#he's not like a normal kid and not a just trauma kid too

[aikoiya]

Exactly! My preferred avenue!

Even better if you treat Maddie & Jack as individuals with their own personal experiences, traumas, & biases regarding ghosts & their reasoning behind their views.

For me, I tend to hc Jack as being the one who would be quickest to change his beliefs & that Maddie would take longer.

Yes, Jack's egotistical, but I see him as being he's egotistical in a very similar way to how Papyrus from Undertale is also egotistical. In that, he holds himself in high regard & sees himself as great, but he also sees those he loves & cares for in the same way.

Meanwhile, I see Maddie as much more stubborn & biased in her beliefs, but this is partially due to the Flynn Walker thing.

Flynn Walker being a reimagining of Flynn Fenton from the Butch Hartman pictures where Jack & Maddie had another son named Flynn, who was kidnapped by ghosts as a kid. In this re-imagining, Flynn is instead Jack & Maddie's nephew & son of Alicia Walker & her now ex-husband. They'd been visiting the Fentons at the time & Jack was supposed to be watching the kids while Maddie, Alicia, & her husband were out getting something.

But, when Jack wasn't paying attention, Flynn was stolen away by ghosts who took him into the Ghost Zone through the still unfinished portal.

Naturally, Alicia blamed Jack, which is why she hates him in the show. This was also the event that would put strain on Alicia & her husband's relationship until they divorced.

I tend to hc that this plus other traumatizing experiences as a child would cause Maddie to have a bigger grudge against ghosts than Jack. In other words, I see her as a tragic bigot. A bigot as a result of past trauma regarding the subject in question.

I think that she'd initially be very resistant & stubborn about this, but if given imperical proof that Danny Phantom was Danny Fenton, that they were not separate entities, that he wasn't possessed... then she would reluctantly believe it, but it would also cause her world to sort of go topsy-tervy inside her own head until she could rationalize her own mental dissonance.

In my mind, one way to go about such would be for her to use the Fenton Ghost Catcher on him, then immediately uses the Thermos on Phantom.

Now, obviously, Fenton would want Phantom back, but Maddie would essentially say that it was for his own good before hiding the Thermos away.

... But I honestly don't think that this is something sustainable. Because, as we see in the show, they aren't just separated physically. It also affects both halves' personalities.

Also, keep in mind that we don't ever see them at 2 separate individuals for longer than that one episode.

So, it's entirely possible that their health might begin to deteriorate the longer they are 2. And, eventually, both may even die completely without the other.

Think the end of Steven Universe where his Gem is removed from him.

Something like that, but slower.

And, because of this, I also think that Fenton would likely be missing a bunch of biologically necessary components or that they would be unstable now due to how very integrated ectoplasm was into his DNA. Remember, "hiw molecules got all rearranged."

So, I imagine that everything else in him all the way down to his molecular makeup was likely altered, too.

And, it would likely get to the point where Maddie & Jack had to examine him to understand just... why? Possibly even thinking that maybe there was still ectoplasm left that, without Phantom there to control it, was poisoning their boy.

But they would find that he was back down to normal levels of ectocontamination for an Amity Parker which shouldn't have any affect on him at all.

So why was he deteriorating?

And the pressure & worry & fear for his life would begin to mount until Jazz & Danny's friends put on a heist to free Phantom.

Like, maybe they get one of Danny's ghost allies to distract the Fentons by making them think that they were going to hurt Danny & while they were distracted with protecting their son, the Team would actually save him.

Only to find that Phantom... wasn't doing okay...

Like... imagine Dani & the other clones. He's destabilizing, but... like... it's more like he's fading & evaporating & falling apart at once... Like he's losing cohesion...

Almost seeming to dissolve into mist before reconstituting himself. They can barely touch him & he's so very quiet. He looks like a gaunt Victorian child stricken with the plague. Not to mention his hollow cheeks making him look like he hasn't eaten in years & the dark circles under his exhausted eyes.

So, Sam, in a fit of brilliance, gets the Fenton Fishing Pole & ties the line around Phantom's waist to pull him towards Fenton.

But as they get close, Jack & Maddie return to see... They've never really seen anything like this before.

There are angry questions & fearful attempts to protect, but then Danny... he whispers, "Mom..." & then Phantom looks up, his eyes beginning to lose their glow, fading like to reveal a hauntingly familiar, but now clouded over, empty & faded blue. And he finishes, "...I'm scared..." The echo in his voice, now gone, leaving him to sound exactly like their son. And at that moment, the Danny in the bed let out one final sigh & goes completely still...

And, that was when the ghostly glow that Phantom normally had also began to blink out of existence to show raven hair & a now horrifyingly familiar white hazmat suit with black accents, the left arm fried to a crisp. The... phantom? Lifts the arm tiredly to look at his hand in confusion. Revealing a burning circle in the center of his palm with the word 'ON' underneath it as though seared into his flesh. As though only mildly surprised, he gives a quiet, breathy, "Oh..." before starting to fall forward slowly as his form faded away like a puff of smoke dissipating in the wind to leave a glowing orb to tink against the ground with a sound not unlike that of a glass wind chime.

It's glow seemed to flicker & fade.

Shaking with wide-eyes, they all turn to look at the Danny in the bed, Maddie surging forward to try & shake him awake, before reaching up shakily to feel for a pulse...

...

..

.

... "Nothing..." She whispered in shock & horror, quiet tears coming to her stricken eyes.

That was when Jack gently, but insistently pushed Maddie out of the way & began to perform CPR on his son. "Come on..." He pushed down on his chest, eyes shiny with tears.

The kids were... they were panicking! Sam was hyperventilating as she clutched the orb in her hands, holding it to her chest protectively as she mumbled, desperately that it was still flickering so he had to still be there while Tucker was frantically searching his PDA on how to restart a person's heart without a defibrillator & Jazz seemed to be going over ways to get the "his Core" back inside him at a frenzied pace, her eyes darting around wildly as though literally seeing the options in front of her before dismissing one after the other.

The world around her began to darken & close in around Maddie as her reality narrowed down to this singular point in time.

What did they do? What did they DO!?

She trembled, frozen as she too began to hyperventilate.

Jack's voice was getting frantic. "Come one! You're a Fenton, Dann-o! You're... You're a hero! You can do anything!"

