:)

[duckdotcom]

wearing sky-colored shoes to hide from the devil. earth colored hat to hide from god

[ancient-debris]

Iron breastplate to ward off fairies, Fishnet leggings to ward off cod.

[frightfullytreeish]

[solarchaotica]

[static-mutt-left-deactivated202]

You're evil and you know it

[communismlives]

good thing they're hidden from god and the devil

[cowardsexual]

stratt and grace and the rest of the phm science team running on 4 cumulative hours of sleep at an unscheduled conference. dimitri and lokken are trying to explain a new complication in the hail mary's fueling system and the resources necessary to iron it out but they keep getting interrupted by government officials butting in until grace (who doesn't even look up from his laptop and checked out of the conversation two days ago) snaps "we raise our hands to speak"

complete silence for like 3 seconds. the french prime minister sheepishly raises his hand and stratt smiles for the first time that week (grace buries his entire head behind his laptop screen for wont of a better option, like jumping straight into the sea)

[punishandenslavesuckers]

This is specific to me and me alone, but I personally want Gojo's posthumous letter to Maki to be absolutely nothing except the exact location and method to unseal the Inverted Spear of Heaven. Zero context for what he expects her to do with it. No touching note about how he trusts her alone or something. Just a goddamn geo-location and instructions like "lol this was sealed unless I specifically die, then it's gonna unseal in like 4 months. GO GET IT."

Maki side quest to go get this fucking thing and get consumed lowkey by the legacy of it all. It's fine. Everyone just keeps handing her uniquely terrible weapons as they die and leave her with vague mandates to, like, destroy things.

[punishandenslavesuckers]

God. Do I need to write a Yuta/Maki side quest fic where they just go on a goddamn treasure hunt together and discuss the various crimes of their dead teacher? Like...

Maki: Hey, Yuta. How would you like to go on a road trip with me?

Yuta, his no-so-secret crush running wild: Uh, yeah. Of course. Um, it's kind of a crazy time to just... go on a vacation right now but...

Maki: Oh. No. It's not a vacation. Gojo left me a treasure map to a jujutsu sorcery nuke that he buried in Mongolia. I figure you and I together are enough firepower to defend our claim if we get hold of this thing and anyone tries to steal it.

Yuta, visibly disappointed and alarmed: Oh... that's... less fun. Okay.

Maki: We can make out while we do this tho. This is, like, my ideal date.

Yuta: ....... god I'm so into you. Sorry.

[buff-shizun]

What if Shen Yuan, instead of being trasmigrated into Shen Qingqiu, was reborn into an infant much earlier in the timeline of PIDW?

In the spring of the same year as Shen Jiu is born, Shen Yuan wakes up as the infant son of an Army General.

He hates it. Infants have no dignity, and new layers of Shen Yuan's already thin face shave off with every diaper change and feeding. So! To stave off the growing cracks in his mental state, he starts focusing on the world around him.

As an infant, he figures he must be in some hacks half-assed historical fantasy or something. At three years of age, he decides that, more likely, it's some sort of Wuxia-Xianxia mix with an emphasis on...well, he's not entirely sure, but there's a lot of hidden politics his military family has to deal with, so. Maybe it's something like Game of Thrones?

It isn't until he’s started being taught military strategy and how to read that he starts seeing familiar names. After all, what are the chances of all four Cultivation Clans of PIDW being named in one book?

So.

So...

Yeah, no. Shen Yuan loses his shit.

Some time later (much, much later), Shen Yuan has the wherewithal to start scouting around. The good news is, he's several years away from the start of PIDW's plot, and even more before he would have to worrying about the Realms Merger Luo Binghe would wrought upon them all.

The bad news is that he may not even have to worry about any of that; because while the land Shen Yuan's family currently lives on is at peace, it's tentative at best, and Shen Yuan is next in line to be General of the Nation's army.

--

Many years later, Luo Binghe is ten years old, slowly traveling from town to town on his way to Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, when he meets what he would later realize is the love of his life.

Walking a well-used path between towns, his bad luck had caught up with him when a young master in a carriage took exception to the sight of him and, as young masters always did, decided to harass and bully the poor defenseless child in their sight line. Lou Binghe was just starting to regret ever being born when he hears the sounds of hoof beats catching up to their position.

"Make way!" A stern voice shouts. "Make way for the Army!"

The young master's party tries, but their master is prideful and a fool, and thus refuses. It turns out the young master is of some higher rank (with nothing better to do than cause trouble) and so the moment he is told to move, he digs his feet in. A confrontation starts.

Binghe tries to subtly scuttle away, but he's grabbed before he can go far and thrown to the ground between the two parties- used as a scapegoat for why the young master is being so obstinate. He knows- from years of watching servants take the fall- that the next few minutes are likely to hurt real bad.

But then the clouds part, and under a ray of gentle light, a voice calls out amongst the army men. Binghe dares glance up, just in time to see the rugged men part for another man on horseback.

He's different from the others. Oh, he had the build, the armor, and his hair was tied up tight in a bun, making him seemingly indistinguishable from the others, but there was something there that called all eyes to him. A silent assurance, or maybe just a quiet gravity.

Binghe feels himself fill with cautious awe.

"Why have we stopped? What is the issue?"

"Apparently this child is blocking the road." The leading soldier informed.

"That's right, this little runt refused to move for his superiors! The Master will not be moving until some proper respect is beaten into him!"

The man on horseback turns to him then. All awe dies. Binghe's heart sinks. There is a cold analysis in that gaze, and-

No. No, wait. Even as Binghe's heart fell...did those eyes gain a hint of warmth?

"I see." The man speaks. "So a single lost child is enough to ruffle the young master's feathers like this? How great your house must have fallen, that it cannot ignore a single slight from an orphaned boy."

The young master seethes, "You-!"

The man turns to the leading soldiers, cutting him off with a swift order- "Move Them," -then in a smooth, well-practiced move, swings off his horse and lands in the dirt with a gentle, heavy thud.

Binghe watches him with eyes wide- and getting wider as he approaches Binghe's kneeling self and drops to bended knee right in front of him.

"You've found some trouble, child."

Ah! A scolding! Binghe's cheeks flush with shame, his wide stare dropping to his hands. "This lowly one is sorry! This lowly one did not mean to cause trouble for you-"

"Stop. I'm not criticizing you." A warm hand lands on his head, and Binghe nearly gasps aloud. "What's your name? Where are you going?" A small pause. "You've been injured; let me bandage that for you."

For the next little while, Binghe basks in the care of a total stranger. He tells his name, his life story, and for the first time since his mother's death, feels as if he is really and truly being seen.

"Cang Qiong, huh?" The man, plain and indistinguishable from any other soldier at first appearance- oh, but Binghe will never forget his face now. He stares at the man's features as long as he dares, determined to memorize every line and scar and out of place strand of hair. "I can't take you all the way there, but if you don't mind sharing a horse and promise to hide if trouble comes knocking, I see no reason we can't take you a town close by."

Forget memories, he needs to know this man's name now!!

--

He shares a horse with the man (Shen Yuan!). Others offer, but for the second time in Binghe's life, he dares to hide behind someone's legs and clings to the man's pants. (It was entirely impulse, and he scolded himself for it viciously, but Shen Yuan- proving Binghe's mother right that there are kind people in the world still- laughed. Laughed!)

Binghe had never ridden a horse before, but Shen Yuan was so kind. He taught him how to get on, helped him up the entire way, guided him on the best way to sit and hold the resigns; and when Shen Yuan climbed up himself, Binghe didn't feel nervous about their closeness at all.

In fact, an hour into the ride, Binghe fell into a light doze. He couldn't help it. Shen Yuan was warm and sturdy, and Binghe was small and tired. It was bound to happen, and he only woke up when new sounds reached his ears.

When camp was made, Shen Yuan shared his food with him. When it was time to sleep, he didn't mind that Binghe clung to his side and refused to go anywhere else. When Binghe got scared to relieve himself in the forest at night, Shen Yuan would sigh, pat his head, and say "Alright, I'll go with you. But only the once, got it?" And Binghe would happily agree; but by that point they both knew if Binghe asked, Shen Yuan would indulge him. A week of this, and even the other soldiers would tease them for becoming "father and child on the way to war."

