#this is all based on what I know

[forestofsprites]

tail end of season seven you will always be famous

[puppyeared]

these two are so interesting to me

characters belong to @canisalbus

[six-tooth]

she's such a jerk to them and it's so funny

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Heh...Literally nothing personal, kid.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[clarionglass]

here we go :) part one of three, updates to be released weekly!

---

sam says 4 (game master cinematic universe, part 3)

Ruby was at her mum's for a family dinner she couldn't miss on pain of death, apparently, and the Doctor was many things, but a family dinner kind of guy wasn't one of them—particularly when Carla had already slapped him once in the short time he'd known her. He thought he'd broken his streak of bad luck with mums, but… well, seemingly not. So he was companionless for a few hours, and while he could wait for her to get back, maybe catch up on his reading—what was the point of waiting when you had a time machine? 

He ran his hands over the TARDIS console, marvelling at her clean lines and metallic flourishes, the way that even now she felt brand new but familiar, and paused. He’d just pop off for a quick adventure, nothing too dangerous, but—where to go?

He could scan for a distress call nearby, and pitch in to help. He could drop in on Donna and Shaun and Rose, beautiful Rose, and see how they were all doing. Or he could just hit the randomiser button, and jump in feet first wherever he ended up.

He remembered a conversation from a long time ago, when he wore a different face, and his gorgeous TARDIS wore a face too, for the first and only time.

“You didn't always take me where I wanted to go.”

“No, but I always took you where you needed to go.”

He grinned. Who could resist an offer like that? He pressed the button and whooped as the time rotor spun into action, ready to see where the universe would take him.

---

Apparently, he was needed pretty close to where he already was. Earth, 2024. Huh. Same planet, same time—within a few months of where he’d left Ruby, even. The main thing that had changed was the location: he was now in the good old US of A. California, to be more specific, and Los Angeles to be more specific still. And to really narrow it down, the Doctor discovered as he poked his head out of the TARDIS doors, he was in… a broom closet. Not bad, as a parking spot—a bit squeezy, but out of the way. And as he poked his head out of that door, he could finally see he was in the backstage corridors of a studio of some kind. Film or TV, if he was to hazard a guess, it was a different vibe from Abbey Road.

With a shrug, he decided to go exploring.

It couldn’t have been more than a minute before a young woman wearing the full-black outfit, headset, and permanently stressed expression of a production assistant came running up to him.

“Are you the fill-in Sam organised?” she asked breathlessly, and honestly, seeing the look on her face, the Doctor didn’t have the heart(s) to tell her no. And really, what was the Doctor, if not a professional fill-in? This, this was why he had a randomiser button on the control panel, because whatever he was about to get himself into was going to be fun.

“Sure!”

“Oh, thank god,” sighed the production assistant, relief dawning across her face. “When Ally tested positive this morning, I thought we were sunk for the record, because we called around and we couldn’t get a hold of anyone. But then Sam said he could get someone in, and, you know, here you are, and just in time, so—ah, yeah, if you could follow me this way?”

Smiling all the way, the Doctor followed his guide through to hair and makeup, looking around as they went. The studio seemed to belong to a company called Dropout, according to the branding scattered around, and things seemed, at least on the surface, to be… well. Fine. He couldn't tell why he'd been brought here yet, which meant that when he found the reason, it was going to be particularly tangled. He couldn't wait! 

And then he looked back at his guide, still engulfed in a miasma of anxiety, and realised he'd been too busy looking for clues to notice the person right in front of him. 

“Hey, it's cool, you've found me,” he started with a gentle smile. “You can relax. Hi, I'm the Doctor. What's your name?”

“Oh!” she said, startled. “The Doctor, yeah, of course. Um, hi, I'm Kaylin. Look, sorry, it's just that I've been so busy this morning, I'm so distracted… Shit, and I would've completely forgotten to get your details too. There's paperwork to fill in, but you can do that later. Um, just for now, though, can I get your pronouns?”

The Doctor thought for a moment. “He/him, for now.”

Kaylin nodded, making a note on her phone. “Okay, cool! And do you have any socials?”

“Not me, babes,” he replied. “I'm hardly sitting down long enough to be able to update, you know?”

“On a day like this, I know exactly what you mean,” she said. “That's okay, Lou didn't have socials either for the longest time. Right, so if you go through there, the team will get you sorted, and once you're done, someone will take you up to the greenroom. All good?”

“All great,” the Doctor replied. Kaylin flashed him a quick, relieved smile, then hurried off.

Hair and makeup was a fairly quick process, the sound mixer fitted him with a microphone, and before too long, Kaylin was back to take him upstairs. 

“This is the greenroom,” she said, pushing the door open. “The rest of the cast for the episode are already here—they’re great guys, and they’ve both been on the show a lot, so they’ll be able to help if you’ve got questions. And if you need anything else, just come find me or any of the other PAs, okay?”

The Doctor nodded, beamed at Kaylin, and walked in.

---

The greenroom was small but comfortable, and its occupants, two men around the same age as the Doctor appeared, looked up as he entered.

“Oh, you’re new,” the taller of the pair said, clearly giving him the once-over.

The other sighed with a mixture of fondness and exasperation, just as clearly used to his friend’s antics.