Tucker began chattering about how if they could restart his heart within the next 10 minutes, they might be able to push Danny & his Core through the Merge side of the Ghost Catcher to put them back together!

That was when Jack stood up straight, looked at Maddie, & realizing what was happening, something shifted in him as he grabbed her upper arms & got up close to look her dead in the eye. "Mads, look at me. Dann-o needs us. I'm gonna go juryrig a pair of d-fibs, but I need you to keep doing CPR or we might lose him for good." He was strangely calm & gentle, but firm & insistent.

At his words, Maddie's eyes seemed to focus again, shifting to look at him & take in his words before, with a shaky breath, she nodded, brows furrowed as those steal nerves of hers snapped back into place.

With that, Jack gave a slightly cracked thousand watt smile before telling the kids to get a few things as he rand to get his tools.

In the end, they manage to get Danny's heart started & his lungs pumping again, but it was weak & halting.

And, almost in response to his renewed life, the orb's glow became stronger, but was still weak & flickered like a candle close to going out.

The kids began to urge them to have put Danny & the "Core" through the Ghost Catcher, but she was still resistant. So, Sam snapped, telling the Fenton woman to look for herself as she marched up to Danny with the orb & held it close to him.

Maddie & Jack jerked forward to try & stop her, but Jazz yelled at them to look at Danny.

... And they did... & he suddenly... looked so much healthier & the orb was glowing brighter & more steady in it's rhythm. More like, "A heartbeat?" Maddie asked in slight awe at how it seemed to pulse in perfect sync with the beeping of Danny's heart on the monitor.

"They're 2 pieces of the same whole. They can't survive without the other."

So, Jack picked his son up & yelled to get to the Ghost Catcher as he booked it. They all rushed down, Maddie looking to Jazz & asking if she was sure that this would work, who responded with, "what else can we do?"

Anyway, they turn on the Ghost Catcher & Sam places the orb in the fold of Danny's arms. Then, with a hesitant look at his wife who just wanted her baby back, Jack pushed his son through the Merge side where Danny was caught by Maddie.

The orb gone & Danny with a much healthier color to him & his breathing now deeper, though still unconscious & very weak & sickly looking.

...

Sorry, when I see a really good idea, sometimes I just can't stop myself.

But yeah, I definitely think there'd be a degree of "you're the exception because you're half human & not dead" to Maddie's behavior afterwards if not both.

Though, I also think that once he knew that Danny was alright, Jack would go back to his old self & would very excitedly begin to brainstorm inventions to help his son to fight & catch ghost better.

Though, I also think that it'd take a lot of adjusting as I see Jack tending to start talking about experimenting on ghosts only to then add Danny & go, "Oooh... sorry Dann-o..."

i get why so many fics have either good reveal or bad reveal for the fenton parents, but consider: the infinite expanse of "its complicated"

they see danny as an exception (because he isnt really a ghost!)

they believe him but disregard what that means for him, supportive in theory but not in practice (sure he is a half-ghost, but why does he have to [insert ghostly thing here]?)

they dont believe that he is a ghost but do believe that something happened and want to help, however the way they try to help is questionable. (if danny was suffering from delusions [he isnt], they would be playing into them. they [think] they know it isnt real, but believe that indulging him is better than any other option)

they believe him and support him, but that doesnt change that they are bad parents regardless and therefore neglect their children. if asked they have completly changed their view on ghosts, but now they have so much more to study and are around even less as a result. maybe they only interact with their children for research purposes.

or they dont belive or support him, but do their best to be attentive and loving parents. maybe they have convinced themselves of a different explanation (the fanon liminal lore perhaps). while they protect and love danny, they disregard what he says and undermine his experiences.

thats just some situations i could think of right now.

[t3a-tan]

How would Oliver handle a human child that didn't have bad intentions but was not gentle enough? Let's say the kid just doesn't really understand the terms "gentle" and "fragile" well enough to know how to handle Oliver and somehow he ended up being held by them? He is so good with kids that I wanna see how he handles that

I had a lot of fun with this! Enjoy ^^

Word Count: 4071

---

Oliver couldn't stand seeing upset children. Not because they annoyed him, but because sometimes you could tell just by looking at these children that they were being neglected in some way. Part of him was sympathetic— he had seen so many human couples in his travels and research, and it was often the case that the neglect was unintentional.

But still. Oliver couldn't help but intervene in some cases. Below a certain age it was too dangerous to approach a child— infants and young toddlers tend to put things to their lips, because that's how they explore new things; ie. Oliver.

Past that it was still risky, but he could handle the bruises. Children could be a lot more delicate than most think— once they are capable of reasoning and can communicate, it's simply a matter of finding how best to deal with that particular child in order to get what they need; whether that's food, attention, or entertainment.

Today, whilst checking the houses to update any files he had, he noticed a young child— perhaps only 3 or 4— who had been left all alone. No car in the driveway, no one else in the house. Their face was a bit red and eyes a bit watery, as if they had only stopped crying maybe ten or so minutes before he arrived, but they were still hiccuping and gasping every now and then, in distress.

After checking over his file and taking a look at the calendar in the kitchen, it became clear what had happened. Both parents had left to work and forgot to drop their toddler off at nursery— perhaps just because they were tired, or maybe because both thought the other would do it.

The toddler was half dressed too, so maybe they were in a rush; one parent could have gotten the toddler half dressed and then headed off and told the other to deal with it, only for a miscommunication to happen and…the poor babe be left alone.

With that investigation done, Oliver could not just stand by in the walls and watch. He could not rely on one of the parents realising what had happened, and the longer this went on the more likely it would result in trauma for the child. It may already be the case— though he hoped not.

Three or four…that was a pesky age. Some children that age could reason fairly well— some could not.

Oh well… I will just have to try my best.

He could see a few notes on the counter or up on the fridge mentioning a name that was likely the toddler's; Ava. With that in mind, he made his way to the living room, which is where she was currently sitting and staring at the door. He took off his glasses and left them in the walls beforehand, not wanting them to get broken.

Starting high was safer. From there he could gauge her reaction without risking a sudden grab or curious fingers.

