#the interdimensional traveler

[kyosplosion]

related to this, just for chapter 10 

once again, art for the fanfic "the interdimensional traveler"

[bet-on-me-13]

Amity is a Dimensional Dump

So! Amity Park is a hub of weirdness of all sorts, mostly undead, but there are also a bunch of Multiversal oddities connected to the small town.

There are the minor anomalies. 5th Street has a bad habit of slipping into the Backrooms, Old Lady Jenkin's House sometimes has snow in summer, and of course the Night Sky had a 20% chance of swapping views to another Galaxy. Danny likes that one a lot.

But the biggest Anomaly is how many Multiversal Travellers get lost there.

They are always finding somebody wandering the streets with no idea where they are, and have to help them find their reality of origin. Other times they decide to stay for various reasons, ranging from a bad home life to being the only survivors of a Dead Universe. Half of the population if Amity was made up of the descendants of Lost Travelers, so their DNA was really a mixed bag.

Danny was flying over town when he spotted a Blur on the ground below.

He flew down to intercept, and found a boy in red and yellow panicking over his situation.

"Hey! Can I help you?" He called out.

The boy looked up, and gasped "Are you a Hero? I need help getting back to the Justice League!"

Danny chuckled, "Which one?"

The boy looked confused, "The Adult One? I guess?"

"Not what I meant, sorry. I mean, which Dimension are you from?" He clarified.

"Dimensions? What is going on!?" He shouted.

"Okay, let's calm down and restart. My name is Danny, who are you?" He introduced himself.

The boy took a deep breath, calming himself, before saying, "Okay, my name is Kid Flash, but you can just call me Wally."

[magister-magolor]

COME ON GUYS VOTE FOR SETTLING A SCORE ITS MY FAVOURITE SONG

Video Game Track Bracket Round 3

Nightmare King from Hollow Knight

vs.

Settling a Score ~ Atone for One's Misdeeds! from Kirby's Return to Dream Land Deluxe

Propaganda under the cut. If you want your propaganda reblogged and added to future polls, please tag it as propaganda or otherwise indicate this!

Settling a Score ~ Atone for One's Misdeeds!:

magolor!!!!!! such a cool little guy. this music sounds cool and plays during what i think is one of the coolest moments in the kirby series!!

[paintedcrows]

Tfw your [REDACTED] starts dating the guy who tried to rob you (context)

[zylev-blog]

HONK! CRASH!

Danny woke up with a jerk. He laid in bed for a long moment, staring at the ceiling and listening to the chaos downstairs. He could hear something running around the house honking, his dad yelling, and the sound of a gun going off. He didn’t have enough sleep to deal with this. All he had wanted was to sleep before school, but was that ever going to happen? No! Why was it always him that had to deal with everything?

“GRAB IT MADDIE, IT’S GETTING AWAY!” Dad yelled.

“I KNOW, JACK!” Mom yelled, shooting her gun again.

CRASH!

Danny rubbed his eyes with a deep sigh, tossing the covers off of him and putting his feet onto the floor. Just as he was about to get up, he heard thumping coming up the stairs. Great! Now he would get in trouble if he didn’t try to head off whatever was running around their house. He ran over to his bedroom door and yanked it open, running down the hall until he was face to face with a black duck. It wasn’t even a ghost! The duck had a patch of blue around its eyes that looked like a mask, and blue markings down the side of it. In his confusion, the duck slipped between his legs and kept running down the hall.

Jazz screamed from somewhere downstairs. “There’s another one!”

“IVE GOT IT!” Dad yelled.

Cursing, he ran after the duck just as his Mom ran up the stairs. He grabbed the duck off of the ground, ignoring it as it hissed at him and tried to bite him.

“What the fuck?” He asked Mom.

“Language, sweetie.” Maddie said while she aimed the gun at the duck in Danny’s hands.

“What’s going on?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the duck squealing.

CRASH!

They both ignored the sounds coming from downstairs. Danny decided it wasn’t his immediate problem, so he said nothing on what sounded like Dad plowing through a wall at top speed while running.

“We thought these ducks were ghosts at first, but they’re not. We don’t know where they came from.” Maddie took a step towards him, a frown on her face. “They came out of the portal.”

The duck was still trying to bite him. It couldn’t even break the skin of his hand, so he didn’t try to fight it.

“Weird looking duck.” He commented. “Ducks aren’t blue.”

The duck squawked loudly in protest.

“GOT IT!” Jack yelled from downstairs.

“Can we like… throw it back in the portal?” He asked.

“It could come back in. We don’t know where in the portal it came from.” Mom said, lowering the gun now that the duck had stopped trying to escape.

“You think another dimension?” He asked as they walked downstairs.

“Perhaps. For now we’ll put them in the holding pod and figure out what to do next.” Mom led him down to the lab.