“Hey, I’m Brennan,” he said, levering himself up to standing from his perch on a chair arm, and holding out a hand. “That’s Grant.”

The Doctor took it warmly. “The Doctor. Just passing through, and happy to help.”

Grant’s eyebrows quirked. “Doctor… something?” he prompted.

“Or is it just ‘the Doctor’?” Brennan asked.

“Just ‘the Doctor’,” the Time Lord confirmed cheerfully. “You’ll get used to it, everyone does.”

Grant didn’t look convinced, but—

“Copy that,” Brennan shrugged, and settled back on the arm of the chair, returning his gaze to the door.

Grant, in turn, looked at the Doctor and rolled his eyes in a clear expression of ‘no, I don’t know why he’s like this, either’.

“Okay,” the Doctor said after a moment of watching the watching. “I wasn’t going to ask, but now I think I have to. What’s up with the door?”

Brennan huffed a laugh. “Well, the last time there was one of those up—” he pointed to the Out of Order sign stuck to the bathroom door, “—we got locked in here for the game.”

“He’s paranoid,” Grant interjected.

“Well, yeah, maybe,” Brennan retorted. “Or just cautious. Because Sam’s been acting weird lately, and we’re coming up to the last few records of the season, so he’s probably planning something way out of the box for the finale. And the original cast was you, me and Beardsley, so…”

He shrugged one shoulder meaningfully, and Grant nodded, conceding both the point and the potential for chaos.

“So if Sam comes in to give us the briefing, rather than waiting til we’re on set,” Brennan continued, “or there’s anything else weird going on, I’m gonna know about it right from the beginning.”

He turned to the Doctor. “The only reason I'm not quizzing you is because I know for a fact Beardsley was genuinely scheduled for this, so you can't be a plant by the production team. No offence.”

“None taken,” the Doctor smiled. “That sort of thing happen often, does it?”

Grant and Brennan exchanged a look. 

“More than you'd think,” Grant answered with a grimace. 

“Alright,” the Doctor said slowly, then brightened. “So what is it we're actually doing?”

Grant gave him a disbelieving glance. “You don't know—?”

“Very last minute fill-in,” the Doctor said breezily. “But don't worry, I'm a quick study.”

“Well, you're not that much worse off than the rest of us,” Brennan said encouragingly. “You know about Game Changer, obviously, if you know Sam, and we only find out the rules of the game once we get on set. Hopefully,” he added, with a dark look back at the Out of Order sign. 

The Doctor nodded. No, he didn't know Sam, and he didn't know Game Changer, but he could work out the situation from context clues. This was a game show. And with the Toymaker banished, and Satellite Five not coming into existence for another 198000 years, give or take, he found himself smiling. Maybe third time would be the charm. 

“Mmm, hopefully they aren't going to throw you in the deep end,” Grant said. “Because Brennan might seem lovely now, but as soon as we get out there, he's a whore for points. He'll stab you in the back and won't even blink.”

Brennan barked with laughter. “Yeah, and you wouldn't?”

“Excuse you, I'm always a goddamn delight,” Grant replied, the very picture of injured dignity. 

“Oh, absolutely!” agreed a new voice. The Doctor turned to the now-open door to see a bearded man in a pinstriped suit smiling broadly. “That's why we keep inviting you back!”

Grant bowed sarcastically. “Why, thank you, Sam. Good to know I'm appreciated by someone here.”

“Always,” Sam replied, gently but firmly ending that particular path of the conversation. He scanned the room, and his eyes lit up when they landed on the Doctor. 

“Ah, you must be the Doctor!” he said with obvious delight, walking over with his hand outstretched. “I'm Sam—thanks for filling in for us, you've made sure we're going to have a good show. Seriously, it's a pleasure to have you here.”

“Aw, cheers!” the Doctor smiled, shaking the offered hand. “Glad I could help out, I'm really looking forward to this!”

“Well, great!” Sam exclaimed, then took a step back, regarding all three players in turn. “Now, folks, I'm just letting you know that we're just about ready to start the record, so if you can start heading down, that'd be great.”

Grant and Brennan nodded—Brennan, the Doctor noticed, with relief. 

“See you down there,” Sam said, smiling. “Have a great show, and—”

His eyes caught on the Doctor's for a second, twinkling. 

“Good luck.”

---

Backstage, the Doctor, Brennan and Grant were marshalled into podium order and given a final briefing from the crew. And then, with a thumbs-up from Kaylin, that was it.

Showtime.

“Get ready for a Game Changer!” came Sam's voice from onstage. “Tonight’s guests: he can shoot off a monologue with laser accuracy; it’s Brennan Lee Mulligan!”

Brennan, his back to the camera as the curtains opened, spun on his heel and, with a stone-cold expression, pointed finger guns straight down the barrel, before letting the facade crack open. “Hi!” he exclaimed, and walked over to the leftmost podium.

“It’s his first appearance, but he’s already on fire; it’s the Doctor!”

The Doctor leant against the archway to the stage and flashed a broad smile towards the camera, then in a few skipping steps, had bounded over to the next free podium. What the hell, why not make an entrance?

“And even in the toughest of mazes, you’ll always be able to find him; it’s Grant O’Brien!”

Grant dipped his lanky frame into an approximation of a curtsey, spreading his arms wide, then sauntered over to the closest podium with a grin.

