#whale replies

[cetaceans-pls]

Not sure if this is an idea (or if it’s too late to submit ideas) but your Cool Bruce flirting with and flustering Jason for once was pretty fun! We’ve seen Bruce in King Tide be rescued by his hell hound of a boyfriend, what if the tables were reversed? (in any case love how you write our favourite middle aged struggling bat and his interpersonal relationships! Also adore how you write him and Damian together!)

never too late to ride the Cool Boy Bruce Wayne train!! this one's going to be a sequel to ram ventilation bc truly TRULY i'm so unwell over alpha!jason/beta!bruce :')

-

Jason remembers back in The Old Days, when life stretched long and sweet ahead of him and nights were filled with magic and butter yellow capes flapping by his knees in the wind, one singularly miserable experience of getting kidnapped by some shitheads who'd seen a kid wandering around a bookstore in too-nice shoes and gone a-ha!

Alfred couldn't have been much further than the other side of the store making polite conversation with the cashier, but he'd been picked up and spirited out back to an alley quicker than he could scream. He'd gone soft by that point, gotten used to living in the lap of luxury, and the instinct to bite and fight and spit and scream had come in too late, had kicked in when he'd been stuffed into the boot of a nondescript sedan.

He'd thrown up, he's pretty sure, weeping with a terror that he hadn't felt in a lifetime (about 8 months), sure that he was going to be killed and he was going to be missed and that's so so so much worse (who's going to take care of Alfred? And Bruce?) than when it was just him and it was just dying.

Afterwards, he'll find out that between abduction and recovery he was maybe missing for 25 minutes, though it had felt like a lifetime in that dark quiet little box (must've been an omen). Between the little tracker Jason has in all his shoes and half his socks and Bruce who'd been driving down to come meet them for lunch, the solution had come with the car screeching to a screaming halt, horns blasting and a lot of yelling. Jason couldn't tell what was going on, could just hear glass breaking and a fever pitch of screaming and his nose started running (even harder) because everyone's letting out every scent under the sun during whatever scuffle was going on in the front of the car.

He'd maybe thrown up a little more at that point, before the car boot had been wrenched open and there was Bruce, roiling in anger you usually couldn't scent on him even in the middle of a horrific fight, blood and glass embedded in his fist, shirt still foppishly unbuttoned that little bit too low down his chest.

"Hi Jason," he'd said, voice hoarse like he'd forgotten how talk for just a little bit, had forgotten how to be a human when he'd gone Crazy Mode, pulling out in front of the abductors' car before breaking the driver side window with keys clenched tight between fingers, foregoing any flashy moves to set his teeth on the man's throat and bite him unconscious.

Jason'll find all that out afterwards. In that moment, despite Bruce and his bloodied face and his bloodied hands and his bloody scent, Jason had wept then leapt into Bruce's arms, had felt so burnt up that someone had come that he'd forgotten to be a human too, crying and crying and pressing his face hard as he could against where Bruce's scent is rapidly going from hot bleached anger to barely-there warmth, the memory of warm bread you'd enjoyed just an hour before with a love of your life.

That's probably when he'd fallen, even if he hadn't known. Get you a man that'll punch a window out for you, that'll attempt to rip someone's throat out for you, that'll pick you up in amongst blood and wreckage and love you and love you and love you.

Here's hoping for a repeat performance, Jason thinks, shifting a little bit to try and get comfortable. It is, luckily, much less scary, because he's died before and everyone survived that incident, including himself.

By this point, the kidnappers could taunt him with a gun to his head and go boyo there're fates worse than death and all Jason would say is brother I'll give you a literal million dollars if you can name a single thing worse that I haven't already experienced.

So, no, the emotional stakes aren't as high today as they were way back then. It's just been a good long while since he was last properly abducted; he's just feeling nostalgic.

