, a not uncommon occurence in Garou families. There's also the possibility that his parents were killed in the war that all Garou are fighting, or because they broke the litany (werewolf mascarade) by having a metis child.

Now. Problems. Both Grimal and Markus have cannonically "broken that boy". Now is Kitten a "sorry babe, the ski mask stays ON during sex" type gamer? Or do Grimal and Markus both know? Not sure! Grimal could probably be convinced he was just REALLY into cosplay, I bet. And Markus may have known about Kitten being a cat from their childhood, depending when they first met.

But! This lets me talk more about garou society as evidence for Kitten being a cat. In shapechanger society, a metis is often hidden from the public until they can control their form, so as to not give the game away on werewolves being real. Maybe Kitten was isolated as a child, making it harder for him to interact with other kids when he did eventually get his form *more* under control. Maybe in the time before he was allowed in public, he became a true gamer. Maybe Markus was one of the few kids weird enough to hang out with him. Maybe those lack of social skills brought him closer to Grimal when they first met, two strange weirdos with similar experiences (please Alfabusa don't make Grimal the ghoul, I don't want her to get Arcanum'd)

Also! The werecats have some characteristics in their culture that might explain why our lil cat friend isn't just vibing with the other werecats. Some of the Bastet (Bastet means werecat, Keikaku means plan) are VERY curious lil fellas. They seek out hidden knowledge and talk to other garou clans to learn their secrets all the time. Maybe Kitten became a hunter because of his in-built desire to be a gatherer of lore. This would also explain how he knows all these stories, and finds secrets in games. He just HAS to know these things. This would further explain why he is SO upset about being blacklisted, he wants desperately to be able to study and learn, but has been cut off.

In brief, I believe Kitten is a werecat and his lil sweater ears are not just a fetish thing. He joined the arcanum/our hunters because it's a great way to sate his innate curiosity.

Now something to consider, as many of us know, curiosity does have a certain reputation regarding cats...

[luxaofhesperides]

greener on the other side

Danny makes a habit out of hopping into portals and exploring he places he ends up. It just so happens that this time, he ends up in Gotham right as the Signal begins his patrol. Duke meets the strangest, funniest, cutest guy on the roof of the Gotham City Public Library. He knows Batman would not approve of literally anything he's doing, but sue him, he wants a meta friend and this guy seems to up for it. -- OR: how Duke and Danny got together despite having secret identities and living different dimensions.

chapter one: how it starts - 8.2k

also available on ao3! . . .

Sam would like Gotham is the first thing Danny thinks when he arrives. 

The city is dark and gloomy, the sky overcast and the chill of the wind indicates an oncoming storm. Dark buildings rise out of the ground, all dramatic shapes and ledges and honest-to-God gargoyles. Everything about Gotham is right up Sam’s alley, minus all the crime which Danny can hear from his perch on Gotham City Public Library. 

He never knows where his portals will spit him out, but all things considered, this is one of the nicer places he’s ended up. 

At least he didn’t walk out into the middle of an alley full of gun wielding gang members. Or into another cult hideout. Those are always unpleasant. 

Danny squints up at the sky, wondering what time it is. Usually, he can get a good idea based on the position of the sun, but with all the clouds, he can’t tell. It can’t be night yet; it’s not that dark out and the streets are a rush of activity that only comes about during the day. But it doesn’t seem like the afternoon, either. For a city this big, it would be a lot busier.

Maybe he dropped in during the morning rush? 

And if he did, that means he has an entire day to wander Gotham and scope out places that Sam and Tucker would like. 

im gonna be out all day, he texts to their group chat. It was barely noon when he left, sticking around long enough to eat and double check that his parents were going to be out all day for some biology conference. How they keep getting invited despite their own field of research, he’ll never know, but if it gets them out of the house, he’s certainly not going to complain.

Good or bad? Sam replies immediately.

Danny casts a look around again; dark and dreary city, a drug deal going down directly below him behind the library, distant yells and the occasional gunshot far off in the distance, barely audible unless he strains his hearing. 

good, he texts, gonna check out the rest of this place then bring u both to visit later.

Send pics!

He sends a thumbs up and a smiley face, then pockets his phone and stands up. Tucker’s probably still asleep, having knocked out at some ungodly hour of the night, so there’s no point in waiting for him to respond. He’ll just save all his thoughts about Gotham to share in person.

The library is located solidly in a busy part of the city. Danny could go anywhere from there, but without any knowledge of where anything is, he’s stuck, debating on where to go first and if he should risk outing himself as a tourist by asking random people on the streets questions. He leans forward, looking around the street below him to see what it holds; a few office buildings, two restaurants, three coffee shops and a bakery, and what looks like an occult store. 

Definitely one he’s going to avoid. 

There’s probably nothing in it that’s real, but on the off chance something does react to him…

Better not to try his luck and hope there are no ghost hunters in this dimension. After all, there’s no guarantee that his dimension is the only one with the Guys In White. There could always be another version of them waiting for him on the other side of his portals across the Infinite Realms. 

Just as Danny starts singing eenie-meenie-minie-moe under his breath, trying to choose which street to follow, he hears the soft thud of someone landing on the roof. 

The roof Danny is currently on, that regular people shouldn’t be able to access. 

He whips around immediately, tense and ready for a fight. He’ll have to hold back while he’s in human form, but not as much as he did in Amity Park. Perks of not existing in this dimension: if Danny wants to disappear completely, he can. 

“Hey, you good?” calls the… person? Whoever it is wears yellow armor. Not medieval or ancient armor, but something that resembles what he’d expect to see in a sci-fi action movie. Or maybe Power Rangers. There’s a bat figure spanning across their chest, like an emblem, which probably identifies whoever this is, but Danny is lacks any and all context and knowledge to know who, exactly, is joining him on the roof of the library.

“Yeah?” he responds hesitantly. “I’m good. Why are you asking?”

The yellow armored person walks closer, steps careful and measured. “I saw you all the way up here and got worried. This isn’t a place people usually hang out, you know?”

What? Did he—

Oh. 

The pieces click into place and Danny shakes his head.

“I’m good! Really! Sorry about worrying you, I wasn’t about to jump or anything. I just like being up high.”

“Alright, cool. Good to know.”

“So… who are you?” 

They start, look down at themselves, then look back at Danny. “You don’t know me? Sorry, you wouldn’t ask if you did. I’m the Signal.”

“The Signal? That’s… kinda a weird name. No offense or anything!”

Signal laughs. “Nah, I get it. Comes with the territory though, you know? Though people are pretty used to it these days.”

Danny very much did not know, but wisely chooses not to admit it. “So what’s with the get up?”

“It… keeps me safe? I’m not going to be patrolling in my pajamas, as much as I would like to. Safety first, and all.”

Patrol? Danny looks closer at the Signal, taking in the armor, the bat emblem, the helmet and how his eyes are covered. He’s hiding his identity, not just dressing up for fun. He probably should have figured that out sooner.

“You’re a hero!” Danny says, pointing at him. 

“Yeah, I am,” Signal confirms, bemused smile on his face. “Are you not from around here? I get that I’m not very well known outside of Gotham, but most people are able to clock me as a hero pretty quickly.”

Danny laughs nervously. “Haha, yeah, something like that. Don’t really have heroes back home. So do you have powers or something?”

On the outside, he’s keeping cool. He’s being so chill and normal. 

On the inside? Danny is close to freaking out. A hero! An actual hero! Who came to check up on him because he’s probably saved other people who have tried jumping! Danny is meeting his first legitimate hero who saves people; there are no heroes in Amity Park, and Danny himself barely counts, because the focus there is to fight ghosts more than it is to save people. 

But the Signal is here to help people. As a hero.

That’s so fucking cool. Danny needs a selfie with him immediately to have proof to show once he tells Sam and Tucker about this.

“Oh, this and that,” Signal answers, “I can’t really give out the details for my own safety. Sorry about that.”

“That’s fine dude, I should have thought of that before I asked.”

“I will say that I can see more things than the average person. Comes with being a meta, I guess.”

There’s a word Danny doesn’t know. Asking would probably raise some red flags about him and Danny does not want to ruin his first official meeting with an official hero by asking strange questions. The casualness with which Signal had said meta points to it being common knowledge in this dimension. 

Danny can figure it out with context clues. Probably.

“Oh, cool.”

“Yeah, so can I ask you something?”

He tenses without meaning to. He’s ready to run. Questions are never anything good, not in his experiences, and if he goes now, he can probably avoid Signal for the next few hours while he explores. 

“Sure,” he says, against his better judgment.

“Are you a meta? Because you’ve got this sort of… glow. It’s really bright actually, which is how I found you.”

Danny looks down at himself to check that he isn’t partially ghostly. He is just as human as he was at the start of the conversation. No unusual glowing happening at all. 

“A glow?” he repeats.

Signal nods, looking him over. “Yeah. And it kinda looks like there’s two of you. Like someone took a negative of you and overlaid it on your body. Your hair is white and your eyes keep changing between green and blue. So: meta?”

He can’t answer. His throat is closing up. Panic is beginning to build. 

Danny has gone so long without people discovering his identity as Phantom and Signal can just see it?! 

