#so him dying isnt a surprise at all

[clowningclownn]

a lot of people hate gege for killing gojo and want him to bring him back to life (somehow) but something i want everyone to understand is that gojo was happy to die

hes probably been waiting around for death since at least killing geto (might be even before that with the whole thing with toji) and someone else killing him was what he wanted.

obviously he wasnt going to kill himself, but he was ready and willing to accept his death. he wanted to see everyone he once knew again and was happy when he did

he is finally free

[marsixm]

big spoiler cw for the finale- i understand why a lot of people didnt feel like it made sense for how ed was acting during izzy’s death scene, like it didn’t feel earned or whatever bc they’d been at odds w each other since last season, but for me, and understand i’m not saying my personal experience making it make sense for me is trying to give undue writing cred or whatever, but i had a very difficult relationship with my very transphobic/bigoted mother. she made my life a nightmare a lot of the time. but i had to care for her in death. i had to watch her die for months. it was a waking nightmare, and it had a profound effect on me. it was complicated. it made my relationship to my memory of her very complicated. (and even if it hadnt been a months long ordeal i was caught in the middle of i’d probably still feel similarly) and that’s how ed dealing with izzy’s death feels to me. just like him having to kill his father, it was the right thing to do, but it still left him with difficult emotions. when ed says “you’re the only family i’ve got left” to izzy, after all the bullshit they put each other through, i get it.

[starry-bi-sky]

sO i got to part two of the daniel jason todd fenton au :)

>:) word count 8k+

So, first, taglist for folks who asked for it: @blep-23 @mikyapixie @isnt-that-grape @randomenglishmajor @illryiannightmare @the-navistar-carol

SECOND: this part needs a trigger/content warning list: - CW Mild Swearing - CW Slight Psychological Horror - ^ CW mild depictions of being haunted by your own ghost/death flag and not realizing it (other people do though) - CW Brief Emetophobia (Danny throws up during a second nightmare) - CW Danny has nightmares of dying - except its of Jason Todd's warehouse death. It's not explicit but it's implied - TW Mild mentions of perceived Blood - TW Depictions of Corpses (first is non-descript, and then second one is slightly more descript but its not anything uh, super descriptive) - TW Mild description of burns (the descriptive part above) - TW Depictions of Panic Attacks (Danny's nightmares)

I mentioned that this au was inspired by a song lyric from Jann's 'Gladiator' here is that line:

I know your addiction's attention, Let's start a show Is it everything and more than you were hoping for? Show us something we ain't never seen before

The day after Danny meets himself, he's downstairs having breakfast in the dining room with the rest of the family, listening idly in on their conversations. Tim Drake is talking about something about Wayne Industries with Mr. Wayne - and wasn't that a startling surprise to learn the first time? - and Damian was slyly trying to feed Ace under the table. Duke Thomas was mid conversation with Cass, much of it audibly one-sided as Cass swaps between ASL and verbal speech.

(Danny comes across her a fair few amount of times in Wayne Manor. The first time was in the library. She hands him a book about planets, smiles, and walks away.)

(He hasn't talked much to Duke Thomas yet, but he plans to - he seems cool. They just haven't had the time to run into each other yet. Danny might just have to corner him, he thinks.)

And finally Dick Grayson on his left, his Dick Grayson, was talking away with the other Dick Grayson - who had stopped by from Bludhaven for the morning for his day off. He was a cop, ew. They were comparing lives, specifically college lives. There wasn’t much to talk about in their childhood, it seems. Danny was quietly listening in. 

(They both gave their Bruces headaches as children, apparently. Climbing the chandeliers and sliding down the staircase banisters. Flips and tricks only a child raised by the circus could do.) 

All-in-all, a very quiet morning, Danny thinks. That is, until the other Dick Grayson turns to him and goes; "I'm sure you've been asked already, but what do your parents do, Mini Jay?"

Danny squints at him, and releases his grip on his spoon to raise a pointed finger. "First off: only my Dick Grayson can call me Jay, you have your own." He says, slightly playful and nodding to Dick - oh that was going to get confusing, fast. He should come up with a nickname for one of them, probably - "And second: you're the second person to ask me that, actually. Jason - er, myself? - asked me yesterday. My parents are ectologists."

Apparently, mentioning that he met himself is a set of magic words, because the whole table stops what they're doing, and Danny's half-sinking back into his chair when all eyes turn to him in varying degrees of surprise. Dick - Richard, he’s going to call him Richard - looks at him with wide eyes and furrowed, confused brows. "You saw Jason?"

(Danny sends Bruce a confused look, but he's not paying attention - looking at everyone else with threaded eyebrows and a faint frown. Well, at least Danny isn't the only one confused by the reaction.)

(What a comfort.) 

"I guess that nickname is a dimensional constant." He mutters under his breath, and straightens up, eyeing the room warily. It... doesn't bode well to him that the Waynes were surprised by his other self's appearance -- was hisself estranged from the family?

...He hopes that doesn't happen in his world. Dick and Bruce may not be his adoptive family, but he likes them quite a lot. He wants to stay in contact with them when they get home.

"Yeah, he was in the library." He says, frowning at Richard Grayson. "He was sitting in my armchair." He supposes it was Jason's armchair first -- god, that was so weird to refer to himself in third person. "We talked for a little bit, and he asked me what my parents did. They're ectologists, by the way."

He turns to Mister Wayne and tilts his head, "Did you really not know that he was here?" He asks, narrowing his eyes. He wouldn't expect Richard to know, he doesn't live here. But Mister Wayne looks just as surprised, perhaps even a little remorseful.

(There’s a pit in his stomach that’s growing bigger.)

(His neck burns with a new pair of eyes, ones that he can’t see.) 

Mr. Wayne looks thoughtful for a moment, and then carefully, he goes; "Jason is rather... independent. He comes and goes from the manor when he feels like it." And the way he speaks sounds like he was choosing his words carefully. Danny suppresses the shiver of unease.

Something was not well in this house. Something unspoken was haunting the air. 

(Jason would know about hauntings, wouldn’t he?) 

He hopes history won't repeat itself, he likes Bruce quite a lot.

"...Alright," he says after a moment of silence, not hiding his wariness as he slowly turns back to Richard. His eyes flick towards Bruce, and then to Ricard. "Anyway, my parents are ectologists, as I've said for the third time now."

Richard, for his effort, takes the topic change easily, and his surprise shifts into one of curiosity - as does everyone else. (Did Danny really not mention what his parents did? Even Dick and Bruce look intrigued.) "That's... new." Richard says lightly, Danny commends him for the way he sounds non-judgmental. "What are ectologists?"

Danny quirks a dry half-smile, and deadpans; "Studiers of all things dead and afterlife."

...And there is that reaction again. A ripple of surprise and intrigue that spreads throughout the room as everyone looks at him, like a bunch of cats perking up their ears. 

On the other side of the table, Damian scoffs quietly, a sound much like the one Jason - the other one - did when Danny told him. Danny's eyes snap over to him in an instant, he stares at him, trying to study him. Why that reaction - again? 

He lets himself frown, briefly, before addressing Richard again. "Everyone just calls them ghost hunters, but the 'official' term is ectologists." He drawls, air-quoting the word 'official' with his fingers as he rolls his eyes. "They've been obsessed with ghosts since college. We even have a lab in the basement, and they keep liquid ectoplasm samples in the fridge."

Danny's been in the lab a handful of times, he and Jazz both have, either to clean it as part of their chores, or to listen to a lecture from their parents for their newest invention. The lab is cool, kinda, but Danny thinks it wouldn't look out of place in any evil lair of a Rogue with a doctorate. 

…He’s glad that the Fentons weren’t stationed in Gotham. They would have blown up a street. He’s surprised they haven’t already. 

"Ectoplasm?" Dick asks, leaning over to catch Danny's eye. Almost by instinct now Danny smiles at him, and then nods.

"Mom and dad say it's the stuff that makes ghosts." He explains, leaning back against his seat, his arms crossing. "It's invisible in its natural state, and it makes up everything. Kinda like the Force from Star Wars, or just, matter in general."

That cracks a few quiet, laugh-like sounds through the dining room. Danny halves a smile again, a swelling of pride in his chest that lingers for a moment. "My parents say that when ectoplasm condenses enough in one area, it can start taking on visible properties," he continues, "they say that ghosts are just the memories and emotions of a dying person or animal being imprinted on a concentration of ectoplasm, and that the ghost itself isn't actually the person or animal, just matter trying to mimic it."

Which Danny guesses makes sense, even if the way they talk about ghosts made him really uncomfortable. His parents insisted that ghosts weren't actually people, but he just couldn't shake the idea that they were. How close to ‘human’ does something get before they actually are? 

Well, no, that wasn’t fair. Superman wasn’t human, and yet everyone treated him like he was. Let him rephrase himself:

How human-like must something get before they are considered as such? Before they’re considered sapient and sentient, and real?  

"That's... quite interesting." Someone says, and Danny turns to see Bruce leaning his elbows against the table and putting his chin on threaded fingers. He looks genuinely engrossed in what Danny's said, and pride once again leaks into his heart. "You mentioned they kept ectoplasm in a liquified state in their... fridge?"

"Oh yeah," Danny says, putting his full attention to Bruce, "it's crazy. They keep little test tube racks in the freezer full of liquid ectoplasm, and it's this - uh - glowing, bright green stuff. It used to be the weirdest thing in the house."

(From his peripherals, Danny notices the room tense up again at his description — and he bites back the urge to slow his talking down and narrow his eyes. Suspicious. Suspicious. The Waynes weren’t scientists - why do they react to something like they are?)

(Nobody knows what ectoplasm is. To the scientific world, it's an unconfirmed theory of a state of matter. Why do the Waynes act like they know what it is?)

(Danny is not stupid. Even if his scientific family makes him feel like it, sometimes.) 

Bruce gives him this half-tilted, confused smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. "Used to be?"

Danny opens his mouth, the answer already on the tip of his tongue -- and then he freezes. His jaw clicks shut as he frowns. Should he say what his parents' latest pet project was? Surely, surely, it would be fine? Their inventions never work - and a life-sized portal is just another thing on his parents' crazy ideas list.

His teeth sink into his bottom lip, chewing on the skin as he rolls the answer over in his head. ...Surely, it would be fine. His face turns in hesitance, and his shoulders scrunch and twist to his ears, like he's about to admit something that could get him grounded by his parents.

"They... may, or may not, be building an inter-dimensional portal in the basement?" His voice steadily pitches upward nervously the longer he speaks. By the time he finishes, his voice is close to a squeaky pitch.

There is a horrified silence that follows him, sitting in the air so still-like that Danny could hear the whoosh of a pin drop. He should have expected that, nervously surveying the ranging horrified expressions on the Wayne family's faces. "...I promise they're harmless... to the living." He hesitates, "Mostly."

Bruce stares at him for a long moment. "Mostly?" He repeats, his brows arched high and pinched together. Danny cringes back a little.

"Dad's a little clumsy, that's all." He says, shrugging with a helpless smile. It doesn't help, he thinks, and the silence is strangling. Sitting up, he's a little frantic to add; "I really, really, doubt it's going to work, Bruce. Their inventions never do. Mom and dad built a mini portal in college and it didn't work either!" There's a moment of silence following him, before he quietly adds, wincing, "It- it did hospitalize the guy who was helping them, though."

He only heard about that when he asked his parents about the portal - it was still in production when they picked him up. Jack Fenton claimed it was safe as safe could be - they’d make sure that the ‘college’ instance never happened again.

