#maybe another snippet but

[aroaceleovaldez]

i have suddenly become obsessed with a theme that HoO established but never proceeded to extrapolate on, which is:

You are Percy Jackson, and you have been swapped with a boy who was allegedly everyone's favorite person, but they have decided to replace him with you. They just met you. You stand next to his best friend and the people he's known his entire life. In his home. In his cloak. In his place. They stopped looking for him.

You are Jason Grace, and you have just found out you have a long lost sister who completely replaced you in her life with this girl you just met. Your lives and personalities are mirrors. She is you, living the life you were robbed of.

You are Annabeth Chase, and you have just become starkly aware that you have been inhabiting the void left behind by your best friend's long lost brother. You and Luke were just replacements for him. Now you have to look him in the eyes when he has nothing and know you took that life from him.

You are Piper McLean, and you have just found out your relationship is fake and built entirely on the memories of Annabeth Chase. You have been given a boyfriend when hers has been taken away. You have no idea how much of it is real or not but regardless you feel like if your relationship isn't exactly in their image that you have failed.

You are Leo Valdez, and you have just learned that you are the echo of your great-grandfather. You are not your own person. You just exist to be a mirror of him. A doppelganger. An actor and stunt double facing all the danger he never had to but wearing his face. To be there for his best friend decades later simply because he couldn't. You are playing a role. A seventh wheel and a pawn for a goddess who carefully sculpted your entire life for her own purposes.

You are Hazel Levesque, and the only reason you are alive is because your brother couldn't save your his sister. You are a consolation prize. An apology. Your existence here is misplaced in every way but you inhabit it anyways.

You are Frank Zhang, and you are a shapeshifter. Inhabiting your own body feels strange and clumsy when you could be literally anything at any time. You are anything and everything and live your life with the simple certainty of knowing exactly how you will die.

[lace-tf]

daily koss #18: guy who totally doesn’t have deranged kinks due to unresolved issues he really should work through … bsky

Trying to do the ‘post-war redemption (-ish) arc relationship thing’ means indulging your (ugh) (shudder) (gag) partner when he calls in a ‘weird interface favour.’ Sadly, you are less dense about his feelings than you used to be. What the frag was all that about?! (…Maybe you’ll admit it felt good in the moment, though.)

[straw-eri-chan]

What if Kon was the one who raised their clone baby instead of Tim?

“Oh.”

Kon stared at the baby in the test tube of green goo. The baby that had Tim’s little face but said very clearly on the screen was made of *his* DNA.

“Oh.” He repeated, and hesitated and all of thirty more seconds before punching the glass. He wasn’t thinking about the consequences. That was a baby in a test tube. A baby that would not be staying in a test tube any longer.

The second he picked the little thing up and held it in his arms, Kon honestly thought it had given him some sort of disease. His pulse was racing, his heart was full, and he felt so light he was *actually* floating. He knew if anything touched the baby in his arms to cause it harm he’d absolutely *destroy* them.

“Hi there.” He cooed, and seriously, *cooed?* That wasn’t a thing he normally did. He loved kids, loved them a lot, but even he didn’t normally *coo* at them. But there was something about this baby that made Kon feel something he’d never felt before. A kind of love so deep rooted and impossible to ignore it kind of hurt. “What’s your name?”

Like a normal baby, it—*he.* The baby was a boy. He was a he. Not an it. *He* didn’t respond to Kon’s question. Which, fair. He was so freaking *tiny!*

He didn’t need to know his name. Kon was already convinced this kid was *his.*

[emryses]

i've decided not to share my full cameo because they responded to some personal stuff i'd rather not be spread around, but the boys were so, so sweet and kind and i cried a lot lol. i still wanted to share some of it with everyone. so i've transcribed what they said!

i asked them: if prompted, what would the boys say their favourite thing is about the other?

J: I think Charles' favourite thing about Edwin would be his organization, and his knowledge for the work. [George nodded and agreed with this] Because that is kind of what the boys are doing together, you know? They're detectives and they're solving theses cases and if Charles was left to his own devices [he laughs] to kind of sort out cases and everything there would be no organization and no body would have a clue what the hell is going on. G: Yeah and I would say off the back of that, Edwin's favourite thing is that he knows that Charles is--well I think he's very moved by how protective he is of him, even though he wouldn't admit it. But I think he appreciates how Charles is really happy to get his hands dirty. Charles is the one who throws the grenade. Edwin builds it, Charles does the dirty work. I don't think Edwin physically likes to get his hands dirty, so I would say that. But I also would say, you know, we've talked about it a lot in our interviews and it's commented on how they kind of complete each other. And I also think it's worth saying, I think the boys know that. I think they know that their favourite thing about the other is that the other is like their other half. J: It really is like the ying to the yang, isn't it? G: Yeah, and I think they're aware of it, I don't think it's just something that you see from the outside in. So I would say that is ultimately, for sure, Edwin's favourite thing about Charles.

the only other thing i'll add is jayden signed off the cameo by saying "love from your dead boys" because in my message i said i hoped it was okay that i referred to them as "my dead boys" to which they BOTH were like "we ARE your dead boys" which was well and truly the end for me.😭

i love them so very much. our dead boys. ❤️💙

[yoonjae20]

A series of snapshots of how the public views Danny’s return [Bruce/Danny; Spirit Halloween]

I can't believe it's been already 5 days since I last written something. University has kept me so busy.

Anyway — on to the next part! I tried something different for the first half, I hope it's not too jarring. I thought it would be fun to have a sort of outside view of how the public see Danny and Bruce.

Read on ao3. Masterpost.

Previous. Next.

“Did you guys see the interview Lois Lane did with Bruce Wayne and his husband?” 

“I was so shocked when I heard the news. They do look cute together though!”

“I still can't believe that the most eligible bachelor of Gotham had been married all along! It does explain why he never dated anyone.”

“I know right! But they must be super private for it to only come out now.”

“Actually they said in the interview that his husband was busy with other affairs outside the country.”

