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#the One is Dead trope
cadriox · 1 year
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The OG bleach pairing
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oh nothing, just jegulus ‘accidentally’ swapping ties and watching sirius go absolutely mental trying to figure out how james ended up with a slytherin tie.
(he would have so many outlandish theories)
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plainclothesdisaster · 9 months
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Red Knight - Chapter 1
DP x DC | Dead on Main
Jason Todd encounters one Danny Fenton in the streets of Gotham and suddenly he's thrown into a world of ghosts and monsters. Will he embrace this life? Or will it just end up with him dead again?
Read on AO3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4
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“Why are you following me?” Jason pressed his arm against the stranger’s throat, pinning him to the alley wall.
Under the sodium glow of the streetlight Jason got his first good look at the guy. Tall, dark hair, maybe his age or a little younger. Not the type he typically saw in the Narrows- he lacked that certain air of despair. The stranger had been following Jason since he’d left his safe house. Maybe the guy thought Jason would be an easy mugging target. Wasn’t he in for a surprise.
The stranger lifted his face and smiled. His blue eyes glowed with a green ethereal light. “How long have you been dead?”
He said it with the casual nonchalance of talking about the weather. Jason tensed, pressing harder on his arm. How the hell did this guy know?
The guy didn’t flinch. He didn’t seem bothered at all. That could only mean one thing.
Jason steadied his breath. “Metas aren’t welcome in Gotham.”
“I’m not a meta. And neither are you. But that doesn’t mean we’re totally human either.”
The stranger tilted his chin up, his smile broadened. Behind his lips he revealed a pair of fangs glinting, taunting.
From nowhere Memories of the pit stirred under Jason’s heart— rage and pain and fear. His pulse raced faster. His arm pressed harder.
As if responding to the pressure the guy’s face softened. “Oh. It’s worse than I thought.” He sounded genuinely concerned. “What the hell happened to you?”
“Shut up!” Somehow the pity stung worse than the taunts.
Jason pulled his fist back to punch the look off the guy’s face, but he didn’t get the chance to. The guy went translucent. He moved through Jason’s arm like a ghost but then suddenly his hands were solid against his chest, pushing with surprising force, sending him stumbling backward to the slimy concrete.
He fell prone and then the stranger was on top of him. Adrenaline flashed through him- too late. His breath clogged in his throat as cold clutch of power hit him. The strangers face twisted in concentration as he put a hand to and then through Jason’s chest.
The fury of the pit raged and roared, nearly as loud as it had when Jason had taken those first screaming breaths back alive. Jason fought, punching and clawing but the guy held form, unshakable. His ears rang and pain sang through his whole body and it felt like he was turning inside out and then—
Quiet.
Quiet, empty relief.
He breathed out. A cool weight sat heavy under his heart where previously there had been a nest of scorpions.
Jason’s mouth fell open. The guy pulled his hand back with a sigh and stood up.
“That should help I think.”
Jason looked down at his chest- unscathed. A thousand questions scrolled through his head. The one that made it out of his lips: “What the fuck?”
The guy shrugged as he stepped back. “Gotta look out for you. You’re one of mine.”
One of mine. Those words sent a shiver through Jason. This guy was obviously a dangerous meta. Jason had been embarrassingly helpless to stop him doing whatever it was he just did. Time for some answers.
Jason rolled up to a fighting crouch and pulled a handgun from his belt. He leveled its comforting weight at the not-meta meta. “I don’t belong to anybody.”
The stranger’s smile came back, and so did his fangs. Jason bit his tongue.
The guy pulled a scrap of paper out of his pocket and scrawled for a moment, completely nonplussed by the gun pointed at him. “Call me if it gets bad again?”
Jason didn’t move. He gripped the gun tighter. “Who are you?”
Still that smile. “I’m Danny.”
And then he vanished. Not a Batman fade-into-the-shadows type of vanish. One second he was there and the next- nothing but air. The paper he’d written on fluttered down to the ground in the place where he’d stood.
Jason lowered the gun. He got up to walk away, ready to chalk up the whole experience to some meta bullshit he didn’t want to think about again.
But a new weight sat heavy in his chest. The quiet lingered in his head. Whatever that guy did, it made him feel more calm, more in control of himself than he had in a long time. Halfway through that thought the wind picked up and threatened to blow the paper away. Jason’s stomach dropped as he scrambled to catch it. He closed his fist around it just as it reached the street.
He uncrumpled it between his fingers. A phone number, nothing else. On the other side— a receipt for bat burger. What the fuck.
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starheirxero · 5 months
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BYYYYY THE WAY AGAIN. I love love LOVE and adore evil Sun's use of "you're a dead one" bc it feels like SO MUCH TO UNPACK.
It could mean Sun believes Moon to be a non-threat because he knows this means he isn't effected by the kill code anymore. It could mean that Sun has deemed him unworthy of his time because he isn't the original Moon. It could mean that Sun can target him in the future because he knows that means it'll probably be easier to get under his skin.
It also just has this inherent vibe of like... idk, being a walking corpse almost???? Like, the sort of vibe of "the old Moon used to live in this body but he's dead now and I'm here in his place." It felt like Sun viewed the Moon in front of as a grave for what used to be rather than what is there now and that, in itself, says a lot about him methinks.