“Woah, hey, calm down man. I’m not gonna out you or anything,” Signal tries to reassure. “I just wanna make sure you’re alright. Are you running from someone?”

No. Not as long as his parents never find out about him. He forces a shaky smile on his face, taking a step back. “Nah, I’m fine. And, sorry, but I can’t tell you why you’re seeing that. You understand how important secrets are.”

“I do. Okay, one last question: what are you doing in Gotham?”

“Honestly? Sightseeing. I’m looking for good places to bring my friends to when they come visit.”

“I can help with that.”

“Don’t you need to fight crime or something?”

Signal shrugs. “I can multitask.” 

The casual answer startles a laugh out of Danny, and he relaxes. Despite all the questions, despite all the ways things can go wrong by associating with a hero that can see Phantom in him, he can’t help but trust the Signal. He’s been chill so far and isn’t pushing for answers. And Danny could use a guide to show him around Gotham.

“Yeah, alright,” Danny decides, “Lead the way, Signal.” . . .

They cross a good portion of Gotham by grapple. Meaning the Signal is carrying Danny as they swing between buildings, occasionally stopping for the Signal to either help someone on the street or point out a place Danny can take his friends to. 

It’s fun the first few times, then Danny starts getting uncomfortable with how each movement jostles him. Feeling the wind rushing past him while relying entirely on someone else to move is beyond strange and he finds that he doesn't like the feeling much.

I don’t exist here, he thinks to himself, I can just leave before I deal with any serious consequences. 

This is reckless, but Danny wants to be reckless. He wants to go all out and have fun traversing Gotham with the Signal. This isn’t his dimension and he’s spent his entire life since dying trying to stay safe despite everything going wrong, so he can be a little reckless. As a treat.

“Not that this isn’t fun or anything,” Danny says the next time they land on a roof, “But is it cool if I just fly?”

Signal stops from where he had been pointing out a new cat cafe that opened. “You can fly?”

Danny grins and floats up, just a few inches. The rush of weightlessness almost feels like fear, but he refuses to acknowledge it as such and shoves it deep into his chest where he’ll never have to deal with it again. 

“You can fly,” Signal says blankly. “Sure. Why not. People are going to notice and go looking for you, so…”

Danny goes invisible, then pops back into the visible spectrum after a few seconds. “I got it covered. Just lead the way, I’ll be right behind you.”

“This might as well just happen,” Signal mutters, then shakes his head. “Alright. Let’s head to Wayne Tower. If your friends are into STEM, that’s the place to go. They give free tours for the public too.”

Which sounds like the perfect place for Tucker. Danny makes a mental note to visit Wayne Tower first so Tucker can geek out to his heart’s content. 

The Signal jumps off the building, grapple shooting through the air. Danny lets invisibility wash over him then follows after, taking in the sight of the city below him. 

To think the Signal takes care of all of this… Gotham is way larger than Amity Park, and that invites a lot more problems. Ghosts are one thing, but human criminals are another entirely. The Signal’s got to be strong to be a hero in this city.

He’s going to comment on it when someone below them screams, “Signal!”

Immediately, they both change course and drop to the street, where a woman is pulled into a bus by her hair. Other passengers are looking out the windows, terrified and holding themselves carefully still as a group of people with extreme facepaint and guns take control of the bus.

“You ain’t getting us today, Signal!” one of them jeers, and the doors close just as the bus tears off down the street, knocking off side mirrors of parked cars and wearing between traffic dangerously. 

“Shit,” Signal hisses, and aims his grapple gun high. 

He might be a hero with powers, but it’ll be impossible to catch up with a speeding bus with just a grapple. Danny isn’t a hero here, he’s a tourist who should know better than to butt into other people’s business, but seeing people in need of help, people in danger, there really isn’t any other choice he could make.

“Come on,” he says, “I’ll give you a lift.” And he picks up the Signal before he can respond, covering him with invisibility as well to get a drop on the criminals, then takes off. He pushes himself, keeping a tight grip on the Signal’s armor so he doesn’t fall, and closes the distance between them and the bus in no time. 

“You good if I drop out on top of the bus?” he shouts over the wind in his ears and the frantic honking of cars on the road, dodging the bus. 

“Yeah, I can take it from here!”

Danny bites his tongue to keep from protesting. The Signal is clearly intending to stop the bus and save the passengers on his own, and he probably won’t appreciate Danny getting involved. Which is exactly why Danny isn’t asking for permission and is just going to jump into the fray while the Signal is distracted. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and throws the Signal at the bus. He stays in the air just long enough to make sure the Signal lands safely, startling every person in the bus. Two criminals shove open their windows and lean their upper bodies out of the bus, aiming their guns at where the Signal is trying to get onto the side of the bus to force his way in.

Without thinking, Danny moves, yanking the guns out of their hands, then grabbing the backs of their shirts to lift them fully out of the window. He ignores their startled yells and the gasps of the hostages as they watch two of their captors dangle in midair, seemingly held by nothing. He takes a moment to look around, then spots a pile of trash bags that will cushion their fall. 

Then he throws them at it and tosses the guns onto the roof of the building where the Signal can pick them up later. 

Two threats taken care of, Danny flies back to the bus, which is moving even more erratically down the road as the Signal tries to take control of it without getting any of the hostages hurt. 

“Get flashbanged!” Danny hears right before a large flash of light blinds him for a moment. 

Another face painted criminal goes falling out of the bus, rolling onto the street, rubbing their eyes. The bus door remains open; broken, based on how it moves wildly back and forth as the bus continues its chaotic journey down the road. 

The Signal is struggling. He’s holding off well on his own, but he’s one person trying to save a bus full of people. Danny phases in through the back of the bus, landing silently. He sees the Signal lift a hand and has just enough time to turn his face away before there’s another blinding flash of light. 

It distracts the first criminal in front of him, who’s hanging back from the fight. This one has a machete instead of a gun, which is good because a gun would have been way more dangerous in such close quarters. 

Danny knocks them out with a solid punch to the head, then kicks the machete under a seat. 

He makes his way up the bus, quickly taking out anyone in face paint, then grabs the gun of the last one and freezes it into a block of ice. The Signal doesn’t waste any time in shoving the unconscious body of the driver out of the seat and taking control, carefully pulling the bus over to the side of the road, flicking on the hazard lights, then puts on the brakes and cuts the engine. 

“Everyone alright?” he asks, standing to look over the passengers. 

They’re all pale and tense, but far more composed than Danny was expecting from a group of hostages. 

“We’re fine,” a woman says, who Danny recognizes as the one who called out for the Signal. “Thank you for coming for us. I’m so glad the Bats have you active during the day.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” Signal replies. “Go on out. The GCPD will be here soon.”

The passengers begin to file off, most stopping to give the Signal a quick thanks. It’s nice to see, though it leaves a bitter taste in Danny’s mouth.

He rarely ever gets thanks as Phantom. He’s given up his teenage years to keep ghosts from harming people and people from harming ghosts, taking responsibility for the pain his parents’ portal have caused Amity Park, and all he really gets is people insulting him or seeing him as just as bad as the ghosts he fights. Never any thanks, not from the town he saves.

It sucks to see how people can be nice to heroes in this dimension, but in his own they blame him for everything. 

The bus is empty when the Signal look at him. He looks directly at Danny while he’s invisible.

That’s… not great. It’s a good thing the Signal isn’t his enemy, or Danny would be a lot worse off, having to dodge someone he can’t hide from. 

“Thanks for the help man,” Signal says, “You get hurt?”

“I’m fine.”

“Let’s get out of the street. Follow me.”

He walks off the bus and waves to the passengers one last time, then shoots his grapple. Danny hesitates for a moment, considers escaping, then follows the Signal up to the rooftops because he really does want to see Wayne Tower so he can bring Tucker over. 

The Signal is watching him approach when he gets to the roof. It’s unnerving, which is saying something considering the fact that his life is now a sci-fi horror story on bad days. And he’s had a lot of bad days. 

“Can you actually see me?” is the first thing he asks, unable to keep the question to himself.

“Kind of. It’s more like I can see a very blurry light moving around.”

“Huh.”

“Can you go back to being visible, though? I don’t want to be squinting at you while we talk.”

Danny looks at him. “I wouldn’t even be able to tell that you’re squinting, with the helmet and all.”

“Okay, fair, but I’d still feel better if I could see you properly.”

Well, there’s really no reason to refuse the Signal. He’s been nice so far, and he’s not even yelling at Danny for being irresponsible or reckless or anything. It’s already a decent start to the conversation. He owes the Signal this much, at least.

He lets his invisibility fade away, joining the visible spectrum once more.

The Signal looks him over, stepping closer to spin Danny around, checking him over for any injuries. Then he steps back, satisfied, and nods. “Sorry about that, I just had to double check to make sure you’re not hiding any injuries. Do you want to rest up here for a bit?”

Huh. No reprimand at all. 

“I was expecting you to yell at me for getting involved, honestly,” Danny admits.

The Signal laughs. “Oh, buddy, I absolutely do not have a leg to stand on when it comes to that. No yelling rights at all. You clearly had a plan in mind, have good control of your powers, and you never once impeded me. Everything got taken care of easily thanks to you. Besides, I’m not one to turn down help from someone who knows what they’re doing.”