When they got down there, he added the duck in his hands to the cell that housed the other duck. The other duck was differently colored from the first. It was black, with green feet, a green mask around its eyes, and red markings along its body. The duck seemed to be howling bloody murder.

“This one put up a fight!” Dad said proudly. “Too bad it’s not a ghost.”

“Great. I can go back to sleep now, right?” He asked tiredly.

“You sure you don’t want to help with the interdimensional search? You’ve always been the best at this.” Mom offered.

“No thanks.” He declined, yawning. “But if they’re still here when I wake up then I’ll help.”

“Okay. Good night, sweetie.” Mom kissed his forehead.

“Night mom, Night dad.” He waved as he walked back upstairs.

As soon as he got back upstairs, he found Clockwork sitting on his bed. He screamed in frustration.

[laquilasse]

Some Atem and Thief King Bakura (and a little Kaiba)

[flamingpudding]

Nice Cosplay, dude!

It was supposed to be a simple mission. Just get in, beat the criminals, dismantle the bomb and get out again, preferably with no injuries so they all would get to enjoy Alfred's cookies at the end of the night.

But no. Of course things couldn't be simple. Not when Constantine suddenly enters their coms, screaming something about a multidimensional rip and then Jason shouting something about seeing a whirlpool of green that feels very very bad and then Dick started cursing at B being stubborn and....

Tim buried his face in his hands. At least thanks to Jason seeing that Lazarus Pit like Portal everyone believed him this time that Bruce was still alive but this time not lost in time but apparently thrown into another dimension. Though that wasn't making the situation any better. Because Tim was sure Alfred was the only reason the Manor was still standing otherwise his siblings and himself included would have destroyed it by now.

Damian's enraged shout echoed through the Cave, followed by another death threat made by Jason and then Dick's attempt at being the voice of reason. Dear god, they needed to figure out where B was or someone might die.... or at least get maimed by his siblings be it a criminal or one of them.

Hopefully Constantin or anyone else of the JL Dark will have figured out in which dimension B had gotten thrown into.

Meanwhile...

Batman was staring down at the white-haired kid with Lazarus green glowing eyes wearing a jumpsuit and still had green splatter on his cheeks. The kid was grinning at him with big round eyes that reminded him of Dick when he was younger.

He would have believed the kid innocent if it weren't for 1. The glowing green eyes that reminded him of his second oldest phases of pit madness and 2. The fact that he had just watched the kid beat up a ghost like being he, Batman, had not been able to land a single hit on before imprisoning that being into a thermos.

The kid clearly was a vigilante in the working and for a split second Bruce wondered how his children would react to an interdimensional sibling if he mentored the kid. First of all... the boy needed more protection. That flimsy suit was not offering enough of that. Second the kid should wear a mask. Running around with his face openly in view would only spell trouble for the boy and thitd training the kid needed to learn-

"Wow dude, that's an awesome cosplay of Batman! It looks like it's right out of the comics!"

Batmans thoughts on mentoring the kid came to a screeching halt as he stared at the kid. And gruffly repeated. "Comics?"

[kokoa-la]

Prompt from @help-i-need-a-cool-username

Jason has once again snuck into Gotham University. Now, before any assumptions are made onto why the crime lord would break into a college, the reason is because he likes the library. That's it. The public library is trashed and small, barely taken care of, but Gotham U's? It's beautiful. Multiple floors, organized and in sections, taken care of, alphabetical order, it's magnificent. The chairs were a reason alone to sneak in, but the students here added an extra charm. 

He had gone to the very back of the library on the second floor. This area was  pretty well hidden and enclosed. He would come here to read without anyone questioning him, even hiding the books he wasn’t finished with yet to continue on later. Jason wasn’t expecting someone to be so close to his spot though. A few tables across stood a student, thin, tall, with pitch black hair, baggy cargo jeans, and a white t-shirt. The other hadn’t noticed him yet, so he remained quiet and just watched. He was in front of a large white board on wheels, seemingly taken from the rooms he saw down the hall. 

“That doesn’t work, goddammit.”

On the white board was lines upon lines of equations- at least he thought they were equations, with most of them being letters and symbols rather than numbers. It made the vigilante’s brain hurt. The student - assumed STEM major - just kept mumbling to himself.

“Stupid physics, won’t allow interdimensional travel”

What? Jason may have been out of school since 15, but he knew no courses were asking for the answer to traveling between dimensions. It seemed the student had a habit of talking to himself when worked up or focused, possibly why he isolated himself from the rest of the library. 

“If your parents could do it, why can’t you? Think Danny, think!”

That sentence wasn’t concerning at all, but at least Jason learned the boy’s name. Danny seemed to have a strange background, what did he mean by ‘if your parents could do it’? Had his parents managed to travel between dimensions? The other was chewing on the cap of the white board marker, his other hand resting on his hip as he swayed back and forth.

“Oh! Oh! Oh! That! The thing! That thingy!”

