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#some more sick fic
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Get Souped!
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lotus-pear · 11 months
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i think you guys are onto smth..
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i unironically got invested in this HELP
#WHERES THE FIC AT IF SOMEONE WRITES THIS I WILL PAY THEM A HUNDRED DOLLARS😭😭#kunikida serving the country while dazai's serving cunt😔#dazai was born to malewife but forced to manipulate and i think that's the greatest tragedy of bsd#anyway some facts i would like to share abt this au thay i came up w while drawing!!#takes place in 1939 (start of wwii) and there was a mandatory draft that required one male over eighteen from each house to serve#both of them are still twenty two and had been engaged for abt two years before getting married that year#newlyweds! unfortunately kuni had to go fight and they were seperated :(#before the war kunikida was a math teacher at the local high school and dazai obviously managed the household and didn't work#he's hopeless at cooking and meal prep even w recipie books so they either get those prepackaged meals or kuni makes dinner when he gets ba#so like when he's making lunch for kunikida he normally just packs a basic sandwich w raw fruit#kunikida always appreciates the effort even tho hes probably sick of having the same thing everyday but he won't complain abt it#when kunikida joined the army he was relieved that the mess hall had better food than dazai#he was the only one in his platoon that never complained abt the food so his fellow soldiers assumed it was bc he came from a tough bg#when in reality he was just used to being poisoned on a daily basis from his dumbass husbands cooking and was hardly fazed from army ration#they write to each other although its more dazai sending and kuni receiving bc hes off fighting and doesnt have time to write back#dazai talks abt life on the homefront and how he has to grow a victory garden (everything is DYING HE CANT EVEN RAISE TOMATOES)#and kuni writes abt his fellow soldiers and how the war is going and when he thinks he'll be home and how he misses sleeping in a bed#ANYWAY yea thought i'd share sry for infodumping in the tags again#this post is for like the four ppl that care abt this specific flavor of knkdz so hopefully this gets four notes at least#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#lotus draws#bro sry for posting at two in the morning i couldnt sleep until i got this out of my head they have infested my brain
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icewindandboringhorror · 11 months
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I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :
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(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )
#tumblr polls#hrmm... a little poll perhaps.. about a subject I find interesting.. since this image came across my facebook today#still really not feeling that well. no longer shaking violently and such but I still feel weird and weak much more than usual#They did say my markers for like infection or inflammation were elevated but that they werent sure of the cause so hopefully#it's nothing too serious. they did also say a lot of different things can cause that thing to be higher than normal but didn't go into spec#fics of what. maybe some of them are relatively benign or something. I still havent felt much back to normal since#I got really sick that one time though. I feel fine on and off but then little bouts of feeling weird and sick happen. hrmmm#ANYWAY.. looking for small ways to be productive. such as little doodles on evil ipad or editing game videos#or posting polls or cat pictures or some other like not very labor intensive things#I WISH I COULD FOCUS on writing HHRGGhh... I need to finish my game.. it would be so freeing.. a project that's been looming#over my head for like 5 years even though througouht that 5yrs I've probably spent a total of 3 months working on it lo.. ANYWAY#I still partially really cannot beleive that people CAN see stuff in their heads. There's always part of me that's thinking like. well mayb#e everyone DOES see the same exact thing but we just describe/conceptualize it so differently that we think we're talking about#different things when we're really not. But I have been assured by people I've talked to about it that they can GENUINELY really see#stuff in their heads like as vivid as an actual picture in real life or something. And the other senses are neat too. Like for exmaple I#can hear in my head much better than I can see imagery. I still CANNOT hear vividly like as if I were listening to actual music out loud..#but I think it's developed more than my sight. AND interesting how this varies the creative process. a friend I was talking to on the phone#said they write by literally just watching stuff play before them like a movie. where my process is COMPLETELY different. AND that affects#the content/what details we focus on as well as our individual styles of writing have differences that can be traced back to that.. hrmm
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kanene-yaaay · 7 months
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The Benefits of a Restful Sleep (and other things that a friend can help you with)
Kanene's notes: In my defense, Dogday is way too cute and kind. That was his mistake. Now I just HAD to make an entire story where he is alive and the Player is both the most stubborn bean ever and the biggest softie to set a foot in the factory. That is it. That is the entire story. Warnings: Mentioned death as a form of reset, angst and mention of injury and blood. It's discussed but not too deeply and isn't the main plot of the story. Raspberries, nibbles, lots of teasing, hurt/comfort and roothing fluff. Reader is adressed with they/them. Around 9.500 words. Heavily inspired by @fluffymary 's wonderful, incredible stories. Take a look at them too :D
[~*~]
You were exhausted.
That was a problem.
Sure, tiredness wasn’t really a new feeling in your life when you looked at the big scheme of things. Even before you went back to your old workplace, it used to cling on your bones, to fill your mind with memories and to pull your spirits down at any time of the day when a kid’s laughter or flowers would remind you of everything you tried so hard to leave behind.
(And look where you are now.)
The constant ‘fighting for your life’ thing also hasn't been helping a lot lately. Adrenaline and the will to keep on living were perfect for the battles but could only get you so far when the feeling of danger and fear scrutinized all of your steps, stalking in any and every corner, waiting for the right moment to strike. Days and hours became a total mess and the longer you spent on exploring and surviving, the more and more things that were once important started to fade to a background thought in your head.
Food was one of them. Water. Sleep. The debris and destruction brought a lot of memories and enemies but hardly a safezone where you could actually sit down, breathe and rest for a bit. It was fine, though. The solution was simple and quick. 
Dying.
Sounded harsh when you thought about it in that way, to be honest. 
Resetting. 
Or something like that.
Not during a fight, of course. After the first couple of times, it quickly became annoying and no fun at all to have to experience all the chase and… other things more than once. However, on other occasions, missteps into an abyss happen and sometimes a bad calculation using the grabpack could be fatal (and more frequent than you should admit.) 
You couldn’t deny its convenience. In a blink you would wake up, not hungry, thirsty or exhausted, a few meters behind your previous location and then you would be ready to go until the pain of hunger or the feeling of being in a brick of passing out appeared once again.
It was not the best, you knew, but it was a good enough solution. 
It was fine.
(It was fine.) 
Especially now, when you have someone else depending on you to survive. Saving Dogday had been tricky and much, much harder than the alternative. Keeping him alive after that, during the smiling critters chase and the aftermath, even more so. None of this didn’t really matter, though. It was worth it. 
The beginning had been tougher. With all the emotions, the changes, pain (and how to keep going after all of that), going back to Home Sweet Home and getting into more trouble trying to turn on all the generators. The fact that, not very longer after getting into the Daycare, you found a new, clean fabric and a set of tools to take care of Dogday’s injuries was the perfect help, even if the coincidence of that encounter had bordered on a miracle that made your skin prickle in discomfort as you had stared at the sewing kit localized (placed) just a few meters away from you two. There was no way that this could have been accidental. 
(Ever since you set a foot in this factory not a single encounter, voice, tape or battle seemed a coincidence and the fear of the image that this puzzle was creating haunted your every choice.)
Nevertheless, beggars couldn’t be choosers. Even though Dogday stayed unusually quiet for a really long time after his injuries were taken care of, he still insisted on using it despite both of your strong suspicions, not wanting to be a ‘burden’, anymore.
You disagreed strongly with that word, of course. Not only because his knowledge of the place and the little shortcuts or hidden spaces had been essential both to escape from the hungry toys and to make your path confusing enough to mislead any pursuers you had was essential to your survival, but also because… 
Damn. 
You just really missed this.
Chatting. Having someone truly by your side. No second intentions or guesses or working around to earn a couple of moments of dialogue. Just a companionship and a fighter if needed, someone bright who could, just with their presence and company, help to keep your focus and your objectives in mind. 
Dogday’s voice was raspy and rough but his words were light and kind. He would insist on calling you ‘angel’ and gesture excitedly around when he was talking, pulling your attention back when you began losing yourself in your thoughts. He would help solving the complicated puzzles spread through the factory and hold your hand tight to hide the tremble of his own paws when you both went through somewhere too dark. He would joke and hold and help and you wished you could put in words how no trouble in the world could make his presence here not worth it. 
That is why you couldn’t afford passing out right now. That is why you kept pulling one foot after the other and continued your path to the end of this hell.
Unfortunately, the very reason that kept you moving forward was the same one blocking you from actually managing to reset your body and get over that tiredness.
The fact that Dogday cared.
He was smart and quite smooth too. That was clear after all the times he would ‘accidentally’ get in front of you when you managed to step a bit too close from a deepless hole or how he would suddenly remember a shortcut that would have you to deviate from the giant abyss you had been eyeing for a few moments ago or when he distracted you as he followed another direction, a light pull on your wrist and a inviting conversation on the tip of his tongue, the pit getting farther and farther away.
It was a bit endearing, you couldn’t lie.
However, when a badly placed hand of your grabpack successfully made you slip from a fatal high and you only had time to listen to a surprised yelp (or more like a ‘yap’?) before a giant orange arm held you close to a fluffy chest you were actually torn between hitting something in frustration and melting in the warmth.
Dogday smiled, looking down. 
“Ops, you almost fell in there, angel.” His eyebrow was crooked and his expression filled with tension and confusion. Yep. He definitely realized what was going on. That kind of sucks.
He started heading the other direction, taking a different path to where you were going. “You‘re really tired, aren’t you? Saving everyone must cost a lot of energy.” His eyes softened. You struggled to keep yours open, body inevitably relaxing with his voice and kind touch. “And, well, I don’t think you had a lot of opportunities to rest since you got here too, right? Ehehe. That is… a bit worrisome. Humans need plenty of sleep and we have been walking for a long time already!”
You have survived longer without it. It was fine. There were more generators that had to be turned on before anything else. Those were your priorities.
Dogday acknowledged the end of your sentence before shaking his head vehemently, his ears flopping around in an endearing way. 
“The generators have been turned off for a long time now, a few more hours won’t hurt. You are our priority, angel.” Dogday tried to not let his tail wag in adorableness when he pulled you closer to his chest and you let your head and eyelids fall with a really tiny, quiet sound for a moment too long before opening them and watching him in a stubborn manner. “And I think I know somewhere where we can hide for long enough before continuing.” 