“Ava?” He spoke out from on top of a toy box— the top of which was just slightly hard to reach. He stood still, watching as her head swivelled around to look at him, though she didn't move towards him at all, looking at him with a very neutral expression despite the sniffling. Oliver smiled a little, crouching down despite the fact that really he was the shorter one in this situation. It was instinct.

“Hello there…mummy and daddy went to work, didn't they?” He asked. That got a response immediately and she nodded quickly, inhaling some snot from all the crying as she began to speak, on the verge of crying again as if Oliver had just reminded her what she was upset about in the first place.

Most of it was incoherent— but it wasn't babbling, so that meant she was at a normal rate of speech. From what he could make of it, she was mostly repeating ‘mummy’ and ‘daddy’, mentioning a car, using the word ‘gone’, and it was clear that she was telling him exactly what he asked; her mum and dad had gone to work and she got left behind in the rush of things.

Oliver gestured calmly with his hands, showing his palms as he took on a reassuring demeanour.

“Shhh…shhh…it's alright. Mummy and daddy are going to come back.” He assured, reminding himself that children that age are more likely to understand positive language rather than if he said that her parents are not gone. “We're just doing nursery at home today, okay? Does that sound fun?”

She shook her head and wiped at her face, already starting to get upset again, looking around as if her mum and dad might just be behind her.

“N…no…” She hiccuped, voice trembling. “Mummy and…d-daddy…nn— need to…take me…”

Oliver's expression softened, his chest feeling tight at the sight. He tilted his head ever so slightly, debating whether or not he could safely be held by this child or not.

“Ava? Ava, look at me. How old are you, do you know that?” He asked, leaning down a bit. Luckily she did look up at him again, peeking through her fingers and wiping at her snotty red nose with her little hands. She sniffled again, eyes watery, but processing Oliver's question and answering in turn.

“F…four…” She murmured, voice still wobbly through her slightly uneven breathing. It was on the older end of the range Oliver had guessed, which was good, but it was still ultimately a risk.

Oh sod it. If I don't do something now she will get even more agitated and upset. Talking won't hold her attention enough.

He smiled down at her.

“Wow… you're such a big girl! And you know your own age too— very clever.” He gave her a moment to process that before continuing with a question, trying to lead gently into things to avoid making her scared of him. “Did they teach you that in nursery, Ava?”

She nodded slowly, looking up at him with rounded eyes, her lips a little purple from all the crying earlier. Thankfully, despite how she was anxiously fidgeting; rocking back and forth or clenching her shirt in a fist every now and then; it wasn't too difficult to draw her attention away from her missing parents.

“I can…I can…count…all way…to ten!” She responded slowly, wiping her watery eyes again and scooting a bit closer to the toy box Oliver was perched on.

“Can you? Oh, I would just love to hear that. Can you count to ten for me?” He requested. The more at ease she was, the less likely she was to squeeze him to death once he was in her hands. Not to mention the more comfortable she would be with him.

Ava nodded and began to count, looking up and to the side as she thought about it, slowly getting through the numbers, although she repeated some due to her frazzled state. Her voice was still shaking as she took in shuddering breaths every so often, but it wasn't as close to hyperventilating as before.

Oliver clapped his hands together, beaming.

“Bravo, bravo..! Hmm… I'm sure you also have lots of toys at nursery. Is that right?” He asked, getting a nod in return. If he could keep the child entertained until her parents got back, then hopefully this incident wouldn't repeat itself. “And you have lots of toys in this box too, don't you?

She nodded again, bright blue eyes staring up at him with much less wariness than before. She even scooted a big closer, wobbling to her feet and gripping onto the lid of the toy box as she stared at Oliver with some curiosity now.

That's good. Not for my ribs, but good for my mission.

As she leaned on the box it tipped towards her slightly and Oliver just managed to keep his balance. He quickly regained his composure, and walked slowly towards the right until he could simply hop off of the toy box and onto the TV stand right beside it. It was a bit lower down, certainly within reach, but he was pleased to see Ava was only watching him instead of grabbing him immediately.

“Can you show me your favourite toys?” He asked, gesturing encouragingly towards the toy box and sitting down on the edge of the stand, letting his legs dangle off of the edge as he watched, expression bright and warm.

Latching onto the distraction immediately without even understanding that Oliver was trying to distract her, Ava pried open the fabric lid and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tried to pull out any of her toys. After a few attempts she let out an agitated whine, growing irritated. Oliver was about to intervene when she accidentally knocked the entire box over as she pulled her arms back out.

She stumbled back and fell onto her bum as the box fell, but she was completely unharmed. She momentarily examined her arms with an upset expression, anticipating injury despite their being none. Quickly, Oliver interjected.

“Good thinking! It will be much easier to get them out like this. Clever girl.” He praised, seeing how her eyes locked onto him and a small smile cracked across her expression, arms forgotten about as she quickly focused back on the toys again, getting on her hands and knees, just grabbing whatever was closest and beaming as she showed it off to him.

He chuckled slightly, leaning forward onto his hands as he engaged with her, getting more of a feel and understanding of her personality. Like most four year olds, she soaked up praise and attention like a sponge— but she seemed to roll with things much more smoothly than others her age might have. She was resilient, and self assured; even if Oliver needed to guide her there every now and then.

“Is that your favourite?” He asked, tone full of interest and wonder, as if he was just as excited about the random plastic tractor as she was. She nodded excitedly.

“And— and it's got…it's got um… a farmer. Called…Emma…” She announced happily, quickly dropping the toy onto the carpet as she searched for the farmer. During her search though she got distracted by the other things in there, showing them off only halfway as she piled the various toys around her.

She was playing with and fidgeting with them all individually, monologuing about what she was doing in what was mostly just incoherent babble due to her being unable to pronounce most of the words. That didn't stop her though, and Oliver happily listened, paying attention and engaging every now and then to assure her that all eyes were on her at that moment.

This worked for about twenty minutes until she started getting bored playing all by herself. She looked at Oliver, her red cheeks and purple lips having returned to normal by now since she was no longer crying, the snot having dried to her face. She waddled over to him and Oliver sat up straight, but didn't jolt or make any sudden movements.

She smiled as she snatched him off of the edge of the TV stand, Oliver just barely holding in a yelp as he had seen the hand coming at the last second. He winced, arms held awkwardly to his sides by her grubby fingers and causing his elbows to dig into his ribs a little. Her grip was tight enough to bruise and almost pushed all the breath out of him, but it was just loose enough for him to breathe.