Jason could practically see the lightbulb go on above Danny’s head. Just then the other erased a solid portion of the whiteboard and dropped to his knees, ouch. He started frantically scribbling, fast and messy, barely cohesive. Though, Jason was sure that if it was Tim sitting where he was instead, the boy could probably understand everything on that board. He’d stick to English literature, thank you very much. 

“That’s it! Oh my ancients! I got it!”

Danny practically jumped in the air, punching the air in triumph. Jason almost felt proud of him, this complete stranger he’s been watching, wow he was being creepy, huh? Danny shot both of his arms straight up, the marker gripped tightly in his right hand fist. 

“I did it!”

He looked so happy, so excited. He began to buzz, even spinning, before stopping mid loop and turning around slowly. Shit, Jason had been caught. To be fair, Danny hadn’t exactly turned around the whole time, meaning Jason was just watching his back the whole time as he worked through his… problem? It’s such a shame, Jason was thoroughly entertained by this random kid. 

“Uhhh, hi? How long have you been there?”

Oh shit, Jason had to talk now, didn’t he?

“Not very long, but long enough to know you were trying to solve interdimensional travel before apparently succeeding.” 

The color drained from Danny’s face. Whoops?

“Uhm, no I didn’t.”

Now that he got a closer look, the student looked like someone Bruce would adopt. Black hair, clear blue eyes, tan skin, sharp features, the whole nine yards. He was actually fairly attractive, maybe even cute. 

“Really? I could have sworn that you said ‘stupid physics won’t allow interdimensional travel’”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah sure, and I’m a student here.”

“Wait, you’re not a student here?”

“That’d only be true if you were lying.”

“Well I’m not so-”

“Uh huh, sure you’re not.”

“Look dude-”

“Jason.”

“Look Jason, there’s no way that I could solve interdimensional travel, the multiverse doesn’t exist.”

“Look Danny-”

“How do you know my name?”

“I won’t tell a single soul if you explain how you did it to me”

Curiosity won his gambit. Would he regret what he was about to say? Perhaps.

“Maybe over a coffee?”

He knew it was worth it when the marker hit the floor and Danny moved his hand to cover his red face. Well, it wasn’t the first time he’s done something he regrets, maybe this time it’d be a cute STEM major who knows the secrets to the multiverse. 

[mastercrowned]

some magolor gijinka lore:

magolor doesn't have actual cat ears, but he has his hair styled into buns that resemble cat ears.

the master crown's posession makes his hair grow out into horns, and they stay that way while magolor's trapped in another dimension.

he slices it off at the end of the magolor epilogue, using the same sword he uses to defeat the master crown; officially severing his ties to it and freeing himself once and for all.

whoa... that's sick. i should draw that

[pinkd3mon]

Magolor poor little meow meow

Day 5 of drawing kirby shitpost for every day of October

[gouinisme]

uhm... did y'all forget about worm portal? cuz i didn't forget about worm portal

(from mag 41)

i don't think the worms in the magnus institute are from before the fire. i think these worms are from the tma universe

[jadetheblueartist]

*Sigh* this is ducktales, season 3 episode 24. I guess Bill was right with the whole “We’ll meet again” thing. This triangle will surely follow me everywhere.

TEEHEE THIS ACTUALLY MADE ME REALLY HAPPY AGGDKSKAGSJSKSJDHDKSKS IVE SEEN PEOPLE MENTION HIM CAMEOING IN OTHER SHOWS BUT IVE NEVER SEEN THIS EXAMPLE BROUGHT OF SO EEEEEEEEEEEEE BUT YEAH THERES A JOKE IN HERE SOMEWHERE ABOUT SCROOGE AND HIS GOLD AND BILL AND THE BUY GOLD THING BUT YOU KNOW I DIDNT EXPECT THIS BUT YOU CAN BET THAT MY EYES CAUGHT THAT LITTLE TRIANGLE IMMEDIATELY HDKALSGRIELDHHDKSKSHSVSVS

[dontfuckingestablishcanonicalbac]

the reveal in unmortricken that universes outside the central finite curve are just... inventing interdimensional travel all the fucking time is absolutely insane. like we know the central finite curve is just a tower the ricks built to place themselves forever on top, but the sheer number of people who have invented portal travel in other universes is completely mindblowing to me. all the portals are different styles, different colours - are these all different inventors across different collections of dimensions? it's unregulated, it's rick-free, it's only shown for like 30 seconds throughout the episode, and it's not even mentioned. i know we already know this, but rick sanchez really isn't the unique genius he pretends himself to be.

[zylev-blog]

Danny is Bruce Wayne

Lots of bad things had happened to Danny. He’d been turned into a half ghost, been cloned, been hunted for sport because of his new species, and had the government turn against him and his parents when they tried to support him. Needless to say, he wasn’t having a good time.