“Don’t you think it almost makes it sound like he’s a royalty from a far away land? He was so serious when he said he needed to take care of his duties and responsibilities.”

“No way you are believing that conspiracy theory. There’s a thread that debunked it already. Apparently he’s from some no name city in the Midwest.”

“I did think he had an accent I couldn’t place. Did you watch the clip of the interview where Lois Lane asked who proposed first?”

“Wait, what? I can’t believe I missed that, I hadn’t had time to watch the full interview!”

“Me neither.”

“Here let me pull it up.”

“-So who proposed first?”

Danny and Bruce look at each other for a moment and the latter groans at the expression his husband wears.

“Please not, love.”

“But it’s such an adorable story!” 

“Now I’m only more curious,” Lois chuckles. 

“Well we were quite drunk that day to be honest,” Danny laughs. “It was almost midnight when we decided we needed a hotel. Unfortunately all rooms were booked other than a Love Suite.”

Lois leans forward, eager to hear more.

“The receptionist said they don’t have a room for us both unless we are a couple-“

Bruce buries his face into his hands.

“And Bruce said and I quote ‘Actually we are fiancées.’ I don’t know if the receptionist or Bruce was more flustered when we woke up in the morning.”

“Wow!” Lois exclaims. “I never thought I’d see the day where Bruce is embarrassed.”

Bruce still doesn’t look up from where he hides his face. 

“Yeah he couldn’t look me in the eyes for the entire following day,” Danny snickers. “I actually asked him when the wedding would be while we were eating breakfast. He almost choked on his food!” 

The clips ends and the girls giggle.

“And still people believe Bruce Wayne isn’t a huge himbo.” 

“I do wonder how his youngest came to be. Did he cheat while his husband was away on business?”

One of the girls opens her mouth but before she can share her opinion the other interrupts.

“If you tell me you believe the rumors he’s a clone too then I’m gonna hit you, Sarah.” 

“I’m just saying that we never saw his mother in public!” 

A loudspeaker announces the next stop.

“Come on, we’ll have to hurry to get the bus.”

Their voices fade as they leave the subway. 

“Huh, isn’t that Bruce Wayne’s husband? Who is that next to him?”

“I think that’s Jason Todd, you know the one who died and came back a few years ago? Apparently he was in witness protection or something.”

“Wow, I almost didn’t recognize him. They look so familiar with each other.”

They watch as the older man cackles as he throws fries in his mouth while the younger scowls and playfully punches the man’s forearm. 

“Yeah I heard that now that he is back in Gotham he has been on several outings with the rest of Bruce’s kids.”

“Even with his youngest?”

“Yeah they went to the zoo. With his oldest son he visited him at work I think. He also went to his daughter’s performance. I’m not sure if he did something with the Drake boy.”

“Talking about the devil…”

The door to the Batburger opens, Tim Drake as well as the rest of Bruce Wayne’s brood following him. The older man cheerfully greets them, ruffling the hair of Tim as he sits down next to him. Soon their happy chatter fills the fast food restaurant and the ones watching them move on to other topics. 

“I was skeptical but they do make a good pair.”

Bruce Wayne and his husband are greeting their guests for the charity with matching suits and beaming smiles. Bruce leans to whisper something in the man’s ear and he nods. He politely excuses himself before he hurries out of the room with a champagne glass in hand. 

“Indeed. I’m a bit surprised how well adjusted his husband is, considering I can’t recall ever seeing him at a gala.”

Bruce watches the man go with a genuine smile before he turns back to the people surrounding him.

“That brings me back to when Mr. Wayne first returned to Gotham. I can’t help but feel he looks more at ease now.”

“I know what you mean. He’s mellowed out a lot over the years. To think he had a secret lover he had been hiding all this time…”

“And he seems to be getting along with his kids too. Talking about them-”

Damian Wayne approaches his father, telling him something. Bruce hums before he excuses himself and his son as they go in the direction his husband had gone too. The two high society members quickly forgot about the strangeness of it. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Tim Drake so serious.”

“To think that Mr. Wayne would have died without his husband there- It sickens me.”

“The fact that his son has to hold the press conference must mean his injuries are even worse than speculated.”

“I heard that he might need to relearn to walk too.”

“His husband looked furious when the reporters swarmed them once they arrived at the scene — honestly I would be too.”

“They have no shame.”

“I wouldn’t want to be them or the Clown now.”

“I can’t believe Red Robin and Signal let him slip away. Where were Batman and Robin anyway?”

“I have no idea either. And here I thought Batman favors Mr. Wayne and his family.”

“It did seem that way. If the Clown washes up dead, I’m betting on Mr. Wayne’s husband.”

“One can only hope.”

Danny opens the door with a sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. Those damn vultures. If he had known how annoying they would be, he would have convinced Bruce to go live with him in the Infinite Realms — although he knows that despite their love for each other, his need for revenge had outweighed everything else once he finished his travels across the world. 

He shakes his head and steps in the room, eyes trailing to the bed — Bruce should be still out on pain medications-

“Bruce!” Danny chides when he sees the man struggling to stand up from where he is seated on his bed. “What are you doing?”

He hurries to the man’s side and helps him back into the bed as he groans.

“What happened?”

Danny frowns as he sits down the chair next to his bedside. It pains him to see Bruce so obviously weak, face drenched in sweat — if he finds that Clown, he’ll-

“There was a Rogue attack during the charity gala,” Danny explains as he pushes away the dark thoughts — he can plan with Jason later. He is sure the boy will take him up on the offer. “Don’t you remember?”

“What about the target?”

Danny sighs as he leans back, eyes tired — he hadn’t slept a single wink since the incident, but leave it to Bruce to be concerned about anything other than his own health.

“Tim and Cass managed to detain them. We got surprised before you and Damian could change into your costumes.”

Danny knits his eyebrows together as Bruce raises a hand to his temple, obviously straining his memory to recall what happened. 