“Ava— can you try to be gentle, please?” He asked, voice coming out a bit strained despite himself. He pulled his grimace into a calm smile, maintaining the same warm reassuring demeanour despite the aching pain in his body.

She paused for a moment, blinking down at him owlishly, not understanding what he meant. Her hesitation didn't last long though as she settled back down by the toys, laying down on her stomach and holding Oliver in front of her innocent eyes, her other hand coming closer to feel his hair curiously, mesmerised.

Oliver held still— squirming would either cause her grip to tighten, which could very easily break his bones, or it might make her afraid of him. He masked a groan of pain by clearing his throat, still smiling as her tiny but surprisingly strong fingers pushed his head to the side slightly.

“You're…as small as Emma..!” She declared excitedly, and Oliver winced when that grip tightened a bit more in turn. Any more and it could quickly become dangerous for him. He recalled the farmer she mentioned before and the size comparison— he wasn't unused to being compared to a doll.

“Oh yes, you're absolutely right! Good girl. I am just the right size for her tractor too, aren't I? Can you put me in the tractor, Ava?” He asked, trying to calmly redirect her and free himself in the process as soon as possible, as it was now difficult to inhale. His ribs creaked in protest, but he fought off the instinct to kick at all.

Perking up at the suggestion she immediately nodded, sitting up on her forearms as she looked for the tractor and finding it quickly. Once she had she shuffled around to face it, resting her cheek on the ground and smiling as she lowered Oliver into the seat of the plastic tractor.

Oliver released some of the tension that had been growing in his shoulders, inhaling some much needed air as he sat back on the slightly too large plastic seat. Just as he was in the middle of recovering though his hands instinctively clutched the fake pink wheel in front of him as the tractor; and he along with it; was suddenly lifted into the air.

It was very disorienting to fly through the air like he was as Ava delightedly made chugging sounds and waved the tractor around to pretend it was driving, but it was preferred to the death grip she had held him in before. After a couple of minutes of holding on for dear life and just trying to pretend he was on the back of his bird steed instead, the tractor finally stopped moving around as he was instead held up close to her eyes.

Oliver was a bit shaky from the sequence of events so far, but he still managed to smile up at the giant toddler.

I'm not sure how many hours I'll be able to handle this. I need to try to explain how fragile I am to her…

Before he could even attempt that though, Ava was already speaking.

“I'll be the… the mummy and you can be the baby..!” She announced, and it was not so much a question as it was a role that, to her, Oliver was already accepting. That became clear when she began to babble about the setting and other stuff, but Oliver was more focused on the hand approaching him.

“Ava, listen to me.” He spoke with a slightly firmer tone than before, due to how dangerous this could get without intervention. She recognized that, her smile dropping and hand falling back immediately, eyes completely focused on him. He suspected he had very little time before she would lose that focus and grab him again anyway, but he sighed in relief that she had stopped.

Looking up at her, Oliver could tell plainly that his seriousness was putting her on edge. So, he shifted his time to be more light-hearted again as he smiled.

“I have a game for us to play. But you have to listen really closely to the rules, okay? Are you going to be a good girl and listen?” He asked.

His return to being more playful made her relax again, and she nodded eagerly at the sound of a game idea. Oliver was relieved. Some children were determined to get their own way, and would simply ignore the idea of another game for the sake of playing what they wanted to.

“I'm a good girl…a-already..!” She pointed out, a bit tongue-tied as most toddlers were. Oliver let out a small chuckle. It was easy to forget how dangerous young children could be when staring up into their innocent gazes.

“You're absolutely right. But, I still want you to listen, okay?” He emphasised, wanting to keep her on track. He cleared his throat. “Do you know about…Goldilocks and the three bears?”

She perked up and nodded, putting the tractor down in favour of leaning on her forearms and looking at Oliver that way. Taking advantage of the solid ground, he climbed out of the driver's seat and stood on legs that felt a bit like jelly from all the jostling that had been done to him earlier. She thankfully did not seem to have a problem with it, instead only taking the opportunity to reach ahead and give Oliver a small poke.

He stumbled ever so slightly, but got his balance back immediately and showed no reaction to the poke to avoid sparking any interest in that interaction. Not until he was sure she understood she needed to be gentle, and he could already tell she was getting distracted.

“In this game, you get to be Goldilocks!” He announced, adding a bit of theatrical flare to his words to make the idea sound as exciting as possible. It seemed to work as he saw her shift with excitement, eyes gleaming with joy. “Do you want to guess what I'll be?”

Ava ummed and ahhed about it for a few moments before looking down at him with a bright expression.

“Bear!” She guessed. That was exactly the answer Oliver was expecting and it made sense for a child of her age to guess that.

“That's a great guess! You were close too. Both things start with a ‘buh’ sound after all.” He praised, emphasising the phonics with enthusiasm. “I'm going to be…a bed.”

The toddler giggled, rolling on the floor restlessly as she took in Oliver's words. She looked at him, now laying on her back and seeing him upside down, thoroughly entertained by the sight and thought. As Oliver wanted, she was hooked.

“You— can't be a…a bed..! Beds are for sleeping..!” She pointed out, finding the absurdity extremely amusing, and intrigued by Oliver's game. He was quick to play into her playful manner, taking on a more humorous tone.

“Ah, you're right! Beds are for sleeping…it would be a bit silly for you to sleep on me, wouldn't it?” He pointed out, eliciting a squeal of laughter. Ava rolled back onto her front, gaze still focused on him, and hands thankfully clutching the front of her shirt instead of him. Oliver smiled, and continued.

“No, of course not… But, just like Goldilocks found a bed that was just right, I want you to do the same thing. And when I tell you it's just right, you win! If you win 10 whole times, you get a prize. Does that sound fun?”

Really it was a very convoluted way of explaining things, but Ava seemed to engage best with praise and play, so Oliver was trying to incorporate that as much as possible to keep her happy.

Ava nodded again, so Oliver explained the rules more clearly.

“First, you're going to pick me up. If you hold me too tight I'll say ‘too hard’. If you hold me not tight enough I'll say ‘too soft’. But if you hold me gently, I will say ‘just right’. When I say ‘just right', put me back down and we'll play again. Ready?”