Bruce - both Bruces actually - looked vaguely ill at the thought. Mister Wayne’s face was blank, his face sunk into his folded hands, and Bruce’s stare burned into Danny, intense like concentrated fire. 

Danny for some reason - either through his panicked urge to make things better, or through temporary insanity - laughs forcibly. "The worst thing that could happen is that the portal could explode, but that never happens."

Next to him, Dick makes a stressed sound. "That's not better, Jay." He forces out. He looks even more horrified.

Danny sucks on his bottom lip for a long beat. Then lets out a breath.

"Yeah, I know." Danny sighs, deep and long while his shoulders slump. He watches the room for a moment, with their various stony-like expressions, and looks back at the very concerned-looking Bruce. "But Bruce, I swear it's fine. Nothing's gonna happen, please don't call the Justice League on my parents. They really are harmless."

Bruce looks conflicted.

"I was being dramatic when I said the portal could explode, it won't." He continues, giving Bruce what Jazz has called his 'cheating puppy eyes'. "My parents are eccentric about their line of work, but they understand lab safety. They'd never do anything to put me and Jazz in danger."

...Actively or on purpose, that is.

He and Bruce stare each other down. One second, two seconds; what feels like thirty seconds pass in silence before Bruce relents, sighing deeply and uncannily dad-like. He drags a hand down his face, and rubs his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. "When we get back to our universe, you are giving me your phone number so you can contact me if anything happens."

Danny beams, nodding hurriedly. "Thank you, Buzz."

Bruce isn't able to hide his smile - small as it was - quickly enough. "You're welcome, Danny."

—-----

Danny has a nightmare that night. He doesn't remember most of it. There's a ticking sound, and high laughter, and there is a thumping heartbeat in his ears. Everything is dark and he is in agonizing pain.

He wakes up in paralyzing terror, a scream lodged in the back of his throat. His head pounds like a concussion and there is a shallowing ache in his ribs, like someone's kicked him, and kicked him, and kicked him until all air has been knocked from his lungs. He can't breathe.

Danny's hands scrabble for his throat, and even though he can hear himself gasping for air, it doesn't feel like he's taking any of it in. There is no relief in the action, no reassurance, and everything is so hot. He kicks at his blankets, his panic growing higher as they tangle around his legs.

He needs-

He needs--

He needs to move. He needs to get up. He needs to free himself. He needs to prove that he's not dying. He feels like he's dying. He feels like he's burning. There are tears swelling in his eyes as he finally gets the blankets off his feet, and he rolls - quite literally - out of bed.

He tries to catch himself, he does. But he doesn't. He hits the floor with a heavy thud and can hardly bring himself to care -- he catches himself on his elbows, and the sting it causes makes him feel worse. The air is knocked out of his chest again. 

The ground is cold though, blessedly cold. And before Danny can realize this, he lifts his head and, disoriented, looks for the door. It's too dark, it's too dark. His head swivels blindly in search of it. He needs to get out, he needs to escape. 

"Bruce." He croaks, still trying to force air down into his lungs. His call comes out raspy, weak, and hot tears blur his vision.

"Dick." He tries instead when a minute passes and no one comes, and he thinks he can finally start breathing. No one comes to find him - his voice is too quiet to wake anyone up. The tears in his eyes bubble and pop, and stream down his face.

He makes a distressed noise. "Jazz?" He whispers, his voice shaky and uneven with an encompassing want for his sister. It's nearly been a month since they got here. He wants Jazz.

No one hears him. He's alone.

God, he doesn't want to be alone. Please don't make him be alone.

Danny eventually gets himself calmed down. But he is curled up on the floor, trembling with the lingering traces of fear from whatever dream had woken up. His fingers dig painfully into his arms, leaving crescent-moon indents by his nails. The contents of the nightmare are already fading further into his mind, slipping out of his hands like water. Like ash.

He feels no need to chase after it.

The back of his shirt is damp with sweat, and in between the trembling he is also shivering, goosebumps lacing up his arms. His eyes have adjusted to the dark, and he stares with wide, crying eyes at the side of his bed. His breath comes out in short, shaky pants.

He doesn't know how long he lays there, trying to comprehend what happened as his mind still hangs onto the edge of the dreamworld. It feels like there is something in the room with him, crawling along the walls.

Danny forces himself to get up, and the sudden standing makes his vision blacken and swim as blood rushes to his head. He stumbles, slightly, and lurches halfway across the room for the light switch.

He squints as the room is drenched in light, chasing away the lingering paranoia in the back of his brain. He is still shaking. His head still hurts. He still looks, wide eyed, around the room for anything out of place.

There is none.

But he still feels unsafe. He needs- he needs to find someone, or go somewhere else. He grabs a firm pillow off the bed, and leaves.

(He ends up in the library alone. He turns on the lights and grabs a book Dick recommended to him, and he curls up tight in his armchair. He ends up falling asleep just as the sun is rising.)

(He doesn't tell anyone about the nightmare.)

-

Progress in getting the three of them back to their home dimension is slow. Dimension Hopping is a rare experience, and what update Bruce gets he relays back to Danny and Dick: they're trying to figure out a way to send them back safely, from the exact time they disappeared, and to find what dimension they're from. It's complicated magic.

It's been three weeks. 

Danny, for one, is getting homesick. He misses Jazz, Sam, and Tucker terribly, and his parents. Bruce and Dick are great, really, and Danny kinda wants to keep in touch with them after they return to their own world, but they aren't replacements of his sister and friends.

His nightmare from a few days ago still haunt his steps. He closes eyes, and that high-pitched laughter and blood-rushed pounding burns itself his ears and fills a level of unseen terror into his heart. Danny thinks that if he was hit with Scarecrow's fear gas, this is what it would feel like.

He tries to avoid falling asleep by reading in his room, by stargazing, but the place sets him on edge; an unsettling reminder of that nightmare. So he goes to the library when it gets too much, he's run into Bruce twice now doing it, and they both do reading.

Danny thinks Bruce can suspect something is up with him, but he doesn't want to tell him about that nightmare. Dick either, for that matter. He just wants to forget it.

They spend afternoons in the gym, they have it mostly to themselves - Tim Drake is at Wayne Industries, Damian Wayne is at school, so is Duke Thompson, and Cassandra Cain is... doing whatever she does during the day. Danny's not totally sure.

Dick in that time, tries showing Danny how to be more flexible. He says he's a fast learner, but Danny knows he's been slacking lately with his lack of sleep.

There isn't much they can do outside of the manor - Bruce and Dick can't go outside because they'll catch the attention of the paparazzi, and they are both significantly younger than their counterparts, and Danny isn't allowed out without a chaperone.

Which has its own unique set of problems because rumors could rapidly start if he's seen with any of the Waynes multiple times. The paparazzi aren’t dumb enough… okay, most — some — of them aren’t dumb enough to make a tabloid claiming there’s a new Wayne kid just because they see the Waynes interacting with one kid, one time. Multiple times however? That’s another story. And, he has the same issue as Bruce and Dick - he's a baby-faced Jason Todd. Who is Bruce Wayne's adoptive son in this world. He could be recognized. 

And how do you explain a tiny Jason Todd to a world where Jason Todd is a full grown man?

So all three of them are... stuck inside, so to speak. And making do with what they can. Danny spends most of his morning and early noon with Dick, and then they both separate after to have time to themselves before dinner.

Bruce is in one of the studies, doing... something. Danny's not sure and he keeps forgetting to ask.

--

Dick likes Danny - Jason? - Jay. Danny said that he can call him Jason, and he doesn't protest to being called Jay. 

Point is: he likes Jay. He's a delightful kid to be around; he's funny, and clever, even if he doesn't realize it himself. And Dick's a little upset that Jay isn't his brother in his world, he would've loved to have him around the manor. He probably would have visited more if he was around.

Something that he and Bruce were still slowly trying to fix...

He likes spending time with him - getting to teach him his acrobatic tricks was not something he expected, but he loves showing Jay how to do them. He thinks this is probably how Bruce felt when he was training Dick how to be Robin, all those years ago.

Speaking of which, Dick was still not over the Robin jacket that Jay wore. The origins of it weren't the best - Jay started wearing it to take back the insult the other kids at his school were throwing at him - but isn't that what part of what being Robin was about? 

Cheesy, he knows. But his point still stands.

He thinks that if he had to pass the Robin title down to anyone, it would be Daniel Jason Todd-Fenton. Or perhaps just Jason Fenton-Todd? Jay doesn’t seem all that attached to the name Danny. 

(“Mom and dad just started calling me it when they picked me up.” Danny — Jay shrugged when Dick asked him about it, the two of them swinging from bar to bar. “I wasn’t tellin’ ‘em my name at the time, so they gave me a new one.”) 

If he had met Jason before the Fentons had, Dick thinks maybe he would have adopted him instead. And what would that future look like? Would he have been able to, when he had to go to college and classes? Would he have been able to keep going out at night, and keep that secret to himself? 

He’ll never know, he supposes. 

“I think that’s it for today.” Dick says, swinging off the jungle gym and landing on the mats with a cat-like thump. Behind him, Jay groans, and drops with a less graceful thud as Dick stretches out his spine. There’s a satisfying pop-pop-pop of his back as he leans back. 

He turns, and sees Jay going for his water bottle. He looks tired — from what, Dick doesn’t know. But there are dark bags under his eyes and a sleep-distracted look on his face. He’s been distracted, and their lessons have been suffering from it. 

Dick wants to know what’s bothering him, but Jay hasn’t said anything, and Dick doesn’t know what he could say to make it better. 

“I can still keep going.” Jason insists, but he tiredly slumps over to grab his water, and straightens up sluggishly. It’s probably not a lie, but anything Dick shows him he doubts that Jay will retain it. “You don’t have to stop.”

“Oh but I want to.” Dick says, walking over to grab his own water. “I’m human too you know—” and Jay snorts at him with a grumbled ‘doubt it’. “—so I also need my breaks.” 

“With the way you can bend I really don’t think so.” Jason mutters, eyeing him up and down. Dick laughs quietly and takes a long sip of his water. “Seriously, circus boy, what do they feed you? Actually - what did they feed myself?”

Dick’s laughter doubles as Jay’s eyes grow wide and wild, his head shaking with spasming arms. “No, seriously! I don’t know if you’ve seen the other me yet, Dick, but he- he’s fucking huge!” He exclaims, and jumps as high as he can as his arms try to make a silhouette above his head. “I- I’m almost as big as Jack Fenton, and we’re not even biologically related! I don’t know where he got that much height to him, ‘cause- ‘cause Willis, that drunk bastard, was never that big!” 

Dick hasn’t seen the elusive other Jason Todd, and he’s been so curious about him. Both he and Bruce have — especially considering that everyone else doesn’t seem to want to tell them about him. He tried stopping his other self to ask about Jason Todd of his world, and his other self just said that he was his little brother and the second robin, and that he did a lot of his own stuff. 

It was a whole bunch of fucking nothing. And he and Bruce were growing suspicious about it. They hadn’t thought of it before because, well, they were busy adjusting to being in a new world and trying to figure out a way back. And then Jason was never really brought up, but neither was Dick Grayson unless Dick asked about it, and he didn’t think to ask about Jason Todd before.

It was all just strange.

But Jay’s exclamation over the size of himself distracts Dick long enough that he forces himself to put the mystery of Jason Todd on the backburner for now. “I’ll- I’ll have to see him for myself, Jaybird.” He says when his laughter subsides, and he straightens up. 