“You should rest, darling,” Danny leans forward and puts his hands over the man’s left hand. “My ectoplasm sped up things, but you were quite hurt. I'll tell the kids that you are awake.”

He moves to stand but Bruce grasps his wrist before he can move from his spot. It’s feather light — nothing like the reliable, strong grip Bruce normally has. Danny gnaws at his lips as he waits for Bruce to compose himself. 

“Stay,” he says, voice exhausted before he murmurs, “please.”

If this were any other circumstances Danny would have snorted at the man’s display of rather lacking emotional vulnerability, but this is also the first time in many years that he has seen the man seriously hurt and had been powerless to prevent it even though he had been right there. The comfort Bruce is seeking right now — it’s also something Danny needs. To make sure the man is still alive. 

The man scoots over as Danny climbs in the hospital bed and pulls him closer once Danny makes himself comfortable. Danny falls asleep to the rhythmic, slow sound of the man’s heartbeat.

Danny wakes up to hushed voices talking. He keeps his eyes closed as he becomes aware of his surroundings.There’s a hand in his hair and he can hear the rumble of Bruce’s chest as he speaks-

“-He looks too exhausted.”

“You should have seen him when he brought you to the ambulance,” Jason chuckles. “I thought he was gonna bite the next reporter that shoved themselves in his way.”

“We can be glad Daniel was there Father,” Damian says before he hesitates. “I don’t think I would have been able..:”

He trails off and the atmosphere turns somber. 

“Has there been a press conference yet?” Bruce asks as he shifts to hold Danny a bit closer.

“Yes, Tim took care of it,” Jason says. “He and Dick will come by tomorrow.”

“Very well,” Danny can feel Bruce nodding. “Go return to the manor, it’s getting late and I’m sure Alfred won’t appreciate you coming home after curfew.” 

Danny doesn’t need to open his eyes to know Jason is probably rolling his eyes.

“You say as if all your kids aren’t running around as vigilantes at night,” Jason says. “Besides I’m going to one of my safe houses for the night.”

Bruce grunts, displeased and Jason sighs. 

“Fine I’ll go to the manor,” he gives in. “But only because these are special circumstances.”

Bruce lets out a hum, now obviously pleased.

“Should we wake Danny?”

“No, Iet him sleep,” Bruce says, before a bit of amusement slips into his tone. “I’m sure the nurse will let it be once she recognizes him as Bruce Wayne’s husband.”

Jason scoffs, but doesn’t protest. Damian says goodbye to his father before both of them leave. It’s several minutes later that Bruce chuckles.

“I know that you are awake.”

Danny opens one eye, peaking at Bruce who is looking at him with a soft smile. He’s propped up against the headboard and Danny is relieved to see him looking better than when he stepped in the room a few hours ago. 

Danny sits up and raises an eyebrow.

“My breathing?” he asks and Bruce snorts. 

“It doesn’t need a Detective to notice that you suddenly started breathing again although you didn’t while you were asleep.”

Danny huffs out a breath — that tell is the only reason why Danny can never deceive the man. 

“I didn’t want to interrupt your conversation,” Danny says as he leans against the man.

Bruce frowns as he tucks Danny into his side.

“Have they-”

“They all have been very accepting and lovely Bruce,” Danny interrupts. “You have good kids. I just feel bad that I have been monopolizing their attention. After all, you are their father even if some of them try to deny it.”

“You are now too,” Bruce says, surprising Danny, “if you want.”

Danny smiles as he answers, “I know. But that’s up to them.”

“I don’t think there’s anyone who can refuse you.”

Danny snorts.

“You are just biased, darling.”

Bruce shrugs, expression content. 

“Guilty as charged.”

Danny laughs as he shakes his head. 

Yeah, they’ll be fine — no matter what others might think about them. (And if he has to kill a Clown for that to happen, he will gladly do so.)

[amogus-real-not-clickbait]

part 1 of a little comic / art sequence that i've been working on! :D it's part tribute, part experimenting with brushes n colors and trying new thingz :]

| 1 | 2 | 3 | ... |

and thus continues my endless quest of spreading the carrot fics like a plague! if you've seen my art floating around you probs already figured that this au holds a very special place in my heart, forever and always!!

if you haven't heard of it, it's a fic series by @crowned-ladybug called carrot soup!! it made me wish i could speak colors and i need more people to share my struggle xd

go check it out if you're into sweet voice lore and qpr level gayness and just wanna feel warm and soft and warm (hurt/comfort my beloved) <333 there are some heavier themes cos everyone's traumatized but they're working through it! be sure to check the tags and stay safe! <3

[o3o-lapd-o3o]

here is the second poseidon 'snippet'. this takes place after this part! hope you guys enjoy a little look into poseidon's home life...

first snippet here!

there's a masterlist now!

*not long after poseidon had received telemachus’ gift and said good night to everyone*

poseidon: *making his way through the ithacan palace’s halls to the entrance for the gardens*

poseidon: *holds a hand to where the gift is kept in his chiton and thinks back to all of telemachus' questions and interest in him* 

poseidon: *internally to himself* hmm i wonder what he would have thought, if he knew his father’s and mine’s true relationship-

odysseus: *calling from behind poseidon* poseidon!

poseidon: *jumps a little because he didn’t hear odysseus approaching*

poseidon: *puts his hand down and turns to face odysseus*

poseidon: odysseus…i’ve been gone only moments, what have i possibly done?

odysseus: nothing-

poseidon: *hand on his hip* what do you want then? 

poseidon: *pinches his nose bridge with his free hand*  please don’t say another dinner

odysseus: what- no!- *coughs*  

odysseus: trust me there will be no family dinners for a while…

odysseus: *under his breath* sitting for hours next to you was enough ruthlessness for one evening

poseidon: *dropping his hand from his face* what was that?

odysseus: i said what i said

poseidon: *rolls his eyes* well next time, maybe don’t let my niece get involved

odysseus: *grinning* oh so you want a next time then?