Without waiting for him to say go, she was already reaching forwards and picking him up, her fingers quickly squeezing onto him in the same painful grip as before. Oliver expected that for a start, and strained to speak, hopeful that this method would work.

“Too hard…” He tried to keep a light tone despite the fact that all of the air was being pushed from his lungs by those deceptively small fingers. Realising that winning wasn't as easy as she first thought, Ava concentrated; tongue sticking out again as she opened her fingers a bit. The grip was much too loose, and Oliver dropped a little because of it, having to cling onto her fingers to keep from falling.

“Too soft..!” He spoke through his big inhale of needed air, relieved at the lack of broken bones despite knowing that this would involve a few rounds of trial and error before she would consistently know the right level of pressure. The fingers closed in again, just on the edge of being too tight. But, as it was close enough, and to avoid making her lose interest too quickly, he counted it.

“Just right! Very good job, Ava. That's 1 win!” He praised. “Aren't you clever?”

The process repeated again and again, and to keep Ava's engagement with the game Oliver offered up rewards in between rounds— like a finger five (which she liked a lot) and invisible stickers. By the seventh round she had learned that ‘just right’ was closer to ‘too soft’ than ‘too hard’, and so Oliver wasn't worrying about having his ribs broken each round anymore.

They reached round 10 very quickly, and she got ‘just right’ immediately, much to her delight and pride.

“That was incredible, Ava! I'm impressed that you got the hang of that so quickly.” He smiled genuinely. Although the bruises from earlier were bad and would take a while to heal, at least he could rest assured that he had a method to help prevent further bruising. “Your prize is… I'll play any game you want.”

Already he could feel the fingers begin to tighten again as her focus turned away from her grip and to thinking of a new game.

“But!” Oliver quickly interjected, stopping her in her tracks. “I'm still going to tell you if it's just right or not when you hold me, okay? Just to test if you're paying attention.”

It was all continuing to go relatively well, and Oliver was perfectly content playing along with the child's imaginative play provided his bones stayed intact. Whenever Oliver felt her grip getting too tight or too loose he made sure to correct her and heaped her with lots of praise once she got it right.

Ava had completely forgotten about her parents being gone, just enjoying playing games with Oliver.

Faintly, he heard the sound of a car pulling up beside the house, and although he wasn't sure if it was one of her parents or not, it was soon confirmed by the sound of the front door unlocking. Ava also paused when she heard the door, sitting up a bit and turning around, her fingers held in her mouth as she stared.

A woman burst into the living room, letting the door swing open and not bothering to close it as she spotted Ava on the floor. As soon as the toddler saw her mother, her grip on Oliver completely released as she began crying again, immediately returning to the same distress as before now that she remembered what had happened. Her little hands instinctively reached towards the woman, making grabbing motions.

Oliver landed on the carpet with a small ‘oof’, before backpedalling into the shadows under the TV stand, watching as the mother rushed over and scooped up the crying toddler, apologising profusely and smothering her in affection to try to get her to calm down.

He smiled slightly at the sight, relieved that Ava was now in her caretakers hands again. His body was equally relieved, and he winced as a pang of pain shot out from the various bruises he had acquired whilst entertaining the curious toddler.

He didn't stick around for too long after, once he was sure that Ava was going to be well taken care of. He managed to find the entrance he had come out from in the first place, retrieving his glasses and placing them on his face. His finger pushed at the bridge to put it in the right place again as he slung his pack over his shoulder and walked outside to whistle for Gale.

I'll have to cut this trip short…but the bruises were well worth it.

[buttercupshands]

Congratulations on nothing. I'm back to drawing LoV again after a bit of a break

those are mostly just a redraw practice for fun Toga is a try in "more canon way of drawing" with color practice too

I'm sorry that it's in russian because I have to have some will to localize jokes that came into my head while drawing it

it's like... a robot au??? or something, mostly just a joke "what if AFo just built Tenko and changed what he wanted"

and this is a joke about our 'favorite' 419 plot twist so it's basically just a bunch of joked about AFO failing to get any way to get control instead Tenko's head is not empty. It downloaded games, friends and stuff about being a hero but NOT as a literal hero, more on "villains need help I'm a hero then" way

and yes that text behind is "hands" written all over the place bc I wanted to add hands in handwritten form

[taegularities]

some men are textbook villains fr

[roomba-mangga]

taking a little break from writing for a few days to cool down the brain but first... yaad&thistle au fic preview under the cut. this is clocking in at 12k atm, i haven't finished drafting all the scenes yet, but i am deeply enjoying this one.

[gothsuguru]

i love muting people on twitter some of you bitches are very dumb

[stargoyle]

[[vent in tags]]

[kakusu-shipping]

Ok I remember seeing a tag on a post about your fnaf s/i being a daycare kid and I wanted to hear more about that!! Also I know you favour a bitchier Sun (positive) than most of fandom and I just wanted to hear about the vibe of your selfship!!

Anon I'm hoping your still around thankyou so much for not only asking once, but asking to make sure your ask was received and then asking again when it wasn't. You dedication to asking about this is appreciated.

Warning; This is one of Regressed Me's Self Inserts so just a general read at your own risk here, bad things happen to little me's S/Is.

Post long, under the cut it goes

This one all starts back when the Pizzaplex was at it's peak. When Foxy, the Daycare's Mascot, when mysteriously missing the higher ups were desperate to get a replacement in fast. They eventually settled on the animatronic from the Theater, which was always just a bonus of the daycare anyway and never pulled in much profit.

The Sun personality was set to watch the kids during play, given basic instructions on how Arts and Crafts are done, a list of rules to enforce, and a very ambiguous code that makes the animatronics "Love Kids" that had also been used with the Glamrocks with apparent success. The Moon personality was originally set to be removed, but when that failed they just loaded him with the Naptime rules and called it a day.

The two were a rush job to fit the criteria of "Daycare Attendant" and had many, many flaws in their coding, caused both by the speed in which they were forced to learn these new rules and the failed attempt to remove Moon shocking their systems.

The two enforced their given rules with upmost strictness, the kind that most kids couldn't keep up with. No talking, no bathroom breaks without permission, no coloring outside the lines, no deviation from the blueprints, Playtime became unbearable. Naptime wasn't any better. Lights go off and you'd better be still and asleep, or at least look asleep. Sun was Mean but Moon was Scary.