He watched as you deviated your gaze, thoughtful. Almost there.
“Besides, my kind angel” he let his posture go, just a little. The exhaustion from… everything showing from the light of his eyes to the darkness of his mouth. Trusting had been what got him stuck but also what freed him. He could offer this human a bit more of it. “I-I really think I need time to recover. Sometimes it just… hurts.”
He looked down and you didn’t need to follow his gaze to get what he was saying.
Oh.
Oh.
That was what settled it. You nodded. But he had to put you on the ground. 
You kept your expression firm and ignored his playful chuckle and the way he only pulled you closer with your words, because if he kept holding you, there was no way you would not fall asleep instantly and you both couldn’t afford that until he got to that safe place.
With a huff and a beginning of a pout he acquiesced and put you on the cracked floor, getting your point. He had to hide his snickers with his paw when you wobbled on the same spot for a second before eventually gathering your strength back, feeling a million times more tired. 
Urg. Relaxing was a mistake.
“Don’t worry, it’s not too far from here. We will get there in no time!” 
(...)
Took longer than he expected for you to finally lay down, but it was worth it. The place was one of the old dorms so there were a lot of pillows and mattresses thrown around, a few somewhat still holding a good condition for use. With the help of some furniture and moving around, you managed to barricade the door and build a sort of nest hidden in a farther corner so that it would be really difficult to notice through any window. 
The human seemed ready to pass out at any moment, yawning and giving the door a last look, watching every creek and tear on the walls for anything that could be dangerous, even after all their previous care to make this place as safe as possible. Silly dear.
Dogday has always prided himself in being perceptive. Both because of the kids he once needed to watch and take care of and also because it’s important to notice and understand the details around your teammates so he would know when to help them.
(Old habits die hard, as it seems.)
And, yeah, maybe it had something to do with how long he spent without seeing a human or how he missed having someone (anyone-) who cared so much around. But he couldn’t really help to watch, prod and pick every little detail and gesture of yours around as if he was collecting flowers in a garden. Humans were so… expressive, and this one wasn’t different at all. 
Angel was fierce and determined, going silently and non stop through the facility and all their objectives with a focused mind and precise movements. Their senses and general environmental awareness were good, too, catching hints and dangers just a second or two after Dogday himself caught them, which, considering their small ears and eyes, was an incredible feat. 
Still, like a true angel, strength and kindness walked side by side with them. Dogday didn’t say that only because that person was the literal reason he was alive today, but simply because it was clear as water how much of a true softie you were inside. It was in the way they fired only around the small smile critters, avoiding to actually burn and kill them (even though he didn’t really know how he should feel about it), on how they carried and treated his wounds and how all their features - tensed, anxious and angry - softened everytime they looked at him. 
It was on the way that they walked slower to accompany him, amusing his rambles with pokes of fun and interesting additions and in how each touch or word was filled with tenderness and respect. He didn’t feel like a toy with them like some old employers had made him feel before or a failure as… others made him believe.
So, his companionship was extremely captivating and maybe that was why it hadn’t been really hard to notice how the little tiny hints and actions came together to form a quite worrisome image of how disregarding about their own safety they were. Jumping into fights, crawling into dangerous, small spaces without thinking twice (he couldn’t get them there, if he needed he couldn’t get them there-), following strangers’ orders and running over cliffs as if their life wasn’t the thing that mattered the most and Dogday would always be there to catch them when they fell.
(What did they use to do when he wasn’t?)
Even now, he huffed as the human slowly took off the grabpack while still not even lowering themselves on the mattress or trying to get comfortable even though they seemed ready to slip into unconsciousness at any time now. Alert to the very last second.
It felt a bit nostalgic, if he was being honest. At least helping someone to go to sleep was a kind of problem that he knew how to solve. 
With no further ado, he let himself fall on the soft pile with a ‘oof’, slowly rolling around the cleanest pillows they found and hugging the mattress as a loud, relaxed sighing fled from his mouth. His entire body seemed to untense with the unexpected comfortable feeling. How long had it been since he could just enjoy being surrounded by softness and safety like this?
His tail began contently thumping on the pile, another sigh leaving his mouth and making him forget for a moment his objective as he rolled more and more on the spot, the pure feeling of bliss taking over his senses until the sound of amused chuckles brought him back to reality.
He opened his eyes only to find an incredibly fond gaze looking right back at him. The absurd weight that haunted his friend’s shoulders seemed to have disappeared for a moment and, if he really concentrated enough on those kind eyes, it was like the rest of the world became unfocused. That is right! Dogday shook his head, as if cleaning it from his distracting thoughts. He had a mission to accomplish! Get the human to rest! No more fooling around!
“Hmmmm, It’s so, so, sooo comfy here!” Dogday controlled his voice so his playful tune wouldn’t show too much and give away his plan. He got a pillow and shoved his face on it just to highlight his words. “Like a kingdom made of clouds, where all the citizens get to lay down and rest all day, everyday and their favorite hobby is to cuddle and snuggle. Sounds like a nice place, don’t you think?” 
You agreed, snorting when two expectanting lights turned around and Dogday patted the spot right beside him, only smiling bigger when you pretended to roll your eyes and finally, finally, laid down, barely touching the pile before your body crumbled the rest of the way.
It was… really soft. Even more than you expected from such old furniture but that could be the exhaustion talking. A relieved groan filled the place and before you could process that it came from your lips two arms came and carefully pulled you to a bunch of even softer fluff, which automatically made you snuggle closer, hugging the pillow (friend?) and relaxing, body aching with how much tension flew away from it so quickly.
A sweet voice said something in the background, but all of your senses melted together with your muscles when a hand began rubbing your back, drawing light circles on your spine and following it to your neck, briefly massaging it before going back to the back rubs.
That nice voice kept talking and you could briefly distinguish the words ‘deserve’, ‘rest’ and ‘good’ before the hand got a bit too close to your side and you giggled. The hand stilled but it was okay, it just tickled, that is all. No need to stop. 
This was really nice, you kind of missed it. 
You snuggled more.
All of it. It’s been a while.
As the darkness of the unconsciousness started taking you away, an amused, fond ‘aww’ was the last thing you heard.
(...)
You woke up with a scare.
Nothing necessarily happened, but your body immediately tensed, in alert. Blurry eyes traveled with speed around the room in search for any kind of movement, the silence helping to amplify the sound of any enemy that could be closer. 
One second, two seconds…all you could pick up was the paused, calm snoring of Dogday still being deeply asleep.
Right. Safe. You were both safe.
You let go of a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding, blinking rapidly to scare the sleep out of your sight as you looked up, mind finally getting time to grasp the memories from last… (night? hours? day? irrelevant). The quick beating of your heart started to slow down to a normal pace and you laid down again on the mattress, now wide awake.
Dogday was still sleeping. That was good. He deserved all the peaceful rest he could get after everything that happened.
And, to be honest, it was quite amusing to watch him sleep. Each time he snored his big ears flopped just the slightest bit around and from time to time those little muffled barks would appear on the back of his throat and his tail would wag a bit, not so different from a real dog.
(He truly was a marvel of science.)
At one time you could almost swear he said a name, but it was so low that you couldn’t quite catch it.
Beyond all of that, you couldn’t deny how right Dogday had been, resting really did wonders to your body and mood. You could feel your mind clearer and your muscles less stiff, even if still quite sore. Also, it was made in a rush, that is true, but the soft pillow pile really was comforting enough that it didn’t make it any easier to get up and go on about your day.
Still, as always, there was work to do. It really wouldn’t hurt to get up in the vents and walk around a bit to see if there was any murder toy wandering close so you could attract them away before they could interrupt Dog’s sleep. 
It wasn’t anything really that urgent, however,… It felt weird not doing anything in this place, to deliberately choose to stay instead of to move. Letting your guard down last night had been literally the only thing you could do with how exhausted you were and having a trustful friend close by your side, but now? When you were more rested and nowhere close to the exit? The jittery feeling was already catching up to you. 
You tried to get up, only to be stopped by an arm closing on your midriff, a nose being pressed on the top of of head and nuzzling it with care before a raspy voice - you really needed to find some kind of oil or toolbox to help with his voicebox, sometimes it felt like he was always with a sore throat - glitched for a half second before coming to life in a quiet, slurred “Angel?”
Good morning, sleepy beauty.
Dogday huffed in amusement. Silence washed over you both once again.
A while passed and no more words were exchanged. Uh, probably went back to sleep already. You tried to carefully extract yourself from his hold. 
“Mm? What happened?” Dogday yawned, sounding a bit more awake this time. “Do we have to go?” He propped himself in one elbow, using his enormous height to peak over the hiding place and watch the door and windows, ears perking up in a search of any strange sound. “I’m not listening to any danger. This is a good spot.”
You agreed, feeling a tad bad that you woke up your companionship unnecessarily with your unrelenting thoughts. Nothing really happened, you assured, he could go back to sleep if he wanted. You could stay with the guarding shift.
Rubbing his eyes and yawning more, the sentient toy then changed his focus to you, noticing the slight drop in your tune, mind becoming clearer as he added to that detail the stiffness that went back in your shoulders. His brain tried to connect the dots.
“Did you have a nightmare, sunshine?”
No, not really. 
“What happened?”
It’s all just… too much thoughts. You wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep like this, not without a distraction. It would be the best if you got something to do, so he could go back to his nap. It was fine, you would stay awake in guard.
“I see.”
He laid back down, however, instead of letting you go and immediately go back to sleep, as you expected, he began massaging your shoulders, mouth turning into a pout when that didn’t make you melt completely in blissful slumber like last night, but at least got some of the tension out. 
Even if it felt like the human continued to hold onto every last drop of stress for some reason, refusing to close their eyes or fully relax. Knowing their current situation, Dogday could understand. But still, his friend should be able to enjoy this little chance of a rest that they’ve got. They were both so tired and finally had a good place to spend some good old lazy time without being worried about running for their lives or seeing nightmares at each blink of eyelids. It was not the best spot that the factory could once offer, of course, yet nowadays it was like a piece of heaven.