Traveling through towns was the best, though. Shen Yuan told the best stories, and when he saw things in the markets or food in the stalls, he would point at them and tell Binghe stories of "that time I ripped some drunk a new one for messing with a girl," and "when I was younger I accidentally broke my mother's prized necklace and spent the next month trying to hide it from her."

They couldn't really stop in town, but at one point Shen Yuan decided to wait until they'd made camp and eaten before taking Binghe on the speediest ride back into town of his life- and all to get him a bath and change of clothes.

A bath! A warm, clean bath! And he wasn't weird about it at all, like some of the street kids told him adults could be! He even bought Binghe's new clothes with his own personal coin! (It wasn't new, and the colors were a little faded, but it was clean and sturdy and bought just a little bigger than Binghe's size- but most importantly, it was His! His, and a gift from the man who was quickly becoming his favorite person!)

All in all, Binghe- oh, Binghe didn't want to leave Shen Yuan at all!

And then he overheard it.

It was a town close to Binghe's last shared destination with Shen Yuan. The townsfolk were quieter there, and when they saw the soldiers, they all murmured and stared as they passed, quiet and solemn. Like the wake of a funeral.

Binghe tentatively called up to Shen Yuan, unnerved.

"Hm?" He followed Binghe's eyes, sighed, and pat his head. "Don't worry, Binghe. They're just worried."

Later in camp, Binghe asked more about it; and that's when he learned what an Army was. Really learned.

"You could die?"

The firelight made odd shadows on Shen Yuan's face, but for a second Binghe thought he saw somberness settle there.

"That's right."

"Why?" Binghe asked- and he knew he shouldn't, but a new fear had grown in him and the image of Shen Yuan cold and still on a battlefield, injured so bad he died, all alone without Binghe there to help- oh, it made his little heart tremble and made his eyes burn with tears.

"Orders from our dearest Emperor," another soldier chimed in, poking their fire with a stick. Shen Yuan called his name in a scolding tone, but another soldier cut in just as quickly.

"You see, the mortal realm's Emperor decided fighting with our neighbors was better than brokering peace."

Shen Yuan tried to scold him too, but Binghe beat him to it with another "Why?"

"Enough. Binghe does not need to hear-"

Another man- one that spoke to Shen Yuan frequently with information and questions- stepped in then. "Captain, he of all people needs to hear. You'll be parting soon, doesn't he have the right to know why you might not meet again?"

And Binghe learned. He learned that the current Emperor of the mortal realm was recently instated. That he was young and tyrannical and bore no insult, no matter if insult was meant or had ever existed in the first place. Executions were plentiful, relations with old neighboring allies were failing, negotiations with opposing neighbors were falling apart, and in fact the only person here in this camp that had come out of any sort of willingness was Shen Yuan, as the son of a General. The others had been enlisted very much against their will with little expectation to make it out alive, let alone gain anything from their misery.

Why? Because the Emperor had perceived insult from an envoy negotiating peace, had them locked up, and when the country they came from refused to apologize for some imagined slight, the Emperor had lost it and had the envoy executed before the whole capital.

Binghe had never hated someone before, but now, knowing that it would be on this man's orders that his Shen Yuan could die...

"Let me come with you."

The soldiers laughed at him. It wasn't mean-spirited, just sad and knowing, and Binghe understood even if he didn't like it. What would a ten year old do on the battlefield? Die, that's what.

Shen Yuan pulled him over into his arms before Binghe could really start crying, sitting him in his lap and rocking him side to side.

"It'll be alright. Even if I do die, I won't go."

"You won't?" Binghe hiccups into his chest. His small arms cling to Shen Yuan's sides, and Shen Yuan holds him almost exactly how his mama used to.

"Of course not. Binghe wants me to stay, so how could I die?"

There's a smattering of laughs behind him, and Binghe pouts. "Don't joke!"

"Not joking, not joking," Shen Yuan soothes with lightness in his voice- definitely laughing then! "I'm very serious. The most serious. Binghe doesn't want me to go, so even if I die, I'll stay and wait for Binghe to find me; how does that sound?'

Binghe sniffles, "Sounds good."

"Good. Then it's a deal: as long as Binghe wants me, I won't move on to the next life. I'll wait right where I fell, I promise."

Binghe would prefer a promise to live, but even he knew that wasn't one a person could keep. Atleast this way, even if Shen Yuan wasn't alive, Binghe could still keep him. Maybe...maybe he could even find a way to bring him back? If cultivation magic was real and demons walked amongst mortals, then why not bringing back the dead?

--

Their parting isn't happy in that final town. Everyone knew Binghe had to go. Binghe knew he had to go. Yet, when Binghe looked up at Shen Yuan, he could see the soldier struggling with himself. His hold on Binghe's hand was firm, and it tightened when Binghe adjusted his hand inside it before finally letting go.

Just like the first time they met, Shen Yuan moves to kneel before him.

"You'll be safe? Stay out of trouble? Cang Qiong isn't far; if you're scared, I can take you the rest of the way..."

Binghe shakes his head. "You can't. The Emperor won't like it."

Shen Yuan purses his lips. Binghe likes to think he knows the man very well now, and so he swears he can almost hear Shen Yuan say "Damn the Emperor!" in his mind. It makes him smile.

The soldier moves on. "Food then? Water? Do you have enough? Should I give you coin for an Inn? A bath might be good if you want to make a good first impression on Cang Qiong."

"The boy will be fine, Captain. You've given him everything he'll need. If you give anymore, you'll end up giving him half our supplies and go broke."

Binghe and Yuan both pout at the man: Binghe, for interrupting their goodbye, and Shen Yuan for denying his need to care for (spoil) Binghe with his Logic. Still, the logic was sound. Binghe had to convince Shen Yuan not to give him his entire coin pouch as a parting gift.

(Binghe loves this man. He's too young to know what kind of love it is at the moment, but when he's fifteen and discovering the existence of romance for the first time, he'll think back on these long weeks with Shen Yuan and Know.)

It takes awhile for Shen Yuan to drag himself away. Binghe doesn't even try to put distance between them, watching Shen Yuan mount his horse like- like a man off to war.

The procession leaves slowly, each soldier yelling out their own farwell as they pass. Binghe waves to them as they call, but his eyes cling to Shen Yuan, not wanting to miss a second.

Shen Yuan glances back frequently over his shoulder. Their eyes meet more than once, and each time Binghe feels a jolt in his heart. Will Shen Yuan turn around? Will he take him with him after all?

He never does. Eventually the soldiers take a turn on the path and disappear behind the trees.

Alone, Binghe makes his way to Cang Qiong Mountain.

--

There's a phrase he hears on Qing Jing that doesn't quite process until he’s knee deep in the demon realm, amassing power at an alarming rate: "A General must follow an Emperor."

Now, sitting on a throne under the roof of a Palance that belongs solely to him, he thinks, "If Shen Yuan must swear fealty, let it be to someone who will never send him to his death pointlessly- or send him to his death at all."

[confuzing]

Luo Binghe: I mean I'm already Emperor of one realm... I could totally do both...and then Shen Yuan would follow me...

[ashfly]

different thought, but Binghe at the tea ceremony, making his speech to his new Shizun (not his Shizun, Shen Jiu/Qingqiu not Yuan), his little baby self answering why he wants to be a cultivator and -

His thoughts drift away from his mother, to a different kind face. "When another does you a kindness," he does not fidget, his mind distant but focused on this moment. "You need strength."

He pauses. "No...when someone is kind, they can only give as much as they have, and you can only return as much as you have."

He breathes in, forcing his voice not to waver. "And when someone is kind, but weak," his mind flashes to his mother, health waning in sickness. "Strong, but still outpowered," Shen Yuan, smiling even as he marched towards his end, "then they die, and their kindness, their protection, ends."

He smiles, then, eyes focusing back in the world near around him. "So if you want to repay them, you have to be strong. You have to not only protect them, but keep protecting them. You have to survive."

Unfortunately, I think Shen Jiu would dump tea on him within the second paragraph haha.

I can, however, see YQY nodding along to this speech, if this canon divergence would lead to him on a different peak.