Besides, it's good for, like, enrichment purposes. Jason got picked up as easy prey because he's the no-name Alpha that netted the hottest commodity in the entirety of the Eastern seaboard, so the ties around his wrist aren't terribly professional both the kidnappers have already accidentally had their real names said out loud while manhandling him into the back of an SUV (though in all fairness the world is pretty full of Jeremies and Matthews). He could get up and go, but while nowadays he's opposed to trackers in his shoes he's still got them in half his socks, and today was a tracker-sock kind of day (they're the wooliest ones to hide the bug and it's been chilly, hey). He knows that once the time's come and the time's gone for his little plov dinner date with Bruce at the Turkmenistani restaurant over by 12th and Circuit, the hunting party's gonna come.

Bat's been getting some type of vicious again lately, after the situation with them little kiddies getting maimed working graveyard shifts with heavy machinery, and to be fair so had Jason, but the Red Hood's precision-designed to enact violence on evil-doers while Bruce... well. He built himself up for violence, sure, can mete it out really well when push comes to shove, but Bruce isn't made from violence, doesn't have that streak to him that, hysterically, most of his kids really really do. So Jason's taken it upon himself to act as a distraction for when B's gotten wound up too tight, and excuse to play-act violence so he can go back to what he's meant to be (some guy dressed as a tiny fuzzy mammal running around in the dark trying desperately to make sure kids and former-kids are okay).

Resting on this gentle thought, Jason briefly worms his way out of his ties to tug a sock that's running too low, before rebinding himself. He'd fuck around on his phone, but he's pretty sure a bright screen would be a giveaway even for abductors this low-level, so he unfocuses a little and instead delves into a oft-visited fantasy (him and Bruce cosplaying as average men in an average relationship warmly arguing over the cost of a bottle of good olive oil before going home to get nasty-disgusting on a 2nd-hand full-size mattress that has seen plenty of nasty-disgusting action).

He gets to a hot point where the olive oil's being used for undue purposes, scent starting to bloom a little, fresh cedar log on a smouldering fire, when the van he's in screeches to a halt and there is So Much Screaming.

Jason didn't really have time to brace for impact and will likely come out of it with a pretty bruised shoulder. Yeowch, he goes on the inside of his head, before once again slipping out of his restraints to take a look at what the hell's going on, how they could've gotten into a traffic accident going at a crawl in Gotham's snarling after-work congestion.

He sits up and leans forward just in time to see a bloody fist smash through the window while Jeremy screams at a pitch that's been unfamiliar since puberty hit. The glass doesn't shatter, but that makes it a little worse when the fist withdraws and most of a sheet of cracked window goes with it, violence ringed in glittering glass.

Matty the driver is also screaming like a choir boy, shrieks like a warbler on steroids when Jeremy gets hauled out of his seat and out through the window like he's been sucked into a Black Hole, spaghettified, when it's just Bruce in a downright demure turtleneck with most of a plate of glass hanging 'round by his elbow. Bruce isn't growling, doesn't have the throat for it, isn't raising his hackles, doesn't have the neck for it, doesn't even seem to be feeling very much at all while Jerry-boy screams and weeps and screams and weeps.

Bruce seems almost delicately unbothered as he picks Jeremy up like a ragdoll and bites down on his throat with teeth that should be too blunt for this, holding down just long enough for the man to pass out and go limp in his arms. Bruce spits out a mouth full of blood before setting the man down gently in the scattering of glass on the ground. Jason looks on and he knows he reeks at this point, knows he's salivating and he's growling and his hackles are up because he's built for it and he's hot for it, and takes a short moment to think that maybe he's underestimated, a little bit, Bruce's instinctive capacity for violence.

Bruce doesn't pay him any mind, because there's still a Threat here, still Matty in the driver's side, but this is in fact a non-issue because when Bruce starts reaching for Matthew, doesn't even bother to pull the door open because he doesn't need more than the space of a car window to deal a reckoning, well. Matty yells like his blood's curdling in his veins, and then he passes out, a complete cessation of terrified Alpha scent.

Then and only then does Bruce turn to look to the back, face looking almost serene but for another man's blood limning his mouth. "Hi, Jason," he says a little hoarsely, like he'd forgotten how to be a regular person for a little bit there. "I found you," he says a little messily, like he's re-finding what it means to be a lot human and his heart's crawling out his throat. "Are you hurt?"