He wished he could help his angel to enjoy it. Yesterday they seemed so happy. But unless he could think in a good distraction…
A sudden thought then popped in his head, a memory from what happened the previous night. An idea.
Hm.
“Sunshine, do you like games?”
Games? Like… hide and seek or catch? 
Dogday nodded, looking eager. 
Yeah, you did. Even so, you don’t think that making up some ruckus will be good to keep up their hidden spot, well, hidden.
“No, no! This one doesn’t involve running or anything that could give up our location. Actually, you won’t even need to move from where you are to play it.”
Really? Well, it was worth a shot, then. 
“Alright. Do you remember what happened when we found those old rags in one of the corridors a few days ago?”
Yes, you did.
You watched as Dogday chuckled, like he knew something you didn’t and, with a crooked eyebrow, you stared at him, trying to remember the mentioned moment better. 
Nowadays his fur was no longer the bright orange that it once was like the old cardboards and tv episodes showed, but at least it got a resemblance of a cleaned state after using some good-enough rags you found on the way to one of the generators. You both did the best to take out the debris, dust and blood from him. It took longer than it should because the taller toy kept squirming and wiggling around in an adorable inescapable fit of giggles, not really being a big help as, in between his laughter, he kept claiming that it really, really tickled. 
As a good friend, of course, you just grabbed the rag he let fall after a bit of lil cleaning on his poor ticklish tummy and racked both hands up and down his sides, scribbling away while he hid his smile behind hands, muffling his loud crackles. The cleaning didn’t stop there and hunted each tiny spot and slight hint of dust off him with plenty of scratches, prodding and drumming everywhere your hands could reach, catching all the titters, snickers and snorts that danced in the rhythm of your fingers. Your own giggles did not take much longer to follow them. 
Dogday’s paw continued to run in a light touch on your back and suddenly a bolt of electricity jolted you up when your mind connected the memory of his playful demisse to what he just said.
Your eyes widened and his expression opened into a smirk, sensing the very same moment you got to the conclusion that you were about to get absolutely and utterly destroyed with tickles.
You tried pushing him away, one hand twisting behind to catch his wrist as the other hand fought to snatch his free one, which kept flying away from yours in a game of mouse and cat. 
“Wait, angel!” He couldn’t help but laugh, especially as your movements got more and more uncoordinated the longer they kept this little game, even before he truly attempted to do anything. A wobbly smile was already taking over your face, only growing bigger when every swipe he did in your direction - only to be deflected by your hands - made your entire skin tingle and prickle in anticipation. Each adorable reaction only assisting in making Dogday more determined that he choose the right distraction. “Don’t you want to know about the game? I bet that you will love it! I used to play and win all the time so I can teach you every special trick of mine.”
No, no, no, no! You knew exactly what he was doing! There was no such thing as a game!
“Gasp!” You were sure that Dogday would be dramatically putting a hand on his chest if it wasn’t for the rough housing, but sudden noise was successful to break your concentration. He used his trapped hand to sneak a quick jab on your side, ripping out a delightful screech before you slammed your back again on the mattress, both hands now in front of you, no longer moving, yet still ready to defend and attack. “I would never lie to you, my beautiful, beautiful beacon of light, the only and one sunshine, my angel.”
He was not going to succeed in distracting you again with those sugary sweet nicknames! You knew exactly what he was doing and you wouldn’t let him get you.
“No, no, you got me wrong, angel.” Dogday booped your nose, seeming like he couldn’t control himself with excitement and a smug kind of joy that only grew the longer you both stared at each other, waiting for the moment to strike. His tail wagged and he pretended to lounge at your stomach, stopping inches before touching it and drinking the way that a squeal escaped from your mouth, body stuck into a position between laying down and curling on itself, giggles quickly filling the room. Actually, you could feel yourself getting giddier at each second, completely aware that there was no way for you to get out of this and no other option besides wait for the next attack.
The way that this thought only made butterflies go crazy on your belly should be illegal.
Dogday continued as if nothing happened. “This isn’t the game. The game only starts when I start to tickle you, silly! And it is called ‘Try To Not Laugh’.” He managed to waltz through your defenses, his index finger and thumb catching your side in a grip way too light to even be considered a pinch. It made you try to squirm with a snort to the other direction, as if he just had unleashed a ruthless attack of squeezes on the spot. 
His grin glimmered and he let you go, chuckling. You could feel the phantom touch still. 
(Why did his paws have to be so fuzzy!?) 
“It means that you can’t giggle, squeal, snicker, chuckle, snort, chortle, shriek or laugh! No matter how much it tickles, itches or ‘feels funny’.” Dogday counted each reaction pulling up a finger and you tried to not let your face melt as he just kept talking, looking more and more delighted with how each word seemed to make you twitch on the spot, his paws clawing in your direction when he was done. 
Before you could think, he went for your neck, fingertips barely, just the slightest bit, grazing the skin before you catched his wrists and pushed them away, scrunching your neck as tiny tickly sparks spread like fire across your nerves. A sound akin to a keysmash left your lips and Dogday looked like you had just given him the best news of his entire existence.
He tilted his head and watched his own captured paws for a piece of moment before shrugging. He continued on with his explanation.
“In turn I will try my true best to make you laugh. And that can mean anything! I can fill your entire cute neck with aaaaall the raspberries that it could ever want, wiggle my claws on your ticklish armpits, play your ribs like a very lovely piano, squeeze your sides non stop until you’re dancing around like a wiggly worm, maybe even give your tummy a few scratches and scribbles, or, or even better! I can play ‘This little piggy’ with your toes over and over again until your sweet laughter fills this entire room like the sweetest melody. And then we can do it all over but with you giggling and snickering ringing free the entire time! Doesn’t it sound like a fun idea, my angel?”
Oh, you were going to die. Whether he decided to tickle you right away or keep the teases for who knows how long, you don’t think that your face would survive being under so much heat for so long.
Besides, this is not fair at all! He will win it anyway, you couldn’t hold on your laughter forever while he t-, while he attacks you.
“Aww, but, sunshine, tickling is hardly an attack!” His face got closer and suddenly you realized that he did not need any free hand to accomplish his first promise of tickles. 
With wide eyes you tried to roll away, but to do so, you would have to let his paws go, and you knew very well that the moment this happened, it would be a game over for you. For the way that Dogday grinned in your direction, he reached the same conclusion as well. “Also, I can’t even touch you, right now! I think you can win this.” Dogday wiggled his paws in your hold, as if proving his point. 
With (an eager) trepidation, you watched as his face continued to get closer, prying a couple of titters when his floppy, fuzzy ears brushed your own ears. He chuckled at your reaction, a mix of fondness and playful, fake frustration painting his words. “Sunshine, you’re already giggling? I will have to take my last words back, then, I don’t think this game will last too long, anymore.” 
Oh ho ho, he should just wait, because when you get him back you then he was going to see who was-
Dogday shoved his face on the crook of your neck and immediately began nuzzling the spot without a worry in the world, successfully cutting your threat short.
Wait! Wait!
“Don’t mind me, angel, please continue.” He huffed and puffed on the spot, shivers running in a hilarious cacophony across your every sense, almost ripping a squeal from your lips. Actually, just like his words hitting the skin, you could feel the way that snickers began pooling in your throat, waiting for any tiny chance to escape. You clamped your mouth shut, a muffled snort taking over. You were going to at least try to hold them in and try your chances at winning this childish game, for your own pride, if nothing else. 
He didn’t have his paws to tickle, right? I mean, how bad could it really be?
Dogday hummed, each word vibrating on the skin in an almost unbearable manner, making you want to jump away and at the same time let yourself get lost in the sensations. “What were you saying, angel? Please, don’t stop because of me! You know I always love to hear what you have to say.”
You shook your head, partially in an attempt to somehow escape from the tickling and partially to dissipate the energy that was building up on your system. Anything to not focus on the snickers bouncing freely in your chest.
“No? Not a word? Aw.” You could feel the fake pout the sentient toy did right before letting his features go back to that dangerous, mischievous grin. “I have a question for you, then! Do you know what is the tickle puppy favorite’s fruit?”
You knew a trap when you saw one, so you kicked your legs, trying and failing to let out any protest because you were sure that if you stopped pressing your lips in a tight line for even half of a second, there would be no stopping from the waterfall of laughter.
“Raspberries!”
A shriek almost made you lose when he unleashed the first raspberry, more and more of them being quick to follow right after. On the base of your neck, your collarbone, under your chin and in every inch on the unprotected spot. There was nowhere safe from the awfully buzzing that made every other feeling disappear, seeing to tickle every nerve and making tingles to run crazy in absolutely everywhere. He even grazed the back of your ears with a couple of raspberries, cooing when you tried to shrink and hide the spot by pressing them on your shoulder, only succeeding to leave the other side of your neck completely free for more nuzzles and tickles, an opportunity that Dogday was fast to take, taking turns in bashing every side of your neck in a tickly attention. 
Another quiet, muffled squeak painted the air.
Dogday lifted his head again, entire demeanor completely melting for a piece of time when he saw you (oh my stars, look at this amazing smile!) before that joyful light was back in his eyes. Once more, he tried wiggling his paws out of your hold, but your grip continued to be as firm as ever, your wobbly smile shining in a challenge.
Oh, you’re just so fun!
“Gasp! It seems like I am stuck! Oh no, angel, what will I do now?” His gaze then traveled to your stomach, and all the hints that softness had ever been present in his features instantly evaporated as his face became something more playful, even a tad devilish, with a hint of hunger. 
“My, my,” you didn’t exactly know why, but his voicebox glitched, jumping between a light taunting tune and his usual lower one. “Is that a delicious tummy that I see? Poor thing, it must be so cold to be shaking like this. Well, and what kind of friend would I be if I didn’t offer any help, huh?”
Your friend was quite tall and kind of clumsy when he walked around, too. Now, how that clumsy toy was able to, in a span of less than a blink, take a gigantic breath and immediately attack your stomach with it was a true mystery that you didn’t had a lot of time to think about when your entire body took a screenshot for a long, long second, ticklish sensations exploding in a frenzy, before your entire torso instinctively beginning to trash, loud peals of laughter jumping freely on the tip of your tongue, begging to be free. They cheered in excitement and only grew stronger when other smaller raspberries took their turn to explore every spot, every sensitive creek or place of your stomach, breaking more and more of your barriers, little by little. It took every single ounce of strength to not lose the game right here and there.