Now that implies a hell of a story that Danny probably won’t ever get to hear. Which is a shame, because honestly? Danny wants to know as much as he can about the Signal. This guy is his new number one hero and Danny is ready to be his biggest fan.

“Glad I could help,” Danny says with a bashful smile. 

“Sorry you had to get caught up in all that, though. Still up for seeing Wayne Tower?”

“Are you sure you have time for this? This place is filled with crime.”

The Signal shrugs. “That’s just Gotham, man. I’ll help were I can, but I also want to play tour guide. It’s nice being able to show someone the good parts of Gotham.”

This place is a disaster, full of smog and smoke and Danny keeps hearing gunshots that he tries very hard to ignore. But it’s clear that the Signal loves his city. It’s nice to see; Danny’s been wanting to escape Amity Park for years now, even before the Accident, and though he gives as much as he can to keep it safe, he doesn’t really love it. 

His parents have made things difficult for him with their reputation, and then with their constant attempts to hunt him down for experimentation. He’s tired of being around the same people, stuck with kids he grew up with and has too much history with. Sam and Tucker are the obvious exceptions, but he knows that one day they’ll all go their separate ways to learn what life is like without ghosts and Amity bogging them down. They’ll find their way to each other again, but they all know leaving is inevitable.

They don’t talk about it much, not out loud, but the itch to run away from Amity Park and experience the rest of the world is obvious. It’s why Sam looks at international volunteering opportunities, making resumes and cover letters for environmental organizations that are cleaning up pollution, or replanting forests, or creating buildings from recycled material. It’s why Tucker takes online class after online class to get certifications in as many things as he can before applying for universities all over the country, looking into scholarships and internships and job opportunities so he can support himself when the time comes.

It’s why Danny spends more and more time hopping through natural portals and exploring the Ghost Zone and stubbornly refusing to go home at all on the weekends. 

“Well,” he says with a shrug, “I’m down if you’re down.”

The Signal grins and claps a hand on Danny’s shoulder. “Good to hear. Keep up if you can!” And then he’s throwing himself off the building in such a reckless maneuver than Danny feels his half-dead heart stop before hears the Signal’s laughter and the sound of a grapple line being reeled in.

“Oh, it’s on!” Danny doesn’t waste another second and leaps into the air, his stomach dropping for just a moment before gravity looses its hold on him. Then he’s shooting through the sky after the Signal, eyes fixed on the yellow-clad hero. 

He only just manages to remember to go invisible, most of his focus on watching the Signal swing between buildings, heading towards a large building. From where they are, moving above the rooftops, Danny can see the ocean, the dark waters stretching out past the horizon. 

The Signal glances back to make sure Danny’s still following, and Danny takes the chance to put on a burst of speed so that he’s flying besides the Signal. 

“Are you sure you can keep up with me?” Danny teases, his grin sharp. Without having to worry about anyone seeing him, it’s easy to let go of some of his control and let his fangs sharpen until they’re easily visible. 

“Man, this is not a game you’re going to win,” the Signal replies. A sly smirk crosses his face, one that promises fun and trouble, and then he swings into the shadow of a church spire and disappears.

Danny stops short and blinks a few times, wondering if his eyes glitched out somehow. The Signal was literally right in front of him. Where did he go?

He squints and looks around, floating up idly to try and get a better look at everything around him. 

“Catch me if you can!” 

Danny spins, trying to pinpoint where the Signal’s voice came from. He flies up higher and strains his hearing, listening past the honking cars, the multiple conversations happening beneath him, the train in the distance going to its next stop…

He hears a click and the sound of a body moving quickly through the air. Danny follows it, flying around buildings. He closes his eyes, focusing only on what he hears, and chases after the Signal. The closer he gets, the easier it is to hear the mechanical whir of the grapple gun, his heartbeat, his footsteps against the rooftops and the sides of buildings as he keeps moving. 

It’s fun, this chase. Danny’s never experienced something like this before. There are no stakes, no dangers, no fear or panic. This is just two people dashing through a city for fun, using their abilities to blow off stress instead of fighting for their lives or the lives of others. 

The Signal is close. Danny cracks open his eyes and frowns when he still can’t see the hero. He listens closely and the Signal should be off to his right, just out of reach. 

No one is there when he looks, but who’s to say that Danny’s the only one who can go invisible? The Signal certainly didn’t share his powers, so maybe…

Danny veers to the right suddenly and reaches out to where the Signal’s heartbeat is loudest. He hears the hero yelp in surprise as Danny tackles him out of the air. It’s only his tight grip on the Signal, arms wrapped around his waist, that keep him from falling, but taking on the weight of an entire person—one who’s heavily armored, at that—leaves Danny off balance as he flies. It takes a few moments to correct it, then he’s flying up, heading towards the large building that, now that he’s close enough to see it, has WAYNE written across the side near the very top. 

He picks up speed and flies them up to the roof, circling around it once to make sure no one else is out there. With the coast clear, Danny carefully sets the Signal down and drops his invisibility.

“Got you,” he declares, a little breathless from the chase. He grins at the Signal and only remembers his clearly visible fangs after a long minute where there’s no response. “Oh, sorry. I know it’s kinda freaky.” He brings a hand up to hide his mouth, and the Signal snaps out of his daze to grab Danny’s wrist and pull his hand down.

“No, no, you’re good! Sorry, I was just caught off guard. No one’s ever caught me while I used shadows.”

“Shadows and light? You have some really cool powers.”

The Signal gives him a rueful smile. “You say that because you haven’t seen me struggle to figure out how to use them yet.”

Oh, isn’t that familiar? Danny can relate. He was a disaster after the Accident when his powers first kicked in. “Trust me, I know how hard it can be and I can guarantee that you’ll never do worse that I did.”

“Bet.”

“I can go intangible,” Danny says, leaning closer to the Signal. “I could not control when or where I went intangible for the longest time. I fell through my bed, the floor, my entire house and also once got my arm stuck inside a wall in the middle of a conversation and had to act like nothing was wrong. Man, I was sweating while we were talking. Spent the entire time trying to casually pull my arm out of the wall. Pretty sure they think I have uncontrollable muscle spasms now.”

The Signal bursts out laughing and it’s infectious. He can’t help but laugh with him, remember the disastrous first few weeks with his powers, desperately trying to play it cool and failing miserably while he and his friends panicked. It was awful, don’t get him wrong, but it’s also very funny now that he’s looking back at it.

“Oh man, I don’t think I have one as good as that. I mean, the closest thing I have to that is that I once accidentally blinded myself trying to change a lightbulb and fell off the ladder. My uncle thought it was hilarious that I lost a fight to a single lightbulb.”

“That’s the one thing no one ever tells you about having powers: how ridiculously embarrassing it is 90% of the time.”

“Cheers, bro, I’ll drink to that.”

He feels a little dizzy with how much fun he’s having, still trying to catch his breath from the chase and all the laughter that followed. Danny tilts forward, leaning his weight on the Signal who takes it easily, holding him up like this is normal. 

“Okay, okay,” the Signal says, taking a deep breath to compose himself. “Let’s get back to the tour of Gotham. Welcome to Wayne Tower. You can just go inside and sign up for a free tour, they have one every hour.”

“And the tour has a STEM focus?”

“Oh, yeah. Some of it is just the basic history of what Wayne Enterprises has done, how they’ve grown, what industries they’re involved in, that sort of thing. But they also have a visit to one of the R&D labs to show some of the new tech they’re working on. Right now I think the focus is on prosthetics and wheelchairs and walkers. And there’s also a lab for astronomy and space flight—”

“A lab for WHAT?” Danny yells, looking up so quickly he accidentally slams the top of his head into the Signal’s chin, making them both tumble away from each other, hissing in pain. “Oh, shoot, I’m so sorry. I just love space and I got too excited and I can not be normal about space—”

A hand comes up and two fingers press against his lips, cutting his embarrassed rambling short. Danny really hopes the Signal can’t see the blush growing on his cheeks as an actual, real life hero who is standing with barely two inches between their bodies, puts his fingers on Danny’s lips. 

It’s a good thing Danny’s already had his bi panic two years ago or else he’d be dying for real this time around. 

“Chill, dude,” the Signal says with an easy smile, “It’s all good. I can take a harder hit. And if you like space, well…”

“Well?”

“Pollution in Gotham is really bad, so you can’t see any stars until you leave the city, but the university’s got a pretty good planetarium. They’re recently gotten new holograms to show off 3-D projections of different galaxies.”

Forget Signal and how attractive he is, this planetary is all Danny cares about now. 

Tucker can have the Wayne Tower tour, and he’ll find something good for Sam too, but the planetarium is for Danny specifically. It was made with him in mind. He is going to be so unwell about it once he goes to visit. He might just move in and refuse to leave. 

“No way,” Danny breathes, and distantly notes how the Signal shivers when his lips moves against his gloved fingers. “Signal, dude, we need to go to the planetarium. Please. I will get on my knees and beg if that’s what it takes.”