He had been in the Infinite Realm, trying to find a solution to their problems. Supposedly, out of all the dimensions in the Infinite Realm, none of them had ever declared war against them and declared them as a nonsentient species. It had angered a lot of ghosts, with good reason.

When the Fenton portal suddenly disappeared along with Vlad’s portal, he didn’t know what to think. He thought maybe the locations had changed, and searched all around the area, coming up empty. It wasn’t until Clockwork told the ghosts that the dimension had been destroyed did it really set in.

He was alone. The sole survivor. Maybe it was for the best. He just hoped it was quick for his family, and that they didn’t suffer.

What was he supposed to do now? Clockwork took him under his wing and showed him how to have inter-dimensional traveling adventures. The two would pose as father and son (not that it was an untrue statement at this point) and they explored the multiverse together. They’d fought demons, aliens, humans, and anything or anyone who threatened the timeline of that dimension.

Danny eventually got older. It took him a while, now that he wasn’t bound to his own timeline. He was around sixteen now, but he had seen and done so much that he didn’t even flinch at the scariest of threats.

“It’s time.” Clockwork told him.

“For what?” He tilted his head, looking at Clockwork.

“Your next task. This one will be solo.” Clockwork opened a portal and gestured for him to step into it.

“Will you come and get me when it’s done?” He asked, hesitating. Why did this feel like goodbye?

“I will. But I’m afraid it will be a while.” Clockwork smiled sadly at him.

He hugged Clockwork, partially surprised when the god of time hugged him back. “You’re sending me there to live, aren’t you?”

“I am.” Clockwork let him go, for once not being cryptic. “You’re ready.”

“Thank you for everything, Clockwork.” He smiled, then walked through the portal.

As he stepped into the cold autumn night, a glowing green sticky note appeared into the palm of his hand.

Do not let them see your ghost form.

He burned the note and shifted back to his human form. It had been a while since he had been in it, and he noticed that it was as tall as his ghost form was. He was still growing, of course. He was 5”11, and seemed like he was going to inherit his dad’s 6”7 stature, if he was lucky.

The first thing he noticed about the city was that it reeked. He wanted to pinch his nose, but he held back. He wasn’t going to let some stinky city make him gag. He’d literally gone to the stinkiest planet in the universe once! Now that he thought about it, was that training for living in… wherever he was? He looked around and saw a sign. Gotham. This should be fun.

[plush-rabbit]

Spots and Stops

Continuation to Cookies and Cream this isn't really a fix-it fic, cause like i got like a request to do so and i'll defs try to, but also i got like two people who wanted a part 2 so here it is

Word Count: 3.6K

A/N: People wanted a part two and i want to please the masses, and i have ideas so like here you go

-

Regret is all that you know. It consumes you, starting at your chest, making it ache the entire day, and settles in your stomach to the point that you can’t consume anything without it tasting bitter. You should have reacted better. You should have held him and told him that him being spotted wasn’t a dealbreaker. 

But you didn’t.

Instead, you did everything wrong. He needed you. He needed someone, and he came to you. Somewhere, he thought to himself, that you would have accepted him, past your fear, past your hesitations and desires. He thought that you would want him. 

In your entire relationship, you never thought that he would have ever been wrong. But he was, and in the worst way imaginable. 

You have to force yourself to hide what belonged to him. You can’t bear to look at it- at him, at what used to be his. You hold his nightshirts in your hand, staring at them for far too long, lost in thought of what could have been. You really did think that you two would be together for a long time. 

The fabric is wrinkled, the tag of the shirt curled in on itself and frayed at the edges. His toothbrush is still next to the faucet, and his face wash remains untouched. You can’t bring yourself to throw it away. 

He won’t return. You won’t see him again, and as selfish and awful it is of you to keep something of the man that you rejected- you need to keep his things. You need to keep his shirts, and pants. You need to keep his skincare products. You need to keep his toothbrush. You need to keep some part of him with you. 

A part of you wants him to return. You want him to come back; you want to take him up on that deal of starting fresh, of how he won’t hold what you said against you. How he was so willing to hide himself, just to stay with you. At some point, you expected to come into your home and find his stuff gone- the final sign that he has left your life- that he took what was his when you weren’t home. But he hadn’t. And he won’t. He would always listen to you. Always respected your wishes, and the final one was for him to leave.

You’re an awful person. You’re sickening. Tears dot on his shirt, and you place it beside you on the edge of the bed. Your knuckle wipes harshly at your eyes.

Taking in a deep breath, you force yourself to think of something happy. You don’t deserve to grieve the loss of the relationship. Not when you still have a home. A job. Loved ones. You have it all. He doesn’t. If anyone deserves to cry, it’s Jonathan.

You think of kittens and puppies.

You think of how his voice broke when he called your name.

You think of a memory with a friend where you had a picnic.

You think of how you couldn’t handle his touch.

You think of how he would hold your hand, and act as if it were the greatest honor to do so.