Quite despite himself, Jason finds himself with tears burning his eyes out. "I'm good," he says, voice like sandpaper-on-sandpaper violence. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"Always," Bruce says with the hot-hearted grim confidence of a man who has bare-knuckle punched his way through car windows repeatedly to get to Jason and will keep on doing so for the rest of his natural life.

Jason can barely stifle a shudder. "Sorry I missed our date."

Bruce shrugs. "I got takeout in the car," he says mildly, tugging the backdoor open to help Jason out. The 'car' in question is one of Bruce's jaguars, an expensive black, with the bonnet crumpled wildly on account of having smashed into the front right side of the kidnapper's SUV. He sees Jason looking at the destruction, and just smiles like a madman. "Don't worry, I put it in the backseat."

"Baby," Jason says, shudders racing after each other up-down his back as he thinks distantly of defiled second-hand mattresses, "I think we got better plans for the backseat than that.

[stealingyourbones]

Re: Danny makes whale sounds and Aquaman can understand them

So the JL needs something from the Ghost King for something and they find a way to get Danny there (summing or asking Constantine or something). When he gets there the JL are trying to convince him to help but they can’t understand what he’s saying. He’s not using English to communicate but they thought he would be able to (maybe it’s a trust thing or maybe there’s something wrong and he can only speak with his core). He recognizes Aquaman from when he has visited the whales and gets really excited and so he starts talking to him using whale-song and the rest of the JL is like “wtf?” And Arthur is just responding without a second thought and translating for Danny.

JL is very confused as to why the Ghost King is a teenager who speaks whale but ohwhale what can you do.

OG post. Follow Up Post

thanks for the pun that felt like someone slapped me in the face with a dead tuna. That was glorious.

It's such a beautiful and soft sound. It's eerie in a way but it's gentle and sweet.

One day that soft whale song turns into a bellow. one that sounds like a thousand whales crying out in agony and pain.

the Ghost King isn't remotely nearby, but everyone heard it. They didn't understand the language but they knew exactly what it entailed.

Someone hurt the sweet soul who spoke in whale song. Someone hurt them very very badly. That person must pay.

[orcinus-veterinarius]

Some people already said that with Keiko. Though tech he was no longer in the sea pen. -_-

Very true unfortunately ☹️ a lot of people have also convinced themselves that he was actually just fine out there and use him as a poster child for why releases work.

It’s possible releasing him killed him. He was only in the wild for about a year before he died, and he was never a robustly healthy whale. But his cause of death was pneumonia, something that routinely kills both wild and managed cetaceans. He was also 27, close to the average life expectancy of 30 years for male orcas (though they can and do live longer, and nowadays there are multiple 30+ year old male orcas in human care).

To me, the real tragedy of Keiko isn’t that he died. That’s a big part of it—I still do think he would’ve lived longer if he hadn’t been released. It’s that he died alone. This incredibly social animal died alone because people decided it was better for him to die in an attempt to reunite him with wild orcas than to let him have the company of humans—which is what he wanted.

[paulgadzikowski]

[vickyvicarious]

I love Ishmael. I remember how in retrospect Jonathan has at times a bitter sense of humor, but Ishmael begins Like That, as he's depressed from the start.

Yeah, Ishmael is such an interesting voice. Because right from the start, he's throwing his hands up and taking a break from life on land, essentially. He's had enough. He's flinging himself into whaling regardless of the many death omens warning him away danger. So we get that from him right away, but also, the narrator Ishmael is someone who has already lived through this whole awful story, and sometimes it sure does show! It adds a neat layer to some of his narration, but isn't necessary for all of that bitter humor since he had that from the start as well. (And also just. Lame puns. Ishmael loves his wordplay.)

Jonathan's bitter humor feels entirely earned within the course of the things he's suffered, and definitely doesn't all read like the kind of joke he'd have been making if he never went to Castle Dracula. (There's one line in particular I'm thinking of...) Not so with Ishmael. And honestly, I really really enjoy Ishmael's voice. His jokes are funny (especially in the way he goes for x3 combos) but also even the parts that aren't him specifically making a joke but just getting all worked up and grandiose, or judgy, or rather lackadaisical and cynical about things... it's all really engaging to read and often very funny. I had it in my head, never having read Moby Dick before, that it was a very serious slog of a tragic tale (I figured the episodic substack would help me to get through it, not that I'd be waiting around tapping my feet for more). And while there's a lot of serious and tragic stuff, this isn't a slog at all and is actively amusing too.