“And your host, me!” Sam announced, a ring of manic white showing around his irises as he beamed down the barrel of the camera. “I’ve been here the whole time!”

“This,” he continued, pushing his microphone shut and stowing it in his jacket pocket, “is Game Changer, the only game show where the game changes every show. I am your host, Sam Reich!” 

As he said his name, he looked at his hands, front and back, as if he was pleasantly surprised to be himself, then gestured towards the three podiums.

“I am joined today by these three lovely contestants! Now, you understand how the game works.”

“Of course not,” Grant started. “You know we don't.”

“We can't, Sam, that's the whole point of the theatre you've set up here,” Brennan said over him. 

“Not yet,” was all the Doctor said, anticipation starting to drum a tattoo of excitement against the inside of his ribcage. 

“That’s right!” Sam said brightly, shooting finger guns at the camera. “Our players have no idea what game it is they’re about to play. The only way to learn is by playing. The only way to win is by learning, and the only way to begin is by beginning! So without further ado, let’s begin by giving each of our players fifty points.”

The Doctor, biding his time, watched the reactions of his fellow contestants. Grant looked at the front of his podium, checking the point total, and nodding approvingly when he saw that yes, it was sitting at a round fifty. Brennan, on the other hand, was starting to frown.

“Players, Sam says: touch your nose,” Sam began, and Brennan sighed the sigh of someone who wasn’t happy to be proved right.

“Oh, no,” he groaned. “Oh, you son of a bitch. Wasn’t one this season enough?”

He touched his nose anyway, as did the others, and Sam smiled encouragingly. “Sam says: touch your ear.”

When they all did, Sam nodded. “Touch your other ear.”

Everybody held still, fingers on the ears they had originally touched.

Sam beamed. “Easy, players, right?”

“You say that now,” Brennan said darkly. “Which makes it worse, because all you're doing is setting us up for failure.”

Sam gasped, pretending offence. “Would I do that?”

“Yes,” Brennan and Grant replied in unison, which drew a grin from the Doctor and set Sam off chuckling.

“And I'm not having it,” Brennan continued, leaning his elbows against his podium and pointing at Sam with the hand not touching his ear. “You better watch yourself, because I know how this game works, and you're not going to get one over on me.”

“Strong words, Brennan!” Sam said, clearly delighted by this response. “Okay, then, let's start making things a bit more interesting!”

The game continued as per Sam Says usual, some rounds done as a group and some individual. Points were won, sure, but lost slightly more frequently, and even the Doctor found he was having to concentrate to avoid getting caught in the host's traps. 

It was fun. Genuinely, it was like playing a game with friends, and the Doctor felt himself leaning into it. There wasn't any sign of danger—maybe there wasn't a mystery to solve at all, and the TARDIS just decided he needed a total break. 

Well, probably not. But the way things were going, he was able to let himself hope. 

“Alright, players,” Sam said a good few rounds in, just as pleasantly as he would start any other question, and the screen behind him dinged as a new prompt popped up. “Survive the death beam.”

For a second, everything was frozen perfectly still. 

And then came the crash, the explosive noise of heavy machinery moving relentlessly through a drywall set.

The Doctor was already moving. “Everyone down!”

“Duck!” Brennan yelled at the same time.

The two of them hit the ground within milliseconds of each other, but Grant was still paralysed in the face of the giant, science-fiction type laser cannon that had just ploughed through the wall. 

It whined ominously, screaming its way to fever pitch. And then a sharp pain in Grant’s ankle made him stagger, pitching forwards onto the carpet behind the podiums as the Doctor rolled away to avoid getting pinned.

“Sorry, babes,” the Doctor whispered. “But it was either kick you to get you down, or—”

A hideous metallic screech ripped through the air, and all three of them could feel the crackle of ozone as a beam of energy swept across what had, moments ago, been neck height.

“…Or that,” the Doctor finished with a grimace.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Grant breathed, suddenly very conscious of every inch of his 6’9 frame. “Thanks.”

“Well done, players!” Sam exclaimed delightedly from above them. “But… sorry, I didn’t say ‘Sam says’, so that’s a point off for everyone.”

“What the fuck!” Brennan snapped.

“Are you actually insane?” Grant demanded at the same time, his voice overlapping with Brennan’s.

In response, Sam just wheezed with laughter. “You can come back to your podiums,” he said, cheerfully ignoring them.

Nobody moved.

“Very good!” he acknowledged, and even without seeing his face, the grin was obvious in his voice. “Okay, Sam says: come back to your podiums.”

Although the words were innocuous, and his tone was just as light and breezy as usual, there was nevertheless an edge hiding just underneath the surface. And while the death beam loomed large in the minds of all three players, it was impossible to consider disobedience as an option.

Slowly, they stood, returning to their places. Now they had the time to look at it properly, the death beam was even more sinister, and Brennan and Grant both kept flicking nervous glances its way, ready to move if it looked like it was charging up again.

The Doctor, however, was focused purely on the man standing in front of them. Unbothered, Sam met his gaze like a challenge, a mischievous smile playing about his lips.

“Oh, you’ll love this one,” he said, and the screen changed. “Sam says, starting with Grant: say my name.”

Grant frowned in confusion, but answered quickly nonetheless. “Sam Reich?”

The man himself shrugged tolerantly, moving on. “Brennan?”