Like idk if any of this makes sense but it is so fascinating to me. If a perfectly functioning Moon qualifies as a "dead one" to him, who else goes under the same category? Does he view his own Moon as a dead one? Does just wrap any Moon that isn't the "first" Moon into that category? Is this a common category?? Can other people go under the same title or is it something he made only for Moons? WHAT DOES IT MEAN BOY...... AAUAGARRAA IT'S SO COOL IDK. CHEWS ON HIS METAL ARMS
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eldritchb0nezz · 3 months
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more halogear for u + a small college au design for my girl, Grace Chasity :3
sorry for the shit lighting T^T
also i need a beta reader for my halogear fic so hmu if ur interested!!!
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wolfstargazer · 4 months
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Jan 9 - Complicated - @wolfstarmicrofic - word count: 298
Sirius had never thought of himself as a very complicated person.
So when he was 15 and found himself wondering what kissing Remus would be like, he didn't worry about it all that much.
They had been sitting, side by side, in the hospital wing. Sirius had been keeping Remus company whilst he recovered. It was a cold, bright day in January, and there was frost inside the windows.
With a dramatic shiver Sirius had declared, "Budge up, Moony!" before scrambling in beside his friend.
Sirius hadn't quite accounted for the narrowness of the bed or just how close they would be beneath the blankets. It was all elbows and knees, and although Remus had flinched a little as he'd made room he hadn't seemed to mind and had now returned to reading.
Sirius observed Remus' look of concentration as he had frowned down at the page. Then Remus' expression had shifted, and Sirius had realised he was staring at the way Remus was smiling at what he read.
Sirius had never had cause to look at Remus' mouth so closely before. He'd never even noticed the slight scar that nicked his lip...
And then, all at once, Sirius was wondering...and then imagining what kissing Remus would be like. Would it be soft and gentle? Would Remus be nervous and hold back? Or would he take Sirius by surprise and be nothing like the cool and calm and collected Remus he knew at all?
"Padfoot?" Remus had asked.
Merlin, just how long had he been staring?
Sirius swallowed hard, arranged his face in a way that he hoped did not reveal what he'd been thinking, and raised an eyebrow.
"Yes, Moony?"
Remus grinned and gave Sirius an almighty shove out of the bed and said, "Give me back the blankets."
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two-crows · 1 year
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more of these guyssss.. even if bps the supposed demon in this dynamic no matter what i feel like ricks gonna be more impish
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kiunlo · 2 years
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every time i see A/B/* (a racial slur for aboriginal people) instead of the significantly less racist term omegaverse every single time i'm looking for fics or looking at fanart i lose 10 points off my own life.
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mamamittens · 1 year
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Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 12)
Platonic Yandere Whitebeard Crew (and others) & Reader-Insert
Main|First|Previous
Warnings: Yandere behavior, excessive use of force/fire, light injuries, and character death. At this point, need I remind ya'll to not tolerate possessive/toxic behavior in real life? Or murder/violence for that matter. If yandere content makes you uncomfortable, please do block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any variation of 'one piece yandere' that you feel is necessary.
Ya'll about to lose your damn minds and I'm not sorry.
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(also, this gif is baller)
Word Count: 2,439
Ace leaned back a little as Striker sped off across the water. Ocean spray erupting in his wake as he veered towards the shoreline. Marco was checking the other nearby island while he checked this one. Discreetly.
Well… as discreetly as he could manage.
After several months of riding Teach’s ass, he knew they were close. Several times they went into a port only to find out that Teach had left only days before. Whatever crew he managed to get on such short notice was competent, Ace would admit that much. But everything he heard only made his fire burn hotter in his chest. He’d been practically spitting sparks for weeks now.
Particularly what he’d heard from Luffy.
‘They look cool. Though really tired!’
Thatch had woken up a couple of months back, though he was still strictly on bedrest. He was able to provide a better picture of what happened. As they had all suspected, you didn’t have anything to do with it. As far as Thatch could remember while bleeding out, Teach had kidnapped you with a sack. Not exactly ‘accomplice’ behavior. Thatch had also been devastated to learn that you’d been taken when he was right there.
Ace promised to bring you back home. At this point, the only reason for Teach to return was so Oyaji could personally punt him into the sea.
Ace ran Striker onto the shore and leapt out, boots digging into the sand as he jogged up the slight incline. Shards of glass breaking under his heel as he took a moment to control his temper.
He just wanted to go home already. He wanted all of this to be over with. To go back to teasing you for dodging parties and Thatch’s attempts to befriend you. Hell, he’d even take your awkward, concerned smiles for when someone tried really hard to talk to you about joining. Like they were confessing their plans to marry a sea king—actually, you’d probably be offended they thought they were worthy of Mao.
Ace sucked in a deep breath and steadied himself. Stalking through the shadows towards the center of the town. Ears primed for gossip.
“—they think I’d pay for that! Ugh!”
“—get ahold of your sister after last week? What she say?”