Dogday didn’t even pretend to be holding back, anymore. Right as you survived another tiny raspberry that got way too close to your side to be an accident, a nibble appeared, catching you so out of guard that it made your arch your back, legs kicking with adrenaline. But the tickly, light nibbles weren’t diverted, intertwining with tiny raspberries in a mischievous dance that increased your internal laughing into a tenfold.
That was when one of them hit the spot closer to your bellybutton and you couldn’t take it anymore. Your hands let go of his wrists to push his stupid smiling - so proud and so bright - face away, body squirming and eyes crinkling on the corners with mirth.
“I am free!” He laughed, pretending to not hear the tiny low titters flying from your mouth as you regained your strength, taking the breather as what it was. His ears twitched with every cute little giggle and he kind of wanted to immediately go back to bash every sweet, soft spot in tickles you until that beautiful laughter was ringing loud and free across the entire room and that soft, relaxed state you were in became so much common that he wouldn’t see you stressed ever again.
But he was going to wait for you to rest a tadbit first, that was the main objective of their game, afterall.
Feeling calmer, you looked at your friend, who jolted in the same place, seeing to get out of a trance. He recovered quickly and lifted his paws, easily slipping into the tickle monster persona as he slowly clawed in your direction.
“Now that my hands are free, I wonder where I should attack next…” He looked thoughtful, slowly bringing his paws closer and closer to your torso, wiggly fingers softly scrapping the ticklish skin, but not really drumming on it, not yet. “Maybe I should try your armpits first? Aw, but you were so jumpy when I squeezed your side that one time! And you seemed really excited when I mentioned tickling your ribs… Ah! So many options, so many options… We will have to try every single one of them, of course. What do you think, my giggly angel? Which one do I tickle first?”   
None! Absolutely none of them!
“None?” He tilted his head, knowing very well how cute he looked like when he did that. “But then … Oh! I see!” Dogday snapped his fingers and you were pretty sure that if this was a cartoon a lamp would appear shining right above that absolute, silly, mean, goofball. “You want me to tickle your legs!” 
What!
At your wide stare and sputtering pretenses of protests his smirk turned sharp, which didn’t quite help the anticipatory bolts of electricity that suddenly left you feeling even more ticklish than usual, trying to curl and hide your legs but feeling him dig more on your torso every time you did so. He continued. “That is why you didn’t stop kicking and squirming the entire time I was tickling your neck and tummy, right? Aww, sunshine, if you wanted my attention so much, you could’ve just asked!”
That was literally not the reason at all! Dogday!!
He hummed in an answer, turning around and easily pinning your legs by holding your ankles down, his touch so gentle that you were pretty sure that if you really wanted and struggled you could escape from it.
(And if that didn’t make everything even more endearing, you honestly didn’t know what would.)
Without wasting any more time, Dogday started squeezing the sensitive spot right above your kneecap, skillfully jumping from one leg to another unexpectedly, digging on the skin and following your leg around with no problem as a new round of kicks started once again, keeping up with the tickling. The ticklish sensations made your head spin, tingles spreading across your muscles and teasing all the nearest tickle spots, leaving them prickling in anticipation and a funny kind of energy that made every nerve of your knees crazy as more and more squeezes and pinches continued unmercifully assaulting the spot non stop. 
A sudden move and you yelped when your legs were lifted, his curious hand worming its way under your knee to lightly scratch the sensitive skin there. The touch was so incredibly fuzzy, so adoringly soft that the sudden change from the rough to light technique almost ripped a series of snickers from your throat without permission, the hilarity and urge to laugh taking over your every thought. 
Dogday continued scribbling and drawing shapes, leaving a couple of pokes here and there just so he could listen to those delightful muffled snorts.
(He would really love to listen to them more clearly, though.) 
“You really love this, don’t you, angel?” 
You barely sputtered out an answer before being obligated to clamp your mouth shut, uncontrollable laughter making your shoulders bounce as he took the chance to crawl his fingers upwards to your thigh, skittering them there for a couple of seconds before spidering them right back to under your knees, repeating the cycle for a couple of times before mirroring them on the other leg. 
“When I tickle you.” He scratched under your knee. 
“When I tease you.” He squeezed your calf.
“When I fluster you.” He swiped at the space right under your toes.
“It’s really adorable!” His paw stopped right on your sole and he pressed it, firmly enough that it didn’t tickle, still, for some reason you couldn’t stop your smile from becoming even more wobblier, the giddiness growing stronger and spreading in your every cell just like the heat that seemed to take over your face. 
“Especially because I can’t wait to hear aaaaall those cute giggles and beautiful laughter that you have trapped right there.” Suddenly, he raked his fingers up, from your heel to under the toes. A squeal filled the air. Dogday’s eyes shone, like an arrow findings the target. His fingertips curled, kneading on the skin. “That is why I have to apologize, angel, because I lied to you. That is a game that I just have to win.”
He then attacked.
It was less than a half of a piece of time, but suddenly your soles were being overcomed with scribbles, scratches and wiggling everywhere they could reach. There were digging fingers under your toes and a spidering that followed them to the pads, tweaking and scritching them all while curious pokes payed attention to the entire path of your arches, even if shouldn’t be possible for him to be tickling both places at the same time. Nevertheless, Dogday’s paw was so big that he was able to torment both of your feet at once while still holding them through all the resulting kicks those created.
And the teasing… Of course there was also the teasing.
“There we go! Oh my, oh my, look at you! You just can’t help being so adorable, now, can you? Awww, angel, you always get this… sweet expression when you are happy, so I like to call it your happy face! It’s delightful. The corner of your eyes gets all crinkly and your face gets all soft and your smile… your smile is the best part, it’s so bright! No matter the size or the time, it really feels like we have our own special rays of sun down here.”
He found a rather sensitive spot right above your heel and immediately concentrated on it with all his might, drumming and prodding there as if the salvation of this entire factory depended on making you laugh.
“That is why it was so easy to see how much you love tickles, sunshine. First when you were tickling me a few days ago and now. Since we started that game… you didn’t even ask me to stop and all while you simply never ceased looking so adorably full of joy like this! I could really spend the entire day just here, you know? Tickling you silly over and over again.”
That did it. The barrier broke. Loud peals of laughter were fished from your lips. Every sound and reaction filled the air in a frantic, unrestrained melody of mirth. 
Now, with them flying freely in the room, there were uncontrollable, hysterical giggles when Dogday decided to knead your calves up and down, those only being taken down by an unstoppable crackling, painted with one or two snorts, as his paws wiggled away to squeeze right above your kneecaps, taking his sweet, sweet time to give the ticklish skin under it a few swipes before moving away.
Finally, he let your ankles go, both paws resting on your sides, unbothered by all the squirming and protests that this simple act created, drinking in every reaction with a so fond, so tender gaze that it bordered on dotingly as you got another break.
You tried to take big gulps of air, but everytime your gazes found each other, titters grew anew, distracting you and leaving you in a constant state of a silly, giggly kind of joy.
M-Maybe he should reconsider! You laughed already, he won the game! That should be the end of this, right!
Dogday chuckled, fingers tuttering in their spot, curling and uncurling slowly, content to feel the trembling on the skin under them. 
“The end? But we just started! And you still got so much beautiful laughter trapped right here to show.” With his index finger, he highlighted his word by tapping on your belly, right in your bellybutton, ears perking at the screech this brought. “So many cute snorts and melodious shrieks that I would love to meet. What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t help to let them out, huh?”
A flow of words, more unintelligible than anything, fell off your lips. A mix of pleas,  threats, high pitched giggles and some indistinguishable sounds that could only be considered a true keysmash rather than a sentence. Dogday hummed in agreement and nodded his head as if it was all a well constructed and understandable sentence.
“I knew you would eventually see my point, angel. You’re such a delight, you know, that?”
He smiled, so kindly and caring, and then he digged.
His paws, big enough to cover your entire midriff drummed non stop, squeezing the lower part of your stomach while scratching everywhere they could reach. He stayed there for a while before his wiggling fingers crawled up, scribbling and pinching your sides unmercifully. They looked for any weak spot, any lovely place that would make you snort and squirm away and latched there with pinches and kneading until your back arched, only then moving back to tickle your stomach until you went back to try to curl yourself in a ball, starting the cycle over and over again. 
You felt almost high with laughter, the thought that it tickled, it tickled so so much and more than anything ever taking over your brain in sync with the loud, high pitched squeals and belly laughter (ha- Dogday would love that pun if you could say it to him) that chased after each other. After so much teasing, every tickle seemed to be accompanied by the brush of thousand of tiny phantom feathers that still tormented your stomach even when he moved away to your ribs, carefully pressing down on the bones and quickly scribbling with so much skill that it should be illegal the actual, loud crackle such a simple action created.
Your hands flied to hold his wrists, caught between pushing them away and pulling them close and, at seeing that, the sentient toy couldn’t help but feel himself melt and snicker fondly, barely controlling the urge to shove his face back on your neck and nuzzle and nibble the daylights out of it in a pure attack of cuteness. His tail was wagging so much that it dislodged a few pillows from where they were.
“Such a good friend. Such a cute, nice friend for me. For us.” The praises fell from his mouth naturally, your companionship too focused on keeping those happy reactions to really think too much about them. “You do so much to all of us, to me, and keep going above and beyond just to accomplish what you set your mind in. You’re brave and one of the strongest humans I’ve ever known. And there is so much kindness in you that I could talk the entire day about it! You saved me, you cared and tried and sometimes down here it feels like a nightmare but you… you make everything so much better, like a true angel. That is why I love this nickname so much. It really fits you.” 
You tried to answer, to say how much especial, strong and essential Dogday was for you as well, but every time a single coherent word slipped from your lips he immediately reinforced his attack, fully aware that if you said anything sweet he would inevitably let his guard down and you would be able to turn the tables, and he really needed to say all of that to you before that. 
His tickles were now focusing on keeping up the flow of starry laughter, watching them grow up to chortles and tune down into snickers as he scribbled in between each bone, keeping track of every special spot that pried a shriek from your lungs only to randomly attack it with prodding and poking, slowly fishing all kinds of joyful sounds that you could make.