“Woah, no need! I was going to take you there anyways, and if you come back maybe next week, I can get tickets for you. No need to go on your knees at all.”

The phrasing makes Danny pause. That was incredibly suggestive, but since Signal’s not bringing it up and moving right along, Danny will go with it and pretend he didn’t actually say that.

“Okay, okay. Maybe we can make that our last stop? If we go now, I am not going to leave for like two days. Is there like, a nice park or something to do with plants in Gotham?”

The Signal tilts his head and makes a considering noise. “There is the botanical gardens, but Poison Ivy tends to take it over when she’s not at Robinson park.”

“Poison Ivy?” Danny repeats. That’s a Rogue’s name if he’s ever heard one, but seeing as most of his Rogues are other ghosts he’s fairly friendly with these days or government agents, he’s sure that his expectations for Rogues is pretty skewed. 

“Yeah, she controls plants and used to do a lot of robberies, property destruction, and murder in order to protect the environments. She’s gotten a bit better over the last few years, but she’ll still tear down the buildings of companies who are polluting the river and shit.”

Murder aside, Danny can kind of respect it. Sometimes the best way to fight back against the government and morally corrupt companies is to burn everything down. Sam would definitely approve; he puts the botanical gardens and Robinson Park on his list of spots to visit with her.

“Can we go check it out?”

“You know what? Sure. If Ivy is around, I’m sure we can handle it.” The Signal steps away from Danny and heads to the edge of the roof. “Ready?”

Danny follows him and lets his feet lift up off the roof, hovering just over the edge. “Ready,” he answers, prepared to take off.

The Signal jumps, grapple gun reappearing in his hand from where he placed it before, and then he’s off, moving through the open air easily as if he’s the one with the ability to fly. Danny chases after him, going invisible again as they weave between the buildings, heading away from the absurdly tall buildings that make up what must be the busier downtown area of Gotham. They go over the train tracks and the Signal grapples onto a water tank just to jump off of it again, gaining way more air than a normal person would be capable of. 

It’s beyond fun, flying through the city with the Signal. The clouds block out most of the sky, but every so often a weak stream of sunlight breaks through and illuminates a few sections of the city. It’s nothing at all like Amity Park, far darker and ornate and dangerous, but he can’t help but be fascinated by it, wanting to spend more and more time exploring Gotham. 

The Signal stops his journey a few times to drop down onto the street to stop carjackers and muggers, leaving them bound and awaiting police pick up. The victims, the few who stick around, always thank him and see him off with a wave.

Jealousy is an ugly feeling and Danny’s feeling a little too much of it, watching how the Signal interacts with the citizens of the city he protects. It’s no surprise that Danny’s completely burned out on heroing these days, preferring to use his powers for mundane tasks or just for fun. He was certainly never as good a hero as the Signal is. 

But then the Signal grapples back up into the sky and gives Danny a smile and all his ire fades away. 

It’s better this way; Danny’s been ready to retire from the hero business for a year and a half now, and the Signal deserves all the love he’s shown and more. 

They cross what feels like half of Gotham before the Signal comes to a stop across the street from a building with a large glass dome on the top.

“Here it is,” he announces, “The botanical garden. The inside is where you can pay for entering, and then it goes straight to a display of local plants and insects, with an indoor garden, and then the outside is where the actual gardens are. There’s also a greenhouse in there but it belongs solely to Ivy now. She’s got an agreement with the owner of the garden to keep the place safe so long as she can use the greenhouse as she pleased.”

Danny pulls out his phone to snap a picture and texts it to Sam.

She replies with a string of exclamation marks.

We’ll visit it together next week! he sends, and Sam sends back a thumbs up and a green and black heart. 

“Okay, this is absolutely a place I’m visiting with my friends,” Danny says, sending Jazz a ghost emoji when her check-in let me know you’re okay text comes in, right on the hour. 

“We got places for your friends, so it’s time to show you the planetarium, right? You need a place you want to visit too.”

“Just point it out to me, because I can promise that as soon as I’m inside, I am not coming back out.” Actually, it’s highly probable that Danny will straight up lose all grasp on time and reality and just spend an entire week staring at holographic projections of stars. And seeing how he promised to have dinner with Sam and Tucker so they can all catch up on what they’ve been doing over the summer, he shouldn’t risk disappearing into the depths of the planetarium.

“Actually,” Danny says, “Can we skip the planetarium for today? I don’t want to lose track of time since I am going back home once the sun sets.”

“Sure, if that’s what you want. Any other things you want to see in Gotham?”

“How about best places to eat?”

The Signal goes to reply, and judging by his smile, he’s fully on board with the idea of scoping out Gotham’s hottest food spots, when he falters and turns away slightly. What little Danny can see of his face smooths out into something neutral.

“I’m being called back,” he says after a minute of silence. Danny cocks his head, wondering how he missed hearing someone calling for the Signal. Unless it was like a phone call, but wired through his helmet, which somehow blocked Danny’s hearing…?

Not a rabbit hole he wants to go down. He forcibly puts the thought out of his mind. 

“Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah, the other bats just want to talk to me.”

Bats. Bats?

Danny’s confusion must be visible because the Signal cracks a smile and says, “Man, where the hell are you from that you don’t know about the bats?”

Honestly, hell is a pretty decent description of where he’s from, but Danny’s not about to admit that. 

“Batman, the first vigilante in Gotham,” the Signal continues, “And he’s taken in a lot of others, including me. We’re all Gotham based but a few of us go and help out in other places, or start our own teams.”

“So you’re not the only hero here?”

“Not even close,” the Signal says, “I am the only one on the day shift, though.”

A day shift! Like a job! It’s so far from Danny’s own experience in trying to be a hero that he can be anything but impressed. “You’re the coolest of them,” he says, words tumbling out of his mouth before he’s properly aware of what he’s saying.

“Thanks, man. Even if you’re clearly biased since you’ve only met me.”

“I’ll stand by what I said even after I meet the others. Though I’m not sure I will, since I won’t be here at night.”

“Ah, well,” the Signal shrugs, “That just means I don’t have to share you.”

Danny feels like screaming. He wants to go out into space, scream, and burrow into an asteroid because he doesn’t know how else to process his feelings upon hearing that. Like, holy shit? Is this hero flirting with him? Is he into Danny? 

He needs back up ASAP. He needs Tucker and Sam and look over his interactions with the Signal and give him the verdict. 

“If you like my company so much, would you be up for doing this again tomorrow?” Danny asks, pushing his luck. If he can survive asking Paulina out as his partner to a dance even after his pants fell down in front of her, he can definitely flirt with the Signal. 

He’s got this.

“As if I would say no after how much fun we’ve had today. Come find me tomorrow and I’ll treat you to some of the street food you’ve ever had.”

“Cool! Tomorrow then.” The urge to say it’s a date is strong but Danny is stronger. For now. “You should get going before any of those ‘bats’ come to get you.”

The Signal offers a little two fingered salute, vividly reminding Danny of the fact that those fingers were on his lips, and then he’s swinging away, leaving Danny on the rooftop across from the botanical gardens. 

As soon as the Signal is out of sight and Danny can’t hear his heartbeat, he sinks down to his knees, hiding his face in his hands, and lets out an overwhelmed keen. 

He takes a minute to freak out over 1) meeting a hero 2) helping a hero save people 3) flirting with a hero! 4) securing a not-date with a hero. And then he pulls out his phone and frantically opens up the group chat to yell at Sam and Tucker.

danny: i think i died again bc WHAT THE HELL WAS THAAAAAAT

sam: It’s been two hours danny. What could you have possibly done

sam: Actually hang on you def do way worse in less time

danny: where’s tucker i want to talk to someone who WONT BULLY ME IN MY TIME OF NEED

tucker: can i pls eat lunch in peace

sam: No ♥️

danny: lol no

danny: anyways i met a hero and we flirted? i think?? i am fully prepared to marry this guy and idek his real name

tucker: do i need to give u another lecture on stranger danger

danny: no!!!! 

sam: How old even is this guy? If hes actually like 15 years older than you i Will decapitate him for going after you 🙂

tucker: dude just come back. U can tell us all abt this and let us laugh at u before dinner

danny: and then youll help me?

sam: Ofc danny, as if you’d be able to do anything without us

tucker: 🔼 😀

danny: be there soon!!

. . .

As much as they’ve had their rough patches over the years, Danny can say one thing with certainty: Sam and Tucker always tell him the truth. After everything they’ve gone through together over the past few years, from bullies to family troubles to ghosts and governments, they’ve learned to rely on each other and be as honest as possible. 

Which means that when they laugh at him, he knows they mean it.

“Seriously, guys,” Danny whines, hiding his face in Tucker’s pillow, “I am in distress! Help me!”

“I mean, it seems like you’re doing just fine,” Sam says.

“He had his fingers on your mouth.” Tucker cackles. “It’s so over for you.”

“At least this Signal guy is nicer that Valerie. I’m still not going to let him date you without meeting him first.”

“Sam!” Danny says, “Do not shovel talk a hero from another dimension. Don’t do that to me.”

She casually checks her nails, kept short but still fully capable of digging into flesh deep enough to draw blood. “Please, Danny, you know you can’t stop me.”