“—Did you see those pirates? Dragging around a slave, I guess I shouldn’t be surprised—” Ace jerked towards the voice with narrowed eyes. An older lady gossiped with someone just a little bit younger, the two engrossed with their conversation. “—That Blackbeard fellow has no shame! All those rings! And his crew were just obnoxious! I feel so bad for that slave. I wonder if calling the marines would help or if they’d just be sold again?”
“I thought slaves just had the collar and brand. I didn’t even see a brand anywhere… do you think it’s a ransom?”
“Well, you’d think he wouldn’t be carting them around if that was the case! Poor dear looked exhausted!”
Ace grit his teeth, hissing as steam curled between his lips. After a moment, he put on his best, charming smile and stepped out.
“Excuse me, ma’am? I couldn’t help but overhear you… are they still here? My friend was taken by pirates and I’ve been trying to find them for months! Thick glasses, blue bandana around their wrist?” Ace asked with wide, sad eyes. The older ladies tittered at him as expected.
“Oh! Yes, actually, though it looked like they’re using it as a bandage now. That brute doesn’t look very gentle to me, you know. Last I heard they were readying for departure on the other side of town.” She replied. Ace bowed low.
“Thank you, very much, ma’am! Ah.” Ace looked up with a wry smile. “I suggest you ladies get a bit of distance. I’m afraid I’m going to make a bit of a mess soon.”
The ladies nodded and hurried off, warning others as they went.
Ace kept his smile for a few moments longer before settling his gaze in the direction they indicated.
Ace huffed, running up a wall and grabbing onto a rooftile. Hoisting himself up to run atop the buildings for a better vantage point. The colorful clay roofing blurring as he rushed.
He leapt on top of a house, crouched down low as he sneered.
Teach stood with his crew around him, organizing barrels. You swaying on your feet a little beside him. A dull, iron bracelet connected to a chain that ran all the way to Teach’s own wrist.
Luffy was right.
You looked fucking exhausted.
Ace cupped his hand, fire pooling between his fingers as he threw it down at Teach’s feet where it exploded. More light and noise than damage.
He didn’t want to hurt you.
It would be tricky to immolate Teach with you next to him, but Ace was clever. He’d figure something out. At the very least he could keep fighting until Marco arrives.
“TEACH YOU BASTARD!”
--*--
You yelped, startled by the sudden explosion just feet from you. Teach instantly backing up with his hand gripping your arm. His face turned up towards a roof.
You followed his gaze in shock as the figure stood up. Ace screaming furiously across the distance.
“TEACH YOU BASTARD!” Rather than be intimidated in the least, Teach laughed.
“Commander! Should have known it would be you.” Teach grinned, pulling you forward a bit. “Here for something? Why not join my crew? I’m going to be a warlord soon, you know. After I turn in Straw Hat, they’ll gladly give me the position.”
You couldn’t quite see Ace well, but he seemed more furious at the suggestion than before. His fruit flaring enough that even with your exhaustion you noticed. He’d clearly been burning so hot for a while now—your obliviousness to him was just further evidence for how weak you’d gotten over the past few months.
Teach had been getting a tad… desperate to outrun his pursuers until he could manage to get the warlord title. And it seems as though his luck had run out.
“I. Would. Never.” Ace spat, launching off the room in a hail of fire and landing several feet away. “Luffy is my little brother, Teach. You’re not hurting anymore of my family.”
Teach made a surprised sound and you couldn’t blame him. They didn’t quite resemble each other, nor did they share a last name. And seeing Ace now, face etched with fury, he looked about as far from the goofy, beaming Luffy as possible.
Teach clicked his tongue.
“What a shame. You’re pretty strong, commander. We could have done great together.” Teach bemoaned playfully, like they were still crewmates having a small argument over pie flavors.
“I’m not your commander, Teach. Not after what you’ve done.” Ace’s body lit up like a bonfire, flaring high into the sky and making you look away or risk blinding yourself.
The shadows beneath your feet writhed as the light flickered over them, powered by your fruit as a cold spot developed around you. Around Teach.
“Go. None of you are strong enough to fight him—” Teach warned before one of them shot a gun at Ace. The bullets flying through harmlessly, leaving only temporary holes in the blazing fire that constituted his body. Ace’s eyes were fixed on you like dying stars. “Now!”
The crew ran as a flashover spilled out across the area, scorching the earth and singing your lungs.
You wished you had the opportunity to run yourself. Never, have you ever, wanted to fight Ace. For a lot of reasons.
Mostly a lack of desire to know what being a burned marshmallow felt like.
Teach’s free fist was coated in smoke and shadows, curling around his fingers eagerly.
Ace reeled back his fiery arm, fist clenched tight as Teach mirrored him.
Fire and living darkness rushed across the space, suddenly not nearly enough space as they collided violently. Friction lighting where they clashed as it raced upwards and out, attempting to find a weak point. You felt your body being blown back, only held in place by Teach’s firm grip as his boots dug into the earth. Despite only being connected to Teach, you could feel how hungry the fire was. Eating away the oxygen as it exploded again and again, trying to outmatch the shadows.
The final detonation was high above your head and the shockwave took you down to your knees as you gasped for air. Shaking almost as violently as their first blow, your head ringing, skin tingling with light burns. You blinked hard, eyes crying out at the relief as you looked up.