Somehow though, the Daycare remained open. Years passed and the kids who once knew of a Red Pirate Fox who'd encourage them to run and color outside the lines aged out, and a new generation of little ones came under the new laws of the Daycare, and time continued on.

As stated, most children couldn't keep up with Sun's strict rules. Most is not all. One shining example of a Daycare Superstar was Emile, a 4 year old Autistic child who was left from open to close at the Pizzaplex Daycare every day without fail. His plethora of undiagnosed mental disabilities meant his coloring stayed within the lines and his toys were always sorted by color, size, and species, while his obvious parental neglect made him an innate people pleaser, willing follow Sun's unreasonable rules to a T in the hopes of receiving even a crumb of praise from the only Authority Figure who'd so much as look at him.

He was Sun's Golden Child, his most favoritest star in the sky, the most perfect kid to ever come to the Daycare. This isn't to say he got better treatment, of course, he still had to wait hours for a trip to the bathroom, and finish all his crafts for the day before he'd be given snack, and lay perfectly still and keep his breathing even during naptime. But he was still the clear favorite. The perfect child. Sun's absolute favorite.

So when Sun was given word the Daycare was being shut down due to complaints from parents well... He couldn't let his golden child be taken from him.

Emile wasn't the first kid to enter the Pizzaplex and not come back out, it helped that his parents barely made it in time to pick him up on time on a good day. The investigation into his disappearance was short and then promptly swept under the rug as the daycare was closed for the time being.

Sun and Moon always had their own secret room. It had old Theater things, unused Daycare objects, extra stock for the Gift Shop, an old arcade machine, broken glass... Everything a child could need!

Living in the Daycare was perfect for Emile, not only was he already use to living by Sun's perfect schedule, he now got to be the soul object of Sun's attention. This was not as great for Sun, as the isolation, just He, Moon, and Emile, finally let him start recognizing the problems in his coding, and the alternate meaning to "loving kids".

He grew anxious by the day, his previously perfect work as a Daycare Attendant crumbling around him. He wasn't perfect. There was something wrong with him. So wrong they'd shut down the daycare. He was imperfect, he was breaking rules just by THINKING like this, rule breaker rule breaker.

Emile, forever locked at 4 as he'd forgotten when his Birthday was meant to happen, became Sun's emotional support. He didn't understand the things Sun said sometimes, he didn't get why it was bad for Sun to hold him, or want to kiss him. He wanted those thing too after all, so it can't be bad! Mr. Sun's an adult, and adults make the rules, and Emile loves to follow rules made by adults.

During the events of Security Breach Emile helps Gregory find the generators, having lived in the Daycare long enough to memorize the layout even in the dark, and knowing all the places Mr. Moon can't go.

However, he still eventually gets caught and carried high into the air by Moon. Gregory runs to the last generator and flips it, the lights flick on just as Moon tosses Emile from the highest point of the Daycare. Sun, now fronting in the light, unclips himself from Moon's wire and dives after Emile. They both hit the ground with a horrible crash.

Sun is horribly damaged, but still manages to pull himself up and kick Gregory from the Daycare before returning to Emile's side. Emile, human and tiny and frail, succumbs to his wounds in the arms of The Daycare Attendant, who in the moment is neither Sun nor Moon but someone who cares not for rules but for the safety of the children in their care. Someone who has failed at their job as a Daycare Attendant, and will not do so again.

During Ruin I imagine the mildly decayed corpse of Sun's golden child can be found at a small table somewhere, with a tea set and stuffed animals in the chairs around him. Sun's coping well when he's fronting I think.

[waywardsalt]

ive spent like 20 minutes trying to world this eloquently but i give up; im a big fan of linebeck just. not being capable of watching over kids not the person to be the guardian of a group of young people he struggles to take care of himself at times and has so much shit going on that it takes about one conversation with oshus for the old man to realize that this guy is. not doing great

[echolett]

I think out of all the characters in dndads I feel like I get Grant, Lark, hermie and Scary the most

[asilosmagdalena]

The way that Kuwana's entire character arc, design, and casting was made specifically for me is SO uncanny it's actually scary... It's like Nagoshi bugged and recorded my therapy sessions except it's so deep it taps into something I never talked about in therapy until Lost Judgment made it a relevant topic lol. Like the mf looked into my recurring nightmares from childhood and sublimated all of my repressed traumas into a singular fictional character. A serial killer that vapes btw

[public-benches]

one of my favorite things in dunmeshi is how chilchuck turns out to be the guy in the party with the least to hide despite how much he goes out of his way to act all secretive. like the more we learn about everyone else it seems like they’ve all got like trauma or crimes or even just oddities that they don’t share explicitly not bc they’re hiding anything, but just because it’s never come up, or it’s too much of a hassle to explain, or it just didn’t occur to them. meanwhile, Normal Man Chilchuck is finding new gray hairs every morning because his friends want to know how old he is and his darkest secret is that his wife left him for being… too secretive. like up against a monster-phile, a dark mage, a circus attraction and Schrödinger’s cannibal, him making such a big deal out of having three adult kids is kinda epic

[allofuswantgwinam]

tw maybe idk, i say p*doph*le

this pedophile ass mfer Brian Peck is just out there living his life… that makes me so upset for real. what the fucking hell.

[satoruxx]

normally toji prides himself on being the perfect guard dog—not that he would ever tell you that. but you never have to worry about guys coming up to you when your hulking monster of a boyfriend remains at your side, continuously glaring down his nose at everyone he sees.

this usually works pretty well.

on adults.

but now, as you and him wait in line at the counter of the grocery store, he can only let out a huff of irritation as he watches the little brat in front of you both stare over his mother’s shoulder—big wide eyes locked on you.

at first you don’t really notice, too busy blabbering about something silly as you look around the store. but when you finally lock eyes with the child, you notice the way he seems to go shy, pressing his cheek deeper into his mom’s shoulder. his eyes flick away from your face for just a second, before timidly looking back. as soon as he does, you break into the sweetest, most giddy smile.