“Tuck?” he tries, hopefully.

“Nah, I’m with Sam on this one. We gotta meet him first, make sure he’s good for you, and then we’ll stop hovering and let you date in peace.”

Danny collapses back, bringing up the pillow to cover his face. He briefly considers suffocation as a reasonable way to escape this conversation, then decides that it would take too much time and they could always just take the pillow away from him anyways. “You really think I have a chance?”

He’s said it quietly, and with how the pillow muffles his words, he expects his moment of insecurity to fly by unnoticed.

The pillow is yanked away from him. Sam grabs his wrists and hauls him up to sit, and then Tucker whacks him on the head with his reclaimed pillow. 

“Hey! What the hell?”

“He should be grateful that you’re even giving him the time of day,” Sam says, a fire in her eyes. 

Next to her, Tucker nods so strongly Danny worries his glasses are going to fall off. “Based on what you’ve told us, he is absolutely into you. Neither of you have to do anything about it, since you’re from different dimensions, but he’d been stupid to say no if you ask him out.”

“Besides, you just met today. Give it some time. Crush all you want, but start as friends and see how that goes, okay?”

That’s… sound advice. 

Danny jumped straight to struggling with his very sudden crush on the Signal. But, as Sam said, it’s been one day. He’s got plenty of time to get to know the Signal and see if this crush is any deeper than just hero-worship and admiration. 

He won’t deny that he’s weak to someone strong being gentle with him, but honestly, if he wanted to swoon over buff people, he’d just go to a gym and ask if anyone would be available to help him. It’s worked in the past, it’ll work again. Even if the person who helps him ends up being Dash or someone else on the football team. 

That was a weird day. He’d totally do it again.

He sighs. “You’re right, Sam.”

“I always am.”

“Tucker, if you would.” With a grin, Tucker salutes him then biffs Sam over the head with his pillow.

They both ignore her offended shriek and Danny continues speaking. “I probably shouldn’t even be  thinking of a relationship right now. We’re about to go into senior year and send out college apps and all that. I can figure this whole thing out later. We probably won’t even see each other all that often.”

“But if there’s a chance, and if he makes you happy, promise you’ll go for it.”

“I don’t know…”

“Promise, Danny,” Tucker demands. One of his hands inch closer to Danny’s waist and he watches it with a wary glare. He knows Tucker isn’t above playing dirty via tickling to get Danny to do as he’s told. “Danny. Promise.”

“Okay, okay! I promise!” 

Tucker’s hand pulls away and Danny lets out a sigh of relief. It’s immediately followed by a yelp and his entire body flailing and falling off the bed as Sam, the traitor, jabs him in the side while he’s distracted.

“Just for that, I’m not taking you to the botanical garden in Gotham next week.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry. I’ll stop bullying you.” Sam eyes him, consideringly. “For now.”

“I am suffering from feelings and all you two do is laugh at me.”

Shaking her head, Sam reaches down to pat Danny’s shoulder. “There, there. You’ll survive this.”

“Besides,” Tucker adds, “No matter what happens, you’ve got us.”

“Yeah, I guess I do.” He doesn’t bother hiding his smile, knowing they can hear it in his voice anyways. 

Thinking over his time with the Signal doesn’t feel as overwhelming anymore. He’s gotten it off his chest, had his two best friends analyze it to the best of their abilities, found a new rhythm he can work with. His cheeks still flush red when he thinks about the Signal a little too long, but it’s a nice warmth, a promise that there’s something there, that he can see something that makes him happy outside of Amity Park.

He can figure out everything else later. He can get flustered over their not-date to various Gotham food trucks tomorrow, but that’s an issue for later. 

For now, he has a dinner to make with Sam and Tucker. For now, he’s got a quiet day in Amity Park where he can enjoy being with the two people most precious to him, and he can cherish every minute they spend together while the future draws closer with the promise to send them down different paths. 

They have now. They have summer and a visit to Gotham and a certainty that no matter what, they’ll be there for each other. 

And if Sam and Tucker tease him throughout dinner, citing his slow growing skills in making food that’s actually edible for normal humans, well, it’s not like he hasn’t earned it.

It’s not like he’ll need to cook much in Gotham. The Signal will make sure they don’t starve with his knowledge of the best food in the city. 

That’s just what heroes do, after all.

[brbsoulnomming]

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 6

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | AO3

The next time that Eddie sees Steve Harrington, the entire world has gone to shit. He has a broken bottle pressed against his neck and God, he's fucking terrified, half convinced he's going crazy and half convinced that some invisible thing is going to break him into pieces if he so much as closes his eyes and half convinced that Harrington is here to beat the shit out of him for Chrissy's murder and fuck, he doesn't want to die, he just wants all this to stop -

But they believe him.

Impossibly, they believe him, and they all act like this is old hat. This group that has no reason to be friends - the D&D nerd, the skater, the band geek, the jock, Jesus, add in Eddie as the criminal and they're a knock off Breakfast Club - they look at each other with world weary eyes and resignation, and then they all gear up and say let's go.

Easy as that. Just, the world is shit, the monsters in the dark are real, and the four of them sigh and unite together without question.

And then - yeah, they're on his side, and the food situation is a lot better than it was a day ago, and he's pretty sure he's not crazy, but aside from sporadic check ins, he's still very, very alone out here in the boathouse.

He can't sleep, he can't do anything to help himself - just like he couldn't do anything to help Chrissy - he's just a fucking wreck -

And then Jason Carver and his merry gang of freak hunters find him, and he's about ninety percent sure he's going to die out here on Lover's Lake.

But he doesn't.

Patrick McKinney does, floating above Lover's Lake just like Chrissy had in his bedroom, and this time when he hears the crunch of bones snapping it seems to echo even louder, all across the lake.

He shoots terrified eyes towards Carver, and for one stupid second he - he's almost relieved. It wasn't just him this time, bearing witness to something so horrifying. Someone else was here with him, someone else saw it too, and for an even stupider second he thinks maybe Carver will get it now, maybe he'll pull a Harrington and they can unite together against the monster doing this.

But Carver turns on him, clearly needing to blame it on someone he can see, and Eddie - well. Eddie's always been good at being the freak.

Good at running, too, and that's what he does again.

He spends a truly horrific night in the woods, terrified and alone and convinced every sound is Jason Carver or that thing coming to get him, more sure than ever that this is it, this is how he dies.

But he doesn't.

He reunites with the party, and tries not to let it show how fucking relieved he is - makes his dramatic entrance, all boisterous bluster, hoping none of them can see the fear in his eyes behind his wide smile.

The trudge back through the woods is as miserable as Eddie expected, but it's still worlds better than last night. At least now he's not soaking wet and cold and losing stretches of time to sheer terror.

At least now he's not alone, and he can distract himself by people watching.

Max and Lucas are walking together, clearly having some kind of serious discussion. Not quite an argument, he'd guess, though he can't hear what they're saying - a little lovers' quarrel, maybe? Probably, he concludes, when they separate, Lucas hanging back looking dejected and Max stomping off ahead.

He sees Harrington look between them, brow crinkled just a little bit in thought.

It isn't cute, Eddie reminds himself, and turns to watch Max instead. She's staring right at Harrington with a very clear fuck off vibe, and Eddie, drama magnet that he is, has to slow back a step or two so he can see them both.

Harrington turns his entire upper body towards her, walking without looking where he's going, which feels like a fucking recipe for disaster, but it just makes Max roll her eyes at him. Her eyebrows shoot up, and she pointedly flicks her gaze back in Lucas's direction. Harrington tilts his head, the bitchy are you for real expression that Eddie's moderately familiar with slotting easily into place.

Max sighs, her expression fading into something more sincere and shoulders dropping. She shakes her head at him, and this time her gaze lands on Lucas for a long, drawn out moment.

Harrington's already moving by the time she looks back at him, falling back to go join Lucas's side where he's kicking at pinecones as he walks.

For a moment, Eddie considers picking up his pace to go join Max, but she puts her headphones back on and hunches in on herself, clearly needing a few minutes alone. Normally, Eddie wouldn't involve himself in what may or may not be some freshman lovespat, but fuck, he desperately needs a distraction, so he keeps sneaking glances over at Harrington and Lucas. Whatever discussion they're having, it's clearly intense, but it still catches him off guard when Harrington suddenly plants himself in front of Lucas and forces him to stop.

Eddie stumbles to a halt, watching as Harrington cups the back of Lucas's neck and drags him in, leaning down to press their foreheads together. Lucas's shoulders hitch, like he's barely holding himself together, and Harrington gives him a little shake, sets them swaying back and forth for a moment.

Fuck, he shouldn't be watching this. This looks like it goes way beyond whatever on again off again thing Lucas and Max have going.

Of course, the second he has that thought, either something in the wind shifts or Harrington's voice picks up, because he can hear him saying, "This is not on you, you hear me? None of this is on you. And as the king of fuck ups, I'm something of an authority on the matter."

Eddie hurriedly lurches himself forward again, feeling ashamed.

A few minutes later, he sees Lucas walk on ahead, watches him connect with Dustin and Max to form a loose little trio. He expects Harrington to go up even farther, join up with Wheeler and Buckley, but he hangs back, all but falling into step with Eddie.