[greypetrel]

HI ARJA I’m so curious about your moby dick AU lol you always have the best AUs

HI ROWAN I'm glad you asked! :D It's gonna be a big ass rant, so it's under the cut. I'm very excited about this AU, it tackles some things I love and have first-hand experience of, so yeah, I'll be chatty about it ahahahah.

I've posted a chapter at random on AO3 and you can find some snippets in the whale au tag!

So, it's "Zoologist Aisling who thinks whales are the best thing after sliced bread saves Cullen, who happens to have survived a shipwreck caused by a whale". Shenanigans happen.

It was an idea of @shivunin (thank you again) and I'm currently trying to give it a little outline not to go totally at random. I am thinking about characters background, it's a non-magical AU and so stuff needs to be adapted. The title of the WIP is old, I realised after that... You know, it's a Moby Dick INSPIRED thing. The first idea was having Aisling as Melville and Cullen as Ishmael teaming up to write Moby Dick. Cullen has the sailing parts, Aisling filling in with conspiracy theories about whalers and spite over naturalists. And both of them inserting a gay relationship because I'm still a big part of the Bi!Cullen agenda, and that book is terribly gay.

I did realise later on that there's a limit to the horrors I'm willing to put characters through and write, and cannibalism is really NOT one. I also moved it to another period and to the 1900s because I already did research for another original project and I'm more familiar with it.

The title of the file will change when I'll have a better one for this AU.

For now I do have a background for Aisling, what she's in Nantucket to do, and I'm so happy to say @melisusthewee jumped on the bandwagon aboard with Quinn and Horatio, but I'm letting her introduce you to them in this. I'll just say that Aisling refers to Quinn as "Mr Arch-Nemesis".

She's in Nantucket for a research over sperm whales behaviour, restore her family's name (dad was a scholar too, but alas, he was caught being a member of the Fenian society and giving money to the Irish revolutionaries... She's the Royal Society's favourite person, yes) and hopefully put a brake on whale hunting (the 1900s saw the peak of killed whales, you can bet miss "I'd adopt a dragon if Bull didn't constantly prevent me to try and befriend one" won't be ok with it). Dorian and Josephine -whom I couldn't fathom being there with her, seriously I can't picture Dorian on a ship if not in first class, unless he was beaten unconscious before boarding and dragged on. Josie finances ships, sure... but being on board of one and working? A whole different thing. So, they're Aisling friends, but they stayed in London to get her fundings.

Cullen needs to find reason to get to the sea again, he was a harpooner and worked on ships all his life... After being the sole survivor, he needs to find his centre back and get on with it. The crazy whale fangirl may or may not help him on this.

And there was only one bed, of course. (have I already said that Moby Dick is VERY gay?) (I had a blast reading it, thank you so much @salsedinepicta for making me curious about it! <3 Also if you want to throw your characters in this GO ON.)

I thiiiink I may change names and design and also do something fully original. I'm particularly enthusiastic about it because it allows me to tackle stuff I experienced in my life (I did some sailing! Very little and purely recreational, but still) and to re-use some research I already did for another original project which I love dearly, but it's definitely more than I can chew on my own. If I don't chicken out because the place is linked to some trauma, I maaaaay add a part in the seaside town I spent a lot of time growing up.

But again, let's see how it goes, researching on Italy isn't the easiest thing ever if you're not aiming at Rome or the Renaissance, and we're talking about a pretty regional side of Italy. I have good hopes because the people are very very very much into their own history and claiming it back, so I may find some good infos without spitting too much blood.

it's a work in progress, but there's gonna be more about this!

[altered-and-broken]

WELL UH ATLEAST CUDA WILL SEE AN OLD “FRIEND” *fucking runs*

"... P-Prism..." "Y-yeah! She's been tearing out trees left and right, eating like crazy and killing everything in her path for a while. It was barely managable, but she got REALLY agressive about it these last nights and I don't know what to do anymore, man...