Brennan just stared at him coolly. “Do you take me for a fool?”

“Well caught, Brennan!” Sam said happily. “Sam says: say my name.”

“Sam,” Brennan replied, suspicion clear in his voice. “Samuel Dalton Reich.”

He nodded, still with a hint of indifference. “And lastly, Doctor.” His smile broadened. “Sam says: say my name.”

It was easy. Too easy. And as the Doctor looked into the eyes of the man calling himself Sam Reich, he felt his hearts stutter in recognition, because something had changed. He wasn’t hiding himself anymore, and while the face was different yet again, the Doctor would know the shape of that soul anywhere. It was impossible. It was inevitable.

“You can’t be,” he breathed. 

Sam smirked, leaning in across his podium. “Oh, but Doctor… I’ve been here the whole time,” he stage-whispered with a wink.

“He said you lost,” the Doctor said, shaking his head, looking wrong-footed for the first time that Brennan and Grant could recall. “You lost, and he trapped you.”

The other two watched, uncomprehending, but Sam just smiled, drumming his fingers against the podium with an audible beat, fast but distinct. Four taps, four taps, four taps. “I’m waiting.”

The Doctor took a slow, deep breath. Set his jaw. 

“Master.”

---

missed an installment of the game master cinematic universe?

original idea by @ace-whovian-neuroscientist: x

art by @northernfireart concept: x scissor sisters sketch: x sam and his doppelganger: x

writing by me (!) part one (escape the greenroom): x part two (deja vu): x part three (sam says 4): you are here!

[delicourse]

been watching dungeon meshi...🌱

[mugwot]

funnyjokespunperson

[soarrenbluejay]

Supervillains for a community. (Well, except those jerks over in Gotham, insular lot, but they’re they’re one problem) Of course they do- supervillains are a group defined by strong opinions and a willingness to see them through, often with a healthy dash of societal failures and trauma as a catalyst.

The fentons, while not active even on the online message boards, are well known and explosive when they do show up, full of fascinating insights and hours long rants on mad science on hair pin turns courtesy of that ADHD attention span. Bit of the cryptids you feel honored to bump into kind of deal. Besides, like a good quarter of the community as it aged, they’d settled down and had kids (not necessarily in that order) and taken it very seriously! Out in the middle of nowhere, where even the most fearsome government outpost members, the local branch of the IRS, quake before them in fear. Out of the way.

Reveal gone okay-ish, Danny moves to Gotham still to get some air bc now things are Akward and he landed that engineering scholarship which is loads better than any other college would give him with his track record. So- the mysterious Fenton children are finally crawling out of hiding! Everyone is psyched! And roll in to Gotham en masse to witness the fireworks!

Except Danny is Determined To Be Normal. He’s had enough of the throwing himself into harms way shit for a lifetime- he wants to be free to peacefully built Rube Goldberg machines and unintentional increasingly complex bombs to his hearts content. JAZZ, on the other hand- the coveted token Normal One, has finally snapped! She’s watched her baby brother she practically raised throw himself into danger over and over and could do nothing, and now that she’s exposed to this whole network of superheroes outside of small town Amnity, some of those uglier emotions are coming out. And boy is she pissed! And can’t afford to show it much while filing the paperwork to have Arkham legally razed to the ground!

See I love this idea of like, niches in superhero society. A villain the heroes know they can plop their kiddo down with for an exciting afternoon brawl while they take care of a particularly grisly case and come back to a few hours later ranting about some new life lesson and a new move they really want to try. A villain who has a functioning moral compass despite their somewhat batshit long term goal and you can contact to fuck with another villains’s plan so they can laugh at them and you can have an easy afternoon. One who pries up hostile architecture and fills in pot holes, idk man. Get creative here, there’s such potential!

So Jazz becomes a Training villain- someone the heroes know their sidekicks will walk away from in a fight 100% of the time, usually with some new lesson to ponder and only a couple of bruises. Sometimes even snacks!

She also absolutely ambushes mentors to check that they’re worth the kiddo, which they appreciate once they get over being jumped in a dark alley by a 7 foot Amazon trained force of nature. They are not used to being on that side of the jumping, it’s a little unnerving.

(Yes, she low key adopts Shazam upon checking in with him on cursory ‘is the main hero of this city and asshole’ checkin. Yes, the super clones get yoinked out from under Superman’s negligent thumb to go have a blast with Ellie. What about it?)

This however only encourages more assorted weirdos to crawl out of the woodwork. It’s not often one of their own forfeits their potential spot for the running of the coveted Most Normal I Swear prize, but when they do it’s bound to be good! But jazz is off hounding various heroes and punching the faces in of pedophiles and shit whenever there’s no cape within easy reach, and so is a mite bit harder to contact than Danny, who has innocently gotten an apprenticeship under a clockworker for access to their workshop and is gleefully going about doing nerdy shit with great abandon.

Plus this is Gotham. No one gives a shit if someone in the Mad Alchemist uniform and still smoking from their latest experiment pokes their head in a window to bother the local shrimp teen- none of the usual social rules apply, everyone’s crazy here! So everyone drops any and all attempts at masking and just acts their genuine unhinged selves, much to the alarm of the Bats and frustration of Danny.