You think of him crying without a face.

You think of him lonely, and cold out in the night. 

You bite your lips harshly, desperate to bring yourself back to your senses. 

The sound of the city is alive outside your window. Lights flash, colors change, and you stand in the middle of your room, willing yourself not to cry. 

-

You unlock the door, and throw your jacket on the couch. It slips and you pull a face at the audacity of having to pick it up. In your hand, you clutch the phone and listen to your friend talk.You shake the jacket, ridding it of any dirt that could have attached itself from the floor.

“Mhm,” you hum, kicking off your shoes and turning on the standing lamp, turning the knob to let a warm glow illuminate the room. You think you hear something somewhere, but you reason to yourself that it must be a pipe. “No, no. I get it. I mean, if it were me, I think I would have liked died.” Your grin is sharp when you hear your friend laugh.

“Exactly. So, that’s why I can never return to that specific bubble tea shop. Honestly, I just- it was so embarrassing,” they whine. You hear them sigh over the phone, and you stretch yourself over the couch, letting your head fall back. “Anyways, how was the date?” Your mouth pulls into a frown. “It’s been a good minute since-” they trail off, not wanting to mention his name, and you whisper a silent “thank you” at the courtesy. “Did you have fun?”

You straighten yourself back on the couch, pulling yourself close to yourself. “It was okay,” you mumble. “I don’t- I mean, he was nice and stuff, but I don’t know. I don’t really see it going anywhere.” You ate across from your date, and you wished that it was Jonathan.

“It doesn’t have to go anywhere,” the counter. “You can just have fun. You’re allowed to have fun after your last relationship.” You clench your jaw. “I know you really liked him, but he’s- you know.” You’re trying to find your words, but none come to mind. “You’re a catch- honest. You’re allowed to go on dates and enjoy yourself.”

Tears sting in your eyes, and you swallow the lump that’s made itself into your throat. “Yeah, you’re right,” you agree, without even trying to add faux emotion into your words.

“You uh-” they clear their throat- “Have you heard from him? Or about him? It’s kinda hard for a guy covered in-”

“I gotta go,” you mumble, not waiting for a response before you end the call. You toss the phone to the other end of the couch. You close your eyes, trying to steady your thoughts, and on the other end of the couch, you hear your phone buzz. 

There’s another sound in your apartment, and you hope that it’s an intruder. You hope that they rob you blind and leave no witnesses. You hope- selfishly hope- that you can be put out of your misery without having to do anything. Then maybe, you wouldn’t have to feel guilt and regret eat away at you. You wouldn’t have to go on anymore dates or live in an apartment with items that don’t belong to you. 

The room spins and closes in on itself and it’s difficult to breathe. Your chest feels as if it’s being crushed, held tightly with the palms of guilt and regret, squeezed until your ribs would splinter and heart would burst. Your breaths are quick and uneven. A hand clutches at your chest, and the other muffles any cries with the palm. You haven’t grieved, and the date that you went on, only confirmed that you shouldn’t. You tossed out your previous partner when he needed you the most. He cried in front of you, begged for you to accept him and you couldn’t. You’re able to continue your life as if nothing happened, he doesn’t have that same luxury. Even if you weren’t the one to cause the incident, you’re positive that you caused something worse to happen to him.

You miss him, but you shouldn’t be allowed to miss him.

Loneliness covers you in a warm blanket. It’s suffocating, and burning, holding you down as you wrap your arms around yourself. There is no comfort that you bring to yourself. There is no one that you can call. You wheeze and hold yourself. Tears burn themselves onto your face, and drip down your chin. You close your eyes tightly, biting on the bottom of your lip. You can’t cry. You won’t cry. You won’t allow yourself to feel bad about the ending of a relationship that you brought upon yourself. 

Nearby, you hear a door click open, and footfalls thump softly against your floor. There’s a knock somewhere- too rhythmic to be a pipe or anything of the sort. You cry more, hiding your face in your palms, hoping that whoever is there will take pity. There’s another knock, and you shrink in on yourself. You can’t mumble anything other than a plea for nothing and anything. Finally, the other person speaks. 

Your name is said softly, and you don’t respond. “I- I know you don’t want to see me, but are you okay?” Your chest shakes and heaves. You’re being tortured, you have to be. You’ve thought about him for far too long that you’ve begun to hallucinate his voice. “Do you need anything? I can um- I can get you a drink?” You take in a wheezing breath, one that hurts your lungs and chest. You hear rushed steps that echo away and come back in a flurry, and something blue is placed in front of you. You peek through the gaps between your fingers, and grab at a tissue.

Time seemingly doesn’t pass for as long as you cry. You sit there, whimpering and sniffling. You must look pathetic to him. And even then, he stands there. The thought of his previous form is what you picture. Picturing him as who he is now, only makes you cry harder. 