He then buried his paws in your armpits, swirling the fingertips there for a few moments before digging energetically, fingers dancing and prodding every inch they could reach, which immediately made your arms come down with a loud chortle, head shaking and legs kicking at the sensation.
How was he so good at this?
Dogday gasped dramatically (not again-) and lightly pulled his paws in faux alarm, not really stopping his attack. “Oh no! Once more, you have trapped me!” Such a goofball. Such a silly, mean goofball and you could not wait to put your wiggly hands on and see how flustered you could make him be. “Dang, I really didn’t want to resort to this but I guess that I have no other option but to keep tickling and tickling and tickling on your poor ticklish pits forever and ever until the end of our days.” He then winked when he found your shining eyes. “But you would actually love that, wouldn’t you, my giggly sunshine?”
That was it. You were going to die. Right here and there. The playful tickles, the unrelenting teasing, the fond stares and gentle words… you could actually feel your entire body about to melt.
With a strength you didn’t even realize you had, you pulled your arms up to hide your flaming face, a pitched ‘eee’ sound mixing with the hysterical, absolutely uncontrollable laughter, your body rolling to the side and curling, shoulders bouncing with the force of each of your giggles.
Dogday let go of you, giggling together with your reactions, resting his hands on the ground and just observing, amusement and care clear as water in every trace of his features.
After a while, you felt a paw lay on your back, retracting for a bit when just that made you wiggle away, a new round of chuckles spilling, before it came back to rub your shoulders, touch kind and too firm to tickle. “Okay, okay, sunshine. I’m done. You can calm down for now.”
Laying down on the floor giggling yourself silly didn’t feel so embarrassing when Dogday’s own quiet snorts and snickers were quick to accompany you, especially since the rubbing really felt relaxing, making you melt on the touch bit by bit. 
After a few minutes, when a comfortable silence had fallen on you both, you rolled on your back, finally being able to stare at your companionship without feeling like you would explode. Dogday smiled bigger at your direction. He lifted a paw to gently wipe a tear from your cheek, not thinking too much about it.
“That was so fun! I didn’t know you were so ticklish, angel. You are almost as bad as m-” He stopped right in his tracks when a gasp and a new string of titters fell like a waterfall from your mouth and you pushed his paw away, fastly rubbing your cheek so the feeling of fuzzy tickles would go away. It was like the softest makeup brush had just touched your skin, and you had no idea that just this could tickle so much.
Dohohogday! You sahaid you werehe done! 
But your companionship didn’t answer. Astonished, he stared at his paw before looking at you again, gaze jumping from one to the other like he was watching a tennis match.
Suddenly his entire face brightened like the sun and he looked at you as if you had just said the funniest, most brilliant pun he had ever heard in his entire life.
“Aaaangel!” Every letter was bathed in pure, disbelieved delight.
No! You knew very well what that tune meant! No way! Nononono! Don’t you dare!
“Are your cheeks…”
Dohohogday! Don’t you come closer!
“Ticklish?”
Before you could push yourself from the mattress and jump away, there were two thumbs softly scratching on your cheeks, scribbling so lightly that it immediately made a giant smile take over your expression. Titters started to fill the air once more.
“Oh my… angel! This is adorable!” Dogday looked like he was about to bounce around the room with how much excited he was, his voice getting higher and glitching in excitement. “I can’t believe how fun and cute… You just… Ah, sunshine, I can’t help but!”
And before you could even blink, he shoved his smiley, stupidly fuzzy face right on your neck again, nuzzling there without a single worry in the world. His fingers kept  tickling your cheeks, sometimes even slipping to tease the back of your ears with a few scratches as he giggled in joy since he could literally feel the rumbling of your snickers. They twirled and spun in the air for much minutes more until his tickly attack from cuteness overload was finally finished and you both just kept layed down on the comfy pile, cuddling in between content sighs.
Dogday listened to your calm breath, saw how relaxed your entire body was and, according to the few sneaky peaks he had, saw that happy, full of mirth, smile was still in your face, leaving him melting in contentment, entire body relaxing as well. 
Perfect. His plan had worked.
Not that it was that big of a deal, but it had been such a long time since he had the opportunity to…
He was just glad that it worked. That he still got it in him. 
(Being playful. Happy. Helping the others. Being there when they needed him. Matter when it was necessary. Being silly and fun)
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t sense the hand coming until it laid on his head, playing with the fur there and scratching on that place right behind his left ear that never failed to make him embarrassingly become a mush of pleased hums and wagging tail. A low, sleepy voice crossed the air.
You said you would take him out of here. It’s a promise, Dogday.
How his angel knew exactly what to say was a mystery to him. And, it didn’t quite hurt, but his entire being ached at those words. His smile was sad and he was glad that the human couldn’t see as he blinked quickly, eyes suddenly moisty. “Alright.”
There would still be some revenge when you woke up, though. Be ready.
And that reminded him so much of others playful, sleepy conversations he had before everything happened that it ripped a surprised laugh from him. He tried to look up to see the very much likely mischievous glint in his friend’s eyes, but a few more purposeful scratches turned him right back to a content puddle. He nuzzled the human a bit more. “Sleep well, angel.”
You too, Dogday.
(And sleep well they did. Lost in a peaceful rest as the entire world outside left them be.)
[~*~]
Random fun facts!
-There is a parallel I made by mistake between CatNap and DogDay and the whole 'trusting and following the being that saved your life'. It's not too deep and Dogday isn't as bad as Catnap but that was an interesting thing I noticed :D
-Different from the reader, Dogday is more used to the time down there so he has a good grasp when day and nights happens in general.
-I am actively ignoring the plotholes here about food and water here. Ya know when you have to poke holes in a lid so the bugs in the container can breathe that is what I doing kjhgfdfghyhgfd
-Nothing to do with the fanfic but I kept listening to this song when I was writing it and I think it's cute.
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al-luviec · 2 months
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I got so insanely mad while drawing this
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+ closeup and normalness
#alek art#zane julien#previous master of ice#ninjago#lego ninjago#2024#aka the scene i wish we got in snake jaguar ...#zane is like 30 here#im mostly thinking about dr juliens perspective on this night. we have very little to go off of but he was very weirded out#random very sick old man shows up at your door and takes an “interest” in your son. he isnt even over for an entire day. with him comes col#he was striken with winter and something about him felt off. he leaves without a word. after his arrival your son begins acting weird.#then another old man arrives. asking for your son. wonder what happened there#for anything about passing on powers or losing them its always some big event... hm#i think the previous master really did need shetler. we know he was old and died shortly after the power giving. i dont know what about#zane caught his eye. i do think its very interesting that this man of few words was so obviously fascinated that dr julien noticed.#dr julien isnt the most socially aware and in the little bit he said about the previous master... he sounded concerned#imagine weirding out the weirdest man alive#i think zane caught on too. he felt eyes on him the entire night. they ate dinner with the man.. gave him shelter... but he felt he wanted#more. sometime that day he gave zane the power of ice. which effectively changed the course of his entire life. zane and dr julien hadnt a#clue what happened. 'yesterday a man arrived' so not even within a day did he see zane and decide that he was the one#thinking about how zane acting like his self now is 'strange' and was out of the ordinary. what was he like before? how do you even pass a#power down. we see people get their powers stolen and its always a spectacle and its so exhausting and so on. how did dr julien not see#anything. there was no questions? he just noticed the previous master found his son interesting and then he left ?#goddddd im insane i wanna write a fic about zane pre series
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flowercrowngods · 2 years
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in which steve is sick, eddie is in love, and floor time is being had
Eddie is in the kitchen when he hears the sound of footsteps approaching him. The smile is on his face before he even turns around to catch a glimpse of Steve, gloriously disheveled from all that sleep he’s been catching up on. He’s wearing one of Eddie’s big, fuzzy sweaters that Steve always hogs when he’s sick — which, thankfully, isn’t all that often —, a thick pair of sweats and mismatched socks.
Sickness is the time to wear mismatched socks without judgment, Edwin Munswin, Steve had huffed the first time Eddie saw him with a runny nose and ridiculous socks that definitely didn’t belong together. It had been the first time he admitted to himself that he was absolutely gone for Steve Runny Nose Harrington.
And so it doesn’t come as a surprise to him that his heart stumbles in his chest and the smile on his lips widens. Steve might hate being sick, but Eddie can’t really help but love him even more when he gets like this. When Steve allows himself to be a little weak and for Eddie to take care of him.
“Hi, sunshine,” Eddie says, turning down the heat on the stove to go over to his Stevie, wrapping his arms around the blanket Steve still has around his shoulders. “Sleep well?”
“Mmh.” It’s nothing more than a raspy grunt, a pathetic little noise as Steve cuddles further into Eddie, seeking out his warmth and comfort so freely that Eddie presses a kiss to his slightly sweaty forehead. “Missed you.”
“I’m right here,” he promises, running a hand up and down Steve’s back. “Just made you tea while the soup is warming up. Because you’re gonna have to eat.”
“Okay,” Steve nods, sounding solemn as he does, and Eddie wants to laugh. Gods, he’s so in love, it’s disgusting. Ridiculous. Absolutely laughable. “Thank you.”
“Of course.” A whisper, another promise, another kiss. He unwinds his arms and looks back at the giant pot of soup he made yesterday. “Do you wanna go back to bed or stay here?”
“Here,” Steve sighs and promptly sinks down the counter until he’s sitting on the floor, looking up at Eddie with those beautiful brown eyes, so big and and full of love that Eddie can’t resist ruffling his hair, which earns him a little giggle from Steve.
Oh, right, he’s had the good stuff prescribed from the doctor. This is going to be fun in a few hours.
“You ridiculous man,” Eddie murmurs, trailing his hand from the crown of Steve’s head down across his cheek all the way to his chin in a gentle caress.
“Go back to your soup, you most ridiculous of men,” Steve says in retaliation, but he reaches for his hand to hold as Eddie returns to the stove.
“Technically it’s your soup.”
“That’s what I said.” Eddie looks down to see the most adorable of frowns on Steve’s head, and his heart explodes a little in his chest.