Bc he cannot get these mfers to go. Away. Even liberal use of the creep stick has little effect when the interloper is calibrated for an opponent with super speed or laser vision or whatever, and he’s trying to maintain his guise as a Normal College Student Do No Investigate.

So he calls in the big guns. He’s not super active in the supervillain kids group chat ever since things in amnity calmed the fuck down post becoming King and then immediately using a loophole that says he will not take the throne until he is grown, as defined by finishing learning his trade a la the medieval standards Pariah set up. So he can just take his sweet ass time with his graduate degree and out of inter dimensional bull shit that much longer! Point is, he hasn’t taken the chance to rant over there in a while, so his Crazy friends are getting a lil worried.

The change to come over and shout at their batshit crazy but (mostly) well meaning parent AND see Danny? Score!

The bats, however, are getting awfully suspicious about this one kid that villains from all over the country are flocking to, especially young and upcoming ones as of recently! And he’s acting his engineering course- all the worst rogues are known to have flown through their PhD studies prior to Cracking. They seem to have a real problem on their hands with this Fenton guy.

[yukipri]

For curiosity's sake...

[doctorsiren]

give this angle another tri

[bittsandpieces]

thinking about all the potential for finding your sibling's porn online. is it your older sibling? the one you always looked up to, the one who protected you and bullied you in equal, loving measure? or is it your younger sibling? the one you still think of as a kid, who's suddenly so obviously grown up. do you recognize them right away, shocked and "horrified" but still looking? or does it take a minute? maybe it takes a while. maybe you've been a fan, actually, this whole time not knowing who's pretty body you were jerking off to.

because let's be honest. you're absolutely jerking off to it

[atthebell]

bisexuality comes for all minecraft youtubers

[read my tags before getting pissy with me]

[bloobydabloob]

Holy shit I love your Dirk interpretations, it's so true and I could talk about this shit forever. I feel like another part of his character that people seem to forget (along with Roxy for some reason) is that he's from the future in solitude in an apocalyptic wasteland. I just see that part of his character always removed which is disappointing because I feel like that's a pretty big part, especially regarding his themes around technology, his brother's theme of Time, his own isolation, and how he plays in the vastness of the universe and spacetime.

Art I drew related to the subject because I like to respond to asks with art.

But absolutely. I certainly understand where the lack of discussion over his isolation + upbringing comes from, considering a majority of the fanbase that I have seen builds their ideas based on their own version of postcanon. I’m not entirely sure how that would be fixed, but certainly even in the somewhat recent past I would see a lot more content regarding his upbringing both literally and symbolically. I don’t have much to add regarding the things you’ve mentioned, because they just are what they are. Dirk being confined to a singular room left to him by a father figure he never met, in a future where the only other person left on the planet is someone he cannot pursue a relationship of because of himself, with purely 3 robots to keep him companion, one being an exact replica of his own brain who is *also* trapped inside a pair of glasses, is about as literal as it gets to me.

The contrast to me involving the flooded, organic world in comparison to the little speckle of Dirk’s apartment packed with the dude and his technics is not only a representation of his isolation and entrapment within himself, but also of his lack of control. I think his obsession with & themes of control are a direct product in the case of Dirk specifically *of* this kind of upbringing. His themes of technology are also related to his themes around control. So much of his character is actually revolved around this to me like so much. Dirk is so deeply disconnected from humanity in every way and so much of his character + symbolism is based around that.

It doesn’t even have to be about the symbolism or anything though. It’s just pretty *interesting* in the literal sense that he lives in the middle of the ocean in the future. There’s not only a lot to theorise on to do with his young life there, but on how it might affect him in the way he acts for the rest of his life. The latter part is probably what I see mentioned the most by people talking about Dirk regarding this, I’m surprised I don’t see more discussion on the former too though. I really ought to actually talk more about Homestuck stuff on here. I will do it myself.

Roxy & Dirk’s relationship is largely ignored though because there is a narrative a certain demographic spreads that Dirk resented and blamed Roxy for her interest in him, and thus too many people believe that their relationship was or would continue to be an abusive one. Realistically, I believe it’s important to acknowledge that the way Roxy treated Dirk regarding his homosexuality wasn’t right while still acknowledging the obvious amount of respect and admiration Dirk had for Roxy. I mean we have a huge piece of dialogue from their post trickster mode conversations on the quest beds from Dirk purely stating how he feels about Roxy that people completely ignore somehow. I think this usually happens to characters that are women though. I know everyone says it, but it is true. Jane gets the exact same treatment of boiling her down to solely her negative aspects. The things I see completely mischaracterising both of them are horrific.

I mean how much more explicit can it get that their relationship is obviously very important to Dirk? But I digress. I think the best or I should say “most interesting” interpretations of their relationship usually come from DirkRoxy shippers actually.

I would be interested to hear about Dirk’s relation to his brother’s theme of time though. I don’t have any thoughts on this and I don’t recall ever hearing anyone talk about it before. If you or anyone else would be willing to enlighten me I’d be thrilled.

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 1

these snippets aren't connected in anyway but just some little scenes I came up with, everyone is welcome to build up on them if they want to

unrelated snippet nr 2, unrelated snippet nr 3(?)

“Thank you, young man,” elderly man, a civilian, said to Phantom, squeezing his shoulder when the boy transported him away from the battle into an established safe zone. Hero froze for a moment, blinking rapidly.