“Seriously,” Jay stresses, and he starts to make his way towards the gym door. “He’s fucking massive, Dick. Built like a brick shithouse.” 

Dick almost starts laughing again, “Where did you even learn that phrase?” 

Jay rolls his shoulders back and grins at him slyly, “I read.” He says, and it’s so clearly not how he learned that word that Dick barks out a laugh. 

They reach the door, and Jay holds the door open as Dick reaches for the light switch. He looks behind him, surveying the room quickly to make sure that there’s nothing they could have left on the floor, before turning off the lights.

Bright green eyes stare at him from the mirror. Right where Jay is standing. 

In an instant, the lights are back on. Dick’s heart has been kickstarted into fifth gear, suddenly and loudly racing in his chest as he darts his head around the room. It was only two seconds, perhaps only even one, but fear has been shot like an adrenaline needle into Dick’s veins. An inhuman, skyrocketing fear alike to Scarecrow’s fear gas. 

What was that?

What was that?

WHAT WAS THAT?  

But there’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There’s nothing there. There is only Jason where the eyes were. 

From the mirror’s reflection, Jason turns his head — he hadn’t been looking at Dick, he hadn’t been looking at Dick — and stares up at him. There is confusion written on his face as he glances up at Dick, and then at the mirror. He meets his eyes - Jason’s blue, blue, not green, eyes — and Dick forces himself to look away from the mirror and down at Jay.

“What was that for?” Jay asks him, perfectly normal and perfectly confused. 

Dick feels like he just ran a marathon. He’s panting, he doesn’t know why, and he forces himself to sound like he wasn’t as he wets his lips and furrows his brows. “I thought I saw something.” He says, frowning. 

He didn’t think. He did. He did. 

What did he see? 

It was standing where Jay was. Those eyes. Those green-green eyes. It was where Jay was. He forces himself to shake his head, his frown deepening, unsettled. Jason peers around him as if to see what he had, and Dick puts a hand on his chest, stopping him. “It was nothing, let's go.” 

He turns Jay around, and ignores his bewildered look. That lighthearted mood he had earlier has plummeted, replaced with an eerie paranoia as he takes the door from Jason’s hand and flicks the lights back off. 

When he looks over his shoulder at the mirror, there’s nothing there. 

—------------

Danny has another nightmare. It’s the same one. It’s dark again. That high pitched laughter fills his ears. The ticking is louder, louder, louder. It’s counting down, but to what - he can’t see — he can’t see what it’s counting down to. 

There is still so much pain. His head hurts, his body hurts. He has a body now, he can remember he has a body. He’s in so much pain. He looks down at his hands and pooling around his knees is a bloody yellow cape, it’s torn and bloody and his hands are bloody and torn and he’s wearing green gloves. 

He wakes up just before the ticking stops. He doesn’t know how he knows that the ticking stops. 

Danny rolls over and hangs himself sideways off the bed, gasping for air that doesn’t come. He wants to scream again, to shriek with such terror that it sends everyone in the manor running into his room. He doesn’t, he can’t, he has no mouth and he must scream. 

Danny gasps for air instead, and then dry heaves until he throws up onto the floor. His head is spinning with the fadings of a dream-made concussion, again. His chest hurts deeper, more, it’s no longer shallow and as if someone was sitting on his chest, like someone had beat him in the stomach and chest and head.  

He feels like he’s choking. He is, he’s choking on what bile he can’t get out of his throat, and he forces himself to swallow it back down. He’s crying, he realizes, and dragging in air down into his lungs to the point it hurts. 

What is going on? He thinks through the haze in his mind. With what lucidity he has he brings a hand to his head to make sure he’s not bleeding. His palm swipes against sticky skin, and all that comes back is sweat. He’s not bleeding. He feels like he is. 

Make it stop. His inner mind wails as he finally, finally, starts to calm down again. He’s still crying. The tears burn down his cheeks, and he absently sticks out his tongue and licks the ones that gather at his lips away. He wipes at his face again, and when he looks at his hands, all he sees is skin.

He’s not wearing gloves. 

His hands reach for his back, and grasp his sweat-soaked shirt instead. He’s not wearing a cape. It soothes him, just a little bit. But not enough to keep him feeling safe. 

Danny peers over the side of the bed, and through his dark-adjusted eyes he sees the sitting puddle of throw-up on the floor. He cringes, sniffling. He can’t keep that there. He needs to — he needs to clean that up. 

Alfred must be sleeping by now — what time is it? He doesn’t know. He can’t wake him up. Where does Alfred keep the cleaning supplies? 

Danny throws his legs over the side — they’re not broken, he thinks dazedly — why would he think they’re broken? — and he stumbles to the door. He avoids, somehow, the sick.

(He passes by a mirrored vanity on his way to the door. He doesn’t see his reflection staring at him with green-green eyes. He doesn’t see those eyes following him.) 

He runs into Bruce in the hallway. He should have guessed it so. Danny freezes in his tracks, fear shooting up into his throat as Bruce turns towards him, already a smile pulling on the older man’s face. 

It drops immediately when he sees him. It twists down, and his face burrows into concern. “What’s wrong?” He asks, and Bruce is kneeling before him before Danny can blink. He looks worried. Danny must look awful then.

(He does. He looks pale as a ghost, and his face is splotchy red and shiny with tears.) 

Danny blinks at him numbly, trying to get his thoughts in order. Bruce’s hands are on his shoulders, Danny throws his hands over them, squeezing the knuckles and blinking widely. “I had-” he licks his lips, “a- uh, nightmare. And then I threw up.”

Fuck, he feels like a toddler. His eyes burn with embarrassed tears. He’s fucking thirteen. He’s not a baby. But he feels like a little kid going to their parent’s room. Bruce isn’t even his dad. He shouldn’t feel this way. 

But Bruce doesn’t make fun of him, or scold him, and Danny didn’t really expect him to, but the concern that melts over his face as his eyes soften makes him feel all warm and fuzzy anyways. “Okay,” Bruce says, expression softened but no less worried, and stands up. “Okay, we can go find Alfred then.” 

Danny’s lips press together, uneven and wobbling. “Please don’t.” He says before he can stop himself, and his voice cracks. He feels like such a baby. “I can clean it myself. We don’t have to wake him up.” 

“Do you even know where the cleaning supplies are, chum?” Bruce asks, and in the dark hallway he can see him raise an eyebrow. Danny’s lips press tighter together. He doesn’t. But he can find it. 

They wake up Alfred. Dany feels like shit the entire time. 

“I’m sorry.” He croaks as he follows Alfred and Bruce down the hallway with a mop and a bucket. He’s so embarrassed. He’s going to cry again, and he hates it. “I can do it, Mister Pennyworth. Please.” 

“You sound,” Mister Pennyworth starts, his voice soft, “just like young Master Jason when he started living here.” He turns to throw Danny an endeared smile, and Danny thinks it’s supposed to make him feel better. It does, a little bit, and it also makes him feel worse. 

“I am Jason.” He says, and tears spill down his face again. He is Jason. That’s his name. It’s not Danny, it never has been. The time he’s been here has slowly been pointing that out to him. He may be Fenton, but he’s not Danny. 

Alfred gets it all cleaned up, and Bruce sticks with him after he leaves. Danny’s grateful and resentful of it — hasn’t he embarrassed himself enough tonight? 

Bruce leads him to the library, a funny parallel to the first time. “We can ask Mister Wayne —” Bruce’s face scrunches up slightly, and Danny laughs under his breath. At least he’s not the only one still weirded out by it. “— about getting you a new room tomorrow.” 

Danny sniffs dryly, “How’d you know?” He didn’t think it was obvious that he didn’t want to go to sleep in his room. Bruce smiles knowingly at him, sadly, and they both sit down in the lounge chair next to the fireplace. It sits across from Danny’s armchair.

“I know a thing or two about nightmares.” He says softly.

Oh. 

Yeah.

That’s right. His parents. 

He probably had nightmares about that. 

Danny looks away from him, his eyes drop to his hands. His bare, non-bloody hands. He leans into Bruce’s side. “I don’t wanna talk about it.” He mumbles. He doesn’t want to talk about dying. Or what he thought was dying.  

“And you don’t have to.” Bruce says, slinging one arm around him and slumping against the curve of the chair. Danny reluctantly follows his falling, and finds himself trapped between the back of the chair and Bruce’s side. His ear is pressed to Bruce’s heartbeat. “We can just sit here, and talk about something else.” 

Danny blinks at the empty fireplace. “Okay. Tell me about films again.” 

Bruce’s fingers dig gently into his hair, and scratch slowly against his scalp. “Okay, Danny.” 

Danny frowns. “And don’t call me Danny. It’s Jason.” 

He doesn’t look up to see Bruce’s smile, but he can hear it as the man thumbs over the shell of his ear. “Okay, Jason.” 

(Danny falls asleep halfway through Bruce’s telling of the history of the Grey Ghost. Bruce knows by the way his breathing slows into a steady rhythm and his eyes don’t open.) 

(He smiles for mite a moment, before it drops and his eyes turn to the bookshelf in the corner. Standing there is a small black figure, with two burning green eyes.) 

(They stare at each other for a long, long minute, Bruce’s heart rising slowly. The figure tilts its head, and disappears. Bruce doesn’t sleep for the rest of the night.) 

—-------

Danny stares down Bruce. Bruce stares him down back. It’s morning. It’s breakfast. Everyone is at the table eating, and he and Bruce are having a silent staring contest. Danny has to ask Mister Wayne about moving to a new room, he thought he would be able to do so after breakfast. 

(Who was he kidding? He wasn’t going to ask at all - why bother Mister Wayne about something he can get over?) 

(Bruce, apparently, wasn’t having it. With that stupid knowing look on his face.) 

But Bruce wants it to be now. Danny narrows his eyes at him, and Bruce raises an eyebrow back. Dick Grayson, his world, was going to notice soon. He was sitting next to Bruce this morning. That traitor. 

If you don’t do it, I will. Bruce’s face says. Bastard. Danny was going to take away his Jason rights.

Danny’s the first to relent, pressing his lips together into an annoyed, thin line, before he lets out a silent sigh and turns to Mister Wayne. “Mister Wayne?” He says, cringing slightly when Mister Wayne looks up at him - as with most of the room. 

“Yes, Danny?” 

He spares one last look at Bruce, who nods curtly at him, and Danny throws him one last annoyed look before turning back to Mister Wayne. “Would it, uh, be fine if I changed rooms?” He asks. 

Mister Wayne tilts his head, slightly, to the side with a look of interest. “You can, but what brought this up? Is everything okay?”

Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Danny was expecting that question. He glares at Bruce from the corner of his eye. And then smiles shakily at Mister Wayne. “Um, uh, yeah. Everything’s fine— it’s just, it’s stupid. Some, some stupid nightmares keeping me up.” 

Mister Wayne’s brows furrow, and Dick looks concerned from Danny’s peripherals. “It’s not stupid, you can change your room. I’m sorry you’ve been having nightmares.”

He doesn’t even ask what they’re about. Bruce didn’t either — he thinks he would’ve, maybe — but fuck, jeez. Danny laughs uncomfortably, scratching his jaw. “Yeah- um, thanks. It sucks.” He just barely stops himself from blurting out that he was dreaming that he was dying.

That was not a can he wanted to open. They would have questions, he knows they would, and he doesn’t want to think about it. The image of his bloody, torn hands are already seared into his mind. 

Everyone goes back to eating.