Worst part, is that the way I see her I think she's either very broody or just- uh- generally not very happy, heheh...-"

Another tree falls, with more force this time. Like if it was thrown into the earth with such rage and spite. Leaving the two triangles more that concerned, and honeslty afraid for their health.

"... Come on, you gotta do something!"

"Like what!? I am NOT going to hurt her."

"Well I don't know! Talk to her pretty, calm her down, restrain her, anything! Because the way she is right now, she's either: A. Going to kill someone, or B. Get herself hurt and we don't want that!"

"C-come on man! She's 14 tons heavier than me! I literally CAN'T do anything against her, even if I wanted to!"

"It's not about that."

"T-Tree! What's going on outside!?-"

The others try to peek out, before being pushed back by the Tree. All except Boat who wanted to check on Heli.

"Wave! Everyone!

Stay. Inside.

And DON'T COME OUT!"

"That is no ordinary beast...

Whatever you brought here Heli, I'm NOT going to let it hurt you."

"Boat, what do you think you're doing!?

Boat!!"

Boat however, did not listen, and instead went ahead to rummage through his ship to find a certain trinket he used a lot in his voyages to the deep seas. He knows it's only for marine monsters, but it still was functional enough to work.

"Boat! What are you-!"

Heli's cries were silenced once he resurfaced from his ship, a cold, harsh gaze fixed on the thick foliage...

"Don't worry Heli."

[hwestil]

I think Ishmael is absolutely correct about all these death omens he keeps seeing. They are just a coincidence and nothing bad will happen to him on his imminent embarkation.

[antiqueanimals]

Got any orcas! They're my favorite animal!

1.) Wilhelm Eigener (1904-1982)

2.) Archibald Thorburn (1860-1935)

3.) Mammifères d'Europe. 1970.

[cetaceans-pls]

Might I ask for your thoughts on brujay doing incredibly inane and domestic activities like making hot chocolate in these cold and trying times?

hey anon! this is rather late (you would not, uhm, possibly Could Not imagine the 2024 i've had) and is neither inane nor domestic BUT it does involve hot chocolate so i hope this meets your desires:

☕️

They really should be better stocked, for how often they do this kind of thing. Fresh out of a scene, regardless of Bruce's personal preferences (to be left alone in the dark and quiet in a manner most unhealthy), Jason's pretty insistent on topping (!!) up the man with something warm and sweet, in the instances where he can't maneuver him into eating a 4 course meal.

UNfortunately, today's fun little aside took place at Jason's place instead of the Manor, and while he takes pride in a well-stocked kitchen, he does not have a sweet tooth. There're porcinis and pie dough, black garlic and Iberico ham in the fridge, but nothing sweet and nothing already made.

God, never mind Bruce, Jason's inching near a drop at the Concept of an un-well-fed man.

"It's no issue," Bruce says, bundled up in Jason's minutely, marvelously larger pyjamas. He's drinking tea, just tea, on account of Jason's trying to get him to dry-swallow warmed honey.

"Babe, it's an issue beyond belief." Jason's pacing, upset and getting upsetter. He's nursing a hot cup of coffee; this is likely ill-advised, but he needs to be alert. If he'd been Alert when he went grocery shopping on Tuesday? This wouldn't have happened!!

"Jason," Bruce says, gentle hand at heavy elbow. "Stand ready."

And Jason does, hindbrain kicking in, widening his stance and squaring his shoulders, perfectly set up for a wide receive. Bruce slumps into him, a happy lazy weight. "The bodega's open," Bruce says, face smashed into Jason's bare arm. "Let's get some snacks."

-

It's cold and wet outside, a classic Gotham February evening, but the bodega is genuinely genuinely 1.5 minutes away, and the hem of their pyjama pants barely barely get wet by the time they roll in.

Sergei's at the counter, and puts down the bat when he sees Jason's face, lights up and waves instead. It's a loving friendship! It's built on mutual trust and very warm affection (they took down a robber together while Jason was in for a beer at 2 AM years and years ago, but the robber had turned out to be a particularly tall 15-year-old kid trying to get some cash before school starts so's he could get a new bag for his sister so instead Sergei'd closed shop and they'd sat on the back step eating ice cream sandwiches. Jason Venmo'd some cash for a nice backpack and then some, and Anton comes by for time-and-a-half shifts on Thursdays and Saturdays, and had in fact gotten both Jason and Sergei some cute-as-shit Christmas ornaments little Shayla'd painted for them, my god, my god)!