poseidon: *hand drops from hip and slightly panicking* THAT’S NOT- I MEAN-

odysseus: *tucks hair behind his ear* 

odysseus: oh poseidon, as good as that sounds….

odysseus: *now has his arms crossed over his chest* 

odysseus: *facade drops* …no thanks.

poseidon: *sigh of relief* 

poseidon: just- just tell me why you’re here

odysseus: *still in little shit mode* i mean this is my palace, i do live here

poseidon: *about to start pulling out his own hair in frustration* 

poseidon: odysseus…please

odysseus: *grin returns* yes, yes, go on, since you’ve already proven you’re so good at begging…

poseidon: *scowls* 

odysseus: *grin finally leaves his face and his arms return to his sides*

odysseus: ok look… i just thought, considering i was the host for this evening, i would follow xenia and escort you back to the cove…

poseidon: *sighs*

poseidon: *shakes his hand in front of him in a ‘no worries’ motion*

poseidon: no need… i’m able to make my own way back home

odysseus: are you sure? i mean they are your brother’s rules…

odysseus: *not really wanting to ever see zeus again after his last experiences*

poseidon: *dropping his hand and snorting out a laugh* i’ll make sure my brother doesn’t bother anyone about the lack of normal hospitality tonight

poseidon: *turning back around to leave* go back to your family odysseus

odysseus: *not to look a gift horse in the mouth* uh sure

odysseus: *about to turn and make his way back to the dining hall*

poseidon: *from over his shoulder* oh and odysseus?

odysseus: uh yeah?

poseidon: …don’t go easy on my niece

poseidon: remember… ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves

odysseus: *rolls his eyes and while he now knows that phrase isn’t true now….he decides to humor poseidon* 

odysseus: wasn’t planning on it.

*both leave in opposite directions*

*a short while later in poseidon’s palace*

poseidon: *walking into the bedroom* wife i’m back

*no response or movement*

poseidon: *raised eyebrow as he thought she’d be home* amphitrite?

*still nothing*

poseidon: *sighs* i guess she made last minute plans for tonight

poseidon: *goes to get changed when he remembers about his gift*

poseidon: *takes the gift out of his chiton, unwraps it and looks at it again*

poseidon: *remember telemachus' smile from the happiness of him accepting it*

poseidon: *huffs a laugh at the fact that odysseus produced a son that may look identical to him, but completely different in personality* 

amphitrite: what’s got you laughing? what do you have there?

poseidon: *quickly shoves the gift back in his chiton, and turns to face his wife*

poseidon: *dodging her question* i thought you weren't here… you didn’t respond to my calls

amphitrite: i was just checking on fysallída, he hadn’t been his usual self tonight.

poseidon: *eyes widen in worry* 

poseidon: what do you mean? he was fine earlier! is he sick? should i call apollo?

amphitrite: *smiles at poseidon’s worried rambling* 

amphitrite: *moves closer to poseidon and brushes her hand through his hair in comfort*

amphitrite: and he still is fine my love. i think he just missed you tonight.

amphitrite: also while our nephew may be able to help some animals… i don’t think sea creatures fall under his ability

amphitrite: besides, he was playing with pelagos and kýma 

poseidon: *the worry leaves his eyes* if you say so... i’ll just check on him before we go to sleep.

amphitrite: *hand leaves poseidon’s hair, and now joins her other one in crossing over her chest*

amphitrite: now, back to my original question…. what do you have there that had you laughing?

poseidon: *was hoping she’d forget* uh… uhh…

poseidon: …moly?

amphitrite: *raised eyebrow* 

amphitrite: the king of ithaca- odysseus gave you…moly? 

poseidon: *furrowed brows at the thought of odysseus giving him a gift*

poseidon: this isn't from odysse- *coughs* i mean- no… he didn't 

poseidon: it's… from his son.

amphitrite: *now has both her eyebrows raised in disbelief* 

amphitrite: the prince of ithaca, gave you moly.

poseidon: *now panicking as he's the god of the seas, not of lies* 

poseidon: well if you didn’t know…they're descended from hermes… 

poseidon: and he practically hands out this stuff… the prince probably didn’t know what it truly was.

amphitrite: *staring at the clear not moly shaped item, hidden in her husband’s chiton*

amphitrite: *deciding to leave it be for now* uh huh, whatever you say husband

*poseidon leaves the bedroom and heads to the palace reef gardens where amphitrite had not long come from*

*sensing the gods approach, bioluminescent corals light the area like oil lamps would on land*

poseidon: *staring out into the reef* hmm where is he?

poseidon: *makes a whistling noise like a dolphin’s echolocation*

*two whinny’ing noises are heard, then seconds later two hippocampi appear and are hurriedly making their way to poseidon*

poseidon: *strokes the both of them on their faces* yes, yes i'm home… where’s fysallída?

poseidon: *suddenly feels something small, bump repeatedly into him from behind and hears tiny grunting sounds*

poseidon: *snorts in laughter and turns around*

*the tiny grunting noises get louder and quicker in excitement, the small sea creature that has been bumping into poseidon is none other than…a small yellow pufferfish*

poseidon: *placing his hand out for fysallída to settle into* hello little one, i heard you caused amphitrite some worry earlier

*fysallída puffs out a little bit and then wiggles more into poseidon’s hand still making tiny noises*

poseidon: ah! none of that…i said i was going to be gone this evening

poseidon: besides, i can’t always be home, i do have godly things to do i'm sorry to say

*pelagos and kýma both whinny at poseidon’s back*

poseidon: *turning around with fysallída still in his hand* and we can’t forget, you have these two to keep you company

poseidon: now, i’ve had a long and tiring evening, so i’m going to retire for the night. 