(toji would move mountains for a glimpse of that smile—and yet here this kid is just getting it without a shred of work.)

you tilt your head, raising a hand to gently wave at the boy, who flushes further under your attention, but lifts his cheek a little more. chubby fingers come up to meekly wave back, and you hold back a silent coo of affection, eyes filled with honey-like sweetness. with every little giggle and silly face you make at the boy, he seems to get more and more comfortable—toji watches you melt.

the unlucky little brat then quickly peeks at the giant man looming beside you, and toji can’t resist. his face pulls into a evil smile, teeth on full display as he wiggles his fingers sinisterly. the expression has its desired effect—the kid recoils, eyes going wide before burying his face into his mother’s neck. in a few minutes, the boy and his mom are heading out the store and you and toji start loading the groceries onto the belt.

“i saw that, you know?”

toji glances up, seeing your semi disapproving frown, and he cocks his head in faux innocence. “saw what?”

“you’re mean,” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “scaring little kids like that. quite literally the object of their nightmares.”

“ah, he’ll be alright,” toji grunts, taking the bags from the cashier in one hand and reaching for your palm with the other. “it’ll build his character.”

you snort. “he’ll have trauma.”

“like i said,” he grins, a canine display. “character.”

you roll your eyes as he tugs you out of the store—your grip on him unwilling to falter.

toji lives just like this, successful in scaring off any other person who considers giving you attention, whether that’s an adult or a little kid. and despite your exasperated complaints to at least lay off the children (they’re harmless), toji has known for a long time that he can be nothing but selfish when it comes to you.

so forgive him, if he quickly turns to this evil little tactic to scare away kids—it’s all he can really do. besides, it always works.

until now.

you’re sitting under a tree at a small park, working on some dumb assignment for one of your lectures. toji lays on his back next to you, arm draped over his eyes in a momentary respite from the normal danger of his life—eerily content.

the peace is broken by the rustling of tiny footsteps in the grass.

“here you go.”

toji pulls his arm away to peer at the owner of the voice. a boy stands there, hair tousled as he waits in front of you with his arm outstretched—in between his chubby fingers is a singular dandelion.

your eyes widen, cheeks splitting into a wide smile as you coo out your affection. “aw for me?”

the boy nods mutely, cheeks flushed as he thrusts the flower further into your view. you delicately pluck it from his hands, inhaling the fragrance with a grateful smile. “well thank you. it’s beautiful.”

he shyly kicks at a spot of grass, lips pulling up into a giddy smile under your sweet praise. “just like you,” he mumbles under his breath and you squeal softly, giggling at how adorable this kid truly is.

toji sits up before you can say anything else, lips pulled into a displeased frown as he crosses his bulky arms across his chest. “hey.” his voice comes out low and tense, even as he stares down his nose at the boy. “what are you doing?”

you turn to look at your boyfriend, at the exaggerated sneer that normally works wonders in scaring kids away, and you hold back an exasperated sigh. “toji—“

“who are you?” the boy frowns, sass appearing out of thin air as he looks toji up and down like he’s nothing but dirt under his colorful sneakers. you gape at him, eyes darting back and forth between the two as a smile threatens to make its way into your face. toji’s lips part in surprise, a tingle of heat crawling up his neck as he hears your hushed gasp of held back laughter.

“her boyfriend,” he grunts back, eyes narrowed in a way that’s oddly similar to the expression on the kid’s face.

“no way!” the boy huffs, pouting indignantly. his cheeks flush as he glares at toji—unfazed.

“uh, yes way.” toji realizes how petty he sounds, but he’s adamant—unwilling to stand down in anything that involves you.

the boy crosses his arms, mirroring toji’s pose. he rolls his eyes emphatically, lip curling as he sneers down his nose.

“isn’t she too pretty for you?” he asks bluntly. you smother another disbelieving gasp, and toji suddenly feels an unfamiliar thrill rush through his veins—this kid had guts.

“what do you know, brat?” there’s a smirk evident in toji’s voice now, and he uncrosses his arms to lean back on his palms, eyes shining with feral mirth.

“i have eyes,” the boy snaps back, putting both hands on his hips to appear more intimidating—it doesn’t work, he just looks cuter. “i can see her.”

“well quit it,” toji huffs in return. “not yours to look at.”

the kid narrows his eyes. “you’re mean!”

“and you’re nosy!”

“how am i nosy?”

“you’re comin’ over here and givin’ my girl flowers!”

“she deserves flowers!”

“of course she does! from me, you little brat!”

“you suck, old man!”

“what did you just call me?!”

a shout from across the park disrupts the heated bickering, and you all turn to see an older woman waving the boy over. he looks down at you, a sweet smile washing over his face as he tilts his head innocently. “that’s my mom. i have to go home now.”

“heh, sure thing. get home safe, okay?” you shoot toji an amused glance as you speak, and he sends a displeased glare back as he stubbornly crosses his arms again.

the boy nods, beaming at you. “okay! see you later!” he chirps. but just as he’s about to leave he turns back, eyes fixated on toji. “i hope your boyfriend learns how to be nice!”

and then he runs off.

you snort out another laugh, which only gets louder when you catch a glimpse of the way toji is practically sulking in the corner—scowling at the kid’s back with narrowed eyes.

the whole thing is so unbelievably endearing, and you can’t stop grinning as you pack up your things and stand up.

“let’s go home, toji.” you hold your palm out for him, and you’re rewarded with a pointed glance—he takes your hand anyway. even as you both exit the park, toji has an unamused pout on his face, glaring ahead.

you can’t resist.

“don’t tell me you actually feel threatened now,” you giggle, grabbing his bicep and pressing close. toji glances at you from the corner of his eyes, unamused—which only seems to make you laugh harder. “oh come on! he was so cute!”

“little brat,” he grumbles in return. “couldn’t take a hint.”

“you’re mad because the eight year old kid at the park didn’t want to believe you were my boyfriend?”

“the fuck do you think? of course i am. what do i look like if not your fucking boyfriend?”

you chortle, practically falling on him with the weight of your amusement. he sighs, disgruntled.

“it’s not funny, kid.” toji rolls his eyes at you—internally, he’s trying not to grin.

“it’s so funny, toji.” you straighten up, smiling at him with stars in your eyes. “you’re ridiculous and it’s so cute.”

he scoffs, giving you a sidelong glance before reaching up to tug at your cheek. “i’m definitely not the cute one.” he murmurs offhandedly before internally smirking at the way you seem to be caught off guard by his statement.