[mintmatcha]

love arranged marriage unfortunately. the idea of being married to a knight who's not even in the city, but away on the front lines. it's a benefit for your family, so they dont even question sending you to his home to await his return...

[mintmatcha]

you meet him three months into the arrangement. He arrives after the sun has already set, his features set strong in the candlelight. His body is heavy with exhaustion and tension, his eyes dull and tired.

you've grown to hate this place, this castle gifted to him for war victories. The halls are barren, the garden yet to bloom. The maids are pleasant, but they keep their distance, as if you'll strike. Maybe your husband is the kind to hit. You wouldn't know.

When he looks at you, it's only in short bursts, his eyes suddenly low. There's a long stretch of silence between you and you consider introducing yourself, but decide against it. He knows who you are.

"The maid is drawing me a bath," he says suddenly and a sick feeling pours over you. This day was always coming, but you aren't sure you're ready to lay under a stranger.

"Am I expected to join?" you ask and his nose crinkles.

"No." He steps back and away. His departure is brisk and driven. You retire for the night by yourself and awake alone. Your husband is set to leave again in a few hours; a few soldiers have already gathered in the front garden.

"Don't you wish to give your new wife a goodbye?" one asks, unaware of your open window. "One night and you've already had your fill? Or has she been filled too much?"

"I refuse to believe she is real!" says another. "What kind of woman has worn down our brute and turned him into a family man? Should we expect a gaggle of children in the upcoming year?"

Your husband growls. "You will leave the poor lamb alone. She suffers enough."

That softens you. Just a bit. You rise from you bed and go to the window, leaning out enough to catch the men's attention.

"Until next time."

He watches you, expression caught between more emotions that you can count, then turns his gaze back to his mount. The two men share a look, wide, wide grins on their faces.

"Until next time," he repeats back.

[mintmatcha]

In his absence, he sends gifts. They are tiny things, sweets and oiled combs and scented oils and a porcelain figure of a cat, aimless in their direction towards you. Just simple niceties he could give to any woman in the world. You imagine he sends one to the lovers he has in every city as well.

(he must have lovers, you imagine. He hasn't touched you; he must be getting his fill with women in other cities, maybe women he actually loves. these are trinkets to keep his wife amused while she wastes away.)

none of the gifts come with a note.

one day a bolt of fabric arrives, yellow and ornate. It's only a small amount, not enough to make a dress, but enough for you to unravel and admire. It's beautiful and clearly expensive, golden threads woven into flowers and vines. Your father was a silk merchant; while you never wore the silks, you can recognize their quality.

the following week, the delicious man rides up on his steeds and presents a letter. The handwriting is rough. Knights that come from the lower class do not have the schooling of highborns; as fair as you know, your husband was born a street rat and worked his way theough the ranks to glory.

-I have been told by my secund that I did not send you enuf fabric for a gown. I do not no these things.

The spelling mistakes screw a smile out of you.

"Wait a moment." You stop the boy before he can leave. "I wish to send something back."

You take your time and use your finest calligraphy, tucking your note in with a handkerchief you had spent the week on. It's fine work-- one that would please even the hardest of hearts.

-Dearest husband,

Please take this handkerchief as a sign of my thoughts.

Your patient and thoughtful wife

A second letter arrives within the week.

-are you cros with me? A scrap of fabric for a scrap of fabric?

The response is what makes you cross. The poor messenger boy has to stay the night while you percolate over a response.

-Dearest, sweetest husband,

A handkerchief is a traditional gesture of affection. I have embroidered the edges by hand, with your last name and your roses, and it smells of my perfume. It is a piece of me for you to carry. If you do not appreciate my kindness or if you think it will turn away your lovers, you may return it. I do not wish it wasted on you.

Your less than patient and less than adoring wife

The poor boy scatters off in the morning and returns a few days later.

tortured wife,

I wil cherish it. I am sory, pour lam. I wil do better.

your loving husband

[punishandenslavesuckers]

I will say, I am tempted by the alternate universe of JJK where Yuta and Yuji knew eachother as kids in Sendai. Like, imagine Yuji's first supernatural experience wasn't his high school ghost-hunting club, but rather his grade-school bestie who was absolutely haunted by a big-ass cursed spirit that would throw him through walls sometimes.

Yuji giving Yuta the whole, "Welp, I don't know what's happening, but I won't let you be alone! I don't care if Rika is mean! We're friends!" thing.

And then they go solve ghost crimes together. Rika's like their ultimate evil Pokemon and Yuji can kick through concrete, and Yuta is like "I have the ultimate scary dog privilege... but I'm not alone? So... yay?"

I dunno, just something about baby Yuta and Yuji solve ghost crimes until the plot shows up. They're already co-dependently bonded. If anyone tries to hurt Yuta, they are met by A: Rika and B: Yuji Itadori who has fought ghosts since he was eleven and knows ball.

Redux of episode 1 is actually Rika/Yuta vs Sukuna/Yuji after Yuji desperately ate the cursed finger to stop Rika from eating it and becoming a truly unstoppable calamity. Megumi in the background calling Gojo like, "BRO! GET HERE NOW!!!! SHIT'S FUCKED!"

[cryptidblues]

It all started in Sendai

[punishandenslavesuckers]

When Yuji Itadori is twelve years old, he meets a ghost.

Well, okay, it’s probably not a ghost but it looks like a ghost, is coiled malevolently and desperately like he imagines a ghost might do—both monstrous but clinging to something human—and he’s too young to have a great vocabulary for what else to call this thing. Usually, he would follow Gramps’ advice and ignore spooky things, but the ghost is sitting on a bus-stop bench next to a kid.

The kid is wearing a West Junior High uniform.

It’s the third day of the school year. Yuji is struggling only moderately to remember the names of all his new classmates, and while he forgot where his locker was yesterday, a soft-faced girl named Ozawa helped him out and he’s decided she can be his middle-school crush. (You gotta have one of those after all!)

All and all, not so bad for the first week at his new school and he can safely tell Gramps that his success rate for Not Fighting Sons Of Bitches is at 100%.

But the ghost thing is weird for sure.

It’s like black smoke, coagulated into a sticky clot beside the kid, almost leaning on his shoulder like a big cat on its favorite zookeeper. It’s got physical weight. Yuji can see it where it rubs its face on the kid’s shoulder, his uniform ripples and deforms. The kid ignores it, but Yuji can see even from here there are bloody scratches along his inner forearms where his uniform is too short on him. He’s been crying.

“Hey,” Yuji says, stepping under the roof of the bus-stop bench. “You go to West Junior, right?”

The kid on the bench freezes and looks up from his shoes. His uniform doesn’t fit him very well. His sneakers look beat up, like his mom didn’t take him clothes shopping this year and he’s still wearing what he had from the end of grade school. His hair sticks up like iron-filings under a magnet, grown out kinda shaggy and getting into his eyes. He’s small for his age. Skinny.

Yuji points at him. “Yeah. I saw you at passing period. You’re a grade ahead of me, right?”

“I-I guess,” the kid stammers. “Are you, um, a first year?”

“Yup.” He hooks a thumb and points it at himself. “I’m Yuji Itadori. You wanna ride to school together? I get lost easy.”

“Oh. Uh, I don’t— Okay. I think that would be… that would be fine.” He keeps glancing anxiously at the shadow on his shoulder, which ignores Yuji and continues to coil on him like a rotting calico. “But just for a little while. Okay? We shouldn’t—” he swallows— “shouldn’t be friends.”

“Huh? Why not?”

“I’m, uh, not very popular. You’d be better off with—”

“What’s your name?”

“O-oh. Sorry. Okkotsu. Yuta Okkotsu.” “Okkotsu-senpai. Got it.” He sits down next to Yuta on the bench, opposite the dead thing that’s latched to him. “You wanna snack?”

TBC

[punishandenslavesuckers]

I will say, I am tempted by the alternate universe of JJK where Yuta and Yuji knew eachother as kids in Sendai. Like, imagine Yuji's first supernatural experience wasn't his high school ghost-hunting club, but rather his grade-school bestie who was absolutely haunted by a big-ass cursed spirit that would throw him through walls sometimes.

Yuji giving Yuta the whole, "Welp, I don't know what's happening, but I won't let you be alone! I don't care if Rika is mean! We're friends!" thing.