“You’re… welcome?” he squeaked and flew back to fight the first chance he got, still dazed.

He was lost in thought the whole time he worked after that, rescuing some teen girls too curious, brave and stupid to run away on their own when they still had a chance. If Kid Flash didn’t warn him, one of the goons would land a really nasty hit, which should not have happened. Phantom had one of the best combat spatial awareness out of all of them. He couldn’t always react in time, but it almost never escaped him that an attack was coming.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

That was why, as soon as the fight was over,  Kaldur approached his teammate. He saw Robin doing the same.

Phantom, to give him credit where credit is due, didn’t fly away from the scene first given chance like always. Instead he sat in the space where they were transporting civilians, hand on his right shoulder, unseeing eyes locked on some cracks in the pavement. His mouth was moving without making a sound. He was covered in dust, like all of them.

“Phantom,” Kaldur asked through Mindlink “are you injured?”

Ghost flinched and turned his head, giving the leader a shaky smile. His eyes were still distant.

“Yeah, no, I’m alright. Sorry I was so out of it. Thanks for the rescue Wally, "the boy replied but his eyes slowly turned back to where he was staring before. Other than that, he hadn't moved.

“Phantom, what’s wrong?” Robin tried, both out loud and through Mindlink. Now the whole Team was concerned.

“It's nothing, really,” Phantom answered with a distant tone.“ Just… something weird happen and I need a moment to wrap my head around it”

“What was it?” Artemis asked bluntly before Conner did the Mindlink equivalent of smack on the back of a head. It was a bit weird to see Conner as the sensitive one. Black Canary was doing a great job with helping him over his anger.

“Let him process it on his own before you demand answers,” he growled.

“Adult civilian thanked me,” the ghost mumbled with awe at the same time. For a moment everyone froze in muted shock.

This explained so much while being so confusing. Yes, civilians tended to do it. It felt great. It didn’t warrant such an intense reaction.

“That's nice,” M’gann sent carefully after a long moment.

“Mhm… Really nice”

Kaldur slowly put a hand on the arm Phantom wasn’t holding, to help ground him a bit. Despite his efforts, the ghost flinched under his touch.

“We need to go to a bioship and back to the Mountain. You should probably come with us”

He expected a fight, he had various ideas how to convince younger boy but instead he heard quiet, small “Sure”

Ghost didn’t move for a long moment.

“Phantom?” Robin asked and again, the response was a violent flinch.

“Sorry, sorry. I know it’s dumb I’m just-” he transmitted some sort of lowering melody that Kaldur didn’t know “-right now”

“Did you just send Windows XP shutting down noise?!” Wally yelled, exasperated. 

“He did,” Robin snorted. Artemis laughed from one of the surrounding rooftops.

Phantom’s lips twitched with a minimal smile but it disappeared before it fully set. His brows furrowed as he stood up, shrugging Kaldur’s hand off in the process.

“Is this publicly known that I’m a ghost? Like, outside Amity? Or do people just assume I’m a meta?”

“Around 3% of discourse about you is ‘alive or not’-”Robin stated after few seconds of searching n his wrist computer “-with people saying stuff like ‘I’ve seen him breathe’ but everyone else responds with some variation of ‘Are you really going to tell kid how he’s supposed to cope with being dead? Really Jared?’ and the general consensus is that you are in fact a ghost. More people wonder what pronounce you use. Why?”

Phantom said nothing. Kaldur exchanged worried glances with Robin and called everyone else to meet by the bioship. It was a successful but tiring mission and they all wanted nothing more than to relax. After debrief because of course Batman would find things that could’ve gone better.

M’gann and Wally were already waiting by the time they got there. Martian was stiff and looked like she was focusing on some really hard task. She almost shut down the Mindlink.

“Phantom, your thoughts are really loud” she whispered out loud “Louder than normal ghost thoughts. I’m trying not to listen or to transmit it on Mindlink but it’s pretty hard. What’s wrong?”

Kaldur remembered the conversation they all had almost right after Phantom joined the Team. As it turned out, ghosts as ‘the beings of emotions’ had thoughts that Martians could read but on different frequencies than living, whatever that meant, and they were really loud. Like they were screaming on the top of their lungs.

Asphalt creaked ominously when Conner jumped down to join them.

“Sorry”

M’gann relaxed minutely before she got visibly angry.

“I don’t mean ‘shield everything’ Phantom, it’s extremely unhealthy, explain what’s wrong?!”

“Seriously guys, you’re all overreacting. It’s not that deep.  I'm just weirded out a bit”

“Your brain was screaming ‘It doesn’t make sense!’ on repeat” M’gann pointed out dryly, ending the Mindlink and motioned them inside the bioship right after Artemis scrambled down a fire escape and joined them.

Phantom skillfully ignored the concerned gazes of every member of the Team other than M’gann who at least pretended to focus on flying. He looked like he was trying to figure out some really complicated puzzle.

“What did this civilian say, exactly?” Robin asked, breaking the silence with a surprising amount of caution in his voice.

“He said ‘Thank you, young man’ and squeezed my shoulder,“ the ghost explained with a wistful and a bit hazy smile. It still didn't justify such an intense reaction “I can still feel it. T’was nice. Not strong enough to hurt but… sure? I didn’t do anything, really, and he most likely knows I'm a ghost, but he thanked me anyway. No sense”

Halfway through Robin seemed to get an idea and once again started typing away on his computer. Phantom sunk into his seat more comfortably, but he quickly returned to distressed overthinking.