Teach’s grip on your arm was the only thing keeping you from collapsing to the ground. Dust and debris clinging to your body.
You were horrified. Only realizing now that Teach fully intended to keep you right next to him for this fight.
And you genuinely wasn’t sure you could handle being this close to any of it.
Teach grunted, bending down to wrap his arm around your middle like a sack of potatoes. You didn’t even really have time to consider how painful the position was before Ace leapt forward with a feral howl of anger.
Sparks and flame erupting around you as you could do nothing but hold onto Teach’s arm and close your eyes. Your body jerking around as the two traded blows. Teach handicapped by you, as was Ace, who clearly wasn’t quite going all out like he wanted. The air was stiflingly hot and heavy as they clashed. Fire burning through your eyelids as you tried to focus on anything but the fight.
“Zehahahaha~! What’s wrong, commander? You don’t seem to be invested!” Teach cackled before he was cut off with a pained grunt. “I was hit!?” He mumbled just over the rippling sound of fire tearing through the atmosphere.
“You’re a fucking COWARD, TEACH! PUT! THEM! DOWN!” Ace screamed like he was possessed, explosions scorching you as Teach jerked around a touch desperately.
You gasped for air, lungs burning from heat and exertion. Exhaustion filling your head with cotton as tears slipped through your closed eyes.
You… you were so fucking sick and tired of this.
All of it.
Every last fucking thing.
Sick of the fucking pirates!
Sick of your fucking devil fruit!
Sick of the clammy, creepy shadows curling around your ankles every fucking second of the day!
Your senses focused on that sensation. How much you hated it.
Fire and shadows tearing up the earth as Teach occasionally pulled in debris to single-handedly hurl at Ace. Pulled in nearly the whole town only to eject it violently at Ace.
Every move taunting and teasing your senses as it pulled on your lingering energy.
“TEEEAAAACCHH!” Ace roared, the sound distant and dull in your ears.
Your heart beat in your chest. A distant drum that steadily grew closer. Louder until it vibrated in your blood and bones.
Ba-thump!
A mirage formed behind your eyelids. Less wavering and unsteady with every beat.
Ba-thump!
A dial. Almost like a pressure gauge. The needle vibrating near the red and jumping with every attack.
Ba-thump!
You felt a foreign vibration build in your chest. Your feet digging into the broken cobblestone, muscles screaming out as you forced yourself to uncurl from around Teach’s arm.
BA-THUMP!
Your nails dug into his skin as you pivoted. One hand curled around the illusionary dial before twisting. To. Zero.
“Dial DOWN!” You screamed, the pressure of his fruit on yours reversing.
Teach spun in your bloodied grip, body flying around as you threw him over your shoulder with more strength than you thought you’d ever have. Fueled by rage and desperation to make it stop.
The chain pulled taut. Yanking you with him as you screamed, the joint popping out of place from the force of your throw.
The electric pain made your hand spasm as you ‘let go’. Body pulled across the ground and nearly slamming your face into the ruined street beneath you. Your only free hand scrapping across the broken rock, leaving a trail of blood that was shared underneath your knees and side of your ribs.
You gasped, body jerking uncontrollably away from the taut chain but only abusing your dislocated shoulder further.
It was dead silent aside from your pained gasp and a low, startled moan from Teach.
He coughed.
“…zehahahahaha—"
Then he laughed. Shadows erupting around you both as he slowly sat up.
“HAHAHAHA! ZEHAHAHAHAHA! ZEHA—”
A burning, oozing hand slammed into his head, shoving him back down with a barely registered scream. The smell of burning flesh erupting as you looked up in shock.
Teach was dead in less than a second.
Admiral Akainu kneeling over him, one arm shoved to the ground where Teach’s head used to be. His foot burning through Teach’s arm, melting him slowly as lava pooled around him. The heat waving over you at a much greater temperature than all but the most devastating of Ace’s attacks. And he was several feet away.
“…S-Sir?!” You rasped, throat burning as you tried to sit up.
Admiral Akainu jerked at the sound of your voice. His stern features flickering for a moment.
“You did well, Ensign. We only have one last thing to take care of.” Admiral Akainu stated with cold eyes. Slowly standing before walking towards you. Deliberately stepping on the chain and melting it under his shoe.
“HEY! GET AWAY FROM THEM!” Ace screamed, throwing a fireball high. Admiral Akainu flicked his hand, batting it away as he moved to kneel before you. Gently helping you up.
Still in shock, you couldn’t say anything as he braced your back and shoved your shoulder into place. You screamed, startled as pins and needles went down your arm, though otherwise the relief was immense.
You panted, utterly confused as he picked you up with one arm under your thighs, pinning your face into his suit as he sneered.
“I haven’t forgotten about you, Fire Fist.”
You trembled as the air grew hazy with an overwhelming amount of heat. The edge taken off due to your devil fruit connecting with Admiral Akainu’s.
You were so tired.
You managed to look back at Ace, worry dragging you from the edge of consciousness. He looked horrified and infuriated all at once.
You felt the tears slip down your face, almost ice cold in the heat.
There was no way Ace could survive against Admiral Akainu with his devil fruit.