You tried to get over your silly fear. You forced yourself to look at spots and holes in clusters. You forced yourself to eat cookies and cream flavored snacks. Even after all that exposure therapy, it still made you sick to look at spots. 

This isn’t fair. None of this is. You wish that he had met someone better before he became what he is. 

You bite the inside of your cheeks and look at him through wet lashes. You can’t even tell if he’s thin or not. His body is too off- too stretched at the limbs and compressed at the torso. You can’t remember if he looked like this all those nights ago.

“I know you told me to get out but I needed some stuff.” His voice rushes at the end, and he shifts his weight, tightening his hands around the clothes and pulling it close to his body. You watch as their clothes and other items fall into a hole, and fall in a crumpled pile near the door. You turn back to look at him. “I meant to do that,” he says weakly. He clears his throat, and stands taller. “I’m allowed to come in here and get my stuff. Okay? That’s fair.” The holes swirl around, thin black lines that wrap around the edge of the circle, smaller, black dots that linger around the bigger holes. You turn your head, tears still making their way down over the curve of your face. “But um, are you okay?” He connects his hands, and fiddles with his fingers, and you can picture who he was before. 

Even after everything, he still asks if you’re okay. He does the one thing that you didn’t do for him. 

You should tell him no. You should be honest. It’s not as if lying will do any good, especially at this state. Your face is wet, and you’ve cried. In the corner of your eye, you see your former partner stand and tilt their head, trying to get a better look at you.

Looking at him hurts in a way that it hadn’t before. “I’m sorry,” you say in a quiet voice. He doesn’t respond. “I’m so sorry,” you repeat, lowering your head. “I’m really sorry.” You cry, hiding your face in your hands once more. “I’m so sorry,” you wail, gasping for breath. Your shoulders shake, and your chest hurts. “I’m sorry, Jonathan,” you say as you gasp for breaths.

He stays silent, and you hope that for his sake, he left you. You hope that he’s the one who gets to leave. 

Only quivering breaths that are coupled with a flushed face and teary eyes are the remnants that you mourned. Faintly, you remember a time where he held you, where he came home to find you crying, and how he raised over still in his work attire to hold you and rock you to sleep. You blink rapidly to rid yourself of that memory. 

He sits beside you, and he’s made sure to keep his distance, perched on the other side of the couch. He turns to you, and your tissues crumble and drop to the carpet. “You look nice,” he compliments. “I always liked that color on you,” he mumbles, looking away.  

You nod. “I went on a date.” Bile burns your throat at the admission. 

“Oh.” Jonathan pats his thighs, and his nails claw, the spots seemingly swimming away from his touch. “Lucky guy.” He pauses, and clearing his throat, he turns to you. “How did it go?” He asks slowly. 

“I didn’t like the guy.” Your shoulders slump, and tears prick your eyes once more. “Um-” your voice cracks, and in the corner of your eye, you see his hand jump, reaching over to comfort you, before having to pull himself back. “He was nice. But I wasn’t-” You stop yourself. You weren’t what? You weren’t ready? After all this time, after the break-up that you initiated, you weren’t ready to put yourself back out there. You weren’t feeling the date because it wasn’t what you wanted? You didn’t want him. You wanted-  You clear your throat. “I don’t think I’m going to see him again,” you mumble. You cast a glance over to where he watches you, the hole where his face should be, spiraling and growing smaller under your gaze. “Have you been seeing anyone?”

He snorts despite the lack of features. “People aren’t really fond of my new look.” You wince and turn back to look at the floor. “But it’s fine.”

“How have you been?” You grab at another tissue, folding it into little squares. 

“Well you know me, I’ve just been here and there. Messing with my holes and stuff.” You give a small smile, turning your head to look at him. “Money’s been a bit tight, but-” he lifts his hand in the air, doing a see-saw motion with it- “Eh. What can you do, ya know?” You force yourself to look at a small cluster of spots that have congregated at his shoulder. He turns to look at you, and when noticing where your eyes have landed, he covers the spot almost self-consciously. “And you? How have you been?”

You give a shrug. “My boss has been a bit of a dick as of late,” you mutter. 

“The one with the mole?”

Your smile brightens up a bit. “Yeah, that one.” You look to the side, and back to him. “Cut my hours after I asked for a day off.” The tissue in your hand tears. “I probably should quit.” You tear the tissues into strips, letting them fall to the floor. You’ll worry about the mess later. “But after the lack of hours and the rent, I really can’t afford that.”

Jonathan stays silent for a moment. “You think you’ll be okay?” You give another shrug as your answer, and when you don’t elaborate, he presses on. “I have some money saved up. I wouldn’t mind- it’s you, you know. I know-” His offer only makes the tears start up once again, and he stops. 

You take in a quivering breath, and rub at your eyes. “You shouldn’t,” you mumble. “I’ll figure it out.” You look away from him. “Plus, I’m sure you got your own things going on. Um-” you turn back to him- “where are you living?” You hope he gives you an address. You hope he has an address to give.