*the pufferfish gives a final wiggle and swims out of his hand and then settles in between the two hippocampi*

poseidon: ok, you can all go back to whatever you three were doing-

*the three sea creatures all start to turn to leave*

poseidon: *putting one hand on his hip and raising the other to point at all of them, like he’s talking to children rather than sea creatures* 

poseidon: but! try not to get into too much trouble, yes fysallída i am talking to you mostly

*almost ignoring poseidon, they all quickly swim back in the original distance they came from*

poseidon: i swear to zeus, if i wake up to an angry nymph at my palace doors again…

*poseidon claps his hands and the bioluminescent corals dim in response, leaving the reef in darkness again. he then turns to go back inside his palace, and finally head to sleep for the night*

[quadrantadvisor]

Multiverse, Reverse Robins au, 2,514 words

-

Jason (Red Hood)

The imposters are good, Jason will give them that.

They need to work on their looks, unfortunately, because each one of them is a little off. Their Nightwing is too bulky, and his costume isn't made with Dick's flexibility in mind. Besides that, he's got an undercut that doesn't match the shaggy way Dick has his hair now, and his blue is too dark. And the swords. Those are different.

Their little Robin looks more like Dick, actually, Dick as he was before Jason's time, with his happy grin and his bright yellow cape. He doesn't match Damian's style at all, and Jason wonders if their intel was out of date. He tucks away his anger (the way he's used to doing, now) at these bastards roping some little kid into whatever con they're trying to pull. They can help the kid after they subdue him, and he stops trying to flip-kick people in the face.

The Red Robin outfit isn't bad, but the guy playing him is way too tall to be Tim. He doesn't use a bo staff, either, clearly preferring the armory of sharp little implements he keeps tucked away in his utility belt, including a wicked looking combat knife.

Which brings Jason to the current pain in his ass, the idiot trying to pass himself off as the Red Hood.

Yeah, they'd split off into pairs to fight. First off, for practicality's sake. Less risk of friendly fire if the only guy you're trying to punch is the one who isn't you. And secondly, it's just what you do, isn't it? Somebody gives you a set up like this, you go along with the poetic justice. No bat is immune to drama.

Jason is regretting that a bit, now. Fake Hood had taken him for a ride, leading him, he now realizes, far away from the warehouse where Nightwing and Robin had initially called in the disturbance. This other guy isn't the powerhouse that Jason is, but that doesn’t matter if Jason can't ever get in a hit. His movements are precise, deadly, and familiar in a way that makes Jason suspect League training. Jason is keeping up, but barely, and that's with the advantage of his guns. The other guy hasn't touched his, still gleaming red in his holsters, and Jason has a sneaking suspicion that they aren't filled with rubber bullets.

They're at a bit of a stalemate, standing on opposite sides of a dark rooftop, and Jason's trying to catch his breath but he can't relax, not when his gaze is locked onto his opponent, waiting for the minute twitch of muscle that will indicate his next move. He's wondering if he could get a shot off, wondering where to aim, when his comm crackles to life.

“Stand down!” Tim snaps in his ear. “Hood, Wing, the alternates aren't currently a threat. Deescalate however you can, and get back to the warehouse. We can explain this whole mess there.”

“Really?” Nightwing asks. He goes on to say something else, something about his doppleganger being incredibly threatening, thank you very much, but Jason stops listening, because there's something going on across the roof.

A mechanically distorted voice says, “What? No, I'd be able to tell. This guy isn't-” The imposter(?) cuts off suddenly, presumably listening to a response.

And then he… giggles.

“That isn't funny, Red,” he says, in contrast to the little peals of laughter making him subtly shake. “You- you get how fucked up that would be, don't you?”

Jason can't figure out what to do. Tim's intel is almost always good, but he can't get himself to stand down, not when, for some reason, that laughter is setting his teeth on fucking edge.

(He knows the reason. He'd know that cadence anywhere, he hears it in his fucking nightmares, but it isnt possible. He's in Arkham, right now, because Batman won't kill him and Jason isn't allowed to kill him and that uncomfortable truce is what got him his family back. Jason would know if he'd broken out, they wouldn't have kept that from him. They wouldn't.)

“Oh shit,��� Tim says, and it makes Jason wonder how he knows, “Hood, is your alternate having some kind of fit right now?”

The sound escalates, from breathy little giggles to screeching laughter, and even with the hood's distortion, it's unmistakable.

It's the Joker's laugh.

It's the Joker.

And isn't this exactly some shit that Joker would pull, making a mockery of Jason's family, a twisted parody that fucks with his head? Tim's lying, he's trying to get Jason out of this situation, and Jason gets why, he does, but obviously the rest of them can't (won't) protect him from this, so if he has to take fate into his own hands, he will.

The green is creeping up, but Jason doesn't let it haze over his vision because he has to be in his right mind while he does this, not for them, for himself. As he stalks across the roof, he empties the clip from one of his guns and pulls out the live rounds, loads them into place.

He thinks Tim is calling for him, maybe the others, too, but the chatter over the comm is getting further away the closer he gets to his target. He should be smart, should take the shot, but maybe he's got more pit in his head than he wants to admit, because Joker, still laughing, pulls a knife, and Jason steps into his range to disarm him.

The strike is fast, but compared to the careful movements of before, he's practically telegraphing his actions. Jason sidesteps, and if the blade knicks him when he twists Joker's arm, he doesn't feel it. He's got the clown in a hold, now, and forces him to his knees with the gun against his temple.

If the hood is anything like his own, the bullet won't do it, not even at point blank range. Jason would like to get it off him, would like to see the life leave his eyes, but he doesn't have to. Jason moves the barrel beneath his chin, right where the armor ends. The pit rages inside of him, says this is too easy, says to make him suffer. Jason pushes it down. This is the compromise he'll make, this is what he'll do to try to maintain both his humanity and his peace of mind. The bullet will ricochet off the hood from the inside, will tear through Joker's brain at least twice, and he'll never come back from that, and Jason will finally be free.

It'll be easy.

This is too easy.

“Nothing to fucking say?” Jason growls, jostling the clown in his grip, because there's always some joke, some shitty twist.

The Joker just laughs.