Huh.

"He okay?" Eddie asks, physically unable to stay quiet anymore.

Harrington sighs next to him, but it sounds sad, not aggravated. "They're just kids," he says, softly. "I keep hoping, you know, this time it'll be done, and they can just worry about the stupid stuff I did when I was their age, but-"

He gestures in a manner that Eddie takes to mean but all of this bullshit.

"I just wish the only thing we had left to talk about was why did you break up and how to get the girl and who didn't support who at what."

Eddie doesn't know what to say to that. The implication that a bunch of nerdy freshmen come to Steve Harrington for that kind of stuff - that he wants to talk to them about that, that he's the one they rely on - it'd been hard enough to hear coming from Dustin, but seeing it in action?

He's already had enough of his world view rocked in the last few days, he really doesn't need this too.

"He knows," Eddie starts, and then stops, unsure if this is so incredibly self centered of him - then pushes forward, because he keeps hearing none of this is on you and he feels like he needs to say it anyway. "He knows I don't blame him for the hunt the freak shit, right? That none of it's his fault?"

There's a flicker of surprise in Harrington's eyes, and then he's looking at Eddie all soft and warm like he did something right, something good, and oh, fuck. It shouldn't be anything, it shouldn't mean anything, but - God, what the fuck has Eddie ever done right in his life? The last few days have been nothing but reminders that he's a screw up, that he runs when people are in danger and leaves them to die, that half the town he grew up in believes he's capable of brutal, sadistic murder.

The last few days, he's been looked at with a never ending cycle of suspicion, anger, disappointment, pity, concern - and here Steve Harrington is, looking at him like he did something worth being proud of. It makes him want to go belly up, spread out and lay in it like a cat lounging in the sun.

Shit shit shit shit.

He does not want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he doesn't.

"He should," Steve says. "But he could probably use hearing it from you anyway."

"Right, yeah, of course. I'm just gonna-" Eddie waves up ahead. "Go. Do that."

He launches himself in what he hopes is actually the direction where Lucas is before he can make an even bigger fool of himself - though it's kind of too late for that, considering he trips over a fallen branch and only just manages to catch himself before he ends up face first in the leaves.

Eddie lurches and flings himself around, playing it up and making it look intentional as he slings an arm around Lucas's shoulders and shoots a wild grin at the little trio of freshmen.

"You ladies mind if I borrow Sinclair here for a minute? No? Excellent."

Max rolls her eyes at him and he can hear Dustin going, "ladies?!" as he drags Lucas off, but he ignores both of them. Lucas is so tense under his arm that Eddie drops it away from him once they've gotten a few paces away from the others, and then the kid watches him, eyes sharp and wary and wide.

It's not fear - not of Eddie, at least - but it's something close enough to it that it makes his stomach turn. He hadn't planned on what he was going to say before he just threw himself over here, and for a moment he panics a little.

"What you did was pretty awesome," he finds himself saying.

Lucas looks at him like he's not sure he heard him right. "What?"

"Yeah," Eddie says, gaining momentum now that he knows how he wants to handle this. "Sticking with those guys as long as you did to get info on their plans, using your survival knowledge to lead them off in the wrong direction? Very ranger of you, Sinclair. Guess I owe you one, risking yourself like that."

It's clearly not what Lucas was expecting, and there's a moment where his expression is pretty blank - Eddie's not sure if it's because he's trying to process what Eddie said or because he isn't going to accept what Eddie's doing, offering out this olive branch.

Eddie does what he always does when he's nervous.

He plays it up, raises his voice a little as he crows about having a ranger on your side as you trek through the woods, spinning it into a tale of bravery and throwing in enough exaggeration that Lucas finally laughs, shoving Eddie away and telling him to shut up.

If this was the lunch room, or a session of Hellfire, none of the freshmen would've dared do anything like that. And Eddie'd liked that, liked being respected and revered and leaving everyone with a sense of trepidation, all falling in line at his word - until he knew them well enough to know if they could be trusted, if he could let them in to see the real him underneath all his bravado.

It's just that there's not many that he's ever known well enough for that, and maybe he hasn't let himself really think about that before, but he is now.

It's just he likes this better, he thinks, because having Dustin and Lucas push each other and push him, all three of them trying to simultaneously be quiet enough not to call attention to themselves but loud enough to be heard over the others does a whole hell of a lot more to take his mind off the way Chrissy and Patrick's bones sounded as they snapped right in front of him than just about anything else.

It's just that when he looks over to where Steve and Buckley and Max are walking together, he sees Steve watching them, a soft little smile on his face, and it doesn't fade even when their eyes catch.

He doesn't want his soulmate to be Steve Harrington, he reminds himself.

—

And then they're at the lake, and Steve Harrington is shirtless and diving into the water, and then shirtless and ripping apart a demon bat with his bare hands and teeth, and then shirtless with blood and ichor dripping out of his mouth and down into his chest hair, and then shirtless and putting himself in front of him and Buckley and Wheeler with a look in his eyes like he'd rip apart anything that even tried to come for them, and -

Fuck.

He kind of wants his soulmate to be Steve Harrington.

Taglist (please let me know if I missed you, and always happy to add more!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @affablevixen @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void

-----

Part 7

[sepublic]

OWL HOUSE ANIMATED TEST LEAKED?!!?!

ALL RIGHT SO THE ORIGINAL ANIMATED TEST GOT LEAKED?! This is an animated test btw, a proof-of-concept of what TOH could look like, according to the person who posted this; The actual pilot still eludes us!

What we get and hear are more or less what we've already glimpsed and could guess at, just expanded a bit more; Luz wants to learn magic, Eda is skeptical, that sort of thing. What's interesting is that Luz claims King told HER he once knew magic, but based on how the final story went, this was probably one of his made-up delusions. He also has a lot more repressed, built-up anger from being coddled and patronized, which would've been interesting to see...

I wonder if that trait ended up transferring over to Proto Willow; Or rather, Paulina! I heard someone suggest the spelling is Polina since it's Slavic and TOH is based on Slavic myth, but for now, let's keep it simple. Paulina would def start off the same way as our Willow; Not doing well in magic, and messing up (this time on Luz herself, hilariously), but I presume the idea for her to shift to plant magic as her true calling was still there. Not only do we see this in earlier concept art, but a later bit with one of Paulina's plants harassing Luz. And she still has the issue of glowing green magic that she can't quite control...

We get Prince William, who shows up when Luz mentions the most 'powerful wizards', more on him later. It's generally speculated and agreed that William is a prototypical version of Hunter, so I find it neat that Paulina's name changed to Willow, as William became Hunter...

There's a glimpse of the Owl House's original design, as seen in the first proof-of-concept poster released back when the show was announced in 2018, with Eda's shop built into the front of the building! The tower doesn't have a roof, and the giant eye window blinks, which was carried over to the first episode's ending. We have some Spencer Wan concept animations he released a while back, but fully colored and animated... A Luz Doppelgänger seems to have always been an idea, so I guess the creepy puppet is Proto Vee?

THIS! We have what I suspect to be a prototype version of Emperor Belos, possibly when he was advisor to Emperor Pupa? I'm not sure, but the context, the blue eyes in darkness, the mask... Their location in what seems to be a cathedral, plus the resemblance to this concept art for Belos?

This is Proto-Belos. Him taking Eda away in what resembles a cathedral seems to indicate that his Christian extremist-leanings were a thing as early as this animated pitch, and what's more...

In the stained-glass window behind Luz, we see a portrait of Sir William, complete with that wavy-styled sword that resembles the knife Philip killed Caleb with! This raises so many questions... Is the Sir William we see here the real deal? Was he deposed and put into a slumber by Belos, the way Pupa would've been? And William is the true ruler of the isles?

Would William have been Belos' brother, his Caleb, hence the round human ears? Why does he look so young, was he de-aged, or is he a clone, a Grimwalker that was abandoned for not being sufficient, and/or discovered in an 'incubation' stage when Luz slapped him awake? I presume this concept of Hunter, who is actually referred to by this name, came later down the line;

Overall, very fascinating stuff! A better glimpse into the development of Willow, Belos, and Hunter(?) as well as an older idea for King's personality, and of course a better look at the original Owl House design shown in 2018! Brief yet wonderful and to the point, we've seen most of the stuff from this pitch as silent clips or images, but I'm glad to have it as part of a cohesive narrative this time! May we one day find the actual pilot itself...!

[hamliet]

Invincible: Proving the Superhero Genre Invincible

Another story I've watched recently is Invincible. I know it's based on comics, which I'll get around to eventually.

Despite masquerading as a dark deconstruction of the superhero story, the story is actually far more a hopeful coming-of-age story that just happens to don a gory costume. You can tell the writers love superhero comics, and that they aren't deconstructing it out of disdain but instead out of a desire to see what the main principles are.

In other words, it's far more akin to Hunter x Hunter's take on deconstructing shonen or even ASOIAF's spin on fantasy literature (matching the violence too) than it is a cynical, nihilistic tale with intent to ridicule. Love and friendships win the day. It's just complex to navigate them in a world where there has been so much hurt.