Even before you got involved, it simply didn’t burn hot enough.
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probablyaseamonster · 6 months
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If your character says to another character either "you did this to me!", "what have you done to me?" or "look at me!", there is an 89% chance that they will now be my favourite character from that media and also my new blorbo.
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gayrogues · 8 months
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the scene in evil dead 2 where ash gets his chainsaw arm is a metaphor for bottom surgery. i will not elaborate
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coldresolve · 3 months
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Moneymakers, pt.xliv // Interlude
Previous / AO3 / Wattpad / Masterlist / Next
The house is breathing. There’s no other way to describe it.
An inhale. The room expands rapidly. The walls disappear from view, as does the ceiling, and the floor on which he lies. Conrad feels like he’s falling. Not just suspended; falling, with all the associated panic, the flailing limbs, the flickering sense of orientation. Lights flash around him, and sounds spring from constantly moving sources, a voice that talks to him from below, then above, then below, then above…
Then he’s conscious. It’s the equilibrium, the second between inhale and exhale, where the air moves in neither direction. Dizzy, he raises a heavy head to peer down the length of his body, the fabric over his chest stained red and grey. His eyes seek for meaning and find it, albeit briefly, in the scene unfolding at his side. One foreign hand holds his elbow steady, while another grasps his palm, like a handshake, and slowly lowers the wrist outwards at an angle from the rest of his body. The colors pulse against his retina. His shoulder slides into place.
An exhale. Like water seeping between the fingers of a tightening fist, the air is suddenly pushed out of the room. Humid, smothering. It’s not just that he can’t breathe; it’s the way the room closes in on him, a crushing weight that encroaches on his body, relentless. Conrad is trapped in the lung of a sighing giant, pressed between its ribs and the contracting diaphragm. Concrete doesn’t care much for the plight of the living. Its texture is rough against his skin, and the pain is amplified by the heat of the friction it causes. It hurts so bad. It hurts. The words bubble from his lips. He’s pretty sure they’re not real words, but that doesn’t seem to matter, they leave him just the same. Burst in the air, silently, gone.
There are two facets to it; one is the heaving, the bending of the plasterboard, dipping down towards him, deep beats of pressure, before it retracts once again, and he is free. Another is the texture. Subtle clusters of color and light which pulsate to the rhythm of his heartbeat, writhing like a colony of ants, grainy against his tongue. He can taste the ceiling in some instances, sharp and bitter, coppery.
“You have to lie still.”
Lie still. Still. You have to lie still. You have to lie.
Sharp exhale. Falling concrete slams the air out of his lungs, mounting an incomprehensible weight on his being. The house’s guts churn around him, stone grinding against stone. Arms pinned to his chest by a grip that doesn’t budge, no matter how hard he pushes against it. Red shrieks, and the looming silhouette of his murderer.
Time stands still in the moment where the tension finally breaks again. The sting is drawn out, whining in the aftermath of the crash. He misses against the light, but it vanishes. Seventeen years ago, late at night, they stopped at an inn somewhere along the I-95; Conrad pretended to be asleep. Yellowstone never stuck, but no force on earth could take that memory from him, of being carried through a maze of unfamiliar corridors, rocking along with the steps of his dad, watching the wallpaper drift by through the careful slits of his eyes. An aching cheek is tucked against wool in the thoughtless pursuit of a heartbeat. A heavier core, longer limbs, strange gravity.
He reaches out, blindly –
His hand meets nothing but air.
Previous / Masterlist / Next
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trips2saturn · 2 months
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richonne episode two out of context:
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lipglossanon · 3 months
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A dozen roses sent to me I cut myself to watch me bleed
You tell me that I’m so pretty You hold my face and kiss my cheek
But what the fucks that mean to me When beauty only feels skin deep No I will never love myself Like I love you
-A Dozen Roses
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jacepi-time · 2 months
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I don't know if I'm an outlier in this aspect but whenever a media has a dead or absent character and they kind of play them up as a perfect good individual to intensify the tragedy of their loss or absence, i kind of wish they fleshed them out a little bit more. Because then it starts to feel less than human? I know they're not meant to be relatable but it feels so much more tragic to me when you have a character which had hopes and dreams and flaws now gone from the Main Character(s) lives. A character who all they do is "I do good thing" but has no interests or anything that drives them just isn't as interesting to me, but I am picky. I dunno. Then I don't feel so bad when they're dead or absent because they didn't feel like a person at all and more like someone characters idolize over?? If that makes sense. I have this issue with some romances as well where one of the love interests is severely less developed than the main character and they're only there to be this...perfect untouchable being that the hero idolizes. I know sometimes old stories would have that trope but it's never been my favorite
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thebucketpail · 8 months
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When You Accidentally Kill a Clown pt 11.
Cw. Drugs and Scarcrows fear gas.
Pt.1 pt.10 Ao3
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It was a beautiful day in Gotham City. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, the wind had picked up the previous night and had blown the sea breeze in, making the air somewhat more breathable. Danny and Jason had even planned to go on a picnic at the park that afternoon. Yes, everything was great.