“Unhand him this instant!” someone snaps, and Jason's finger twitches but somehow the trigger stays still. And now what's he supposed to do, because of course fucking Nightwing- but wait, that isn't- but it is, he's right there- it's both of them, two Nightwings. Fucking fantastic. Twice the guilt trip.

“Come on, Jay,” the Nightwing who's actually Dick pleads, and hey, what the fuck, codenames? In front of the fucking Joker, Dick? “Let him go, we can explain everything.”

“I'm not doing this again!” rips itself from Jason's throat, and he'll think later about just how wrecked he sounds. “I'm not just standing here and letting him go, Wing, not when one bullet can put a stop to all this, not when I can end him.”

“Jason,” Dick says, slow with forced calm, “that's not the Joker.”

“Don't you fucking lie to me!” Jason seethes.

His hand is wrenched to the side, the barrel facing open air, and before he can make a move the unfortunately familiar feeling of a high voltage shock courses through him.

By the time he's stopped seizing, Dick is at his back, supporting him with his own body and with arms under his pits and around his chest in a weird reverse hug. Technically, Jason's hands are free, but they're empty, the gun skidded to somewhere else across the roof.

Dick is murmuring into his ear, “Sorry, Little Wing, I'm so sorry,” and, “You're okay, you're okay, you're okay,” mantras meant to soothe his brother as much as himself. Jason wants to be angry, wants to snap at him to let go and fucking cut it out, but he's feeling strangely disoriented. He only has enough brainspace to pay attention to one thing, and that's the scene playing out in front of him.

Dick had clearly hauled them back a few steps, but Jason is still uncomfortably close to the bastard version of Nightwing (who, Jason realizes in hindsight, had tazed him while he'd been distracted by his brother, not cool) and the laughing maniac he should've killed. Nightwing is holding onto Joker's shoulders, his hands bouncing as the gasping, shrieking laughter continues.

“I'm going to remove your helmet now,” Nightwing says. He has a slight accent that Jason knows he's heard before, and his tone is professional, almost clipped. And yet, somehow, Jason can tell that this is a gentled version of the man's voice, the sharpest edges sanded away. His hands move from Joker's shoulders to the back of his head, carefully inputting whatever sequence allows for safe removal of the hood. Jason hears a hydraulic hiss when some sort of catch releases, and as Nightwing starts pulling the red metal up and away Jason can't help holding his breath.

At first, he sees what he expected to see. It's the Joker's expression, after all, his laughing face pulled into a rictus grin.

But the grin isn't right, somehow. The man is pale, but his face is unpainted, and the smile stretches wide, too wide, wider than even the Joker ever managed, and after a moment Jason recognizes the red, raised scar tissue on either side of his mouth for what it is.

Then, Jason takes in the actual features of the person in front of him. Dark hair, pale blue eyes, the cheeks, the jaw, the nose.

It doesn't make any fucking sense.

The Red Hood, collapsed on his knees in front of him, scarred face bare with no hood or domino to protect him as he struggles under the weight of his own laughter, is Tim Drake.

He's crying.

Jason is suddenly glad that Dick's holding him, because he's certain that he'd be on the ground, otherwise. Then, he realizes that he can't breathe.

Jason knows, logically, that his hood has sensors and filters that keep him safer than he could ever be without it. It is only every once in a while, when something stupid happens, that he regrets that he, a man with claustrophobia, decided to stick his head into a metal bucket.

Dick can probably tell that he's hyperventilating, and doesn't fight him as Jason gets his hands on the back of his neck and pulls off his hood.

Jason gasps in polluted Gotham air, and Tim's eyes snap onto him. Nightwing says, “I'm administering the emergency dose of your medication,” and then stalls, like he's waiting for a response, but all Tim does is laugh and stare. Jason stares back. He can't look away.

Nightwing retrieves a small tubular device, almost like an epipen, and presses it against Tim's leg. That shouldn't work. Tim's wearing body armor, same as the rest of them, and there's no way a needle could pierce it, but Jason looks as Nightwing draws the device away and there's a small raised circle of hard plastic on Tim's thigh that the head of the device fits into perfectly, like it was designed for that purpose. An injection spot, built into Tim's clothing, specifically for whatever drugs fake Nightwing just pumped into him.

Immediately, there's a difference. He doesn't stop laughing, or smiling that horrible fucking smile, but the manic tension is gone. He doesn't look like he'll shatter at a touch anymore, too brittle to be handled. The curve of his spine gentles, muscles no longer pulling it to the point of snapping. Jason watches as slowly, oh so slowly, Tim gets quieter, leans more into Nightwing's hold on him, starts gasping more than laughing.

Dick is talking behind him, into his comm, it sounds like. If it's important, someone will get his attention.

Finally, Tim breaks eye contact. “T- tell him,” he says to Nightwing, struggling between gasps and giggles, “tell him what you, gave me. Jay doesn't, he doesn't like, needles.”

The strange Nightwing turns his head, and Jason gets the impression of a sharp, searching gaze behind his domino. He's nothing like Dick, not at all, but something niggles the back of Jason's mind, some sense of familiarity regardless. He tosses something, and Jason automatically reaches up to catch it.

It's the empty tube of medication, which does seem a lot like an epipen, up close. “It's a combination,” the man says. “The antidote for Joker venom, an antipsychotic, and a mild sedative.”

“What the fuck?” Jason hears from his own mouth as he looks down at the innocuous little tube.

“It's only used in emergencies,” Nightwing adds, and does not clarify any further.

Jason doesn't know what to say to that. He shakes himself out of Dick's hold and grabs an evidence bag out of his jacket. He watches Nightwing, to see if he'll object, but he doesn't. Jason slips the medicine tube inside the bag and tucks it away.

“There you are!” Dick says in a bright tone, one meant to cover his anxiety and relief.

Jason turns, and finds that their roof has gotten a little crowded. All four Robins have arrived, his brothers mingled in with their copies, copies who don't quite match in ways that are now sticking in his brain. Tim, Jason's Tim, is standing right there, pressing his mask against his face like he'd broken the seal on the adhesive, and it isn't sticking quite right. Other than that, he's normal. He's fine.