And then they go solve ghost crimes together. Rika's like their ultimate evil Pokemon and Yuji can kick through concrete, and Yuta is like "I have the ultimate scary dog privilege... but I'm not alone? So... yay?"

I dunno, just something about baby Yuta and Yuji solve ghost crimes until the plot shows up. They're already co-dependently bonded. If anyone tries to hurt Yuta, they are met by A: Rika and B: Yuji Itadori who has fought ghosts since he was eleven and knows ball.

Redux of episode 1 is actually Rika/Yuta vs Sukuna/Yuji after Yuji desperately ate the cursed finger to stop Rika from eating it and becoming a truly unstoppable calamity. Megumi in the background calling Gojo like, "BRO! GET HERE NOW!!!! SHIT'S FUCKED!"

[prettyboykatsuki-moved]

touch-starvation needs to be written with emphasis on the starving part. you are hungry to be touched. so hungry that even the very taste of it makes you nauseous. it has been long since anything has ever touched you, ever fed you - that your body has grown more used to that gnawing emptiness more than anything else. it's better for you to be held, to eat but it makes you sick to try. you know

[charseraph]

[apatheticsunday]

Coffee and Comfort at 2am

AKA "DILF!Danny owns a coffee shop in Gotham. It quickly becomes the batkids' favorite hangout." DPxDC prompt idea!

Steph finds the coffee shop first. (Finds is a strong word. She accidentally misses her grapple mark and swings into the wrong alley, nearly smacking into a half-rotten wooden door. She winces at the resounding bang that echoes in the alley.) She's about to grapple away, very glad that she bribed Babs to keep any mishaps between the two of them, when the door is yanked open.

Standing in the door way is a four-foot gremlin in an oversized hoodie, pig-tails, and pink spiked Converse.

"Well?" The kid grumbles. Steph opens her mouth to apologize for waking the little girl when the kid beats her to it with a, "You gonna order anything?"

So, it turns out Phantom's Keep has been open for a total number of 28 minutes before Spoiler almost breaks down the door. The owner Danny Fenton and his daughter Ellie moved from Illinois a little over a week ago and converted a foreclosed shop into a "late night" coffee shop.

It's not entirely in working order, but the shop plays soft rock and it smells like coffee grounds. The vibe is very... calming. There's something about the mismatched furniture and warm lamps that feels homey. Danny offers a smile at Spoiler's costume, complimenting it in a way that feels very earnest and dad-like, and gives her a free pre-packaged muffin. Tells her to be safe on her way out. Steph leaves with a warm coffee, muffin, and a messily hand-drawn map that Ellie gave her with a stern instruction to "bring more customers." (Endearingly, Ellie drew Phantom's Keep as a castle.)

True to her word, Steph came back with Cass and Tim. Who then came back with Bernard and Duke. Duke brought Damian, who brought Dick and Jason. They both like Danny a lot - he's soft on Ellie but has a sharp sense of humor. Ellie and Damian also get along surprisingly well; Ellie, despite being younger, has a special interest in swords. She's very passionate about the macharia and xiphos. ("Her great aunt is Greek," Danny says with a tight smile. "She's gotten super into ancient Greece because of it.")

Ellie is probably the batkid's favorite part of Phantom's Keep. She's a spitfire, has very loud opinions about their costumes and vigilantism, and is clearly a meta. Both Danny and Ellie are, they're sure, but Ellie tends to... float. Often. Although Danny will typically give her the Dad Glare and remind her with a curt "feet on floors indoors" or sometimes just "floor, Ellie!"

And well... The batkids can see when a good person is just trying to make a living. Danny is a good dad to a good kid. Usually when the second-hand TV plays re-runs of Grey Ghost and Ellie's head starts drooping, he'll disappear for a few moments to put her to bed in their apartment upstairs. Danny mentions off-handedly to Red Hood that he's going back to college during the day and the coffee shop's open from 8pm-8am so it doesn't leave him with a lot of free time. If the batkids quietly and unanimously decide to keep Phantom's Keep as their own little shop... It's not like Batman has any reason to investigate a small business owner who may or may not be a meta, right? He won't find out.

(....Bruce does, indeed, find out.)

[alyakthedorklord]

Damian, walking out the manor door in civvies with Purpose and a katana while his siblings watch in concern

Dick: uh, hey, baby bat, where ya off to?

Damian: I am attending an execution

Tim, looking up from his laptop for the first time in 6 hours: what

Steph: in civvies? I get not going as robin but at least wear your assassin gear

Tim: THATS WHAT WE’RE WORRIED ABOUT?

Steph: well yeah that stuffs meant to get blood on it

Damian: it is not the execution of anything that would bleed.

Dick: explain that

Damian, sighing with all the annoyance he can muster at his curious siblings: Do you recall my partner in the school project?

Duke: uh, you mean Danny? The teen dad transfer who you said set up a Prince and Princess Club with the kids in his apartment building, and hosts tea parties where he gives them political problems about unicorns and mermaids to discuss over scones?

Damian: yes. This Thursday the issue was a stuffed giraffe who brought tribute to the council, but the tribute snacks contained nuts. Danny tells me it was originally an attempt to make them refuse the snacks as a group, as the stuffed giraffe knowingly snubbed some of their members. But then it was pointed out that if the allergic children ate the snacks, there would be great medical risk, and the scenario escalated to an assassination attempt.

Dick: …so they’re executing the stuffed giraffe.

Damian: yes. It is good to see the young trained early. Now if you will excuse me, I promised to be there. It is my duty as one trained with the sword to ensure Lord Longneck is dispatched properly for his attempts on Princess Bridget of apartment 114 and Prince Hunter of the top floor’s lives. Good day.

Tim: what the fuck

Steph, cackling: the kids are alright

[papayafromtv]

conversations overheard through the batkid com lines pt 67 (masterpost here) this is the longest one ive ever done oh my god

Dick: he takes it like a champ, which is honestly- it's made my respect for him go up more than literally any of the badass Batman shit he's ever done.

Jason: oh, a hundred percent. like, especially considering how egotistical he used to be? Bruce has become completely numb to us being bitches about him.

Dick: i guess it's different because, like, i mean it's more ironic now, right? i mean we used to fucking hate him, and it came through in the way we mocked him. it was malicious.

Jason: *audible wince* yeah buddy we had issues,

Dick: *wheeze* we had- we had issues. but now it's more like... us talking about how messy of a family we are is more a way of acknowledging how far we've all come, you know? it's therapeutic. bonding.

Jason: *crooning* aw, how sweet. *laugh* which of your therapists came up with that shit?

Dick: *laugh* it's good for you, man! i'm telling you, the guy i have is good. and he knows our identities, so we don't have to hold back. you should try it.

Jason: yeah, no, i'm happy for you, but i got my therapy right here.

*slight pause*

Dick, dry: that's a gun.

Jason: *cackle* look, i ain't in denial, i know my issues. talking stuff out just isn't my deal. you know i operate different to you and Bruce.

Dick: *hum* you do you, i guess. he worked for Bruce though, as far as i'm aware B still sees him.

Jason: *abrupt snort* you two share a therapist? that's fuckin' adorable.

Dick, snickering: listen- listen, it was a whole thing! i told him if he was gonna try it out he had to do it properly; let go of his control issues and actually look for help, so i made him see my guy because then he's seeing somebody who already has a picture of who he is from another perspective--he couldn't manipulate the narrative.

Jason: smart, corner the fucker.

Dick: yeah, but again--took it like a champ.

Jason: was there a moment for you where you could tell that like--'oh he's actually fucking trying, he might not be as shit as we thought'.

Dick: *snort* the grand moment of realisation of 'ah shit, he actually is just a guy as well, isn't he?'

Jason: *slight wheeze* the moment- the moment of- *snort* 'fuck i've been bullying somebody in the same boat as me'.

Dick: GOD, *cackle* yes, oh dude you have no idea, there were so many moments,

Jason: it's- it's weird, right? to be like, maybe we don't have to hate each other as much as we do?

Dick: yeah, -but it's like, part of it right? to make the realisation that you can be a victim of circumstance while also being an asshole that contributes to the problem?