That is, until the city was put on lockdown due to Johnathan Crane being found missing from his cell at Arkham Asylum, canceling not only Danny’s, and every other student’s, classes but his plans as well. And as the topper on the melted ice cream sundae of a day; Danny was now experiencing probably the worst period cramps he’d had in the entire span of his existence. Something he attributed to Gotham’s less than stellar air quality.
So yeah, Danny wasn’t having a good day.
He couldn’t decide whether the worst part about it was that the dorm building was packed with students who seemed more than at ease with the lockdown and seemed more interested in finding every possible way to make Danny’s headache worse, or the fact that he’d run out of ecto-infused snacks. Maybe it was the Snack thing. The people were only an issue because of the snack thing.
Not long after the accident that Danny had realized, while his parents’ blatant disregard for lab safety had rendered almost all the food in their house inedible for regular human people. The ecto-contaminated food did wonders in not only boosting Danny’s energy, but also acting as sort of a pain relief where medicine tended to fail. It was like if drinking twelve cups of coffee was actually healthy for the human body.
Ever since, Danny had made it a point to keep a steady supply of ecto-infused snacks squirreled away wherever he could stash them. He had been meaning to restock the supply in his dorm but had gotten a little… distracted. He didn’t even have any vial of pure ectoplasm- which if drunk like a shot could heal any particularly bad injuries- lying around because as annoying as Tristan was, Danny thought that giving his roomate radiation poisoning wouldn’t be such a good idea given the city he was in.
Now a simple solution to this dilemma would be to just make a portal to the realms and travel to Amity that way, no harm no foul. The problem arose with finding a place to make said portal. Tristan adamantly refused to move from his bed, which ruled out just portalling from their dorm. The Halls and Bathrooms were populated by untold amounts of student sheltering in place, and on top of all that; there were guards posted at the entrance to every building on campus. A precaution taken due to Gotham U being one of Cranes favorite places to go fuck shit up after a breakout. Suffice to say; Danny was trapped.
As he doubled over to clutch at his abdomen, Danny thought over his options. Climbing out the window would probably be the worst idea. If Tristan didn’t stop him then the guards two stories directly below the window would. He briefly re-entertained the idea of opening the portal in their room and hoping Tristan was too engrossed in his phone to notice, but portal making was a lot of things, cool, mentally draining, useful, but one thing it wasn’t was discreet, so that thought was quickly discarded. That left either finding a secluded broom closet (unlikely) or hoping the roof was available (Slightly more likely).
He chose the slightly more likely option.
It took a bit of effort to drag his pain ridden corpse out of bed, but Danny got there eventually, despite the stabbing pain in his side. He grabbed a water bottle off the floor and muttered some half hearted excuse to Tristan who didn’t even look up from his phone - again Danny considered just portaling from there.
“You do you man,” his roommate said as Danny shambled out the door.
The halls were buzzing with various conversations. Someone had even pulled out a portable speaker and was blasting music down the hall. Stepping around various board games littered throughout the hall, Danny made it about halfway to the stairwell before getting stopped by some of his classmates.
Miranda and Jaime - if his albeit fuzzy memory served him correctly- were heading a debate on whether or not the fuzzy images from a recent mission to Venus proved that sentient beings had at one point inhabited the planet, or if the “structures” were just naturally occurring land formations. It was an interesting debate, both sides were making really good points, and Danny considered staying until a sudden flare of pain reminded him of his goal.
Right, Amity.
The stairwells were much the same as the halls if not louder. It was a relief once Danny stepped out into the cooling fall air, the din of the crowded dorm getting cut off as the door closed behind him. The sun had just begun dipping in the sky, casting a warm orange glow across the generators and ac units and a breeze rustled through his hair. The half ghost could almost feel the comforting stickiness of the Infinite Realms’ Ambient ectoplasm on his skin.
Maybe if he hadn’t taken a moment to appreciate the roof’s silence he could have made it there. But as it were, Danny was not alone on the rooftop.
“Well, well, well, what have we here?” The voice was raspy, as though the owner made a habit of gargling thumbtacks, or screeching about becoming a god. Danny froze as his eyes locked on its source. Fuck.
He could barely think as Scarecrow stalked toward him. On one hand; he couldn’t let Scarecrow get inside the building, that would undoubtedly result in casualties and Danny had friends in there. But on the other hand; Danny was in no shape for a fight that wouldn’t end in the rouge's immediate demise, and he didn’t need the Bat on his ass for totaling another of Gotham’s crazies.
His thoughts were sluggish and by the time the imminent danger had registered; Crane had already bridged the distance and had sprayed something gross in Danny’s face.
“You will be the first of my soldiers, boy, and you will help me bring Gotham to its knees. But of course every great leader instills fear into the hearts of his subjects.” Scarecrow then proceeded to laugh maniacally as one does when they are a supervillain, but Danny hardly heard him. He was too busy floating.
Danny had only gotten high once. It was sometime in sophomore year, around the time the bullying eased up and a good portion of the school was singing his praises for finally decking Dash during a particularly bad week. Someone- Danny couldn’t remember who- had dragged him to a house party. Beyond tired and stressed to hell from the relentless barrage of ghost attacks plus a crazed up plot from the fruitloop, he had been dead on his feet, literally and metaphorically, the whole week. So when a stranger offered him a plastic bag full of pills, he took them.