Bruce, in classic Bruce manner, has shuffled off straight to the quaint little magazine rack. If their luck turns for the better, he might even find a, a Sudoku puzzle book, or something, God. Jason pulls out his shopping bag from his back pocket (it's bright blue with little sailboats, and it was a gift from Damian after he'd gone on a little school little trip to the Cheasapeake bay, and it's damn near his most prized possession, my god, my god). He's not very discerning about what he grabs, just makes sure he can make 'em warm and he can make 'em sweet.

He grabs toaster waffles (for toasting), grabs Nutella (for the waffles), grabs pastelitos (for himself). He's mulling over 3 different brands of shitty garbage glorious hot chocolate when there's a quiet "Stand ready," and a heavy weight falls unto him.

"My ol' ball and chain," Jason says with a snort, with so much damn embarrassing affection. "Which of these do you prefer?"

"Please don't make me drink something with a cartoon character on it," Bruce says glumly, knowing full well what Jason's going to do.

"Nesquik it is," Jason says heartily, saying hello to the bunny boy. "I'll whip up breakfast for dinner when we get back, and baby you're gonna eat all of it. Anything else you want?"

A brightly-coloured crossword puzzle book gets slid into his shopping bag so stealthily he almost misses it. "Anything else?"

"Mmm," Bruce murmurs in a low hum, relaxed in the extreme because Sergei's seen far worse than this from them, and they too have an unshakeable bond (Bruce helped a lady give birth by the 'fresh' veg aisle literally 3 weeks ago). "You did a good job," he continues, leaning even more heavily, a big cat asleep stood up. "You're doing a good job." He presses a kiss to Jason's temple, to Jason's chin, Jason's nape. "You're my good boy."

Boy, boy oh boy, oh oh boy. Jason shudders so hard he almost dislogdges his guy, ouagh. Turns out what stops a drop better than a 4-course-meal is the shitheaded love of your life whispering something nonsensical (something loving) into your ear, oh my oh my oh my.

He's also now, uhm, more than a little hard. "You're such a jackass," Jason says, turning to the side so's he can give some kiss-kiss-kisses back.

"Too much hanky-panky!!" Sergei bellows cheerfully from behind his bulletproof glass, and Bruce just laughs and steps away, hands held up in gentle apology.

"Hurry up, Jason," Bruce says, stepping towards the register with a crooked smile. "Night's still young."

Jason barely resists baring his teeth. It's 2 AM, and he's gonna have Bruce drink his Nesquik, then have breakfast for dinner, and then he's going to fucking Destroy him (my god! my god!).

[jack-o-phantom]

With the way Mer Eclipse looks it looks like his voice would be incredibly deep and sound like a loud echo within your own head.

I mean, with the size of whales and their own vocals I'd guess so too! Seeing a biblical-leviathan would be nothing short of that

[terrytheinsane]

My favorite g/t trope is when T is scared of falling off high places even though being really small means your terminal velocity (maximum speed at which you can fall) is greatly decreased and T could probably fall off the roof of a 5 story building and only get scratched.

[paulgadzikowski]

[mellowmoonmoved]

thinking about this one conversation from like september

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

exposition and world building "dumps" can be fine or even good if the exposition and world building are fun to read about and it doesn't last that long.

[ send ur unpopular opinions ]

it's a matter of how it's written tbh!! like i LOVE exposition and lore dumps but they must be implemented properly like idk why people are like "omg the lore is explained to the characters in school thats lame" thats. literally the best way to explain the lore easily lmao???

my only real problems with loredumps is when it's presented: A) written like a wikipedia article B) starting with "as you know"

[maskednihilism]

@shallliveoninsong replied to your post “ooc. Not spoilers, just pulls! As I told Ghostie I...”:

◇ SCREW YOU FOR GETTING LUOCHA BEFORE ME

​ooc. Ehe