Jason: *click* oh yeah, completely. you gotta get to the point where you can accept that it can be true that you have a shit life largely due to the actions of somebody else, while it also being true that- that the person at fault, is only at fault because they themselves have been fucked over in life and they just haven't had the clarity or opportunity to fix themselves from it before.

Dick: *grunt* yeah, parents--or peers, i guess. peers can wrong you without being bad people. we're all just... shitty people, trying to figure out how not to be shitty to those further down the line. sometimes we manage it, sometimes we don't. doesn't make us evil, just makes us... works in progress.

Jason: *hums*

*a few beats of silence*

Dick: Jace if you don't fucking offer me some damn alcohol right now-,

Jason: *instant cackling* chill- chill i got a case in the fridge, you can go get it.

Dick: and if i open the window to go get it i'm not gonna get ass-fucked by your deranged loa version of home security?

Jason: what do i- do i look stupid? why would i have security on while hanging out on my own fucking fire escape?

*shifting, wood sliding*

Dick: well i dunno, you're weird sometimes,

Jason: fuck off. and grab the whole case will you? bring it out, i don't wanna go in any time soon.

*clinking*

Dick: sir yes sir. *slight grunt* so, *sigh* what was your moment?

Jason: what- my Bruce moment?

Dick: yeah. i mean- i assume Damian living with him had something to do with it, but what was the moment that made you realise he wasn't as bad as we made him out to be during the golden era?

Jason: *bottle uncapping* *clink* don't laugh.

Dick: *already amused* why would i laugh?

Jason: ...it was when he hit me in the face with the batarang.

*two seconds of silence*

Dick: *snort*

Jason: ok fuck you-

Dick: no- sorry, how the fuck-

Jason: it was complicated-

Dick: he slit your throat and you were like 'yeah that man's on a self improvement journey'.

Jason: *instant cackle* no- let me be clear, it wasn't the fact that he threw a batarang at my face, it was just the overall interaction in general.

Dick: jesus. how fucking good was this conversation that he literally almost killed you with his own hands and you still walked away like 'good chat dad, see you on thanksgiving'?

Jason: no the real question is- *wheeze* real question is how low was the fucking bar,

Dick: *loud laughter* *high-pitched, between weeping* what did he say-?

Jason: he apologised.

Dick: *long excited gasp* you're fucking kidding.

Jason: yeah- but like. in a weirdly mature way? that's what fucking caught me off guard.

Dick: i thought you hated it when he apologised for not killing the Joker?

Jason: that's what caught me off guard! because he didn't apologise for that, he apologised because- ok so basically,

Dick: *snort* oh here we go.

Jason: -shut the fuck up, we're at my place post-patrol and we're drinking alcohol, of course we're gonna psychoanalyze our interactions and history with Bruce- anyway, we’re on the roof, i’ve got a gun on Joker and i’m basically telling him that he either kills the Joker or i do, and if he doesn’t want Joker to die then he has to kill me,

Dick: this is the first time you’ve properly told me this story,

Jason: yeah- well obviously B has his whole no kill thing so he’s being a little bitch about it, that’s expected, and so i put the gun to Joker’s head and start countin’ down from three. and before i can actually do anythin’, he tears up and starts apologising.

Dick: god tier distraction technique.

Jason: -yeah, i- *wheeze*

Dick: *snickering* look i’m just saying-

Jason: no- yeah, fair enough. anyway i started yelling about like, how i didn’t give a fuck that he didn’t get to the warehouse in time back in Ethiopia, bla bla bla, yeah? and he stops me mid-sentence. and he goes ‘no Jason, i’m not sorry that i didn’t save you in time back then, and i’m not sorry that i didn’t kill the Joker, i’m not going to apologise for that and my opinions will not change.’

*silent pause*

Jason: …and i’m like. the caucacity of this bitch.

Dick: *wheezes* *slapping sounds, grating of metal*

Jason: don’t fuckin- break my outdoor chairs,

Dick: *still wheezing* the caucacity- no that’s insane! he actually said that?

Jason: word for word- *slightly offended* by the way? thanks for outing my fucking civilian name to the Joker, you fucking asshole.

Dick: *loses it again*

Jason: -guess the no-names-in-the-mask rule is only important when you want it to be, huh?

Dick: so what- *snort* what was he apologising for?

Jason: well that was what freaked me out. because suddenly Batman left the roof and in his place was this fuckin- well adjusted man, who was willing to make himself emotionally vulnerable in public. and he proceeds to tell me that he wasn’t sorry for the Joker shit, but he was sorry that he didn’t provide a safe enough environment at home, because maybe if he’d actually stepped up as a father figure then i wouldn’t have felt the need to go to Ethiopia the way i did in the first place.

*three seconds of silence*

Dick, awed: *stage whispering* he admitted it?!

Jason: OUT OF NOWHERE.

Dick: hoooly-

Jason: *indignant* YEAH. YEAH MAN. I’M FUCKIN’ STANDING THERE ON THE OTHER END OF THIS ROOF LIKE SINCE WHEN DO YOU HAVE THE ABILITY TO DO THAT.

Dick: *cackle* *John Mulaney impression* the Bruce admitted to his faults in an open and honest emotional conversation? i didn’t know he knew how to do that.

Jason: *instant wheeze* ex- *cough* -ACTLY! *cough* anyway, obviously my face is like- i look fucking baffled, because what? and i think he thought i didn’t understand what he meant? and so he said- and i’ll never fucking forget what he said, he said this word for word,

Dick: *drink sloshing* *prompting hum*

Jason: he goes ‘when i took you in, i promised to take up the responsibilities of being your guardian, and i remember the night that i told you that, you looked at me with nothing but distrust.’ and he tells me, ‘you didn’t believe that i’d be there for you, and you didn’t believe that you could rely on me; as a guardian, or a parent, or a father.’ and then he looked me in the eyes as he was actively tearing up, and he told me, ‘the biggest mistake i’ve ever made in my life was living up to those expectations of me, because you were right not to think i would do it, and the biggest thing that broke my heart about your death was the realisation that i never let you feel safe around me.’

Dick: *slow whistle* yeah, that would have gotten me. i’d have cried.

Jason: *stage whispering* right? completely fucking took the wind out of my rage-sails, i had no idea what to do. *louder* I WILL SAY- i will say, that it was at that point that the Joker started looking kind of uncomfortable, which was-

Dick: *wheeze*

Jason: which was- *also wheezing* the best thing ever. *high-pitched, snickering* like- fuck me, i didn't think it was possible for the Joker to feel awkward about anything, but man, that dipshit did not fuckin' wanna be there,

Dick: oh my god, this is incredible. that has to be like- Bruce Wayne, the only man in the universe with the ability to make the Joker uncomfortable with his feelings.

Jason: yeah, so i was like... reeling. because all of a sudden B was telling me everything i'd wanted to hear from him since he'd bloody adopted me, and on top of that he started telling me about how he 'knew that he couldn't fix the time he'd already lost, but he would always be available if i ever wanted to try and build anything new', and,

Dick: OH MY GOD HE TOLD ME THAT- HE TOLD ME THAT LIKE SIX MONTHS AFTER YOU DIED. HE- he called me at seven in the morning to tell me that he loved me, wished he'd been better at showing it back when it mattered, and was going to try and tell me it more in the future.

Jason, snorting: first thing in the morning is wild.

Dick: dude i was hung over. i threw up. on call. he thought he'd killed me.

Jason: *bursts out laughing* fuckin'- it almost killed me on that roof.

Dick: right- yeah, ok, i wanna get back to that. because how the fuck does B using this opportunity to update you on his journey through self-improvement and therapy somehow turn into him throwing a literal knife at your neck?

Jason: *dismissive* ahhh, well, bless his little heart, he's not gonna get everything right first try, is he?

Dick: *snickering* Jason,

Jason: ok, ok. so- ok so basically,

Dick: *wheeze*

Jason: *smacking noise* FUCK OFF. you have to understand that my main goal when i orchestrated that whole scenario was like... a complete unstable mixture of like five various points i wanted to make at the same time. like- i was losing it, to the point where Damian told me afterwards he'd been considering asking Ra's about pulling me in for another pit-dip because he thought something might be wrong with me.