(Dick keeps looking up at him with a shadow of a frown on his face, like he’s keeping an eye on him. Quick enough that Danny doesn’t notice it. Bruce does, and watches his son from the corner of his eye.)

(Danny doesn’t see it, but his reflection turns its head. And peers around the back of its chair. Its eye burns green and it stares at Dick. The next time Dick looks up, it catches his eye.)

(He doesn’t straighten up, he forces himself not to react. He just keeps staring at it, his breath locked in his lungs, his limbs filling with a low, buzzing static. He doesn’t know what it is. It’s terrifying him.)

(The reflection doesn’t react to him, but its eyes seem to… glitch. And an eye appears next to it, and another one appears in a line. The pupils slowly turn to look… at Danny.)

(The window begins to crack.)

“JaSON!” Dick suddenly yells, standing up so abruptly that his chair falls back and slams against the ground with an echoing bang. Danny jerks back in surprise, and stares at Dick, who looks at him with equally wide eyes. 

Dick looks like he’s seen a ghost, his face pale as a sheet. He looks ill. He’s panting, there’s a sheen going over his forehead, like he’s just run a mile. But he’s gripping the table like he may just vault over it.

And everyone is looking at them both once again. Bruce looks incredibly concerned. 

“I— what?” Danny says, pushing his back into the chair as far as he could go. 

Dick blinks, and heaves a breath. Like whatever trance he was in was just… snapped out of. His brows furrow, and he moves, suddenly, peering over Danny like he’s trying to look around him. Left, right, and over, and then back again. 

“You—” he pauses, breathing in, “you looked like you were about to disappear.” 

Danny stares at him in disbelief. And he looks behind him, laughing nervously. There’s nothing there but his own reflection in the smooth glass window. “What- what kind of fucking—” he turns back around to look at Dick. “Why would you say that?” 

“There was something in the window.” Dick says immediately, and Danny is immediately rising to his feet and rushing around the table. Nope - nope, nope, fuck that. He’s by him and Bruce in an instant, as the other Waynes stand up and turn to the window as well.

Dick’s arms are around him the moment he’s within reach, tugging him into his side as one hand presses down against his chest, keeping him close. Dick hasn’t taken his eyes off the window, brows furrowed and serious. 

Everyone looks so serious. It’s freaking him out a little bit. 

“What was your nightmare about, Jay?” Dick asks when he finally tears his eyes away from the window and looks down at him. He’s got a protective hold on him, something so similar to Jazz whenever their parents set something on fire upstairs. 

Danny swallows dryly — does he have to say it? Saying it might bring him back to it, and he doesn’t want to go back to it. Twice was enough for him. “I was dying.” He admits anyways, and regrets it immediately when half a dozen heads all snap to look at him. 

In a panic, his mouth runs. “I was- I don’t remember anything- I just, it was dark and I was in pain and-” He presses his lips together, “I— I was in so much pain. There was this laughter—” Laughter. Familiar laughter now that he thinks about it. From the news. Danny’s lips curl downwards, and he whispers to himself, “Joker?”

“Joker?” Dick repeats, his voice hard. When Danny looks up, his face is unrecognizably stern. “You had a dream that the Joker was killing you?” 

“I— no— yes?” Frustration bleeds into his chest, fear pooling up his throat as the nightmare pulls on the edge of his memory. “I don’t fucking know. I didn’t see anything, all I heard was ticking and that stupid laughter. And I was bleeding, and I was wearing this yellow fucking cape, and- and I was dying.” 

He pulls himself away from Dick, his breathing picking up. “I just- I was— there was this ticking sound and I woke up before it stopped, and I- I don’t know why I knew it was about to stop — but I know that when the ticking stops something bad was going to happen— and it was just a nightmare.” 

Danny grits his teeth, and looks back up at Dick, forcing himself to calm down before he works himself into a panic. “It was just a fucking nightmare, Dick.” He says forcibly, and then he marches out of the room to the library. 

His appetite’s been ruined. 

—---------

Danny’s — Jason’s — asleep next to him. Bruce would think it was sweet if it weren’t for the fact that Jason’s been having nightmares about dying of all things. Nightmares that weren’t, he suspects, completely unfounded. 

His other self looked ill in the face as Jason marched out of the room that morning after Dick’s outburst. Outburst. That’s all he can think to call it even if it sounds juvenile. Like it was unfounded as Jason’s nightmare. 

His other self has been hiding something from him. Something about Jason Todd of this world, who he hasn’t seen at all since they arrived, but Danny — Jason — has. He would’ve thought the other Todd was a ghost if his other world’s… children… hadn’t confirmed seeing and knowing him recently. 

(That was something he still hasn’t fully comprehended. Children, plural? He adopts more after Dick? He has a biological son?) 

He’d be interrogating his other self on this if Jason wasn’t asleep next to him. It would be remarkably easy, as they were all sitting in the living room for the afternoon. All his other children were vigilantes, he wouldn’t need to keep pretenses.

But Jason is asleep next to him, and he doesn’t know. So he resolves to staring holes into his other self’s head, who was going through documents. A case, he bets. His other self doesn’t pay him any mind, but Bruce knows he knows that he’s staring at him. 

(“What have you been keeping from me?” He growls the moment Jason is out of the dining room, rising to his feet. The look on his other self meant that he knew something about those nightmares that Bruce didn’t. 

His other self looks at him, “Nothing that concerns your world.” He says, all of the kids looked tense as well, but now they were staring between the both of them like a fight would break out. 

“Bullshit.” Dick snaps before Bruce can speak, he walks around him and points an accusing finger at his other self. “You looked like you saw a ghost when Jaybird said he was dreaming of the Joker killing him. You know something.”

He did not tell them anything.) 

Whatever it was that his other self was hiding, Bruce would find out before they went back to their world. This concerned him, and it concerned Jason’s safety. If he wasn’t safe and his other self knew something about it, Bruce would be furious. 

Jason’s ragged gasp cut through the air like a knife, and Bruce’s gaze snapped down to his face as the boy’s eyes flew open and he jerked sharply. Jason’s hands were latched onto his shirt before Bruce could react, his nails dragging into his skin like he was trying to claw himself up.

It was another nightmare. Jason was clawing at him, trying to sit himself up while jagged, awful sounding gasps filled the air. He wasn’t looking at Bruce, he wasn’t looking at anything, his eyes glazed over like he was still trapped in the nightmare. 

Bruce wrapped his arms around the small boy and pulled them both down onto the ground, ignoring his other children standing up and looking at them until he had Jay in a cradle. 

The boy was still gasping for air, hyperventilating. His hands drop from Bruce’s shirt and scratch at his throat, his arms forming an ‘x’ while he tilts his head back and desperately tries to draw in oxygen. Bruce tilts his head back up with his hand, and leans him against his shoulder. 

“Breathe.” He murmurs, pushing damp black curls out of Jay’s face. It was a poor command - Jason’s eyes were squeezed shut and his face scrunched in pain, Bruce doesn’t think he can even hear him. “You’re safe.” 

“Bruce.” Dick hisses into his ear, and Bruce doesn’t look at him. He grunts to let his son know he heard him. “The mirror.” 

Bruce’s eyes fly up.

There was a floor length mirror sitting in front of the couch. A mirror that Bruce was conveniently, coincidentally, sitting in front of. A mirror that should have been working as all mirrors do. 

A mirror that, instead of showing Bruce his reflection back as he was, showed him in his Batman suit. Jason was in his arms, but in a torn, bloody uniform. A uniform that looked like a Robin suit. Jason - his Jason - wasn’t a Robin. But here he was, dressed as one, his black-yellow cape pooling beneath him and covered in blood. 

The Jason in the mirror, the Robin, wasn’t breathing. His head lolled over Bruce’s arm lifelessly. 

Bruce’s heart skids to a stop, and he looks back down. Jason was still breathing, his hyperventilating was beginning to slow, but he was breathing. The pained crease of his face was softening, even as his brows were still furrowed. 

When Bruce looks back up at the mirror, the reflection has changed. It wasn’t back to normal, Jason was just in a different suit. He was wearing a white hazmat suit now, and he was burned, horribly. The suit was melted to his skin in patches around his body in black, charred splotches, what wasn’t burned was torn, and the skin he could see was cauterized. The only part of him that was bleeding was his head, and it soaked his black hair red. What of his face he could see, there were bright green lightning figures going up his neck, burning the skin around where it glows. 

The mirror cracks down the middle, severing Jason from Bruce. 

He forces himself to look down, terrified to see the reflection a reality right in front of him. But Jason was alive, uninjured, and breathing quietly. Bruce presses two fingers to his throat, and feels a steady pulsepoint thumping against the pads of his fingers.

Jason’s eyes open and blue stares up at him.  

When Bruce looks up at the mirror, the reflection is back to normal.  

[angy-grrr]

A thought about the leaks:

It makes more sense when you think about Izuku Midoriya as an unreliable narrator who wanted to talk about a hero story.

He doesnt want us, the audience, to know about the depth of his own feelings and emotions, because this is the story of how he and the rest of the class kept reaching out their hands to those in need of help.

Something that kind of surprised me when he talked to Ochako was how he would frame it almost like "you are my hero as you have reached out your hand to me multiple times since the beginning, and I want to also be a hero to you too, so I must help you with everyone else"; he wants to be a hero from the beginning to the end, and this act of kindness for Ochako and need to let out her emotions for Himiko is framed as heroic. This is him being a hero.

Who saves the heroes? Other heroes, instead of being alone. And anyone can be a hero. This is a story about it.

Izuku has no intentions of showing off his trauma, his loneliness, his pain, outside of what's heroic; he cant even talk about romantic feelings without going back to it.

It made me feel much better, to see it that way; its not that the whole story ends with what he said, he is literally skipping all he parts that wouldn't be part of a cool hero story.

He parallels AFO after all.

I think it makes sense considering how much different Ochako's feelings and thoughts are depending on who tells the story; when we have her POV while fighting Himiko everything is personal and emotional, but when she explains her feelings to Deku she doesnt even mention anything related to how much she wanted her in her life, besides the childhood friends comment, and even brings up the uses of her quirk. Its like she is comparing herself to Deku? Like if she noticed those things about quirks instead of focusing on the emotional aspect, then maybe she could have helped her sooner. And in the final chapter, when she is mentioned, its about her heroic work, not about how much they talked, or their hangouts, or anything like that.

Izuku skips the handhold, and I want to believe its bc it wouldnt make it for the hero story. He doesnt talk about what he felt when he sacrificed himself for the first time, but we saw his anger and his uncontrolled pain. He doesnt talk about how he forgives him, but we saw how much he always wanted him in his life. He doesnt talk about Katsuki dying. but we saw how someone else had to tell him they didnt lose anyone yet and he was getting help. Control your heart. Izuku hits his chest, black whip makes a heart, and he focuses in what he knows to do: heroics. He will save, and he will fight to save.

Another reason why he wouldnt bring back his own feelings when it comes to imitating Katsuki unconsciously even if he knows others would dislike it; he wants to be selfless hero Deku, and while he does admire Katsuki and cherish his company, he knows he himself wouldnt get a pass to be rude when he isnt as brilliant as him from his perspective.

And like any hero would, he wants his friends by his side, and forever to help others. That's what he wants to represent in his hero academia, another saving hero like his All Might.