I wish Horikoshi had read a little more of this.

The tl;dr is that the world's Number One hero turns out to be working for a planet of alien colonizers who live forever and subjugate other lifeforms because they believe they're saving them. This gets to the heart of a thematic question often asked in the superhero genre but not often well-explored - what does it mean to save someone who doesn't want to be saved? Are there valid reasons to not want to be saved? What even counts as not wanting to be saved, and does perspective alter that? Is it not wanting to be saved for humans to cling to their fragile and short lives and free will when they could lose free will and have no more sickness and pain?

The story explores this through many different aspects and characters--from Eve being genetically engineered, to the boys turned into cyborgs, to Mark finding out his entire life has been a lie, to government bureaucracy running the superhero world. And just because the series affirms free will doesn't mean it's blind to the pitfalls of this, or that it doesn't explore the gray areas in which we live--namely, when to listen to others and obey orders, and when not to.

In addition to free will, the series affirms that one of the top gifts of humanity is love. Love is what wakes up the cyborgs when their emotions have been pried from their brains. Love is something intrinsic that can't be perfectly defined and doesn't listen to logic, yet also isn't purely emotional. It's powerful, and it's a weakness. It can save, but not always. (For example, Mark's love for his dad, the cyborg's love for his boyfriend, etc. But Eve's parents love for her doesn't save).

My favorite episode of the story is the final one in season 1, where Mark's father puts him through an overly literal lesson of the trolley problem and then tries to kill his own son. And then there's that one line:

Omni-Man: Why did you make me do this? You're fighting so you can watch everyone around you die! Think, Mark! You'll outlast every fragile, insignificant being on this planet. You'll live to see this world crumble to dust and blow away! Everyone and everything you know will be gone! What will have after 500 years? Mark: I'd still have you.

Really he has 0 reason to still want his father around at this point. And yet that single line contains so much power about what the series is saying.

Mark shouldn't still love his father, logically speaking. Even emotionally, he's determined to stop his father by any means necessary. But, he chooses to still love him, no matter what that means. Whether he lives or dies. Because whether he dies then or later, in that moment he loves his father. And it's so illogical and against what Omni-Man has been trying to literally beat into his son, yet so real, that it pauses destruction.

It doesn't fix anything. Not by a long shot. Not Mark and his father's relationship, not the world, not the plan of Omni-Man's Space!British Empire. Not Mark himself, as Mark will go on to make some pretty intensely Bad mistakes himself. But it means, in that moment, that a life is spared. And that single life is worth sparing (saving).

(This is how you write an abuser-son redemptive love arc!)

Mark and his parents are well done as characters, complex and flawed. I did wish the show had shown more of the ugly side of Debbie's grief (which they apparently do in the comics). I really would like women to be less sanitized, even if that means they act in despicable ways.

That said, the best female character is undoubtedly Eve. The special that chronicles her origin was brilliantly written--one of the best hours of TV I've watched. It's poignant and , despite being horror scifi cyberpunk in some ways, also realistic in how it portrays humanity. I appreciated that her adoptive parents were extremely complex for background characters. They desperately wanted a child, but not necessarily her. Her mom loves her, but still wishes she was someone else, and her father is just a bad dad. Of course, this is underscored by the fact that she's not their biological daughter, but I don't know that it would have been different if she was.

Plus, Eve and Mark are a great couple, though they take a bit too long to get together.

On that note, I also liked Amber as a character, but I thought the writing kind of didn't know what to do with Mark and Amber at times. Clearly they wanted this relationship to demonstrate the struggles of Mark trying to balance being a superhero with a normal high school life, but the writers were actually a bit too harsh on Mark at times. (I know, right?) I thought the main conflict between them in season 1 (about his identity) was unfairly framed as only Mark's fault when it wasn't, and it wasn't resolved in a satisfactory way.

Ultimately, though, the story is about humanity and all its ways of attempting to create superhumans. Science. Religion. Aliens. Living forever. Strength. Cyborgs. But what it affirms is that there is so much that is beautiful about humanity, and what transcends humanity are the traits we all can have--love and free will.

[staycalmandhugaclone]

Identity Pt 6 (Extra Scene)

Part (6) of Identity, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

There are two people in particular to blame for this chapter. You know who are are, and I love you for it.

Warnings: Big emotions in this - rage, guilt, blame, and the like. There do be a bit of fighting, but it's not gory. Brief description of water torture. Profanity

WC: 2,032

No one moved, breath nearly trapped in their chests as they watched the pair steadily make their way out of the hanger. Crosshair noted the stiffness in her movements, the slight hitch in her step, and his teeth ground at the certainty that her shoulder was only a small part of what she’d suffered.

“What the kriff did you do?!” He snarled at the group of regs still staring toward the now empty hallway. He’d half-expected Hunter or Echo to growl some half-hearted warning for him to back down, but they seemed just as eager for answers as he was, and the unspoken permission that granted him, the justification in loosing his rage on the remaining members of the 104th left him near shaking, face twisted with the full display of his fury.

“We followed our orders; just like she did… Things just… got complicated.” The one with the double oval on his forehead replied, and the dejection in his voice only worsened Crosshair’s anger.

“The hell does that mean?” His voice ground between gritted teeth, body innately taking a half-step forward.

“It means there were unforeseen circumstances that caused problems, and that you lot aren’t cleared to know anything more.” The clone bearing a wolf-head emblem said, not shying from the very real threat in the sniper’s posture as he tread forward to place himself pointedly between his men and the enraged squad before him.

“I don’t give a Sith’s tit about your mission. The kriff happened to her, and why didn’t any of you stop it?!” He spat, shoulders pulling back as he towered over the Sergent.

“No time.” Another reg replied gruffly from behind the telltale helm of a pilot. “When everythin’ went down, we were all too far away to do anything, an’ they had her whisked off to the other side of planet before we could reach her.”

“She was alone?!” Echo nearly shouted from behind him. Crosshair didn’t question Hunter’s silence thus far, assured that his brother was listening, calculating; that he could smell the cocktail of adrenaline filling each of them and was comparing their heart rates, their body language, the tension in their every taut muscle to figure out just how far they could be pushed before snapping, how much information they might glean from tongues loosened by shame and guilt.

“There wasn’t supposed to be any combat where she was.” The last one sighed, his head dropping toward his chest.

“Can’t help but notice not one of you has a damn scratch, so how’d she end up like that in a non-combat zone with you lot still looking like damn shinies?!” Cross shot back, disdain dripping from every word.

“That’s enough!” The pilot barked, moving stiffly forward to stand beside his brother. “Think you’re something special? That you’re all high and mighty just ‘cause you’ve got some damn crush? Well, how ‘bout we compare how many times she’s been hurt working with you than with us?!”

He nearly ignored the subtle shift of Hunter’s hand signaling him to back off, but caught himself mere heartbeats before throwing himself forward, fists clenched hard enough to shake.

“If you’re referring to combat ops, given the general nature of your missions, which tend toward community outreach and long-distance support, in addition to the fact that her most grievous injuries were caused directly by your commander’s intentional actions, statistically speaking, that comparison wouldn’t do much to support your argument.” The subtle note of annoyance in Tech’s retort was just enough to draw a huff of something too dark to be likened to laughter from Crosshair.

“Still haven’t given a reason why she was alone.” Wrecker’s voice was quiet, and that alone left Crosshair leaning slightly to the side lest he find himself between them should the massive clone decide he was done listening. “She’s a medic – can’t really do that if she’s not with you.”

“She wasn’t there as a medic.” The first reg explained wearily.

“Then why was she there? Why pull her from our unit at all?” Hunter asked, carefully masking his own anger with a feigned gentleness.

“Comet.” The Sergent called, helm shifting to stare pointedly at his brother. The silence that followed that warning only sought to fuel Crosshair’s ire while worsening the 104th’s collective remorse.

“We needed someone who could blend in with the Separatists.”

“Boost!”

The man who’d spoken drew a sharp breath at the reprimand in his brother’s tone, head snapping up to stare him down as he wrenched his helmet free.

“No! Dammit, Sinker, they should know what happened! You think needing to keep it a secret is going to do her any good?! Hell, that one’s clearly read plenty of our old mission briefs already!” Boost roared, hand snapping toward Tech. “Why the hell wouldn’t he read this one? The only difference between us telling them now and him reading about it later is how much time they’ll have to get their shebs ready to help her when she’s back.”

Despite his lingering urge to lash out, Crosshair found himself both quieted and unnerved anew at the man’s words, torn between wanting to berate them for their carelessness and appreciating Boost’s argument.

“I know…” Sinker replied, voice nearly breaking beneath the weight of remorse threatening to overwhelm him, “but that’s not our call to make.” Comet and the other one, the pilot, had both turned their attention from Crosshair and their brothers, as though waiting to see who’d cede first that they might be granted permission to speak freely.

“Then you go right ahead and report me, Sergent.” Boost spat.

“Our contact chose the location.” Sinker’s shoulders fell at Comet’s quiet whisper, but he offered no further dispute. “It was a gathering for high-ranking Separatists. The plan was her to get in, get a datachip, and monitor security while we broke into the gala’s database to get more info… get a little something extra for the effort. Apparently, our contact had ulterior motives, too. He planted a bomb. She got caught in the blast, and then she was blamed for it.”