“whatever,” you mumble, holding his arm as you both continue walking home in relative silence. from the corner of your eye you can see toji’s expression as he mutely stares ahead, deep in thought. you decide not to disturb him, content on just feeling his warmth bleeding into your palm—always at your side.

toji replays the incident in his head multiple times as you head home. the bickering, the sass, and the unfiltered adoration that little brat seemed to have for you.

something clicks.

as you’re pushing open the door of your apartment, you hear toji quietly chuckle from behind you, and you turn to look at him over you shoulder. “what?”

he shakes his head slowly, eyes shut even as an uncharacteristically soft smile tugs at his lips. “just thinking…”

“about what?” you ask curiously.

toji grins at you, cocking his head fondly. “when we have a kid, i want the little brat to be just like that.”

[elizabethemerald]

The New Wayne Kid was different than any of his siblings.

Dick had been loud and boisterous. Jason loud and crass. Tim calm yet sarcastic. Duke was friendly and had a cutting wit for insults. Cassandra had been quiet and uncomfortable in social situations. Damian had clearly been uninterested in making friends with his acerbic personality.

Danny, the newest Wayne kid was different and he was different in a way that both fit in with the Gotham natives and made him stand out so even those without capes wanted to protect him. He was shy and quiet during social engagements. He flinched at sudden sounds and recoiled from unwanted contact.

Anyone with a brain in their heads knew that if you ended up a Wayne adoptee, you must have really gone through it. Only the most inane and brainless (like Vicki Vale) were jealous of the kids and called them lucky. Danny, however seemed some how even worse off.

Those who had survived the horrors that Gotham could throw at people recognized a similar look in Danny's eyes. They say the way his siblings closed in around him when someone said something off color, and the way he would almost stop breathing and zone out when sudden noises went off. They all knew he had faced the absolute worse humanity had to offer and was still putting himself back together after.

.

There's a new bird that's flying through the Gotham skies. He doesn't fight, only following the others around keeping them safe and performing search and rescue. He had an uncanny ability to find people trapped in rubble after explosions or natural disasters. He would ignore the fighting going on around him to get civilians out of the line of fire.

He went by the call sign Black Bird, and like Black Bat, he was always silent as he moved communicating through simple gestures to victims that he was there to help. The other Bats were clearly protective of him, and cared deeply for their newest bird. Once Black Bird had fled from Bane who had used explosives to draw the Bats out and the other Birds took turns beating the snot out of Bane with and without his Venom.

Most of the rogues of Gotham realized quickly that Black Bird was off limits. Especially since he would save anyone no matter what side of the law that fell on. Rogue or Bat, Goon, Cop or Civilian. If you were hurt, trapped or out of a fight, he would get you out and get you to medical care.

.

It was something of a tradition in Gotham city for Brucie to host a gala for the first birthday each of his kids celebrated with him. For better or worse. Dick had still been too new, too raw from his loss and Brucie wasn't as skilled at protecting his kids from the media during his first birthday. He had punched a reporter who had gotten in his face during the gala right in the teeth. Rumor was Wayne Industries paid for the reporter's dental care on the condition that they never take up the pen again.

Jason had been uncomfortable and wary during his birthday bash, and when Two Face had shown up to cause a scene and had snatched on of Jason's presents out of his grasp, the still half-feral street rat had tackled the man to the ground.

Cassandra had seemed mostly confused. She didn't recognize some of the presents or what they were for. However she was the only one who would turn down a gift before even opening it. She would look at each person coming up and turn most away before they could even offer a gift.

Tim and Duke had behaved mostly as expected during their bashes. Both of them had fake smiles plastered on their faces and had given bland thank yous for every present so it was impossible to tell if they liked it or not.

It was very easy to tell if Damian like things or not. He would closely inspect each gift as if he was Robin inspecting for bombs or poison, then declare the few he liked as, "Passable." Any that weren't deemed passable were harshly critiqued and tossed in a discard pile. No one had made note of the art supplies he had added to his keep pile until the next year when the gala also played host to some of his original paintings, including a stunningly realistic painting of a breathtakingly beautiful woman with brown skin and middle eastern garb.

.

When it came time for Danny's turn, a few of the more cruel socialites had bets on whether the even would be a disaster or not. Of course any who were over heard making such comments were swiftly escorted from the premises. Some worried that it may have been too soon for Danny, he was clearly scared and uncomfortable being in the lime light.

However his midwest charm quickly won the doubters back. He seemed so genuinely thankful for every gift, no matter how small. He also wasn't without the sass that made living in Gotham bearable. If there was a gift that felt especially backhanded or petty, he was quick to roast the gifter to within an inch of their lives, slowly coming out of his shell and revealing a winning personality.

There were numerous coos when some reporter from Metropolis gave Danny a telescope. Some swore the kid had actual stars in his eyes and he had to be stopped by Tim and Damian from leaving immediately to set it up. The next several presents were over ridden by his excitedly spouting of facts about stars and planets.

The bright mood of the gala crashed like one of Danny's meteors when he opened the next present. He could only stare in horror, his already pale complexion losing all color. His hands shook and he looked on the edge of either vomiting or passing out.

Bruce raced to his side and after only a brief glance inside snatched Danny away from the gift with such vigor that the package fell from his nerveless grasp to fall open on the floor.

Inside, to the gasps of shock and fear from the watching crowd was a mutilated raven.

Both wings were messily cut off. Its chest was cut open, then stitched back closed, a ticking bomb with only a few minutes left on the clock had been placed inside. A red smile was painted across the raven's beak. The threat could only have come one sadist. The Joker.

Joker's threat was clear, even the new protector in Gotham wouldn't be able to keep Gotham's newest prince safe.

When Nightwing arrived moments later and defused the messy bomb, the rage on his face said that the bats were going to be taking both the threat to Black Bird and the threat to Danny Wayne very seriously. The clown better watch his back.

Bruce Wayne has a new adoptee that quickly stole the hearts of Gothamites for his personality. The birds gains a new baby brother that doesn't like to fly. The joker finds a new plaything.

Danny receives a mutilated crow and a smile on his birthday.

[waterinathermostat]

Guys I fucking hate my roommates so much I can’t take it anymore