The high hadn’t lasted long with his metabolism, but for a few amazing moments, Danny Fenton was walking on air. All the stress and pain that had plagued him all week was washed away in a wave of overwhelming calm.
Scarecrow’s fear gas felt exactly the same way. Just with the added bonus of hallucinations.
Danny blinked the spots out of his eyes as the toxin raced through his system. He could feel his senses dulling and was vaguely aware of the pain in his abdomen dissipating. Something bright flashed in his peripheral and he thrashed around to look at it. His movements felt slow but floaty, like he was moving through water, and sure enough; once he looked down he confirmed that he was in fact floating.
That’s not right, Danny thought. He couldn’t be floating, what if Batman showed up? He hadn’t told the stabby baby ghost that he could fly. What if he got in trouble?
Danny screwed up his face in concentration as he focused all his effort into lowering himself back to the ground, but his body stubbornly remained several feet in the air.
“Fascinating,” Scarecrow muttered, drawing Danny’s attention back to him. “My toxin has never had this effect before. You wouldn’t perhaps be a meta? We don’t get many of those here in Gotham. I wonder- tell me boy, what do you see?” Danny rubbed his eyes, trying to focus them on the gangly mess of fabric and straw before him. What did he mean ‘what did he see’? Sure things are a bit fuzzy but- Then there was that bright flash again, this time Danny managed to catch a glimpse of bright orange hair before it disappeared behind an AC unit.
“Jazz?” he asked, perplexed.
“Who is Jazz,” the Sack man asked, a bit of curiosity hiding in his voice.
“ ‘is my sister,” Danny mumbled, voice coming out slurred and sluggish, which probably wasn’t good. He turned back to where Jazz was walking out from behind the unit. “What’re ya doin’ ear?”
“I’m not actually here baby brother,” She said, rather Jazz-like, “I’m a figment of your imagination brought on by Scarecrow’s fear toxin.” So apparently that wasn’t Jazz. But it looked like Jazz, and it talked like Jazz. And there’s that thing people say about ducks so how could this not be Jazz. Not-Jazz seemed to pick up on his confusion because she moved closer, outstretching her arms to Danny, who reached back but only became more distressed as he couldn’t seem to reach her. Not-Jazz looked at her hands sadly before letting them drop to her sides. Danny let out a small whimper.
“Look Danny, it doesn’t matter what I am,” she said, “you just have to make sure Scarecrow doesn’t get in that building.” Oh, Danny’s eyes widened, Maybe Not-Jazz was his subconscious telling him what to do. That did sound like a very Danny thing to say.
Wait, The half ghost frowned, something not clicking, Who’s the Scarecrow again? OOOOh right it’s that Sack guy that’s been talking to him for a bit. Can’t let him get inside. Okay what’s the plan. Danny turned slowly before locking his eyes on something. The door! Can't get in if the door’s locked. Need a distraction, He thought.
“What’s that!” Danny shouted, pointing at something behind the Scarecrow’s head before bolting for the door to the roof. However it seems he forgot he was still floating and thus moved in much the same way an intoxicated goose crosses the street; ungracefully.
“Awww, Kitty, look at Babypop! He’s learning to fly.”
“Aww, they grow up so fast, seems like it was just yesterday that he was chasing us with a soup thermos.” The apparition wiped a fake tear from her eyes as she watched on, distracting Danny enough that he slammed face first into the metal doorframe.
“Ember?” he asked, nursing a bruise, “Kitty? What’re you doin’ here? Where’s Johnny an’ Shadow?”
“Oh don’t mind us Babypop, just checking up on you. Carry on,” Ember waved him off but Danny only narrowed his eyes at the ghost teens.
“Are you guys more a’ thoes Hallu-halla- hul loose in ay shons?”
Kitty brought a hand to her chest in a mock gasp. “Well I’d never! How could you say such a thing? Well it’s true,” she added, “But still! Danny almost felt bad at her hurt expression and was about to apologize before getting cut off.
“Well this experiment has been fun, but the clocks a’ ticking and I have a city to rule and a bat on my tail. So if you could move out of the way that would be fantastic.” Sack man said as he walked through Ember, eliciting a very long string of curses and expletives.
Danny shook his head, “No,” he mumbled sternly, “Can’t let you in.”
“Yeah, you go Babypop! Stick it to the man!” ‘The man’ in question didn’t seem as fond of that answer.
“Pity,” he pouted, “I would rather like to have studied your reaction to the toxin. Alas.” Scarecrow lunged. Danny moved on instinct, however slow it may be, and kicked out at the man. His floatyness putting him at the perfect height to land a hit right at the Scarecrow’s face, sending him sprawling.
“WOOOO, Go Phantom! Just hold the line until the Bat can get here,” Kitty called from her perch on a nearby generator. Speak of the devil and he shall appear, Danny’s gasp caught in his throat as his flight finally gave out, dropping him hard on the concrete with a loud thwump.
A few yards away Scarecrow began picking himself up as a giant shadow, out of his element in the strong evening light, dropped onto the roof. “Why you little-” he started but was cut off when the shadow jumped out at him.