(Also apparently Horikoshi and his team were especially pressured by Shonen Jump during these months and he admits he found it rushed, so once again the capitalistic corporation is the evil to defeat. This is just my own interpretation in universe)

[pwippy]

hi. hello. did you think my frame by frame analysis of round 6 would ever stop? it isnt it never will i keep noticing things and it might be unhealthy

somehow i tuned out tills expressions during the kiss scene ! guess we're going for those (this is an unnecessarily long undetailed yapping session so. mega warning)

shock to realization when hes being pulled in

more realization and confusion! actually a lot of these scenes include his pupils getting smaller. having a lot of revelations. emotions etc

fun game: tell the difference. thats right its the eyebrows! and eyebags. concern has set in and the fight or flight response which is technically good because it means he wants to live

his expression doesnt shift for a few frames but the main thing is (as previously mentioned) that he has a will to live again. he has light in his eyes. yeah hes confused and for the next few frames its the same expression but from different angles. a little ragdolly but also ivan has much more physical strength

right before he pushes away from ivan his focus actually shifts to him. when ivan first came over its more like till was staring into the unknown but now hes lucid and focusing on whats happening

also! a little fear? not sure its only like 3 frames

force

i dont think thats a tear since they have a specific texture. desperately hoping for his pov of round 6 at some point 🙏 wont say too much abt this but its really interesting! and really sad to see because of his blatant distress

that one line . argh. thats anger! the furrowed brows !

anger goes away in 2 frames. owh these frames. are so painful. ivan pulls back and just. looks at till. theyre looking at each other. to some extent THERE IS UNDERSTANDING. but its fleeting. (alsocan we talk about ivan trailing his finger over tills lips ohmygod. topography map which ivan has memorized literally on his hand. ow. divets.)

sighs sadly. this is when actual concern sets in for till and i. oh. only comment ill make is that compared to the kissing scene he is significantly more stressed based on the wrinkles and the situation in general. the kiss was more like that blurry line of consciousness when you wake up.

hes looking at ivan 🤗 (losing my mind)

i dont think you understand my hatred of this ! hes straight back into "oh im destined to die" mode! his face was relaxing !!!!

sobs in ivan tried to keep his hands stable so till wouldnt get jostled WHILE IVANS LITERALLY DYING

doubts maybe?? i dont think ivan was trying to strangle him like even if you give in to what you think is "fate" physically your body will retaliate against death or stress. hes not hacking or coughing or anything he is genuinely staring into the void. probably feeling guilty so

i wouldnt say hes confused here. at least not yet. its more of an "oh." expression. an emotional thud

he whipped his head down to look at ivan really quick!! anyways i imagine hes surprised he didnt die on stage. surprised he was let go (when usually hes doing the letting go ahahaha). he doesnt take his eyes off ivan the whole time ivans falling :')

also confusion. all confusion

i sure wish i could see his eyebrows to properly analyze him but I GUESS NOT. for at least half of the round till was mourning his own death (and mizis presumed death ig). he knew it would be quick. he didnt know ivan would step in and kiss him which just brings up a ton of "why nows" and "why mes" but also that he might be strangled. slowly. to death. then that doesnt go through either and now hes left to mourn his childhood companion

anyways thought this was interesting to pull out since till has a lot of subtle differences in his expressions but they mean EVERYTHING. its also an odd contrast to ivan who (at least until the end) stays nonchalant. he eyes barely shift and when he gets shot his flinching is there for literal milliseconds. both went into round 6 believing they would die and they both technically forfeited (with till not singing anymore). till *technically* went first. aha guess what ivans going to pull an aggressive move. that you couldnt have expected because honestly a) who could have expected that and b) till didnt go out of his way to pay attention to ivan. he took the interactions and moved on. he had a lower understanding compared to ivan who constantly analyzed till

[bwoahtastic]

i love toto taking nico as an omega pet! i also love angst (w a happy ending) so here me out:

merc has been really pushing toto to take a pet, it would be good for his image, maybe hes been breaking one to many headphones this past month. even lewis has adopted little cowie valteri!! toto has to choose

so toto, with some pettiness, decides to take home nico: a peacock found in a trafficking ring who lost all his feathers and isnt as nice on the eye as other omegas (a little shabby, none of his scales in his arms, his hair is flat and not really shiny) he just need a little bit of care okay!!

and toto sees that, but he also wants to show merc that adopting a pet wont immediately fix his image (maybe hes bitter about something with the team, idk why hes doing all this lksksks)

so he brings nico home and the omega is sooo wary of him, but they start to get to know each other and they found so much peace in the other!! nico finds someone who can protect him, who saw him as more than a broken pet. toto can confide in nico, is so happy that he gets home to someone wainting for him. and nico starts growing his feathers back, his hair shines brighter than ever bc of the products toto aplies to it, hes so happy!!

but then, maybe nico meets lewis and lewis goes “toto, man, you told me you would choose an ugly one bc merc froged you to take a pet, this omega is gourgeous, yada yada yada” and nicos heart breaks, hes so confused bc he now relies on toto for everything! he cant be on his own, he would end up in a ring again, poor thing feels so betrayed

and toto would try to give him the world if that makes nico forgive him!!! it would take time, but eventually he would and theyll live happy ever after (or not?? maybe someone else takes care of nico!)

First of all Lewis having little cow Valtteri? Dying, that is so cute! Valtteri is so sweet abd very very affectionate and loves being gently scratched behind his ear!

Toto being pushed and pushed to take a pet, saying it will help him calm down but he hates how they insinuate that he must sleep with his pet to do so. Toto rescuing Nico from a trafficking ring, his file reads "Peacock Omega" but there is no signs of it, sparkles missing and tail hidden as Nico is embarassed of how bad it looks...

Nico being so wary of Toto st first, but he likes the room that Toto gives him and Toto is very kind and understanding! Nico slowly blossoming arounf Toto, feathers growing back slowly and Toto helps him brush the parts Nico can't reach. Toto sees him as human, whoch very few people have done around Nico before.

Toto finally taking Nico to the paddock when he is comfortable enough, Nico holding his hand tight but proudly showing off his feathers becsuse his owner is good to him. Lewis coming up and bing surprised cos didn't Toto say he was gonna get an "ugly" pet, something that wouldn't look great getting photographed with and Nico judt shrinks into himself,being so hurt because Toto didn't choose him adter all, just a "project" to make FIA angry...

Ot would take a long time for Toto to gain his full trust back, and pls Toto hates how Nico's feathers go dull and when he finds some around the house that have clearly fallen out!

Nico is so lonely and sad and maybe Toto gets a second pet Omega? Nico wants to be offended, feels replaced, bur Toto says its company for Nico so he doesn't have to be arounf Toto at all but doesn't have to be alone! Maybr kitty Max? So purry and sweet and loving cuddles with Nico!

[bonnieura]

every time i hear a freaky grandma nitpick JFK's weight after 1960 an angel loses its wings and god kills a kitten. I cant ever understand why they [american public] are so fixated with his appearance and especially his weight. It just screams fatphobia. literally no one is dying if he gained a few pounds . its not ww3. The way its said is always just so condescending and backhanded? putting his early life his illnesses his medications and his plenty near-death experiences into consideration i am damn glad he managed to be even if only a little, HEALTHY . something he literally never got the chance to say about himself

you can say that it's a given considering his whole campaign strategy was built around his *youth* and looks in general but that does not take away from the RUTHLESSNESS i see from people when his weight is the subject of matter. and thats from today in *2024* like jesus christ imagine how it was in the 60s 😭

you can say that the "reason he put on weight" (as if it even needs a reason, he wasnt overweight or anything at all) was to look less boyish and more like formidable or something for the elections. he already had to deal with criticism on being too young for the presidency. And all of that isnt something to be ashamed or remorseful of at all either?? I genuinely dont get why so many to this day just outright degrade him for it. as if a middle aged man not being borderline underweight is satan's incarnate.

speaking of underweight, he was the aforementioned for YEARS during his service in the senate and the house. having just returned from ww2 with near fatal injuries he was clearly ill and malnourished. And yet i still see people romanticize it as if its something commendable. You can commend him pulling through and getting his health together even if just barely, not whatever people glorify of his illness

If you read a little back you can see i mentioned his early life. well yeah thats cause his parents single handedly almost gave him and his siblings [tw] || eating disorders || [unfortunately i wouldnt be surprised if he had one] from disturbingly young ages . Im certain that it did a number on him and stuck to some degree. So I am damn glad he was able to break out of it [or at least look like he did , i cant tell you whether he did manage to break out or not considering he was hypervigilant on his appearance till the day he hit the grave atp

plus im pretty sure some of his medicine consisted of cortisone [known for puffing up the face and leading the patient to gain weight]. I hate how hyperfixated people are with his weight and body. yeah no damn wonder he was so worried 24/7 and love or hate the man literally no one should have to go through that. theres so much more i wanna say rn but im tired of yapping

[stevie-petey]

hiiiiiiiii honey <3 could we get a blurb about bug telling steve about jonathan’s outburst towards her after he took the pictures of nancy and steve’s reaction to learning about it???? it would be so so appreciated by me <3 you’re the best ever <3 MWAH

(i am being held against my will to write this jonathan sweetie im so sorry) (i love u val) (u are evil)

i know this isnt necessarily what u MEANT but ,,, ive been dying to expand upon bugs kindness and how it may seem annoying and pathetic, but its hers ! its her kindness !!!

enjoy <3

"no way you guys havent wanted to strangle each other at least once." steve remarks one day as he watches you and jonathan work side by side at the cash register.

jonathan had been bored today and decided to join you and steve at work, something that you're very happy about, honestly.

"oh, ive definitely wanted to strangle jonathan," you say, writing down a new shipment receipt while the boy next to you doodles.

steve rolls his eyes. "old married couple squabbling doesnt count. im talking, like, full on betrayal and hurt here. you guys are always so... you, and it has to be an act."

jonathan snorts. "shouldve seen the fights we had last year. surprised y/n didnt kill me with her bare hands."

"i dont believe you."

"no, hes right." you look up at steve. "he threw a jacket at my face last year and then told me we werent family the night he took those pictures of nancy. then cried in my arms like a day later."

steve stares at you, shocked.

"i also then slept in nancys bed and lied about it. and tried leaving you behind a few times."

"that you did," you flick jonathans ear, causing him to wince in pain. "you deserved that."

"i did."

during this entire exchange, steve hasnt said a single word. hes still stunned, baffled by the fact that jonathan could be so cruel to someone so wonderful.

"wait a second," he looks between you and jonathan. "and youre still friends?"

"yeah." you both say at the same time.

steve cant fucking believe it. you do anything and everything for jonathan, that much is obvious, and sure. steve has seen jonathan do small acts of kindness towards you, devote the same back, but to throw a jacket at you and belittle you? and now here he is, joking about it alongside you. as if it was all okay in the end.

"youre too nice sometimes, y/n." the words leave steves lips before he can stop them. once he realizes what hes said, he looks up at jonathan and panics. "sorry, man. im sure you guys talked it out and... yeah."

jonathan shrugs. "no, youre right. she is and i was dick."

"im right here, you know."

steve winces. "sorry."