“Turns out, when you work for seedy people, they know even seedier people.” He doesn’t offer anything more than that.

Silence befalls the both of you. You should say something. You should close the gap between you. You should do anything. 

Your hand slides beside you, reaching out, and you see his spot, lower itself, acting as his eyes, lowering his gaze to watch you. Sucking in your bottom lip, you turn your head. Your nails claw at the couch. 

This is wrong. You shouldn’t do this to him. He deserves better than what you can give him. You haven’t even gotten over your trypophobia. But you still want to kiss him. You want to reach over and hold him, and beg to be forgiven. You want to cling to him like you used to after a long day. You want to kiss him, and hold his hand.

To whoever is listening to you, you plead for him to reach over. You want him to take another leap of faith and beg for you. You want him to need you as bad as you need him. The box of tissues becomes blurred, and your cheeks are wet. 

“I should go.” The silence is broken, and you watch as he stands. His spots seem to drag, weighted at the bottom and stretching as he walks further away from you. “I think I got most of my stuff.”

The hole is his stomach bubbles around the rim, the circle wavy and imperfect. You rise with him, and he stands so much taller than he did before. “Do you want to borrow a tote bag or something?” He tilts his head at the offer. “It’s just that when you hold onto things, it um- it looks like they fall into you. I thought a tote bag would make it easier to carry,” your words trail off, softer and softer by the syllable. 

“I’d appreciate that,” he replies.

You nod your head and rush to your room, grabbing at a tote bag from the closet, holding and running your thumb over the stitched handles. He’s going to borrow it. You bring the handle close to you, and press your lips softly against it. 

When you walk back to the living, he stands at the end table, holding a photo frame of the two of you on an early date from what seems like a lifetime ago. You let your gaze linger on him, and when he turns, you scurry to the door, grabbing at his clothes and items, placing them delicately in the bag. You take your time to make sure everything is neat. 

He meets you halfway across the room, and when you hand the bag over, he makes sure to hold the bag above your hands. His pinky touches briefly against your index. You clench your jaw, and try not to look at him.

“Thank you.” He pulls the bag close to him, and you give a curt nod.

“Anytime,” you answer.

Turning on his heel, he walks further from you, and he stops. “I’m going to use the bathroom. I don’t want you to see what I’m going to do.” You want to see. You want to get desensitized. “It won’t be long, I promise. I’ll be out of your way soon.”

“Jonathan?” You ask, tears springing to your eyes once more. 

“Yeah?” 

“I-” You need to apologize to him. You need to tell him that you’re sorry. You need to tell him that you miss him. You need him. “You can- You can always drop by if you need something.” 

He visibly deflates. “Oh. Yeah- cool. Um, Thanks.” 

All he has to do is say that he wants you. He needs to just say it, to ask one more time- that’s all he has to do. You can’t do it. Not when you broke his heart, not when you’re unsure about where you stand in his life and his wants. 

He just has to look back, and you’d tell him that you need him. You’d kiss him, again and again. You’d plead for him to stay. You’d get over your dumb fear, and you’d be happy with him. He takes another step away from you, and you need for him to hear your heart beat against your ribs in an attempt to bully itself out of you. You need for him to stand there for a second longer, to watch and look at the lines that wrap around his body, and the holes that sift and move. You’d get over it, all for him. 

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out. He’s walking further away from you. He grabs at his body and pulls out a spot. Your stomach churns at the thought. Over the sound of cars and life, he needs to hear your heart break. He needs to understand that you need him the way that you need air. You’d die without him. You’d let yourself suffer. You stand, and lift your hand up, wanting to reach out for him. 

Turn around. 

Please.

Turn around.

That’s all he has to do. Nothing more. He doesn’t have to be someone else. He’s yours. He’s already himself. 

The door to your bathroom closes, and you suck in a breath, tears springing to flood. “Jonathan,” you croak out, finally, and you rush to open the door to the bathroom, and when you do, he isn’t there. 

You rush to your bedroom, and move the pillows, and you cling to the one shirt that he missed. The one that you hide underneath your pillows. The one that no longer smells like him, but still belongs to him. With all your might, you wish that he would return, but your prayers remain unanswered. Instead, you sit alone in a bedroom, clutching a shirt that no longer belongs to you. A shirt that has no owner. A shirt that is all that remains of someone who you need.

[flamingpudding]

Fictober23 Prompt: 16 - "Do you know a way out of here?"

Fandom: DPxDC

Rating: T

Warnings: -

"Danyal."

He flinched and slowly turned enough so he could look over his shoulder at the cockpit of the Fenton Speeder. Damian was staring at him with crossed arms and so was Jason, both looking very unimpressed with him.

"I got it! Don't worry!"

Damian was now glaring at him. "You said that ten minutes ago."