Air hissed through Crosshair’s teeth; dread twisted through his chest at the knowledge of what a Separatist interrogation entailed.

“We got to her as quick as we could.” The pilot continued, arms crossing over his chest at the guilt clearly sown through his own words. “Beat up some guards, tracked all the outbound ships… finally had to hunt down the damn contact himself to figure out where they took her.” He didn’t need to look back to know his brothers stood as stiff as he did, waiting for that final blow of what exactly had happened.

“They had her for about eight hours.” Resigned, Sinker finally turned back to face him, movements weary as he also reached up to remove his helmet, and Cross couldn’t help but be slightly surprised to find that the man shared his silver hair color, a fact that instantly annoyed him further, but he held his tongue as he waited for the reg to continue. “We know she was unconscious most of that time, but when she woke up…”

“Enough with all the kriffin’ stalling. Just tell us wha’ happened.” Wrecker growled impatiently.

“She was drowned.” Comet stated bluntly, and Crosshair’s blood went cold. “They drowned her, brought her back, and waterboarded her trying to find out who was behind the explosion.”

He could feel his heart racing, felt his breath quicken, every thought screaming at him to fight, to forgo all fear of reprimand or consequence for the relief of even a moment’s outburst, because that was something he knew. He knew how to deal with the pain of raw knuckles and split lips. He knew the taste of disappointment his brothers would harbor in the aftermath of his rashness. He knew the sting of defeat and the empty pride of victory, and, in that moment, held no preference for either. He merely needed the distraction; that familiarity, because the ache in his chest, the way it threatened to cripple him and rend him into a frenzy too overcome with grief and guilt to think straight was something he didn’t know how to deal with, and that terrified him.

“I assume she’s been given appropriate treatment to prevent lung infections?” The emptiness in Tech’s voice robbed Crosshair of that lingering rage to which he’d been clinging, leaving him cold and void of the will to drag himself back to the forefront of a confrontation that no longer promised anything of the respite he’d longed for.

“Yeah.” Boost answered quietly. “She also has a burn on her calf… wrists and ankles got torn up from fighting the restraints… pretty sure that’s how she dislocated her shoulder, too. We got it all cleaned and bandaged, but… just keep an eye on it.” There. That last comment was all it took to rekindle his anger, and he grasped it like the fleeting lifeline it was.

“Think it’s pretty clear we don’t need your advice on how to keep her safe.” He drawled, head tilting just enough to portray the depth of his contempt.

“That’s it.” The pilot growled, throwing himself forward without further thought or warning. In that split second before they collided, Crosshair felt the very edge of his lips twitch up into a broken smile born of relief and ruined by a guilt he’d deal with later.

In an instant, everyone was shouting, and he thrived in that moment of chaos as the man’s fist crashed into his jaw. Already, several hands were grabbing for him, straining to wrench him back, but not before he landed his own strike, knee plowing into his stomach with enough force to wrench the air from his lungs despite the plates of heavy armor. Crosshair just managed a final punch to his assailant’s head before Wrecker forced himself between them, iron grip locked around the reg’s shoulder in a threat even the haughty pilot couldn’t feign ignorance to.

In the brief fray, he’d failed to notice the split second of distraction tear Hunter’s attention away from them, but he instantly froze as his brother hauled him near enough to whisper harshly into his ear.

“Cody commed me. It’s Doc.” Already, Hunter was pulling away from him, torn between ending the fight and answering the summons. “Don’t make things worse.” He added with a snarl forced into barely audible growl. Expression faltering into horrified dread, Cross merely nodded. Hunter didn’t hesitate before turning and dashing from the hanger, and then all Crosshair could hear was the heaviness of his own breathing, the way his heart pounded in chest beneath that rush of emotions resurging mercilessly in the wake of his vain attempt to escape them.

He glanced back to find his brothers studying him carefully, confusion clear in their eyes as they waited for some explanation, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak, not when the other squad stood watching him with that same attentiveness. Without a word, he merely nodded toward the hallway leading to their temporary bunkroom, sparing not so much as a glare back to the men he still sought to blame for all of this; for calling her away, for letting her get hurt, for reminding him just how easily he might lose her because of this Force-forsaken war.

He didn’t listen to the hushed voices of the 104th as he began walking away; barely let himself note the sets of footsteps voicing his own squad belatedly falling in line behind him. He couldn’t think beyond the fruitless need to know why Cody had called Hunter, what had happened in the debrief; mind demanding he find some means to force his way into that kriffing office in his brother’s stead, and his rage grew at the knowledge that there wasn’t a damn thing he could do but wait. All his training as a sniper, years of drilling the importance of patience into him, of forming that patience into a weapon honed to perfection; it was all useless against this, and he couldn’t keep himself from slamming his fist into the wall in a final fit of frustration as they neared the still foreign barracks.

Next Chapter

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @kixs-husband @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings @manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base @daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan @drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy @mooncommlink @isthereanechoinhere96 @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh @blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep @amorfista @wanderneverlost @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil @roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89 @waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose

[i-heart-hxh]

Whenever you can I'd really like to hear your thoughts about this and if you think it's accurate! ❤️ I absolutely adore your hxh meta and can't wait to hear more!!!

Hello! Thank you so much for the kind words, it means a lot to me! ❤️ These are fantastic observations and questions, as these traits are an important part of the basis of Gon's issues, and this tendency of his to rush into danger leads him into a lot of dark situations throughout the series. It's one of the most concerning aspects of his character.

His self-esteem issues are definitely at the root of this. Gon seems to have a fundamental belief that his life isn't worth much--hence why he tells Killua he's allowed to talk about dying, but Killua isn't. I think a big piece of this comes from the abandonment issues, as well as his issues with guilt (which I still need to write a post about). If even his own father won't stick around for him, what is he worth? And notice he frames Ging's choice in such a way where he doesn't assign blame to Ging--he believes that in a choice between him and being a Hunter, he must just be the inferior choice. Not a great basis for self-worth.

As much as he looks up to Kite, I don't think his encounter with Kite when he was younger helped--he was blamed directly for the mama foxbear's death and Kon becoming an orphan. And while I don't doubt at all that Mito loves him, I think Gon may see himself as a burden on her to a certain degree, and he tries to be as self-sufficient as possible as a result. (That's more of a headcanon of mine, but I do think the complex way their relationship is framed and Gon's behavior in the series supports this to a degree.)

Because he doesn't see his life as being worth much, he tries to take on everything alone, and he sees strength and power as a method to prove that he does have worth after all. If he can prove he's strong, maybe he isn't worthless after all! If he's strong, maybe he won't be a burden to others or unintentionally cause them harm (think about the mama foxbear, and ultimately Kite himself)! If he can become a Hunter and find Ging, maybe he can understand why Ging didn't stay with him, and he won't have to wonder why he left him behind any more!

I definitely think dangerous situations and escaping death give him a a sense that he is capable and worthy, plus it's a rush to him--a form of excitement and stimulation that he craves. Also, keep in mind that Gon grew up among nature, including many wild animals. While "survival of the fittest" is an oversimplification of how nature works, certainly at the same time, a weak animal is more likely to fall prey to a predator. So of course being strong is the more advantageous position to be in, and especially as a person who isn't sure of his worth or his place in the world.

I think he believes the stronger he becomes, the more dangerous situations he can escape, and the more strong enemies he can defeat, the more capable and worthy he'll feel. Because of how much his self-esteem then hinges on whether he's strong or not, things like Hisoka punching him and giving him his badge make Gon struggle to feel like he has value. The times we see Gon cry, like in his conversation with Kurapika in the airship about that moment with Hisoka, or in the scene after he couldn't win against Knuckle and couldn't go to NGL to rescue Kite, often relate directly to him not feeling strong enough.

Also yet again (back to my usual refrain), this is in fact another subversion of shounen expectations. Shounen protagonists tend to be energetic and feisty teen boys who throw themselves into dangerous situations easily, and in most shounen series this is a trait that's not treated with much weight--they can handle it, nothing truly bad generally happens to them as a result, this trait of theirs is treated as something brave and admirable and "cool."

But with Gon, Togashi does give it weight--others worry about him and comment on this trait of his, his recklessness has real costs for him that escalate over time (think about the results of Gon tailing Hisoka in the Hunter Exam, Gon vs Gido, the end of Greed Island, and of course CAA), and ultimately his disregard for his own worth and safety essentially leads him to throw away his own life. In Gon, it's not an admirable trait, but a concerning and tragic one, with deep roots in his psyche.

It's brilliant to me how many of Gon's traits all link together--his low self-esteem comes from his abandonment issues and leads to his recklessness, he has a selfish streak because he's young and still somewhat immature and grew up isolated, and his short-sightedness as a result of that manifests in his sense of morality not being fully developed. And yet even with all of that, he's still a sweet, cheerful, kind, smart, and encouraging boy. I absolutely love the complexity of his character and how, if you carefully analyze him, the way he is makes so much sense.

Thank you for asking!