"its fine, honestly." you go back to scribbling shipment orders. "i am indeed too nice, but i dont ever really see the point in holding a grudge? i mean, jonathan apologized and i understood the stress he was under. sure, it didnt erase all the hurt he caused, but after almost dying immediately after being mad at him for not including me in something... i dont know. it felt silly to hold onto that anger after. childish, even."

jonathan and steve share a look, for once both seeming to think the same thing.

shes too good.

you hate that they do this. you hate that people view your kindness as a weakness. after the hell youve been through, long before monsters even came to hawkins, youve learned the hard way just how rare kindness is.

now you try to be kind to everything and everyone, no matter what it may cost you.

the kindness is yours, no one elses.

and if that makes you weak, then at least it made you better.

you tear two pieces paper from your notebook, scrunch them up into balls, and then throw them at steve and jonathan. "stop pitying me. im kind and i love that aspect of myself. i dont care if it makes me vulnerable or pathetic. its a piece of me, and i wouldnt change it. if you dont like it, then that belittles me even more than emotional outbursts ever could."

jonathan sighs. "youre right, bug. youre a very kind and lovely person and its what makes you a joy to be around, paper balls and all."

steve plays along. "definitely a better super power than spider-man, dare i say."

"okay, lets not get ahead of ourselves now," you giggle, appreciative of both the boys. they may not understand or like the way you view the world, but theyre at least trying.

its all you could ask for.

even if steve later on that day pulls you aside to whisper, "i think i can kick jonathans ass this time, if you ever need it."

and its enough.

[weebsinstash]

SCREAMING you can't drop MULTIPLE CLIFFHANGERS ON ME

big big spoilers for the hazbin hotel finale below

-ok so I fucking. I fucking KNEW ADAM WORE A MASK. I KNEW it was weird that Lute had a human face, but, Adam is like a higher being, so, I wasn't sure? But sure enough it's a helmet

-OK SO I ALSO HAD A FEELING SOMEONE DYING WOULD BE A GOOD THING BUT WOW ADAM WIPED PENTI0US OFF THE MAP HUH, I HAD TO REWIND IT WAS SO FAST

-not me having thoughts about shape-shifting playful goofy little Lucifer BRAGGING TO ADAM'S FACE ABOUT STEALING HIS GIRL AND EATING HER OUT AND HER LOVING IT. AND THEN? Would have ended his fucking life if Charlie hadn't stopped him and then he's like "How's mercy feel bitch" also demon form hot

-NIFTY DOING WHAT NEEDED TO BE DONE HONESTLY AND VAGGIE SHOULDA DONE THE SAME

-You can't drop TWO CLIFFHANGERS WITHIN LIKE 30 SECONDS

-I feel like maybe Alastor has a contract with Eve instead of Lilith...

--BUT STILL YOU CAN'T HIT ME WITH PENTIOUS IN HEAVEN AND THEN REVEAL LILITH LIKE 10 SECONDS LATER

--I love how Emily is so excited and Sera looks EXHAUSTED SHE HATES THIS SHE HATES CHARLIE IS RIGHT

-Lilith though, you-you BITCH, you horrible mom and shit wife, what the fuck is this deal Lute is talking about? Did you vaguely sell out your family to vacation in Heaven with some sort of deal they don't kill them, but now that they're getting involved, Lilith needs to make them stop?

-either way, bitch. I'll take your husband off your hands then-- (I'm kinda suspicious why they didn't show her eyes but maybe it was just because she isnt speaking or anything yet....)

-- i agree with Vox honestly the other Vees should have been more hype but he really was doing a little Too Much. But also missed opportunity with all three of them. I'm thinking of a journalist kinda reader or blogger reader or whatever whos better at making informative videos and personal documentation of these events. Surprised Velvette wasn't blogging about it and I'm especially surprised Valentino didn't seem to care if anything happened to Angel? Also not enough Val singing :( it was too brief and kinda sucked and I've heard a little of Joel's other works and he can definitely sing

Either way what a great finale and I'm sad the show is over. I know a second season is confirmed but maybe we'll get a third after that? 🥺 or a spin off? Well have to see... I'm getting sleepy so the ideas and posting will have to wait for tomorrow

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

hello!! im crumbling after learning that ofmd isnt being renewed and ive been dying for new frenchie x reader fics for months. I will take literally anything to heal my broken heart🙏

Frenchie x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

This is my first time writing a story centered around Frenchie, so I hope I did this sweet goof justice.

Summary: Frenchie comes up with a plan to get you out of work, and it ends with your first kiss.

Playing Hooky 

You had joined Stede Bonnet’s crew on The Revenge around the same time as everyone else, just before Blackbeard’s takeover. Captain Bonnet’s easygoing approach to piracy appealed to you, but the atmosphere drastically shifted when Izzy Hands took over as first mate. You preferred first mate Button’s quirky leadership on deck over Izzy’s constant yelling. As the crew stirred awake, preparing for the day, you sluggishly found your way to the galley, easing into your normal seat across from Frenchie. 

Frenchie greeted you with his usual broad, goofy grin and a wave, all the while engaged in a lively debate with Wee John. Frenchie was adamantly claiming that his friend had once encountered a siren, while Wee John countered that sirens weren’t real. Lately, spending time with Frenchie became the primary reason for you to leave your hammock and get to work each morning. Over the past few weeks sailing for Bonnet, you had developed quite a crush on him. It was hard not to, given his contagious energy, warm brown eyes, sweet nature, and lovely singing voice. He was undeniably handsome and always fun to be around. 

While engrossed in Frenchie’s animated discussion about the dangers and allure of Sirens with Wee John, you failed to notice Izzy Hand’s entrance into the galley. He swiftly began assigning tasks to the crew, designating you for lookout duty before departing as quickly as he came. Today, Frenchie was assigned to kitchen duty, and the thought of spending the day so far apart from him was disheartening. As Izzy left, you slouched over, letting out a sigh as your head rested on the table. Being the lookout had become a repetitive and utterly boring role for you this week. You found it both tedious and isolating. Izzy insisted you ascend to the foremast top to scan the horizon for other ships, but in reality, it often meant hours of staring into emptiness. 

“Well, that’s no good.” Frenchie sighed, prompting you to glance up. “This makes it the fourth time this week you’ve been on lookout.” 

“It is what it is,” you grumbled in response. A part of you was surprised that Frenchie had been keeping tabs on your ship duties, but you shrugged it off. 

“I say, lookout duty is for the birds.” Frenchie replied with a mischievous grin. “So you should play hooky with me instead.” 

Frenchie’s tempting proposal lingered in the air. You considered the ease with which he could slip away during kitchen duty, but a nagging feeling warned you that Izzy would notice your absence right away. 

“Izzy would catch me if I’m not at my post, Frenchie,” you chuckled. “How would that even work?” 

“I’m thrilled you asked,” Frenchie replied with a confident air. “Fortunately for you, I’m a master at the art of espionage.” 

“Good feckin’ luck with that, you two,” Wee John replied, abandoning the table and wanting no part in Frenchie’s antics for the day.

“Alright,” you replied, returning Frenchie’s eager smile. “I’m in.” 

As Frenchie outlined his plan to free you from lookout duty, you couldn’t shake the feeling that the odds of getting caught were almost certain. Yet, the idea of spending extra time with him today made it seem worth it. Following his instructions, you retrieved an extra set of your clothes and a hat from your belongings. 

On your way back to the galley, carrying your extra attire, you unexpectedly crossed paths with Roach. He nonchalantly twirled his meat cleaver while making his way to the kitchen. Engaging in casual conversation, Roach abruptly halted as he observed Frenchie lugging two large bags of flour and a cantaloupe from the nearby storage closet. 

“Now, wait one second,” Roach sang in a threatening tone, continuing to swing the meat cleaver in his hands. “What’s happening here?” 

You observed Frenchie’s face shift into panic as he held the bags of flour. “Oh, well, that’s a great question.” Frenchie stammered. “The captain, you know him, wanted some extra cushions for his cabin. So, I thought, why not these bags of flour?” 

“And the melon?” Roach prodded Frenchie, not sounding convinced. 

“The melon?” Frenchie questioned, momentarily forgetting it was still in his arms. “Oh, you know. He wanted a melon to eat while he sat on the cushion?” Frenchie replied unconvincingly. 

“We’re making a dummy that looks like me, so I can get out of lookout duty today,” you quickly interrupted Frenchie, sensing Roach wasn’t buying his story. 

“Oh nice. Why didn’t you say so?” Roach replied jovially, moving into the kitchen and sticking his knife into the wood of the counter. “Just bring that stuff back once you’re done.” 

“Yes sir.” you replied with a grin, before you and Frenchie headed off to his and Wee John’s room to craft your makeshift lookout dummy. 

You stuffed your spare clothes with the sacks of flour, carefully arranging the cantaloupe on top and capping it off with your hat. Stepping back, both of you surveyed your creation, with Frenchie biting his finger and tilting his head as if appreciating a work of art. 

“Is this what I look like?” you chuckled, examining the scarecrow-like figure before you. 

“Oh, lord no. A dummy could never capture your essence,” Frenchie replied with a bashful grin, causing your heart to flutter for a moment. 

“How the fuck are we going to hoist this up to the foremast without anyone seeing?” you suddenly questioned, once again doubting the feasibility of Frenchie’s plan. 

“Piece of cake,” Frenchie replied confidently. “I’ll whip up a distraction, get everyone’s attention, and give you time to sneak the dummy into place.” 

Crouched on the stairs leading up to the main deck, you and Frenchie had managed to haul the bags of flour, masquerading as you, up the stairs. Frenchie swiftly ascended to the deck, creating a commotion to divert everyone’s attention. From your vantage point, you observed him shouting to the crew and Izzy Hands about something in the water at the ship’s rear. Racing across the quarterdeck, Frenchie reached the poop deck, peering over the edge. Suddenly, the ship lurched, caught in an unexpected wind, causing Frenchie to lose his balance and, with a large splash, disappear overboard. 

Your mouth fell open in astonishment, unsure if this was part of Frenchie’s planned distraction or an accidental plunge. Regardless, the unexpected loss of Frenchie at sea triggered chaos on the deck. Most of the crew rushed to the ship’s rear, where Frenchie was standing moments before. Seizing the opportunity, you sprinted to the foremast and began scaling it with the dummy slung over your shoulder and the cantaloupe tucked under your arm. Wee John, seemingly unfazed by Frenchie’s abrupt departure overboard, chuckled at the spectacle of you ascending the rigging above him. Amused, he made no effort to draw attention to your climb. 

Reaching the platform, you arranged your doppleganger, having it lean against the mast’s railing. Securing the dummy in place with a length of rope around the wooden beam, you hastily tucked the melon into the neck opening of your clothes and placed your hat on top. There was no time to check how realistic it looked from below deck, instead you hurriedly retreated to the galley, your agreed-upon meeting spot, as the crew worked to fish Frenchie from the sea. 

A short while later, Frenchie found you in the galley. He was wearing a knitted sweater, which you assumed Wee John had made for him at some point, along with dry pants. 

Upon spotting you, Frenchie triumphantly lifted his arms, clearly relishing the success of his plan. 

“Master of Espionage,” he declared, his grin widening as his hands remained raised in the air. 

You hopped onto the kitchen counter with a chuckle. “Was it part of your grand plan to fall into the ocean, great master?” you teased. 

Frenchie grabbed an orange from the counter, likely an extra that Roach hadn’t used for breakfast, and began peeling it. 

“Not initially. That’s the beauty of being a master, babe,” he replied coolly. “Plans just come to you suddenly.” 

After peeling the orange, he handed you the other half with a genuine smile, lifting his portion for a toast. “Cheers, my dears,” he whispered. 

You were convinced that Frenchie’s plan had really changed the moment he hit the water, but his confident demeanor did have a certain charm. You both finished off your halves of the orange, placing bets on how long it would take for Izzy to realize your absence. laughter ensued as you marveled at how absurd this day had been so far. 