He snorts and squeezes Steve’s hand. “Sure is, baby.”
“See? I’m smart sometimes.”
“No argument from me there,” Eddie says, and he means it.
A hum comes from Steve and then he leans his head against Eddie’s leg. “You’re so nice to me, Eds. I like that you’re nice to me.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then it’s quiet, and the weight of Steve against his leg becomes heavier by the second to the point where Eddie is pretty sure Steve’s fallen asleep again. He doesn’t dare to move, but dear God he wants to laugh, he wants to cry, wants to scream at the world how much he loves this ridiculous, adorable, possibly delirious and high on cold medication man who is wrapped in his blanket on their kitchen floor.
“Stevie,” he whispers at last, the soup hot, the tea just cool enough, and cards his hand through Steve’s hair to wake him. “Sunshine, wake up, I have soup for you.”
“Soup?”
“Soup.”
“But I love soup.”
“Then I have great news for you,” Eddie laughs and tilts Steve’s head up so he’ll meet his eyes. “It’s plenty, it’s warm, and you can have some. It’s right here.”
“You made me soup?”
“Yeah, babe,” Eddie chuckles, his heart tearing itself apart at the way Stevie looks up at him with such wonder and awe and love. “I made you so much soup. All for you.”
Steve nods, thinks for a moment and then looks up at Eddie again. “Can we share?”
“You wanna share your soup with me?” Eddie says, crouching down so he’s on eye level with Steve and can brush a kiss to his forehead again.
Steve nods again and reaches for him, clinging to Eddie’s sweater — well, it’s Steve’s technically. “Wanna share everything with you.“
“Even your blanket?”
Steve smiles and nods again, lifting one arm to invite Eddie in, which earns him a laugh. “Alright, let me just…”
He grabs two bowls of soup, Steve’s large mug of tea, two spoons and two pillows from their chairs so they can eat the soup on the floor without uncomfortable heat in their laps.
Later, when soup is but a distant memory of half an hour ago, Steve lets himself fall to the side and slumps into Eddie, head nestled on his shoulder.
“Sleep time again?” Eddie asks.
“No,” Steve slurs, definitely already on his way to half asleep. “Just. Just love you.”
Eddie hums and leans into Steve in return, warm underneath their blanket, surprisingly comfortable on the floor, backs against the counter. “Just love you, too, sunshine.”
And if Eddie closes his eyes, too, lulled into a sleepy state of comfort and warmth, then that’s just one more thing that happens with a sick Steve around.
In sickness and in health, he thinks with that same smile on his lips.
for @seidenbros, i besmooch your forehead with this 🌷🤍
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casscainmainly · 2 months
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hii, do you read fanfics? and if yes, do you have any fic recs for cass, either as a solo character or focused on her relationships with the rest of the batfam?
Hi!!! I'm not the most well-versed in fanfics, but I have read some great Cass ones. These are mostly going to be solo Cass focused, since I haven't found that many great ones with the Batfam.
Volving by @shobogan
This short fic kills me everytime. Set after the end of Batgirl (2000), it's honestly the conclusion I wish we'd gotten. The dialogue for Cass is on point, and I'm quite picky about Cass dialogue! I also recommend shobogan's equally amazing Equinox, which is a Brenda/Cass story.
Hot Girl Shit (The Feminine Urge To Die Young) by @havendance
An astonishingly clever fic that places Claire Clover (Gotham Girl) into the events of early Batgirl (2000). No knowledge of Claire is strictly needed though, the author makes it really easy to follow along. The parallels are unmatched, the feels are tremendous, it's just a great fic everyone should read. Also recommend havendance's Cassandra Cain vs. The World!, where Cass has to fight Kon's seven evil exes (it's as hilarious as it sounds).
Nourish by Ptelea
This fic is as sweet as its theme - Cass gets a moment with each of the Batfam, bonding over fruit. The writing is beautiful, and the Jason section in particular is stellar. The fluffiest fic on this list by far!
what's past is prologue by Icestorm238
Cass only appears in the sixth story in this series, but the entire thing is worth reading. A Dick-goes-back-in-time-to-save-Jason fic, the character twists and turns are so good, and there's an excellent Steph-centric story here too! Even if you don't care for the other characters, Cass is incredibly well-written in her section, a rarity for whole Batfam fics.
When Pinioned Birds Take Flight by @iowriteswords
This series (Robin and Other Flightless Birds) is well known, but this story is the most Cass-focused, and doesn't necessarily require knowledge of the prior fics. Though this is an AU, Cass is anchored in canon, and her relationship to Babs in particular gets a lot of development in the last part of the fic.
Not as Cass-centric as any of these, but bad signal by prismatical is an excellent story with some great Cass moments. The fic is definitely more focused on Dick, Jay, and Tim, but Cass isn't just a prop here and is actively involved, so I'd still check it out!
I wish I had more recs, I know there's some great Cass stuff out there I haven't found yet. Thanks for the ask, hopefully other people can chime in with their own recommendations!
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johaerys-writes · 3 months
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I've officially written more than half a mil of patrochilles 🥲
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findafight · 1 year
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Why are some of y'all making Robin be so mean to Steve and having them friend break up or their relationship irreversibly damaged for the sake of romo ships why would you do that to them what the hellllll literally biggest case of She Would Not Do That ever.
Sure Robin will rag on Steve but it's friendly! It's as friends! Steve does the same to her! He literally immediately dragged her crush as soon as she came out to him! Their bickering is mutual! They want to combine!! Into one!! Being!! They care so much about each other Steve wants Robin to be happy Robin worries over Steve's injuries.
Why are you making her ignore him or not realize something is wrong with him? Stop trying to replace her with other teens or a romantic interest for Steve! If your (usually whump) fic cannot function with Robin actually being Steve's friend and him talking to her then like. Send her away to visit an old sick relative or something and unable to actually be there and help him. The stobin angst can come from her being unable to actually do anything besides talk him through it to help, being so far away. You don't! Need! To make!! Her mean!! To Steve!! Sure they can have conflict but that conflict should come from a place of deep care, not apathy!! What the fuck!!!
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doggolol · 5 months
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HE ALMOST SURRENDERS TO THE KISS
HE WAS SUPPOSED TO SURRENDER TO THE KISS
IM SOBBING
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fuumiku · 6 months
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Day 5 : genderbend
Only doing this did I realize just how androgynous both of their features are. Listen we got gal pals with Marcille getting carried away and oblivious & overtly touchy feely as always, gay rivalry but they still gossip together like true coworkers united in haterism (I was going to draw Marcille holding him at first but forgot lmao), and Chilchuck openly holding back murderous intent. In short nothing changes much but it���s fun to picture. Braiding hair is already a love language of theirs, if she could do it to him it’d slap…
My genderbent names for them are Marcel & Cherchick (Chick is apparently an actual name, a diminutive of Charles?? Incredible and very convenient. Goal of the lockpicking onomatopoeia still being there success) I have a whole marchil AU plotline for them genderbent actually... It’ll be long so I’ll put it in a reblog addition from my sideblog
You can tell what order I did these in because time and steam ran out on me lol. My pencil is also walking out on me my lines look so crusty, sobbing…
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galaxostars · 26 days
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“Thank you for keeping your promise.”
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inspired scene from the fic “Beyond the Heartbeat” by @starsworth
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torscrawls · 2 years
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Cold Snap
Bruce tries to protect Phantom during his first real mission but he soon finds out that Phantom needs less protection than he thought. 
Words: 4 307 
Can be read on AO3!
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"Phantom. Stay back," Bruce said gruffly as he pushed the Justice League's youngest member behind himself and out of the line of sight of Poison Ivy. She was currently calling forth a small jungle in the middle of the street; vines forcing their way up through the pavement, stems and roots rapidly growing up the sides of the surrounding buildings as they sprouted a copious amount of leaves and flowers.
Predictably, Phantom immediately tried to protest, "It's fine, I can–"
"No," Bruce cut him off as he drew a batarang, "she's dangerous."
Bruce gritted his teeth. Of course Ivy had to show up when it was just him and Phantom on the scene, and unprepared for a confrontation to boot. Bruce had been showing Phantom around Gotham—not giving his new son a tour of his place, no matter what his other children said—but because he wanted Phantom to have the tactical advantage of knowing his surroundings if he ever had to fight in the city. Which proved to have been a very valid point, considering their current situation.
It would be a tough fight to go head to head with Ivy while keeping Phantom safe at the same time. At least the civilians in the area had almost all completely fled by now; routine and repetition really did wonders for the effectiveness of evacuation.
Phantom scoffed. "She's just producing a few flowers. This isn't the first time I've faced someone who's controlling plants, you know?"
Bruce was now positive that Phantom wasn't used to fighting real threats and was severely underestimating the danger. The young ghost had been a part of the Justice League for a fairly short amount of time—coming with them on missions and helping out where his specific skill set was required—but it was enough for Bruce to come to the conclusion that he was an enthusiastic teenager with a lot of potential in the sneaking-around-undetected-business, but he was generally a bit too impatient or just plain untrained to make full use of his potential.
Then again, he hadn't been involved in a full-blown confrontation since he joined the League, but what little fighting Bruce had seen him do was sloppy and more haphazard than he would have liked.
Bruce might have made a mental note to offer some hand-to-hand training for the boy as soon as they had the time to spare. Only to make sure he wasn't a liability in the field. Of course.
But to do that Bruce needed to keep him safe, so he tried to put as much seriousness into his voice as he could as he growled out, "This isn't up for debate, Phantom."
Phantom's retort was drowned out by the deafening sound of a car getting crushed beneath a mass of twisting vines and then by Poison Ivy's voice ringing out across the street, "Enough with all the pollution! Enough with all the destruction! Enough with—"
Before Bruce could stop him, Phantom had called back, "Isn't that a bit ironic considering what you're doing?"
Ivy's eyes fixed on him and Bruce swore under his breath. Of course he had to call her attention to him. Of course. "And who are you supposed to be?"
"I'm Phantom! It's…not nice to meet you, but, you know. Hello."
That seemed to stump her for a second before she laughed. "I like you. Too bad you sided with the wrong side."
Phantom crossed his arms over his chest. "You're the one hurting people and destroying things."