Dick: *amused* you were- you were having a slight menty-b,

Jason: *wheeze* a slight menty-b, yeah. so- part of it was i wanted to see if Bruce would kill the Joker for me, part of it was just wanting to see if he even cared; part of it was to make sure Damian would be safe with him, and part of it... i guess...

*drink sloshing*

Jason: don't freak out, but i guess part of it was a subconscious attempt at just... getting something to kill me.

Dick: ...something?

Jason: yeah- like it wasn't a thought out attempt, i wasn't thinking of it as a suicide attempt; but i think i was specifically trying to make the whole situation as fucked as possible because i wanted something to just... put me down. whether that be the Joker, or me, or Bruce, or a bomb, y'know? like... my mind was such a mess in that moment that i was just too tired to think about making it off that roof alive.

Dick: *drink slosh* *calm hum*

*a beat of silence*

Jason: like- i'm fine now, but there have been hard moments, you know?

*another beat of silence*

Dick: ...you, fuckin'... you are one special little gem, you know that Jace?

Jason: *indignant snort* fuckin' what? *chuckle* what's that supposed to mean?*

Dick, amused: it means, dumbshit, that i know for a fucking fact you fought with every fucking fibre of your being to make it out of that warehouse, to make it out alive, because you did not want the Joker to kill you. i know that, you've told me about that,

Jason, already amused: yuh-huh,

Dick: -so as much as it sucks to hear that there have been points where my baby brother has wanted to off himself, there is a morbidly fascinated part of me that is listening to this, like, imagine having the audacity to fight that fucking hard to survive, so hard that god apparently fucking listened to you, brought you back, and you came back alive just like, 'mmm, this is more hassle than i thought actually, nevermind'.

Jason: *soft wheeze* hey- hey now-

Dick: -like i know i'm being insensitive but that is SO wild to me-,

Jason: *wheezes again* oh my god- see, this is so much funnier than therapy.

Dick: yeah, i'll agree to that, it's less sensitive when it's outside of a therapist's office.

Jason: *approving grunt* well, anyway, i did actually have a bomb on the roof, so that was my final back-up plan. if shit went down the drain, just blow everything up, y'know?

Dick: you took a bomb? like a grenade?

Jason: no like a proper one, remote detonated and stuck to the inside of the building. it would have taken out the whole thing, killed us all in one fell swoop. the only problem was, i didn't want B to know i had a bomb, so i couldn't have the detonator on me, right?

Dick, slightly confused: right...?

Jason: so- *slight laugh* so i got this guy, right? this guy named Micheal.

Dick: the fuck is Micheal.

Jason: Micheal is one of my workers, and he has no fucking friends whatsoever. runs accounts for me because he's such a nerd, and i think he's chill so i occasionally invite him out for drinks with me and my main guys, right?

Dick: *confused hum*

Jason: i am the only reason Micheal has a job or a social life, and i am the only person he speaks to outside of cashiers and women who hate him on onlyfans. Micheal therefore recognises that he owes me his life and adores me, to the point where he will do anything for me without question, and will shut up about anything he hears with a hundred percent success rate, no matter what.

Dick: *snort* ok?

Jason: my point is, i couldn't have the detonator on me for risk of B somehow seeing it and planning around it. so, i had Micheal on my private com line with the detonator, hidden a whiles away and waiting for me to give the command to blow us all up because he's the only one i trusted to keep his fucking mouth shut. are you with me?

Dick: you had some random fucking loser pervert-

Jason: I *clap* DID *clap* NOT *clap* THINK *clap* I *clap* WOULD *clap* MAKE *clap* IT *clap* OFF *clap* THAT *clap* ROOF *clap* ALIVE.

Dick: *audibly trying not to laugh* ri- right, ok, go- go on,

Jason: so this entire fucking conversation, my identity, my daddy issues, Batman crying; Micheal is hearing all of this shit, right? and he's waiting for me to give him a signal about this bomb because i'd told him that if a certain amount of time on that rooftop passed without anything happening, that he should just blow it up anyway. but now things have changed, because B is for some reason being reasonable which means now maybe i shouldn't kill us all in a murder suicide, right?

Dick: *incredulous cackle* right,

Jason: so i'm fuckin' crying, Batman's fuckn' crying, Joker's startin' ta avert his eyes like he did not think this was how this interaction was supposed to go,

Dick: *laugh*

Jason: -and all of a sudden Micheal starts sayin' some shit in my ear; except i can't fuckin' hear him properly because i wasn't expectin' us to be having any two-way conversations so i've got my com turned all the way down, so, suddenly remembering i should probably tell him not to blow us up, i reach my hand up to adjust my com and ask him what's up. yeah?

Dick: right,

Jason: but i'm also restraining Joker, so i have to use the hand holding the gun to do it. and the safety's still off, and i'm not wearing my helmet, and it's an awkward angle n shit, right?

Dick: *disappointed* oh my god,

Jason: and- *slight wheeze* B told me ages afterwards what happened from his perspective, which was that he saw his crying son in the middle of a slight menty-b lift a gun to the side of his head with no safety and start fiddling with his fingers--as if about to press the trigger and do a whole-ass suicide,

Dick: oh my GOD,

Jason: yeah- *amused* and i guess the tears were obstructing his vision, so he says that he panicked and tried to hit the gun out of my hand and fuckin' missed, right? but from my perspective, my dad just told me he was sorry for the first time in his life and then shot me in the neck as if he needed to destroy all evidence of the incident,

Dick: *wheeze*

Jason: so now my mind's in a fuckin' frenzy, i'm dying possibly, and i'm really pissed off because WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT?

Dick: *more wheezing, gasping for air* oh my god-,

Jason: so, deciding i need to fuckin' recoup and consider the events of the evening, i shoved the Joker at him, jumped off the edge of the building, and told Micheal to blow that shit to high heaven to distract him so i could get away.

Dick: and you just left?!?!

Jason: yeah man, went home and called Ra's--needed somebody to complain about my daddy issues too. it was fine though, he got me medical attention. and after that i guess B told you and Tim that i was alive, Damian started settling into Gotham a little more, and my mind cleared up enough that i realised i should probably like... fucking calm down or something, because clearly my opinion of Bruce is slightly skewed and i needed to retcon that shit.

Dick, snickering: retcon--wait, what happened with the Joker, i thought you killed him on the roof?

Jason: *hum* mmmnope, i ain't kill him. i think B put him back in Arkham like usual after that night. *drink sloshing*

Dick: i swear i thought he died that night- actually, where the fuck is he then?! hold on, hold on how am i just noticing this, where the fuck has the Joker been for the past three years if you didn't kill him? i just assumed you'd got him?!

Jason, casual: no i didn't get him. he is dead though. died two weeks after.

Dick: you got him two weeks after?

Jason: nah, i didn't get him.

Dick: the fuck got him?

Jason: Damian did, dude.

*a beat*

Dick, supremely indignant: sorry?

Jason: yeah- Bruce doesn't know it was Day though, the kid made it look like a heart attack or something, i think.

Dick: *awed* Damian got him? two weeks after the rooftop incident?

Jason: *casual* yeah--cause he came to visit me to check that i hadn't like, completely gone insane, and obviously he was like 'the fuck happened to your neck?' so i had to take him a whiles out of Gotham and tell him what happened with Bruce-,

Dick: why'd you take him out of Gotham for that?

Jason: because if he was in the vicinity of B at that moment he would have shot him in the face.

Dick: ...ok yeah fair enough. without the emotional context it is kind of wild.

Jason: exactly; but anyway- after he calmed down and i took him back to my apartment he told me that 'this clown shit was way more hassle than it fucking should be' and then he disappeared for like, eight hours. he came back through my window at like six am and just told me 'there, now you can all shut up about it', and i just... made the executive decision not to ask questions. i was goin through all this new mental health journey shit, y'know? other things to worry about.

Dick: fucking hell,

Jason: yeah. *drink sloshing* 'hacked into the Arkham records the next morning and he'd been quietly confirmed as dead and cremated, so that was that i guess.

*a few beats* *drink sloshing*

Dick: ...i guess i always thought that... that like... his death would be more dramatic, you know? that it would be a victory. did you not want something more satisfying?