The peaceful camaraderie in the kitchen was abruptly interrupted by the furious shouts of Izzy Hands calling your name. Frenchie seized your hand, swiftly guiding you to the pantry in the galley, where you both concealed yourselves. The echoing stomps of Izzy’s boots resonated near you, prompting you to stifle quiet laughter. Frenchie placed his hand over your mouth, setting off a shared fit of laughter, and in response, your hand covered his mouth. 

When the echoes of Izzy’s boots faded in a different direction, you both removed your hands. “I’m absolutely fucked.” you laughed. 

As your gaze returned to Frenchie, you caught him looking down at your lips before his eyes swiftly met yours again. The confined intimacy of the small pantry suddenly became palpable, and you sensed the mood shifting. Frenchie leaned in, and his lips gently met yours. They felt soft, carrying a lingering sweetness from the orange you both had shared just moments before. Hesitantly, he leaned away after the kiss, meeting your eyes once more with a shy smile, seemingly trying to gauge your reaction. 

“Frenchie, you kissed me,” you whispered, a soft smile playing on your lips. 

“I couldn’t help it,” he whispered back. 

This time, you took the initiative, leaning in for another kiss. Wrapping your arms around him in his warm sweater, you drew him closer. The fear of Izzy Hands faded away as you both lost yourselves in the sweet, stolen moment. 

The pantry door swung open abruptly, revealing Izzy, red with anger, brandishing a cantaloupe. 

“What the fuck is this?” Izzy spat at the two of them. 

“A cantaloupe,” you replied, causing Izzy’s face to scrunch even more with rage. 

“I thought Mr. Spriggs was the only seductress on board, but I guess I was wrong,” Izzy continued. “This little trick has earned you barnacle duty for the rest of the day.” With that, Izzy quickly turned to leave, dropping the cantaloupe onto the ground. 

Frenchie shot you an apologetic look, but you responded with a giant grin. “Totally worth it,” you said, giving him one more quick kiss before following Izzy. 

“Go, Frenchie,” you heard him whisper to himself when he thought you were out of earshot, causing a smile to creep across your face. 

“Go, Frenchie,” you repeated quietly to yourself as you made your way to the deck.

[hyunsvngs]

okay you know how in the super bowl jp video, they're all wearing football uniforms??? their reaction to their crush wearing a skimpy cheerleader uniform 👀

-🍵💌

STOPPP OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS. them in the football uniforms. i almost died

i think some of the members would find it amusing bc ur so cutie pie pookie, some would find it cute as fuck and some would also be horny.

under the cut bc long asf

so i’m saying:

laughs at u (fondly):

innie - he’s losing it on sight. ur his little cheerleader!!!! THATS SO FUNNY! HE COULD DIE!!!!!!!! he’d make u do little twirls in the cheerleader skirt while he just sat there giggling taking pics. smile would drop instantly if the skirt was a little bit short n he could see ur ass.

hyune - honestly he’d probs die laughing too. esp if you had little pom poms. he’d BEG you to keep the cheerleader outfit so u guys can have matching halloween costumes. makes u do a lil dance w the pom poms.

finds it so so cute:

channie - i can see him being SO fond. makes u stand there n pose for him for piccies and ur just like channie this is meant to be sexy. immediately hes like oh???? show me what’s sexy? and u bend over and he’s like oh. oh. yeah the skirts short isnt it? he’s gotta fuck u then and there but STILL he’d be mumbling in ur ear “‘s cute for me. my lil cheerleader, aren’t’cha?” jesus

binnie - oh my god he’d go insane. he’d be giggling and screaming the fucking house down if he came home to u dressed up as his cheerleader in his room. he’d probs pick u up and just scream. absolutely fucking losing it. INSTANTLY takes pictures with you in the matching football uniform and even makes other people take pics of you too. definitely fucks you after with the football uniform just pulled down a lil for his cock to be out and you with your skirt flipped up

lixie - oh god ur HIS??? UR HIS AND HIS LITTLE CHEERLEADER???? he’d squeal 100%. bounces off the fucking walls and probs even takes u out of his room parading u in front of the other members. like “LOOK!!!!! SHES IN THE UNIFORM!!! MY CHEERLEADER!!!!<3” and everyone’s just like felix that’s.. meant to be sexy. it’s a really short skirt. and lixie’s like “OK???? BUT LOOOOOK???” IMGHSJD

horny on sight:

seungmin - it’s like you took a peek into his deepest darkest fantasies. short short cheerleader skirt, maybe even braless underneath the lil crop top. he’s dead. you’ve killed him. immediately is asking you if you’re cheering for him, or “one of the other guys?” and you’re giggling, saying it’s all for him. definitely fucks you and makes you scream his name just to prove it.

jisung - short circuits. he walks in and you’re like “surprise!!!” and he’s hard. instantly. just staring at you with those wide boba eyes in awe and shock. jesus. you have to literally shake him awake, pushing him back on the bed to ride him in your skirt and he’s just nodding, just going “yeah. yeah. keep the skirt on, please.”. definitely cums really fast but its ok bc hes gonna fuck you in the skirt again in roughly t minus five minutes.

minho - ok at first he’d find it cute. like aww, you’re whipped for him too? his cheerleader. cheerin’ him on. but then he’s looking at you, REALLY looking at you, and maybe you’ve got his number from his football jersey on your cheerleading outfit and oh god. it’s like you’ve marked his territory and he’s going insane. instantly pushing you up against the wall, pushing his hand underneath that skirt and if you’re wearing nothing underneath? he’s dead. he’s dying. ur not gonna feel ur legs after.

♡ juno

[pyrosomatic-metamorphosis]

no but bad considers himself the expendable one because he IS. he knows he can respawn. thats why he throws himself in front of all danger so the eggs dont have to- he can come back, and they cant.

but its not just respawn- lately, bad has been making some Concerning suggestions that he’s going to permadie, somehow. saying he’s gonna miss the eggs(despite his insistence that theyre alive/will be okay), that he’s expendable, and the Classic: “i dont want to die, yet.” He’s VERY casual about all of this - which can be chalked up in part to the uhhh extreme mental duress/devotion to his goal he’s got going on, but i dont think its JUST his self-sacrificial bullshit.

This isnt the first world bad has lived in. His lore includes a timeloop or a worldloop he was trapped in. he was worldhopping before that. ever since he met him, the only constant has been skeppy. This world is the first one where he hasnt had skeppy. I cant remember if bad explicitly discussed dying in any of those previous lives/worlds, but i would not be surprised if that was one of the things that forced him onto the next world. he knows that he can respawn; he knows there’s another world waiting for him. and, bonus, maybe the next world will have his skeppy. He’ll be okay, in the end. He’s expendable.

[whirlwindimagines]

‘If he is the sun, i’m Icarus’

Vash X Reader

a/n: I know this isnt my usual Fairy Tail stuff, but I am in love with Vash and have been dying to write for him. Sorry if its a little akward not the best at y/n and what tense to write it in? Still learning! This is just like 800 words of wanting to hold his hand lol Title is a lyric from Apollo by Faith Zapata which just sums up how I feel for him lol. 

Traveling with Vash hardly held dull moments, one moment the two of them were being shot at and chased out of town, or it was getting lost in the middle of the desert. But Vash always seemed to be able to pull you out of these bad situations, even if he was the one that caused them. A kind smile, a soft laugh, and a quiet but sincere apology, and you were hooked all over again. Following him without any regard for your own safety.

The two had been traveling for some time, leaving town before trouble started for once, and out into the sand dunes. You would never understand how Vash handled the heat in that big red coat of his, but his pace never faltered. Even when you slowed down after being too tired to continue walking, he’d slow his pace no questions asked. And the two of you would walk beside each other either talking quietly or enjoying the silence of it all. 

You admired his patience, he never complained even when you made him lose pace. Like now you could already feel yourself lagging behind, Vash hasn't said anything yet about it and all you could do is stare at his hand. A part of you just wanted to be brave enough to step forward and take his hand in yours, to walk side by side with him. But the logical part of your brain forced the thought to come to a stop, you couldn't take a risk like that. Force your feelings on to Vash? Be selfish, when Vash himself was so kind to let you travel with him. You would not take advantage of him, not like how so many have before.   

“y/n?” 

Vash had turned to face you with a questioning look in his gaze, you hadn’t even noticed you stopped walking. “Sorry! I think the heat is just finally getting to me!” your tone was light careless even, and it didn't look like Vash believed you. Smiling once more you rushed forward past him, “Come on now, the sooner we find a place to rest for the night the better!” 

Vash joined your side quickly curse his long legs! The two continue to walk quietly beside each other, you kept glancing at his hand, fingers twitching to reach out and hold it. You knew you were being pathetic about the whole thing. Shaking you head, you didn't notice the uneven surface in front of you. Slipping backwards with a yelp, just hoping not to hit your head. Instead of hitting the sandy surface, you landed against something soft but firm, a pair of hands resting on your shoulders one flesh and one metal. 

Looking upwards and back, you came face to face with a smiling Vash, “Careful now!” he said with a kind laugh, you relaxed into his hold enjoying it for a moment before pulling away, face heating. 

“Are you alright?” Vash asked clearly concerned, while you just shook your head, placing your hands on your face, “I think the heat is finally getting to me.” You would blame the suns in the sky and not the literal ray of sunshine standing before you. Vash let out a huff hands on hips, as he looked around. You watched curiously, placing your hands back at your sides while watching the blonde. 

“I think there might be a town around we could stop at and get some rest, and you out of the heat.” Vash said turning in a completely random direction and heading off, you could only watch with an eye roll as you followed after him coming to rest at his right side, you would never understand his sense of direction yet you always followed without much complaint. 

Your mind began to wander once again, eyes drifting to his hand. Shaking you head and slapping your hands to your face you really needed to get yourself together! Jumping in surprise when Vash grabbed your wrist and brought it down to your side to rest in between them, he looked at you curiously. 

“Uh the heat?” your voice unsure, hoping it would be a good enough explanation, “Right…” Vash teased releasing your wrist only to grab you hand and intertwine your fingers with his. Your eyes widen while Vash brought your intertwine hands up, between the two of you so they were at eye level. 

“A perfect fit don’t you think?” His voice was gentle, you could detect some insecurity in it while he stared at you then your combined hands. You let out a soft laugh, looks like you weren’t the only one that wanted to hold hands. Bringing their hands back down, you leaned into his side smiling.

“Like it was meant to be.” You were rewarded with a genuine smile and a light squeeze of your hand as Vash pulled you along. You knew truly in this moment you would follow Vash the Stampede to the ends of No Man’s Land and back if it meant seeing him smile and him holding you hand. 

You squeezed his hand back, holding on tightly. You didn’t care where you ended up as long as it was by his side. 

[patchdotexe]

doip. / 10.4.24: i was paying attention, i swear

von is here! hi von. what's your social security number

(nyx's fiance Von is now spectating! welcome to the Skeleton Crew, we're all insane. also i was running late because i had to see if vikingpilot was wearing the cat ears skin i made)

LAST TIME, ON STORM LORD'S WRATH!: i got distracted trying to stop pepper from eating cables. uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

im being so good at staying on task. recording means that im being held accountable. i will be strong i did however have to go chase pepper out of my room. tragic

oh no nyx what did you do. everyone is freaking out about something in the stables and nyx mentioned there's a surprise at the bottom of the stairs. oh noooooo hey dauble. dauble did you resurrect some horses. "horses" last night the horses were dead. this morning the horses are now. "alive". dauble is not elaborating. alidaar would really like dauble to elaborate. dauble casted animate dead! which is not a normal druid thing because im pretty sure dauble isn't circle of spores. im pretty sure dauble took a level in cleric at some point with their costume change but

alidaar is finally starting to twig that something is Up with dauble. took him long enough. arepo has nudged alidaar to go get silla whle he and dauble deal with the zorses! dauble is not explaining anything.

i love silla. bottom text.

the fun part abt being the recorded pov is that things like me googling "minecraft zombie horse" is on tape

"alidaar goes 'peem poom'."