"Pretty sure we came past this floating rock over there before." Jason added to Danny's dismay. He floated over closer to the Speeder, his entire body language spelling out how nervous he was facing his twin and brother right now.

"I promise, I got this! A lot of the Infinite Realm looks very similar and aside from the floating doors nothing really differs here a lot. Unless you find the haunt of someone!"

"We know, you said that when we entered the portal, repeated it before that several times and every time we came here before, insisting on several safety measures." Damian retorted still with that unimpressed stare of his.

"Some safety measures that were, we still got attacked by one of your ghost rogues." Jason muttered, eying the thermos Danny had thrown at them when a guy, Walker, came at them with a bunch of other ghosts looking like security guards. They had sucked up most of them into it and then lost the last of them by zigzacking their way through this dimension.

It wasn't like this was their first time accompanying Danny into the Infinite Realms. Both Jason and Damian had come into this dimension several times before. Most of the time it was for checkups Jason or Danny had with Frostbite. Other times they just tagged along when Danny had to deal with something here. This was one of these times.

A floating eyeball had interrupted their breakfast and Danny after having gotten annoyed with it enough to shoot one of his ecto-blasts at it, hurriedly went down to the basement to the portal he had built there months ago. Jason just happened to be in the cave wanting to look something up on the batcomputer when he caught him preparing to go into the portal. And Damian as always, being the worried twin that still got an overprotective streak after months of having Danny with them also insisted on coming alone.

They had been lucky that it wasn't a school day or that Bruce had been busy with JL stuff to notice them going off into the Infinite Realm on their own. Now Jason regretted it just a little bit, because despite what Danny was saying, they were lost. It was probably only a matter of time until one of their other siblings noticed too. "So wanna bet how long it will take for the others to freak out on the coms of our disappearance? I don't think we left a note on where we went."

"I informed Pennyworth of our outing." Damian countered and Danny gave a nervous laugh. Jason couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him, fully knowing that Bruce was going to lecture Danny once more on safety precautions when traveling interdimensional. Like having someone man the coms at home base.

"This would be so much easier if I just had the map…" Danny muttered as he phased through the cockpit glass and stood next to them.

"The map you just happened to leave behind because you know the way to the castle by heart?" Damian rose an eyebrow at his now sheepish looking twin.

"I learned my lesson okay! I won't forget it next time!" Now Jason raised an eyebrow, he distinctly remembered Danny saying this before when they went to an appointment with Frostbite before and had gotten lost on the way back.

"Danyal. Do you know a way out of here? Or do we have to find a way to contact Pennyworth, father or any of the others?"

"I know where to go!" Danny jumped up phasing out of the Speeder again to look at their surroundings through the windows. Before pointing in a certain direction. "That way! If we get to Far Frozen we will be halfway back to the Manor's portal!"

Damian and Jason both arched an eyebrow once more nearly in sync. It wasn't Danny's fault, okay it was, but they were losing trust in his navigation skills. Especially since both were sure they had rounded that dead tree on a rock five times now. Just as the other was about to start leading them in that direction a blast hit the side of his head and both Jason and Damian shouted his name in worry.

"I am okay!" Danny shouted flying up to them before dodging more blasts that came his way. Damian then pushed Jason off the Speeders controls. Stirring it to follow his twin brother who was still dodging another one of his rogues that had decided to attack them on their way home.

"What is today?! Come and attack Danny day?!" The half ghost shouted as he flew zig zags around floating rocks and dodged ecto-blasts from a ghost, Jason remembered Danny called Skulker. This was the second one to attack them today, and one Jason knew Damian liked the least.

Damian had a personal grudge with this one, once he learned that the ghost was after his twin's 'pelt'. Personally Jason found it sort of hilarious considering Danny gets hunted by this Skulker and Skulker is getting hunted by Damian whenever the Demon Brat caught sight of him.

Though Danny had explained it to them once that it was just his rogues living out their obsession, it still didn't stop any of them getting at least somewhat protective when these ghost rogues showed up. After all their attacks were once that could hurt their brother and aside from the equipment Danny had provided they had nothing else to protect him with.

Not that Danny needed to know that Bruce and Tim were already working on something with the information he had provided behind the twins' backs.

Still this was the second time they got attacked now and all just because Danny had to deal with some nonsense the Observers had called him for. Yet Damian and Jason were sort of unable to help Danny right now and could only stir the Fenton Speeder to follow him, but the speeder wasn't fast enough and they lost sight of their ghost brother.

Frustrated Damian punched the consol.

"Now what?" Jason muttered, eyeing all the green and floating rocks around them. They didn't know how to navigate that place no matter how often they had accompanied Danny into this dimension. They were even more lost now and Danny was somewhere, hopefully still somewhat close, getting hunted by Damian's least favorite ghost rogue.

"I am going to skin this ghost and make him wish he never died in the first place, and you won't stop me Todd."