“People rarely make sense,” Conner pointed out.

“Nah, you just can't people yet” Wally grinned between bites of his granola bar.

“Nah, you're just an extrovert with superpowers. People make no sense,” Artemis decided in a way that ended all arguments “But gratitude after rescue is pretty typical…”

“Not for Phantom“

“What do you mean, Robin?”

“He means, I'm a ghost, Kaldur,” Phantom started “Of course they're not thanking me. I'm an ‘odd,  manipulative and evil manifestation of post-living consciousness on ectoplasm‘ and ‘always hostile towards living but lack the sentience to comprehend moral aspects of my behavior‘ and ‘should be eradicated for betterment of the living realm’.” he recited almost cheerfully and it made something in Kaldur’s stomach twist. Judging by their faces, his teammates felt the same way.

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?” M’gann asked carefully.

“It doesn’t matter if I believe this or not. They do. Why would anyone thank me? Especially an adult. Teens apparently decided I'm hot so they support me, which is also weird, and kids think I'm cool because of the ectoblasts and can fly. They usually gush about being saved like ‘omg it’s Phantom’ which is still weird but not as surreal as anyone actually thanking. But that dude was probably on retirement. He wasn’t someone I would expect to have any positive interaction with. Most people his age would try to exorcize me or something”

“That certainly isn’t an aster”

“Eh, I’m fine. Most are just yelling. Problems start when anti-ghost weapons, especially guns, get on the table but I can’t blame them for that one too”

“Dude, I cannot express how far from fine this is”

“You deserve gratitude Phantom” Kaldur added “You’re doing a lot of great work”

“If you say so”

“Also, can we go back to the guns? How often do the people you’re saving try to shoot you?” Artemis asked, raising her head from inspecting her arrows.

“Amity Park is to ghost hunters what Gotham is to crime rates in the USA. Should not be counted if you want something actually similar to reality. Of course they have guns to shoot ghosts. And, let me remind you, I am a ghost-”

“I think we can talk about it another time. How do you feel, Phantom?” M’gann interrupted from her seat, intensly not looking back at them. She once again was tense.

“Still weird as hell to be honest”

“Good weird or bad weird” she pressed on. Kaldur kinda wanted to know what made her do that.

“Good… I think? I know a lot of emotions because I hang out with Jazz Fenton and she pshychoanalizes everyone but I have no idea what to call this. I’m happy that he said this, ecstatic even. But I’m still confused and cautious. Some part of me keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop, for this man to come back, after realizing I’m evil ghost and call hunters and call me manipulative ecto-scum while looking me in the eyes and smile when I’m shot at”

“Did this happen? It’s a bit too specific to believe it didn’t” Wally announced.

“As if only once!” Phantom laughed in an almost hysterical way.

“Don’t think about it right now,” M’gann demanded “Do you want to tell us more about the thanks you got?”

Next words Phantom whispered as if he was sharing some important, sacred secret.

“When he squeezed my arm, it was such a gentle gesture. Such a gentle touch” he sounded on the verge of tears. 

“Was it?”

“Yeah... Sorry I’m such a mess over it” ghost muttered after a moment, trying to dry his face with his sleeve. It couldn’t be too helpful nor pleasant, considering his uniform was made mostly out of rubber.

“That’s alright”

“He was so kind and like… cautious too, y’know? Like he cared to not hurt me. When my dad pats me on the back, I’m left out of breath and have to do a few steps to not fall face first on the ground and he thinks I’m normal,” it was always a bit disturbing to hear Phantom talk about his family in present tense. They never mentioned it because they knew when it was bad idea to say something but it didn’t make these instances any less unnerving“And this random civilian seen me as Phantom, almost invulnerable and powerful ghost and chose to be gentle”

Nobody mentioned tears dropping from Phantom’s eyes and down his chin.

“That sounds nice” 

“It was. And I, like an idiot, stuttered ‘you're welcome’ and escaped as soon as I could” ghost grumbled, bringing himself back from the memory. Robin actually laughed, honest and open instead of the creepy giggle he used on all sorts of villains. Everyone else soon joined and between breaths someone choked out:

“I did this so many times. So many. I could probably buy a lollipop if I got a cent every time I did it. Maybe even two”

As soon as they weren’t at immediate risk of laughing to death Robin decided to risk it again by starting a captivating tale of clueless Batman holding a baby, getting pie as a present, getting pie in his face and few others.

When he finished, the comfortable type of silence stretched through the Bioship. Everyone was just contently resting, maybe even taking a nap before the ordeal of listening to Batman's ‘Every mistake you made today with sub and sub-sub categories’ lecture while keeping themselves from laughing after all the stories Robin just shared. Kaldur himself was almost asleep when Phantom whispered:

“Is it this nice the second time too?”