(alidaar did Facial Expressions about the situation and i was struggling to find a corresponding emoji.)

im diagnosing dauble with problems. the bpd animal is activated (silla is riding with alidaar) HOW HAS IT ONLY BEEN LIKE LESS THAN A MONTH IN-UNIVERSE. WHAT THE HELL silla is hitting on alidaar a bit but alidaar has no fucking idea. dauble is rolling in their grave

uh oh. there appears to be a Situation on the road. apparently a town evacuated and the townspeople are having a scuffle about it. something happened with the fishermen? stuff's wack with water. --oh, shit, there's kids missing. none of em are able to head back for the kids. GOOD NEWS, ADVENTURERS ARE HERE

alidaar has put sacks on the zorses. we're normal. dont think abt how our horses are green, please

arepo is stuck in his mind palace. alidaar is dissociating. Dauble Is Driving The Bus

(GOD I DONT REMEMBER WHAT THIS MEANS. ITS BEEN A MONTH. alidaar was Attempting To Cope with the dauble situation, and i think arepo had the realization that "oh, no, dauble isnt normally like this. this was a recent change. Uh Oh" because he joined after dauble's magical girl transformation)

HERE COMES THE. WATER?? WAGON?????? okay . we are here to kill the water wagon. got it boss

Silla Has Despawned. goodbye silla. dauble is finally happy

(alidaar got silla to take the zorses and run for safety)

im very bad at theater of the mind when it comes to The Cone (my breath weapons) so we are battling on the overworld hex map. this is fine

I HAVE FINALLY USED MY CLOUD RUNE. I DID IT MOM

arepo's words of inspiration to alidaar: "You are being so normal about all this." wh. why does dauble have higher ac than alidaar. what happened WHY CAN DAUBLE CAST INFLICT WOUNDS? actually i think dauble has done that before. perfectly normal druid

i keep peeking at the sbk discord and everything keeps devolving further into chaos.

(skyblock kingdoms was having an event. the event was "rebuilding parkour civilization in skyblock". at one point everyone ended up in cat maid skins. i was trying very hard to not look at the discord but there were SO MANY MESSAGES)

we have remembered that we are able to incapacitate people. fuck your monologue you're getting tied up

silla: oh no, you're hurt! ;o; alidaar: eh, ive had worse :,D dauble: I Am Literally Dying

arepo writes down "find therapist" in his notes. i dont think any amount of therapy can fix dauble

oh yeah we finally got the title drop! [alidaar voice] what the fuck's a storm lord ..OH. OH THE STORM LORD IS TALOS. OH! LIKE THE GUYS THAT KIDNAPPED AREPO! OHHHHHH

im spacing out HARD. apologies for the state of these notes. zzz

(again. skyblock kingdoms parkour civilization. and also generally being out of it. i COULD rewatch the recording to get a better concept of what happened but i dont feel like listening to myself talk for 2 hours rn)

[alidaar voice] WOAH, ITS ISOMETRIC!

(we reached Leilon! the map is isometric.)

OH . DAUBLE IS NEUTRAL EVIL NOW. SWAG.

[enpr-ss]

1 HOUR LONG RUN?! HE WOULDNT FARM THAT LONG WOULD HE?

He doesn’t recognize the bony ravagers lol. “You gotta feed the ravagers they’re skins and bones!” LOL.

Also the amount of cards he has is just visually intimidating.

The joy in his voice every time loot n scoot plays.

He just can’t stop hitting these pressure plates. LOL HE THREW A BERRY INSTEAD OF THE COMPASS. dude needs to stop jumping onto the pressure plates. He’s just booking it out because he’s scared. And of course he gets bounding strides as he is being chased by a ravager to go right over the jump boost wall. HOW DID HE FALL IN JUMP BOOST?!? THERES LITERALLY A JUMP BOOST BYPASS FOR THE CHAIN PARKOUR. AND HE DOES IT AGAIN!!! DOES HE NOT KNOW ABOUT THE PATH? He could have made it on the second try but now the ravager’s there.

Ravager ping pong is always so funky to watch. What do you mean very hard to do with bounding strides etho please. THERES A BYPASS SPECIFICALLY FOR BOUNDING STRIDES. how does he fall into the same pit 3 times WITH bounding strides. HE GOT BOUNDING STRIDES AGAIN?!? AND HES GOING TO WAIT FOR IT TO END BEFORE GETTING OUT?!? WHY. I’m having a breakdown watching this. I’m losing my mind. Tango is also correct; there’s other ways besides the chain parkour and he has jump boost AND armor. He can take 2 ravager hits. “But they’re not blocked because you have jump boost, skippy” TANGO LOL.

Is this really our champion. The best player. The winner of phases 3 and 4?

“We’re going to get it first try” *takes berry damage* AND HE FALLS DOWN FOR FOURTH TIME. THE RAVAGER ISNT EVEN INTERESTED IN HIM ANYMORE BUT GETS LINE OF SIGHT BECAUSE HE LINGERED TOO LONG ON THE WRONG END. How does someone fall into the same pit 5 times. He was almost out of there. “How many times can I fail this?” “You’ve surprised me so far” Tango absolutely obliterating this man. Good. And he finally realizes the jump boost bypass. The regret in his voice. Delicious. He’s begging, weeping and wailing and cowering in the pit. Keep it coming this is fantastic. “I’m safe to come up now” as the ravagers wanders closer LOL. THE DUNGEON TRULY IS YANKING HIS CHAIN HAHAHAA. where are your Jedi mind tricks now Etho? Look at him yelling and pleading with the ravager. Pearl logging in just to roast him. We love it. NOW THERE ARE TWO RAVAGERS LOL. IM LAUGHING SO HARD IM CRYING. He’s overloaded with sounds and no one has any pity for him. We’re too busy laughing. Kangaroo Master LOL. NUMBER 6 HAHAHA

lackey on demand for 30 crowns honestly not a bad idea. LET HER IN!! LET HER KILL! 7 times. This is a farce. “That was a bad booping.” That llama idea by Pearl is brilliant. The shame, the humiliation of dying by being literally spat on. Definitely should be the path of the coward death. Meatball and Snausages LOL.

New plan to live in the dungeon? DUNGEON LET’S PLAY CUB HAHAHA.

AND TANGO GOES IN JUST TO PUNCH HIM. OH MY GOD. PEAK COMEDY. “I can’t believe this. It’s ridiculous at this point. What are you doing?” Eat your own words Etho.

AND HE’S OUT!!! AFTER LIKE 20 MINUTES. Is he literally going to go camp the berry bush. Just live in the treat or trick hut. I’m losing it. IS HE GOING TO RUTSY? I HATE HIM SO MUCH. 12 CROWNS AND 53 EMBERS?!?! DIE. “Just a little more berries and I’ll go just trust me IM GOING Don’t let Gem in” most pathetic man ever.

HES JUST BEELINIG TO ALL BERRIES LOL. AND THE RAVAGER IN THE WATER HAZARD IN THE CRYPT AGAIN. NOT AGAIN. NOT THIS CAMPING AGAIN.

“Oh no you might hit max clank soon” tango stop LOL. “Which year?” LOL. THE HAZARD BERRY BUSH IS INSANE. IT REGREW INSTANTLY TWICE. AND HES JUST THROWING COINS AND KEYS INTO THE LAVA.

AND HE FAILS!! AND DIES TO A VEX!! YAY!!!! GET HIM GEM!!! GET HIS ASS!!

A lava bucket at max clank! Making it worse for himself! Etho’s run was so long that the server died HA.

This run as long as one of my reaction posts.

[ticklyblues]

Across The Spider-Verse (arachkids) tk headcannons!!

saw this movie last week and ,,, oh my god i love them all so much i HAVE to write headcannons for them even though this isnt really the kind of thing i normally do

hcs under the cut ⌄⌄⌄⌄⌄⌄

Miles Morales

60% lee, 40% ler

Ler:

Second bigest teaser ever

Loves using his invisibility for sneak attacks

Always goes for the ribs first for some reason

Sometimes uses webs for light restraints if he's feeling mean enough

Prefers group attacks over going solo

"Wow I did NOT expect this much of a reaction!"

Uses electricity to give little tickle shocks (stolen from @/orchid-fics but it was too cute not to include im sorry)

Lee:

Is a literal potato bug. curls up if you even touch him

Kinda guy to scream "NO!!" a bunch of times

Turns invisible by reflex if he knows he's about to get wrecked

Has a hard time telling people he wants tickles so he just kind of sprawls out and exposes all his spots in hopes of someone taking the hint

Maybe he'll tickle someone just for payback if he's feeling spunky

Worst spots are his ears, armpits, hips, and thighs

Gwen Stacy

20% lee, 80% ler

Ler:

Absolutely EVIL

She totally coos at her lees like . look at her and tell me she doesn't

Does light and feathery tickles and then goes hard and rough out of NOWHERE just for fun

Prefers to make the lee giggle and squirm instead of scream

Brings you water after she's done

You can tell when she's in a ler mood cause she gets 10x more sassy than usual (literal nightmare btw it gets to the point where they just let her get it out of her system so she stops being such a bully)

She might be mean but she can tell when the lee's had enough

Lee:

More of a ler but she still has her moments

She thrashes HARD watch out

Snorts

Hides her face with her hands instead of covering her spots

Worst spots are her neck, ribs, and stomach

Pavitr Prabhakar

50/50 switch

Ler:

Oh boy he has FUN

The most teasy guy ever he pulls all the stops

"Honestly, didn't peg you to be a squirmer... don't worry, I can still work with this!"

Him and Gwen teamed up are the most awful (amazing) mean (great) duo ever

Guilty of using the same techiniques that kill him

LOVES to chase people down

Narrarates exactly what he's doing and what spots hes gonna go for next

Has a hard time knowing when to stop but takes the hint after he gets punched a few times

Lee:

Has zero shame in admitting when he's in a lee mood

Just like when he's a ler, he loves a good chase

Will attempt to crawl away but doesn't actually want it to stop

NEEDS to have his hands pinned down otherwise he starts hitting and shooting webs by reflex

Squirms and screams like he's dying

Worst spots are his stomach, sides, thighs, and knees

Hobie Brown

10% lee, 90% ler

Ler:

Usually doesn't join in but when he does he makes everyone SCREAM.

No one knows how he does it but he's the most evil most menacing ler to ever haunt the multiverse

"What'cha laughing at, mate?"

Techniques are different every time but he still manages to wreak havoc without fail

Unofficial big brother of the group

Switches spots CONSTANTLY and drives everyone crazy

Laughs along with the lee

Lee:

Not that ticklish so he doesn't really get much out of being a lee

However the spots where he IS ticklish are all really weird and out of the way

Can't really get anything more than giggles, but all of that excess energy goes into his extremely intense facial expressions and gasps

Is extremely surprised when something tickles badly enough to laugh because he doesn't think he's ticklish at all

Worst spots are his lower back, the spot where his arms meet his armpits, and his calves

WOAH GONNA BE HONEST HERE i loved making this i might end up doing some fics soon ?? idk schools out in like a week for me I'll have loads of free time