Jason: *non-committal hum* i mean... maybe a little bit at first? but honestly the perspective i landed on was that... he sucked. like- his one thing was being a clown, right? it was his one passion; all he wanted was to be well known, and to be funny. so there's a part of me that thinks the best possible end for that guy is for him to die quietly, meaninglessly, in a completely boring, background, unnoticeable way, to the point where nobody even realises he's dead. like. do you know how fucking offended he'd be if he knew nobody knew--or cared--that he was dead? it makes me very happy to think about.

*stretch of silence*

Dick: that's such a god-tier take, actually. i take it all back.

Jason: right?

Dick: Damian's a fucking genius.

Jason: mmhmm. like father like son, am i right?

Dick: *chuckle* yea- wait, huh?

Jason: oh- *snort* no, i'm not complimenting B, i mean me.

Dick: oh, *chuckle* yeah,

*a beat*

Dick: wait, what?

Jason: what?

Dick: what do you mean 'like father like son'?

Jason: ...d'i not tell you about that?

Dick: eh-?

Jason flatly: just drink your beer.

[dairrhea]

Comic

[eyegengrauu]

been thinking about one of the posts i reblogged earlier about how tenna Physically doesn't really fit into tv world. he doesnt fit very well in tv world where most Communal spaces are built to accommodate people other than him, like the green room. and he Definitely doesn't fit into castle town, where he is physically shrinking in on himself Both from the stress im sure but also because he just .... doesn't really fit.

what little we see of his personal spaces i think also is really telling. his castle town room is small. it looks like the green room but its barely anywhere close to how big tv world was, or how big the studio was. We don't even really see any of tenna's personal spaces in tv world, at least in terms of a hypothetical office or bedroom or changing room (if he even has one).

... the closest we come is that hallway full of TVs where you bypass the parental locks and then well... The cold place. Nothing in TV world seems to particularly be his size in terms of actual, liveable, communal space: its all sized for his crew and not for him. and the places that are are.... these wide, empty spaces. He fits well enough through the corridors and hallways, but we see him shrink himself in the green room. he doesn't fit there. and i do think tenna had a hand in building the studio but i don't actually think he thought of himself First when going into it. he considers himself an afterthought.

i think weve only really seen the tip of the iceberg in terms of how badly tenna is doing post chapter 3. theres smaller hints. hes putting up his facade as he always is. everything has crashed around him in probably the most traumatic way it could have and he doesn't know what to do with himself. and now hes somewhere deeply unfamiliar, that he Did not have a hand in creating, and he doesn't physically fit here. he Can't physically fit here. hes too big.

nobody is gonna be shocked when i bring this up bc i talk about it a lot + basically all of my tenna thoughts circle back to this bc i genuinely think it is like. an extremely important aspect of understanding him. But i think this is also like. a very big part of him being a disabled character. Tenna experiences size discrimination. when hes the most like himself, at his default big size, he is rarely accommodated for.

And even in terms of like, Perception of him (both in terms of like. in-universe what i think other darkners may think as well as some fan perception stuff) i think people end up thinking hes going to be violent or imposing or otherwise aggressive just because he's physically large. but hes... just not. hes silly and whimsical and sweet and a big pushover. despite his size, he's quite fragile.

his default size is big. like. i think thats the size he just kind of.... is. he can shrink yes, i think both controllably to an extent and uncontrollably in conjunction with his mental state. but hes big like that most of the time, at the times where hes most himself. and nowhere accommodates for him. hes a big, clunky CRT taking up room in a living room. a big, clunky CRT brought into a storage closet. and its making him miserable. <- says this with a big fucking grin on my face

[eyegengrauu]

@rockinmusicquarterly

YUPPPPPPPP THIS EXACTLY!

[theladysunami]

AU where Shen Yuan transmigrates as a member of Cang Qiong mountain’s “Beast Peak” equivalent, only they exclusively raise spirit beasts, not anything “fun.”

Shen Yuan quickly proceeds to give his shizun and all his shixiongjie gray hairs because he won’t stop bringing back monsters!

It’s always, “Shidi, we don’t raise demonic beasts,” this and “Shidi, we raise dogs, eagles and horses… not giant turtles!” that.

So what if his spirit dog is clearly part demon wolf and can breathe fire? She is still a dog, isn’t she?! He can totally train her!

(Binghe has feelings about his shidi constantly cuddling his part demonic spirit dog. According to Meng Mo, he’s probably part demon too! Cuddle him instead! 🥺)

———

My ideas for some of the specific creatures Shen Yuan somehow gets to keep:

———

He rescued the mixed spirit dog/demon wolf from a group of demonic cultivators that managed to kidnap several spirit dogs.

They were working on crossbreeding the dogs with various demon hounds, hoping to get mutts with the loyalty, intelligence and trainability of spirit dogs, but also the power and viciousness of demonic beasts.

Who wouldn’t want a flaming abyss hound or venomous serpent wolf that was loyal enough not to try murdering its master?

Most of the pups were too much like their wild brethren and had to be released into the boarderlands or put down, but Shen Yuan did manage to smuggle one sweet little runt of a puppy back to the sect without the other shixiongjie on the night hunt noticing.

Her spirit dog mother had been actually been hiding the puppy, not cowering from it, so clearly that particular little one took more after her non-demon side. Don’t worry, mother dog, Shen Yuan will raise her well!

———

Rather than a typical spirit eagle, Shen Yuan somehow manages to get ahold of literal Zhenniao, or poison bird, instead.

Not to worry though! The bird won’t be killing everyone in the sect with a brush of her feathers!

Shen Yuan happens to remember how in PIDW, Bing-ge discovered the birds actually only replicate and concentrate the poisons and venoms they eat, rather than producing a unique poison of their own.

As long as he keeps feeding the Zhenniao poisonous plants and creatures that are only dangerous to the demon race (and keeps her away from his precious pup, until he can find and attach that anti venom medallion from chapter 573 to her collar) she’ll be both perfectly healthy and perfectly harmless!

She’s also not a demonic beast, so Shizun’s “No more demonic beasts on my peak!” rule obviously doesn’t count!

Despite his shizun and shixiongjie’s worries, the Zhenniao actually proves super useful during the whole demon invasion incident.

If Elder Sky Hammer can run around with Without-a-Cure coated on his armor, why can’t Binghe wear the poison feather Shen Yuan spontaneously gifted him as well? Get poisoned asshole! (As a sealed half heavenly demon specifically, Binghe is of course immune to the poison).

———

For his mount, I think it would be amusing if Shen Yuan somehow managed to befriend some ancient forest spirit, and unknowingly brought home one of its offspring.

He comes back to the sect with a glowing white stag the size of a moose, whose antlers are sprouting leaves, while other plants spring up and bloom in its wake, and is rather puzzled by the fact everyone seems positively petrified of the thing.

Sure he doesn’t recognize this specific creature from PIDW (the realm merger did a number on many types of local fauna) but it’s clearly entirely spiritual and not even a little bit poisonous! It’s surely just a pre- realm merge version of the iron bark autumn stag, which really wasn’t that big of a threat.

The general reverence and the shrines he notices popping up later are a bit odd, but it is obviously intelligent, and its presence does seem to significantly perk up all the flora around the sect, so maybe the little shidimei have confused it for a land god or something.

Extra points if there is some association with empresses or future nobility related to the stag, or perhaps a demon prophecy about it, so Shen Yuan has accidentally solidified his future position as demon empress. 😂

[salvaation]

Eridians are apex predators. Humans, despite considering ourselves the top of the food chain, actually fall into the same trophic level as pigs and anchovies—tertiary omnivores.

But humans are pursuit predators. And Eridians seem more likely to be ambush predators.

What I'm saying is on that years-long trip to Erid there were absolutely several instances of Rocky & Grace doing something that was absolutely terrifying to the other one and then having to be like "oh yeah no that's normal. Sorry."

[buff-shizun]

Swap au where Shen Yuan wakes up as recent runaway Shen Jiu just a few days before the disciple selection- according to his brand new life companion and master, System.

Shen Yuan has his freak out, System forces him to comply with plot points, and eventually he ends up at the mountain, digging holes.

He's nervous. He's terrified. He's also super, super excited to meet his favorite protagonist, Qing Jing Peak's Master, Luo Binghe; and when Luo Binghe calls on him, and they meet eyes, Shen Yuan realizes one very important thing.