“Yeah. It’s even better when you start believing it”

[anakirui]

hot take ??

the only reason people say that "mafuyu and tsukasa have nothing in common" when presented with mafukasa parallels is because they equate mafuyu and tsukasa being similar to "tsukasa has depression" because the fandom equates mafuyu's personality to being depressed and nothing else.

it doesn't help that people (primarily younger people in the fandom) who DO believe in mafukasa parallels end up making the mistake of portraying tsukasa as depressed because as of right now he is not (although it's possible he was in past because of his Very Unclear Middle School Backstory but that's irrelevant)

anyways, mafuyu and tsukasa are narrative foils because their core personalities are built off of the concept of wanting to make the people around them— especially their families— happy.

they both developed personalities at a young age based on someone they looked up to. for tsukasa, it was seiichi amami's performance that inspired him to be a star— a hero that could cheer anyone up. for mafuyu, it was her mother taking care of her that inspired her to be a nurse— and you can see the similarities from there.

for mafuyu, her identity would first come into conflict when her mother expressed her want for mafuyu to be a doctor— suddenly, "everyone's" happiness didn't match what she wanted to do, leaving her in a state of disorder and eventual depression.

for tsukasa, his identity was something he nearly forgot in its entirety at the start of the main story— becoming arrogant and fully absorbed in a hero persona, forgetting the kind person he truly is. furthermore, his current character arc seems to be foreshadowing that what "being a star" to him is going to be called into question— maybe it is something more than just being the main character that saves everyone.

their insecurities are incredibly similar.

in mafuyu's first mixed, mafuyu feels insecure towards ichika because unlike ichika, she feels as if her lyrics have no genuine meaning to be expressed to other people— despite them being her very real feelings. this is brought up again in her second mixed as well.

in tsukasa's third focus event, something similar happens. when watching seiichi's performance, he thinks that his acting is "real" and feels inferior towards him, which is ironic because tsukasa has been method acting this whole time. when tsukasa is acting out rio or bartlett or really anyone at this point in the story, it's not just those characters— it's a reflection of his traumas.

just like mafuyu, tsukasa undermines his passions he's poured his feelings into because someone else's work is more genuine in his eyes.

now, then, foils have many similarities and parallels (and i could honestly list a lot more), but how i define them is that they usually have some kind of major branching difference that MAKES them foils.

for mafuyu and tsukasa it's pretty straightforward.

mafuyu's people pleasing behavior comes from external expectations and pressures— her mother's demands.

tsukasa's people pleasing behavior comes internally, from himself— if he can't meet his own standards, if he can't be the perfect big brother or the perfect star, then he is nothing.

and even then, there's some overlap.

tsukasa's behavior was indirectly encouraged by his mother praising him for being a "good big brother" over the phone instead of asking him if he was okay while home alone.

mafuyu's terrified to be herself around other people because she doesn't want to worry or bother them— she doesn't want to be a burden— and projects her mother's expectations onto them, not realizing that they would prefer the real mafuyu if they knew the truth.

and the concept of mafukasa being foils is most perfectly and blatantly portrayed in these two cards.

mafuyu, the marionette, sitting limp on the floor— puppeteered by her mother's demands and donning a mask to hide her true self.

tsukasa, the jester, standing above everything else— puppeteering silenced plushies— his feelings. he's not being completely honest with himself, and he doesn't even realize it.

mafuyu has cut her strings and ripped her mask in half. she has acknowledged her true feelings and expressed them to her mother, even if she had to run away in the end.

tsukasa has not yet cut his.

[mochinomnoms]

EXPAND ON SOMNO WITH MAL.

*slides in and poses* kay

Malleus just thinks you look so wonderful and peaceful, asleep in his bed. Most of the world fears him, even the ones that say they don't still dislike him, hate at worst. But you? You have no bias to influence your perception of him. You feel warm, safe, and content in his arms. How lucky is he to have such a sweet human as his beloved?

So...he can't help but watch you as you sleep. The rise of your chest, the furrow of your brows, even the snores you let out have him enthralled with you. He's just so in love with you and your entire being, so he can't help but let wandering hands, well, wander. After all, you told him he could if he ever wanted to.

His hands are ghosting over your skin, fingertips tracing down as he watches the goosebumps grown from his touch. Malleus, dressed in loose clothing and previously prepared to fall asleep next to you, takes his place by your side to lean down and press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

Then another to the tip of your nose, then two on each of your cheeks. Then under your chin. Then he's kissing down your neck, nuzzling in as he gingerly scrapes his teeth against the pulse point, reveling in your shudder. His hands are once again wandering, slipping under your clothes to massage and grope. As he pushes your shirt up so he can continue fluttering kisses down your chest, abdomen, on your stomach, bellybutton.

Malleus watches as you whimper and murmur unintelligible whispers, though he thinks he can make out his name among those, as he leaves gentle hickies along your hips. He thinks your sleepy gasps as his hands and mouth work you for his dicks are the cutest things. And, the moan that leaves your mouth, eyelids fluttering open and closed, as if you can really bring yourself to fully wake up, as he moves his length in you, gentle still as to not disturb you too badly.

Unfortunately (or fortunately perhaps) for you, you do wake up to the image of a flushed, open-mouthed Malleus looking at you reverently as he fucks you with so much love and tenderness, that you can't help but reach your arms for him so that he clutch you against him. It's like he wants your skin to meld with his, to become one with him, to never leave him without the feeling of you.

When you're both finished, you're even more exhausted than before, but a smile on your lips as you two fall asleep in each other's arms. Though, he's still in you as you do, so take that as you will.