The Robin, the one in the classic colors who Jason had thought looked a bit like Dick (oh God, could that be-?) gives a little whistle. “Trust Red Hood to cause drama!” he says in a bright tone that is too too familiar (fuck, fuck he is). “Must be a universal constant.” He grins, cheeky, looking past Jason.

Jason isn't processing fast enough to be offended for his own sake, but he turns and checks on Tim, other Tim, the Tim who apparently also has a claim to the Red Hood name. Tim is propped up on Nightwing's shoulder, looking drowsy and relaxed. He's looking back at Robin, and his lips are pressed tightly closed, but he's smiling, and it reaches his eyes.

Alright, then. This is probably fine.

Jason snorts, to get the kid's attention, and rolls his eyes. “Comes with the job description,” he snarks.

The kid lights up. Jason feels distinctly weird, having that smile directed at him, but it's not… bad.

Yeah. This is fine.

-

I'm planning to add a reblog with more information on this au/fic idea, so if you're interested, watch this space.

[royalarchivist]

Tubbo: Yeah no– yesterday I met Roier and Missa for the first time, which was really really freaking cool. Me and Badboyhalo were walking 'round the floor, and Bad got a notification of like– [Briefly interrupted by his father] –with like, Roier taking a photo with like a viewer, and Badboyhalo was like "He is here!" 'Cuz on Insta– [An off-screen "hello" distracts him from the rest of the story] Yes?

[loreandletters]

WarTrophy!Sokka snippet...

tysm! 12yr lore would have loved to read this lmao and yeah, Zuko def deserved that hit, what was he thinking saying all that? (also apologies if i didn't reblog this right? haven't been on tumblr that long)

Speaking of snippets, I have been finding all these little scenes littered through out my old docs. (i feel like an archaeologist rn) I didn't think about posting it until I read ur tags lol thanks for the idea!

Warning, some of the writing had a few months in between (I think this was around the time I got super sick) so there'll be difference in quality. lol I'm really enjoying all this tbh, very nostalgic for me :)

(fic in question)(this comes right off the 2nd chapter lol)

-

Sokka woke up in pain and decided that it was a good enough excuse to start brooding up a storm.

A traitor. Him? Was their defeat so inconceivable that Zuko had gotten amnesia? (totally possible by the way, Zuko was dramatic enough for it) It’s not like Sokka hadn’t spent, oh, nearly ten years trying to prove otherwise. Honestly, aside from the color of his eyes, what about him screamed Water Tribe? 

Sokka couldn’t stand the cold. He loved the smell of a fresh fire, and yeah he complained, but sometimes he was more faithful to Agni’s rites than Zuko was. When the chill came at night, he made sure to wear double layers, and when they re-entered warmer waters, he breathed a sigh of relief. He can’t remember a time when he didn’t like spicy food, he embraced their festivals (even the one that celebrated the fall of the Airbenders), and wearing anything other than red felt wrong. To put it simply: everything about Sokka was Fire Nation, down to the lingo, down to the bone. Just not the eyes.

And his family? His parents were a faded memory. Yes, he hadn’t wanted to leave (what did they expect, raids and children didn’t exactly mix well!), but obviously that wasn’t still true. He had plenty of chances to run back ‘home,’ but he never did. 

The more he thought about it the angrier he got.

He’d followed his prince in his banishment, sworn fealty to the royal family, and accepted all the burdens that came with it. If he were born with golden eyes, people would be envious of him. No one would even think to call him a dog or a savage - he would just be Sokka. Not even that! His name would be different, less strange and so obviously foreign.

Damn you, Lady Ursa. Lu Ten. Sokka thought viciously, hot tears pricking at the corners of his eyes. If only you had just let me die back then.

That had to be easier, right? His heart was burning with the anger, but underneath it bubbled a sickening kind of grief. His chest hurt, like a knife twisting round and round and round. Almost ten years of loyalty, and what did he get but Zuko screaming all of his insecurities to his face?

Azula was right. Sokka was way too stubborn for his own good. Even now, he didn’t know if he was more upset with the prince or the fact Zuko might just kick him off the crew all together. Where would he even go? Sokka didn’t want to leave - he wanted another chance. He wanted to see Zuko home like he swore. (he wanted to go home too. The Fire Nation may have taken from him, but it had given him so much more in return)

Sokka scrubbed at his face, drawing deep, steading breaths so as to try and kill the sob building in his chest. Zuko was so lucky, he was so fuckin’ lucky that Sokka loved him this much. He was lucky that his mom had saved Sokka, ripped his chest open and tricked him into caring for her kids. And that Lu Ten had instilled such a deep love for the Fire Nation, that Sokka never even thought twice about returning ‘home.’ war

If they hadn’t, then Sokka would have left Caldera the night Ursa died and never looked back.

[awyeahitssam]

I can ask Dumbledore if you like, he penned, the smirk tilting his lips at odds with the seemingly innocent words. He knows loads of magic.

Riddle’s response appeared quickly, slightly crooked in its haste.

No, he wrote. There’s no need to disturb a professor with this. I’m certain your assistance will be more than enough.

Harry chuckled lightly, pushing a hand to his lips in surprise at the sound. He knew he shouldn’t be playing with Riddle like this, but the opportunity was simply too good to resist. Besides, winding him up when he was in such a helpless state appealed to something in Harry, something made helpless and powerless by the man this boy would one day become.

The diary couldn't possess him, he reasoned. What was the worst that could happen?

The worst that could happen, Harry discovered, was becoming attached. Tom was clever and rude and charming all at once. And while his snide remarks were hardly noticable if you weren’t paying very close attention, Harry had practice telling when he was being mocked. He had grown up with the Dursley’s, after all.

[lodessa]

“I’m serious,” he insists.