The book did *not* do his protagonist justice. Not one bit. His new shizun is *so fucking cool.*

He's taken to the peak. The tea ceremony happens, and the entire time, Shen Yuan does his best to hide the stars that must be in his eyes. His favorite protagonist! Is now his Shizun!!

But Binghe, from the moment the tea ceremony started, has been nothing but cold to him. Not in a "we're strangers" way, but in a way that felt almost...hostile.

Shen Yuan's so nervous that sweat runs down his back, but the entire acceptance ceremony goes off without a hitch, so...maybe he imagined it?

It was not imagined. A few days later, Shen Yuan finds himself in the exact same position as Cannon Luo Binghe: in a woodshed, hated by everyone.

He has no idea what he did wrong. Doesn't understand why this is happening. Did he offend the protagonist in some way? Was the tea *that* bad??

In the end, with System wholey unhelpful, Shen Yuan has nothing to go on but a tentative theory that, well, plot is going to plot, and no matter what he does, it won't change a thing for Shen Jiu's Fate.

Shen Yuan goes into a bit of a depression after that. Just a bit. But it's fine! So what if he doesn't show up for class anymore? So what if he doesn't even try to sneak food? The woodshed is nice. It's dark, it's private (for the most part), and no one bothers him (unless it's to punish him). All he has to do is be seen keeping up with chores every so often, let the bullies beat him up, and then he can blissfully hide away in his 5☆ accommodations without issue!

Except someone does notice. Eventually. It takes a little while since he often takes missions off peak, but one day on his way back to the bamboo house, Binghe sees his newest Disciple struggling to lift an axe.

Something about the image strikes him as odd, but he dismisses it quickly and goes about his day, thinking that a ten year old fresh off the streets would, of course, be struggling to lift something so heavy.

He receives notice later that that same Disciple hasn't been showing up to class. That odd strike of wrongness hits him again, but he smothers it under minor offense and schedules to have a *talk* with his newest disciple before the end of the week.

Something catches his attention only a day later. A conversation between a small group of disciples traveling between classes. At first he isn't sure what it was, but then he hears it.

His newest disciple is being...starved. Abused. Forced to perform manual labor until collapse, then framed and beaten as punishment for minor infractions that he never even did.

Binghe is horrified. He memorizes these disciples' faces and then rushes to the dorms as quickly as he can without appearing to be running, the entire time thinking back to the last time he saw his disciple and cursing himself to not noticing the obvious. What kind of Shizun was he? Was he so far removed from his past that he couldn't recognize all the signs?!

Once he reaches the dorms, he grabs a disciple and orders them to bring out their newest shidi (What was his name? Shen-? Shen *what?*).

He expects easy obedience. Instead, he's met with hesitance. Shifty eyes. He makes his order again, perhaps a bit too harshly, and is given a nervous statement, "Shidi isn't here."

But that was ridiculous. This disciple hadn't even checked. How would they know he wasn't there?

A thought strikes him, and he enters the dorm himself, dragging the disciple behind him. He glances around, and sure enough, his newest little disciple isn't here, but this doesn't surprise him now. No, it's only validating the theory forming in his head.

"Which bed belongs to your Shidi?"

The boys in the room all go silent. The one under his hand looks as if Binghe had come to personally cut his head off.

"...none of them, shizun."

Theory confirmed.

"Then," He just barely keeps from hissing. "Where. Has your *ten year old shidi*. Been *sleeping.*"

The woodshed.

*The Woodshed.*

The disciple under his hand is near tears. "Please forgive us, Shizun! We thought he'd offended you in some way, so we were trying to drive him out. But he just wouldn't go!"

Offended me? He wonders. As he rushes off again, those two words keep appearing. He knows he'd been a bit quiet and absent with his newest disciple, but for his other disciples to see that and decide to do something like *this?*

The horror begins to hit him as the woodshed appears in the distance. His peak was sheltered. Nearly all of the children here came from decent backgrounds. They did not know what life on the streets is like; the feeling of slowly withering away, of bruises that never stopped aching, and injuries that never healed quite right. Sheltered. His peak was sheltered.

He'd never realized that was a problem 'til now.

Disciple Shen is not in the woodshed, but it's obvious he'd been sleeping there. Luo Binghe forces himself to take a good look, then turns on a heel and starts searching the surrounding forest.

He finds him eventually at a creek's edge, two full buckets held in hands gaunt and boney. The poor boy is struggling to lift them, arms shaking, breath unsteady. His little face is pale and hollow. His eyes...Luo Binghe remembered them to be shy but bright, full of awe and admiration and green like the bamboo around them.

They're dark now. Grey and starless.

Qing Jing Peak had done that to him.

*Luo Binghe* had done that to him.

The Peak Lord feels shame well up inside, but he pushes it aside and calls out.

Disciple Shen responds instantly. Freezing. Those eyes come up and...he's glad to see that empty stare go, but the caution and anxiety spear through his heart. Binghe had never wanted a child under his care to ever fear him. It seemed, through his own foolishness, he'd achieved just that.

It will not stay that way. He vows it.

[buff-shizun]

Shen Yuan- Shen Jiu now- goes to bed that night stuffed full of delicious food, wrapped in several layers of bandages, and...comfortable. His new room is bare and only a bit bigger than his previous accommodations, but it's sealed from the elements. Bugs aren't constantly trying to crawl under his blankets. It smells *clean.*

Most importantly, it's not the woodshed.

If Xiao Shen had been thrown for a loop before, he's certainly in some kind of spiral now. None of this makes any sense to him.

In the book, Luo Binghe hadn't spared Shen Jiu much thought after taking him in. He'd seen it as a good deed done and then gone off to continue his adventures outside the peak. When he'd come back, however, he'd received reports of misbehavior in and out of class, and so had confronted Shen Jiu.

That confrontation was only the start of what would eventually become a violent falling out between master and disciple, but right now that wasn't what was important. What was important was figuring out how Xiao Shen managed to wriggle his way into his Shizun's side room, because this certainly isn't cannon!!

(Not that he's, like, complaining or anything. I mean, he's spending the night in Luo Binghe's home! How cool is that?! Granted, it's just for the night...but still! Cool!!!)

Xiao Shen doesn't come up with any satisfying answers before falling asleep.

(He dreads walking up in the morning.)

--

Luo Binghe keeps Shen Jiu close to his side the next morning. He tries to get him to talk about his experiences on the peak so far (so he knows who to punish), but Shen Jiu is just too closed off. He watches Binghe like he expects to be kicked, and when his shaking hands accidentally drop food on the table...ah, Binghe really doesn't care for children to fear him like this.

He had to keep Mu-Shidi's advice in mind. No sudden movements. No loud noises. Let Xiao Shen come to Binghe, and let him know he can do so at any time.

But Xiao Shen...despite his emaciated appearance, Luo Binghe wanted very badly to call him cute. Like an abandoned kitten in desperate need of kind touches and warm attention. He just had to keep reminding himself that this kitten might flee at any time if he wasnt careful. After all, if he left, how would Binghe make up for the terrible treatment Xiao Shen had received?

So, he has Xiao Shen walk with him. All day. Everywhere. To the classrooms, to the dining hall, and to any other little thing he could think of that would allow others to see them together. It was the best way he could think of to show that further abhorrent behavior would not be continued, and if anyone tried in the brief moments he wasn't looking...well. It would be a great moment to set an example, wouldn't it?

Time passes like this. Days. Weeks. Before he knows it, months have passed. He and Xiao Shen have had some misunderstandings over the course of those months, but over time those wrinkles became smooth, and their life together in the bamboo house started to feel...like a home. Like a safe haven for both of them, away from the stressers of peak life.

It was then that Binghe decided to make Xiao Shen his very first personal disciple, and Shen Yuan couldn't figure out for the life of him why any of this was happening anymore.

[lodgernotlodger]

I feel like of all Shen Yuan’s milfbeam victims, Shen Jiu would be the most miserable about it. De-aging arc where he accidentally calls the little dweeb god knows how many years younger than himself “mommy” and later crawls into a dark room to qi deviate about it in sheer rage.

Nothing has actually happened between the two but yqy still sets down an electrified cuck chair for himself.