Batman sent him a warning look, trying to get him to stop antagonizing her.
If there was one thing that was good about Ivy, it was that she tended to at least be possible to argue with, to try and find another solution. She did what she did out of a misguided sense of justice, not to simply destroy and hurt. But that also meant that Phantom shouldn't needlessly push her.
She heaved a sigh and shook her head, looking very disappointed. "If that is how you want to view things. Then I guess I have to hurt you too. And Batman, of course."
Ivy added the last part with a wink in his direction and Bruce's frown deepened as he raised his batarang and breathed out to steady himself, and then he stopped. He frowned as he took in the way his breath was misting in the air in front of his face. In the middle of July.
And now that he thought about it, he did notice that it was an unmistakable and sudden chill in the air. He hadn't noticed because of his thick armor and focus on Ivy, but it seemed like they might have another threat on their hands. He cast a quick glance around to try and spot the new variable in this increasingly unpromising equation, and that was when he noticed that Phantom had gone very still at his side.
Bruce risked a quick glance down to check on him, not wanting to take his eyes off the enemy but needed to check that their young member was okay. He didn't have time to babysit him right now, but he couldn't just look the other way if a kid was panicking right next to him. Especially a kid that Bruce had indirectly dragged into the situation himself and was partially responsible for. So he said, in a voice that was only slightly gruff, "You don't have to be scared. I'll protect you."
It came out less reassuring and more annoyed than he had been aiming for, but hey, at least it was something. Bruce privately thought he was getting better at this whole comforting people business, but then Phantom shook his head. "I'm not scared."
Bruce opened his mouth to say that it was okay to be scared, that he knew Phantom wasn't used to fighting real battles against strong enemies, but before he could say anything Phantom spoke again, and this time it was with an echo and a snarl and loud enough that Ivy would be able to hear, "I'm angry."
That… was not what Bruce was expecting him to say. "What?"
All thoughts that the sudden drop in temperature could be caused by a natural occurrence flew out the window as Phantom's stillness seemed to spread—both through the ghost himself and through the environment around them—and goosebumps broke out all over Bruce's body as the temperature dropped even further. It came from Phantom.
This was unlike anything Bruce had seen from him before and he hated to admit it, but it was an unknown, something he hadn't taken into account, and he decidedly did not like it. So he turned to his companion and asked, "Phantom?"
But Phantom didn't have time to answer before Ivy spoke up, "Well, if you won't listen there's only one way to make sure this all ends…" She raised her hands and with them, all the vines surrounding her rose up too. "I have to take control of everyone's minds and make them respect nature!"
Bruce cursed under his breath as a cloud of spores erupted from the flowers around her, immediately starting to disperse in the wind as it carried the cloud deeper into the city, and thankfully away from him and Phantom.
Bruce threw his batarang at the closest wine, not waiting to see it connect before throwing three more in quick succession.
"What is it with you plant-people and mind control?!" Phantom growled out from next to him, and his voice was no longer anywhere close to human.
A shudder traveled down Bruce's spine and he couldn't tell if it was due to the sound of Phantom's voice or the sudden and steep drop in temperature, making the surroundings, impossibly, even colder.
He could already feel numbness spreading through his fingers and toes as he started shivering as a chill settled in, deep in his bones and much too fast to be natural. Bruce threw another batarang and watched as it missed its mark.
"Phantom!" Bruce barked out as he looked to his teammate and the blooming frost that branched out from where he floated, looking like deceptively beautiful and delicate latticework.
"Aww, what a pretty ice-show," Ivy cooed with a laugh. "Let me take Batman here out of the picture and we can talk. Just the two of us."
A vine shot out towards Bruce and he cursed himself from getting distracted. The cold surrounding him made him slow enough that he wouldn't be able to duck in time, he just had to trust that his armor would protect–
Or not.
The vine suddenly stopped in mid-air, overtaken by ice.
Phantom rounded on Ivy. "How dare you threaten my friend?!"
By now, the air was cold enough to hurt going in and Bruce had to struggle not to gasp as his shivering turned into painful shaking. It was cold and it was all his brain could focus on. Cold cold cold cold—
Bruce managed to convince his legs to move enough to take a couple of stumbling steps away from Phantom, hating that the action wasn't a conscious decision, and hating eve more that it left Phantom's side vulnerable. But his colleague didn't seem to mind, instead it was Ivy who looked suddenly exposed and unsure.
And Bruce couldn't blame her, and he definitely couldn't fight like this; while having to keep an eye on his ally at the same time. He needed his head clear, and to do that, he needed Phantom to calm down and stop whatever it was he was doing. Preferably now.
"Phantom. Calm down," Bruce tried again through chattering teeth, "You have to stop this."
But Phantom didn't seem to hear him, or if he did he ignored him, as he kept addressing a wide-eyed Ivy. "You have nothing on Undergrowth, and I won't allow you to destroy the city. It takes ages to restore the damages caused by the roots."
At the end of the sentence, Phantom's eyes blazed blue and Bruce realized that he couldn't remember a time in his life where he had ever been this cold. But wait… Maybe he wasn't cold? Bruce realized that he almost felt warm on top of alarmingly tired. Bruce blinked. That… was a bad sign, wasn't it?
When he blinked again he got distracted by the sight of his own eyelashes laden with frost, and then, again, by the sight of all the plants surrounding them suddenly freezing in place. Bruce watched in horrified fascination as a second later, they all turned brittle and hard before crumbling to pieces, and he realized—to his horror—that despite how cold he felt, Phantom was somehow protecting him from the worst of it.
His aching eyes landed on Phantom where he floated perfectly unaffected by everything going on around them, and even Bruce's struggling brain managed to come to the conclusion that he might have severely misjudged Phantom's skill set and what he was capable of.
It hadn't been Phantom's safety he should have been worried about
Ivy seemed to share his conclusions as she didn't waste any more time before turning and beginning to stumble away.
Which proved to be a mistake as it prompted Phantom to move, and with him all the pressure, all the focus of the sudden all-encompassing cold moved as well. Like an avalanche rolling down the street, unstoppable and terrifying.
Ivy stopped, frozen to the spot as he approached, wide eyes fixed on Phantom's form, and Bruce couldn't tell if that was because she was actually frozen to the ground, or if she was simply frozen in fear.
And then it was as if Phantom shed the burden of all that heavy power, and in an instant the slow inevitability of his movements switched to swiftness and Phantom faster than Bruce could follow, faster than he had ever seen him move before, and in the blink of an eye he was in front of Ivy and with his hands raised towards her—his expression was completely blank and deathly cold as his normally lively eyes held nothing but ice.
Bruce felt a sudden dread twist his gut.
What if he was about to kill her? He couldn't allow that. Not while he was there—he couldn't just stand by as the League's youngest member become a murderer. A voice in his head whispered that he apparently knew nothing about his team member and that Phantom might very well already be one.
How he managed to get his aching throat to produce words was beyond him, but he did manage to croak out, "Phantom, stop!"
And—this time—thankfully, Phantom did.
He tilted his head in Bruce's direction with a questioning look in his eyes. "Shouldn't I capture her?"
Capture her. Of course. The relief he felt at that barely registered beneath the mind-numbing cold and even if he wanted to, he couldn't give an answer as his shivering lips and hacking teeth refused to form any more words. Instead, he settled for gesturing with a shaking hand around them and to his throat, hoping that Phantom would catch on to what he meant.
Phantom frowned in confusion for a second before his eyes widened with sudden realization. "Oh, right. Sorry. Wait a second."
And, just like that, warmth started to spread across the street and across Bruce himself and he could feel a painful tingling starting up in his fingers as they came back to life.
The next breath he took almost burned on the way down as his frozen throat thawed.
Phantom looked the same as ever, as if controlling the very climate of a whole street was nothing to him, as if commanding the power of a tundra, an ice storm, was nothing to him.
Maybe it wasn't.
Ivy sank to her knees and Bruce would have followed her if he hadn't managed to lock his knees at the very last second, a skill honed after countless times of staying on his feet for far longer than he really should have.
Bruce forced his throat and mouth to work. "Don't hurt her."
Instead of answering him, Phantom turned to Ivy and asked, "Will they be okay? The people you mind controlled?"
She nodded. "Yes. It will wear out in an hour and they will be unharmed. I won't ask them to do anything. Please, you have to believe me, I just wanted to help—"
She stopped speaking abruptly when a Phantom moved, and Bruce had a second to tense up before he saw that Phantom simply crossed his arms and nodded as he said, "Alright."
And it felt like a judgment.
Bruce let out a slightly unsteady breath. He had thought he had become used to powerful beings, what with aliens, literal superheroes, and living legends being on his team, but this was foreign in a way not even the aliens they had encountered were. This was foreign to life itself.
After Bruce was able to move again, they made short work of capturing Ivy and sending her back to Arkham. For once, she didn't argue or try any tricks to get away, her eyes stayed locked on Phantom the whole time until she was taken away.
When it was only the two of them left, together with a couple of small and inconspicuous puddles that was all there was left of all the frost and ice, as well as quite a lot of destroyed plant matter, Bruce turned to face his teammate.
And all of a sudden, he started to doubt what had transpired; his brain having trouble connecting what had just happened with the innocent looking boy in front of him. But the street around them as well as his own shaking body spoke of the truth. That it had really happened.
Besides, the whole street as far as he could see bore traces of the melted ice and the crumbled plants. He felt himself hesitate for a split second at the implications of that—at the sheer size of whatever power Phantom had unleashed so casually and at the potential danger that it posed.
But then Bruce looked back at Phantom's face and the way he was keeping his earnest attention on Bruce—waiting for what he was about to say; waiting for his judgment—and felt himself relax.
Phantom had never done anything since he'd met him to earn his distrust and to his surprise, Bruce found that he didn't want to ruin that. His children had told him that he was too paranoid for his own good and maybe this was the time to start working on changing that; to prove them wrong.
Bruce fixed Phantom with what he hoped was a stern look and said, "Let's go debrief."
Phantom at least had the sense to look faintly ashamed. "Are you sure? Shouldn't we—"
"Watchtower. Now."
This time, Phantom followed him without further debate, and Bruce breathed out a sigh of relief. He wasn't sure that he would be able to force Phantom to come if he didn't want to.