“I know,” she nods, snuggling closer into his side. “Although, I’ll admit it’s a little hard to take anything you say terribly seriously with that ridiculous thing on your face.

She reaches out and traces the absurd mirror fashion goatee he’s still sporting, having been in more of a hurry to be alone here with Kathryn than to banish it and return to the smooth shaven version of himself that belongs here with her.

“You know, everything I have ever read about the mirrorverse says that love can’t exist there, that even the more passionate of lovers are ready to turn on each other at the drop of a hat. But that’s not what I saw in their eyes,” he pauses, “That version of us, they were still an unbreakable unit. I was able to convince them because they had faith in each other.”

“And just what do you think that means?” Kathryn asks.

“You and me, we’re the real deal. Everyone thinks their love is the one that spans across timelines, but we do. It means that when I thought I’d never see you again and I tried to take comfort in the idea that countless other Kathryns and Chakotays had found a way to stay together I was not wrong.”

It hadn’t worked, but that’s not the point. The point is his faith in her, in them.

“Be that as it may, I’m glad to have you back in this reality.”

“So am I,” he has to agree heartily, “So am I.”

(the rest here)

[plusultraetc]

Fourteen Days of MHA | 7/14: First Impressions, Just One Bad Day

Shouta’s first impression of Yamada is that he’s loud.

He’d thought Shirakumo, who deposits their classmate in the seat across from him in the cafeteria and scurries away with a cry of Shouta, this is Hizashi, be friends! was bad, but Yamada’s YO! is loud enough that several people at nearby tables turn their heads to look.

“It’s Aizawa, right?” he says, still too loud, leaning across the table. At least he doesn’t assume familiarity just because Shirakumo introduced him by his given name. “I’m Yamada Hizashi. I’m in your class, but I sit waaay in the back, so you might not remember—”

Shouta does remember. Yamada has very distinctive hair, and Shouta had thought he was loud in the classroom, too. He might sit near the back, but their homeroom is definitely not big enough that he has to yell during attendance to be heard.

Yamada is undeterred by Shouta’s continuing silence as he launches into what, for all intents and purposes, is an opening monologue of relevant information. Every so often, he pauses like he’s waiting for Shouta to cut in, which of course he doesn’t, so Yamada forges ahead, gesturing with his chopsticks in hand but never quite managing to pause long enough to actually eat anything.

Shouta has to appreciate the logic of having an introductory speech prepared. Maybe he should do the same, so he doesn’t have to sit in awkward silence at times like this. At least times like this are few and far between.

You can only have so many first days of school in your life. One day he’ll graduate and never have to introduce himself to a new class again.

[shannonsketches]

chinhands my semi-angsty headcanon is that Vegeta and Bulma talked that same night he was resurrected about what Piccolo told Geets re: Him being reincarnated and how he will only exist temporarily in the afterlife, but he never told Goku about it, so Goku 100% still thinks when Vegeta dies he'll be around forever in Special Hell like Frieza or the rest of his friends who got to go see King Kai and they'll get to play in the afterlife whenever they want

Vegeta and Bulma half-argue about it sometimes because it's scary and it hurts to think about and Vegeta genuinely does believe the people he's harmed irreversibly deserve justice in the way of his final judgement but Bulma doesn't understand how reincarnation is any different from what he's already experienced after being killed by Frieza and waking up having to get accustomed to a completely different life that challenged him in every possible way and Vegeta thinks he's too happy for it to count as punishment and Bulma argues the point of being reincarnated is to have the chance to live a better life so what is the goddamn difference and she WILL be beating him to the afterlife since her human lifespan is shorter and she WILL be taking her complaints directly to Yenma this is a threat she is going to make out with her husband in heathen hell for eternity, thank you very much!!

They haven't told the kids or Goku because the kids don't need to worry about that kind of thing and Vegeta is absolutely convinced that if Goku finds out he's gonna go fucking around until he gets his way because Goku does not cope well with things he can't change or make better and he's worried somehow the entire universe will be put into crisis mode by Goku trying to pull some celestial strings on his behalf and it's just easier to not mention it at all ever for any reason

[yasmeensh]

Paleolithic Media Catalogue

Hello everyone :) Short story first: When I began brainstorming for my prehistoric story, I started wondering what other prehistoric fiction there is out there. I was not familiar with it and have not seen much. That's when I started my grand literature review and began a search for what fiction exist out there. I wanted to know what kinds of stories are being made with this time period. What are the common themes or recurring ideas (I found lots of humans and dinosaurs works. And time travel). Since I've had a growing collection on my computer, I decided I should keep on enlarging it and put it online. It's nowhere near complete. I'll slowly keep accumulating the collection as I find more. I only have fiction books and comics right now. I still need to work on the film section.

You can access the blog here!

***

As for where I am in my reading, the one's I've finished reading are Earth's Children series (book 1-4. Dropped it afterwards lol. I made a post on with fanart) Dance of the Tiger and it's sequel Singletusk (They were good! I'll upload my review on the blog), and Sisters of the Wolf (It was ok!). I got my hands on The Inheritors and excited to start reading it. I REALLY want to read the Shiva trilogy, but I found no PDF online... and it's out of print :( There is certainly old copies on ebay. And I want to read Chronicles of Ancient Darkness. There seem to be lots of good books out there.

[avirael]

Sparing you the direct side by side comparison here but I really think Nhagi’ra has a bit of Flynn Rider energy, as in he’s a charming but kind idiot. Maybe a little more silly/clumsy than Flynn 🤭

Imagine him just walking by and seeing a woman attacked by some monster. Of course he heroically rushes to her help just that he slips/trips, falls down down a ravine or something and breaks his leg.

Meanwhile said woman (who can absolutely save herself) chases away the monster on her own and finds him stuck and whining.

Still he immediately puts on his most self-assured, charming face to impress her, which pathetically fails of course.

I Imagine it goes like this:

“Can you walk?”

“Of course I ca- Aaaah! - No! No, I can’t…”

“Alright, let me help you…”