“It’s over Crane, you’re going back to Arkham,” the shadow growled. The fighting continued as Danny pulled himself to sit against the cool metal door. Earlier’s bliss had begun wearing off and his head was swimming. Another gasp sent him into a coughing fit as he started feeling his aches again. Suddenly he was shoved forward by something heavy. Fuck. Everything was getting fuzzy but Danny forced himself to stay alert ( well, alert-ish).
Groggily, Danny turned to find out what had shoved him and ended up gaping up at a godlike figure. They were as big as a mountain, with a bright red face mask, and incredible form. The lowering sun holoed them perfectly and- Wait, they were saying something.
“-nny! Danny? Danny, oh my god, I’m sorry, are you okay?” Danny? He knew that name, who?- Oh! That’s him! Why would the god person be asking if he was okay? Danny narrowed his eyes. The person had grabbed his shoulders and was checking him over. Wait, they kind of looked familiar.
“Ooh, this one’s cute. Where’d you find him Babypop?” Danny’s face burned, why did it burn?
“Shu’up ‘mber, I h’ve a boyfren’,” he muttered. The person checking him over froze.
“Danny? Danny it’s me Hood. Are you okay?” OOH! Hood! Danny knew him. What was he doing here?
“I intercepted a transmission, I recognised the name of your building.” Oh had he said that out loud? Hood laughed. “Yeah, yeah you did,” he said, “Danny does anything hurt? can you tell me what happened?”
Danny squeezed his eyes shut. What had happened?
“Was tryin’ ta’ get ta’ Amity,” he slurred, “got sprayed with something’ icky. Couldn’ let him in.”
“Amity?’’ Hood asked.
“Careful Babypop,” Ember warned.
“Don’, don’ worry ‘bout it,” Danny muttered, swatting at Hood’s arm. “Hey was’ that?”
‘That’ was the giant shadow- Batman- stalking toward the two, Skulker hot on his heels and ranting about how ‘tying up your prey is so unrefined and Batman should invest in good quality cages’. The thought of Batman lugging around a giant birdcage full of old timey crooks made Danny giggle. Hood’s arms tensed as they wrapped around the half ghost’s torso.
“You’re a long way from Park Row and your drug rings Hood,” Batman growled.
“Why does everyone always say that, I can leave Crime Alley you know,” he grumbled but was met with a cold glare, “I heard Oracle tell you what building Scarecrow was on. I had to make sure he was okay.”
Batman paused. “Why him?” he asked. In the silence that followed, Danny- pressed against the man’s chest- could almost hear Hood’s core. The low thrum threatened to lull him to sleep but he blinked it away.
Finally Hood spoke.
“I don’t know,” he said, “There’s just something about him that feels familiar somehow. I don’t know why.”
Danny knew this one. He’d asked Frostbit once why the ghosts were drawn to him and to Amity. There was a bunch a of jargon about ghost politics and the portal and stuff but there was also.
“S’cuz we’re th’ same,” He mumbled, shakily poking at Hood’s chest, then at his own, right above where his core sat. “Yer like me, mm diff’rnt.” The two men above him seemed stunned, Why? What did he say?
“Babypop’s got a friend.”
“I know right? I’m kinda jealous. Hey kid, you should visit us sometime. Admit it, you miss us,”
“Yes! I would enjoy a good hunt for your pelt Ghost Child!”
Danny giggled, “F’course, I’ll vis’t soon, an’ Skully can chase me an’ you an’ Johnny can run away fr’m me, an’ we c’n all fight an’ stuff.”
“See you soon Baby brother.”
Danny startled, “Oh Jazz, f’rgot you were here,” he yawned.
Not-Jazz laughed. “I’m not here baby brother, I’m a figment of your imagination, remember?”
“Oh riiight, yer a hallucinamation.”
“That’s right,” she chuckled, “Now get some rest, you still have a lot of toxin in your system.” Danny’s eyelids suddenly felt a lot heavier with the mention of sleep, and with his older sister smiling softly at him, he finally gave in.
“G’night guys,” he mumbled before dozing off to the comforting hum of Hood’s core.
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Jason didn’t know what to say. To B or to himself. He didn’t know how to react to what Danny said before passing out in his arms. It was really disturbing how little he knew right now. Luckily, he didn’t have to break the silence.
”Do you know what he meant?” B asked. Jason shook his head and looked down at the man in his arms. Danny was really cute when he was sleeping.
“The part about being like me, or the fighting someone bit? ‘Cause either way I have no clue.” Jason sighed, feeling Batman’s stare even through the helmet. He contemplated taking it off and throwing it at him.
Another few moments passed in silence before B grunted in typical B fashion, and disappeared.
Jason let out a sigh then looked back down at Danny.
“Alright, let’s get you back to your room, hero.” The meta was deceptively lightweight and carrying him down three flights of stairs proved easier than expected. They garnered a few stares in the hallway but were left alone for the most part. Danny’s roommate didn’t even look up when Jason nudged open the door and set Danny down on his bed.
He didn't stay long after that, but Jason couldn't help but whisper "sweet dreams." Before turning and leaving
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Pt.12
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