-
As soon as they arrived at the Watchtower, Bruce led Phantom to an empty meeting room and closed the door before anyone could stop them to talk. He was grateful for the effectiveness of his glare in keeping people away.
Bruce placed his hands on the table and fixed Phantom with a stern glare. "We need to have a serious talk about following orders. As well as withholding important information."
Phantom grimaced. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so angry. I just… Hated that she threatened you. I couldn't just—"
Bruce cut him off with a stern, "I can take care of myself." He couldn't have a young boy risk himself in a misguided attempt to protect him. "But I need you to listen to what I say in the field."
Phantom looked like he wanted to argue for a second, before he deflated. "Yeah, sure. I'm sorry."
Bruce had sons of his own; he could tell Phantom didn't mean it, so he raised an eyebrow and stared him down in silence until the boy broke.
"Okay, fine! I'm not sorry! I could help in that situation and to stand back and do nothing wouldn't have helped anyone!"
And that was a good segue way into the other topic Bruce wanted to discuss. "Why haven't you used those powers before?"
Phantom hesitated. "I was scared of hurting you guys. We've only really been on missions in small spaces and my skill set isn't really made for that." Then he paused with a thoughtful expression on his face. "Well, except for the invisibility and intangibility and stuff, but that's just basic powers, you know? Every ghost can do that."
Bruce had thought that was his only skill set.
He mentally tried to re-categorize everything he knew about his teammate, and started on making new contingency plans.
Phantom took a deep breath. "I normally try to hold back a bit. I know humans aren't really as durable as ghosts and I don't want to hurt anyone more than I have to, I don't want to destr–"
Phantom cut himself off, a pained expression flashed across his face, but it was gone before Bruce could get a good read on it.
And that was part of the problem, wasn't it? He didn't know enough about Phantom to know what to expect, not really.
He had been blindsided by Phantom's apparent youth and humor, how willing he was to cooperate, and how happy he always was to interact with the other members of the league. But Bruce knew, better than most, that appearances could be deceiving.
He should have dug deeper.
He had just assumed that there wasn't anything more to dig up on a dead child. That had been a faulty conclusion. He was getting weak. Lenient.
Well, he could start to work on fixing that now.
So Bruce crossed his arms and fixed Phantom with what he hoped to be a stern stare. "Why didn't you tell us you had powers like that?"
"I promise I didn't mean to keep it from you guys! It's just… I forget."
Bruce raised an eyebrow in question. Forgot what? He wanted to see where Phantom went with this. Thankfully, Phantom seemed to take the hint and elaborated, "My powers."
Okay, Bruce took it back. That didn't really clear anything up.
After a few silent seconds in which Phantom didn't seem to think he needed to explain further, Bruce caved and asked, "What do you mean?"
"I mean I forget what my powers are sometimes. Or at least some of them."
"…What?"
Was Phantom messing with him? He couldn't seriously mean that he didn't know his own powers?
"Yeah… I know it's bad."
Bruce blinked. Or… He was serious. "How can you not know what your own powers are?"
"It's not my fault I get new ones all the time! I mean, of course I know about the ones I use on the regular, but the others… I get new ones so often it's hard to keep track!"
Well wasn't that a terrifying admission? Bruce almost didn't want to ask, "How many do you have?"
Phantom paused with a thoughtful expression on his face. Bruce wanted to cut in that it was a fairly straightforward question.
Then Phantom groaned and threw his hands in the air as he exclaimed, "Well that's the problem, isn't it?! I'm not sure!"
He couldn't really be serious, could he…?
Bruce looked into Phantom's eyes that were once again back to their familiar green color, and found only honesty there. Well, honesty and a fair share of annoyance and resignation.
What was he meant to say to that? He got new powers just like that? Was that typical for ghosts?
…How was he supposed to keep a detailed list of his teammate's powers if Phantom himself didn't even have the information and if it changed all the time?
Phantom seemed to take Bruce's silence as disapproval, which wasn't completely wrong, as he raised his hands defensively in front of him and plowed on, "I didn't know that was, like, a requirement for you guys! There's nothing I can really do about it."
"What about making sure you know your current powers before going into dangerous situations, at the very least?" Bruce barely recognized his own voice, he sounded so exasperated.
Phantom looked at him as if his statement was in any way shape or form an intelligent and revolutionary one. "That might actually be a good idea. I can try to write a list down if you want?"
"I can help you compose the list." The words were out of his mouth before he had made the conscious decision to say them and Bruce cursed himself as soon as he let them slip. His teammate might get the wrong idea that he wanted to help him out of the goodness of his heart, but it was simply to keep a closer eye on Phantom and learn his strengths and weaknesses. Of course. Nothing else.
Phantom stared at him in silence for long enough that even Bruce started to second-guess himself, before he broke the quiet with a barely audible but clearly awed, "You would do that? For me?"
Bruce cleared his throat. "It would be bad to not know your powers. It makes you a liability and a danger in the field."
"Aww, you care about me!"
"Of course I—" Bruce cut himself off. He would not admit to something like, especially not for a colleague of all things. And of course he didn't. He just needed good intel to make sure a repeat of today never happened again. What if next time Phantom got hurt or—
No. What if next time, Phantom compromised the mission. That was what he cared about. Only that.
Phantom's green eyes suddenly shone with tears and Bruce stood up straighter. Please, Bruce begged silently, please don't start crying. He hated it when his kids cried. Not that Phantom was one of them. Of course not.
But then a wide grin slowly spread across Phantom's face, stretching his mouth wide and squinting his shining eyes into mirthful crescents. The innocent picture was slightly ruined by his fangs peeking out from between his lips. "I care about you too!"
Those words shouldn't have almost made Bruce smile back, but he forcibly reminded himself to focus on his faulty assumptions and on the risks this whole thing posed instead of the warmth spreading through his chest. And Bruce could admit to when he had been wrong, despite what his sons said, but it had been a long time since he had been this wrong about something or someone. He didn't like the feeling, and he would make absolutely sure it didn't happen again. And that no one found out that it had happened.
He shook his head, forced the small smile off his face and said, "Prepare a list of all the powers you do know about until tomorrow."
Phantom sloppily saluted him with a grin. "Yes, sir!"
Bruce scowled harder, but it only made Phantom's grin widen. He needed to make sure Phantom knew the importance of this.
"And next time I tell you to do something, you do it," Bruce growled out.
Phantom nodded, still grinning. "If it's not too stupid."
Bruce could recognize when he had lost an argument and decided to take what he could get.
-
The next day Bruce found a note on his desk at the Watchtower with a long list of increasingly absurd powers in a very scratchy handwriting covering both the front and back and covered his face with his hands as he groaned.
They had a long way ahead of them.
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give-grian-rights · 10 months
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i was so fucking ready for when Blue Beetle came out, thinking there'd be an inflex of fics. a reasonable amount, y'know, since DC doesn't fucking advertise their movies. and now here we are with like. probably 8 even TAGGED AS JAIME in the last month .
on my hands and knees begging y'all to watch Blue Beetle (2023) when it hits streaming this weekend PLEASE?
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atthebell · 6 months
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Words: 1623 Fandom: QSMP Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier Characters: Rafael Lange | Cellbit, Roier, Pepito, Richarlyson Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Married Rafael Lange | Cellbit/Roier, Mentioned Bobby (QSMP) Summary:
“Bom dia,” he murmurs, kissing Roier on the cheek after they all take their first sip, all four of them back together, for real this time. No purgatory, no kidnappings, no evil twin brothers. Just them. “Bom dia,” Roier echoes, and Richas and Pepito sign it back before they all twirl in circles, laughing. Cellbit stumbles and nearly spills his whole mug, saved by Roier’s hand at his waist, and he takes care to sip the rest of his coffee safely sitting down at the table.
for days 6 & 7 (coffee & family) of @smallchaoscryptid's spiderbit week AND qsmp-month's egg week! a 3-in-1 combo!
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teecupangel · 11 months
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"comes out of the coffin with a hot tea"
I HAVE AN IDEA! Stupid one... but still one! Another one of Desmond's being thrown into the past, but this time the apple has read too much about fainting Victorian women and made him in some sort sickly (We can make it as a backlash to almost dying and his burned arm). I mean.... what can i say! I just love the duality of a character that in one moments seems like a breeze can knock them down and in the next they win against you with only a stick in hand!
"sips some tea"
That would also made a good cover for Desmond! If he was trying to not put himself under the radar of his ancestors of course. Who would believe that the most sickly man in -put a city name here- is able to clime roofs, fight off the guards and also win without a scratch? Maybe Connor? Malik? Who knows! :D
"throws the coffin out the window and leaves through the door "
(stares the window for a moment… well, okay. I mean… I have no idea how a coffin could fit thru that but okay)
I mean… if you really want Desmond to have some kind of handicap of the ‘sickly’ kind, may I suggest the setup for “The Villainess's Days Are Numbered!” where the main character’s HP keeps getting depleted? This means... even taking one step gives him a -1HP penalty and stressful times (or any time he overexerts himself) gives him a double HP reduction penalty (which means that -1HP turns to -2HP). Oh, and his default HP is only 1210 and he can gain a max HP reduction if the circumstances call for it)... maybe even go down as far as 200 max HP, hhhhmmm?
This means we have the ‘joy’ of making Desmond have to maintain his HP XD
So Desmond has to be bedridden to keep his HP up before he does any ‘stunts’.
It would be funny if we place him in a very awkward position too.
For example…
Third Crusades? He’s one of Ṣalāḥ ad-Dīn’s children. Hell, he could be the son who took over Ḥalab so we have an excuse to place him during the time of Altaïr’s Chronicles.
Renaissance Italy? Make him the ‘child’ of one of the many clergymen against Rodrigo becoming pope to give an excuse for Ezio to ‘know’ of him. Bonus points? Make him a relative of Cardinal Ascanio Sforza
American Revolution? One of the Schuyler children (Philip Schuyler has a lot but you can pick one of the Schuyler sisters if you want to make this a Hamilton reference or if you just want Desmond to be part of all that drama in general XD)
The main point is… Desmond has to maintain his sickly body, all the while making plans how to screw up the timelines without anyone noticing it.
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