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weebsinstash · 11 months

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Alright bestie I’m on that shit again

So yandere Superman, right? Like obviously your fucked. The only other yandere in existence that might just be able to keep you from him is Batman, but even then he’d probably sooner work together just to ensure your safety- but that’s a prompt for another day.

Back to yan Superman, imagine you’re his darling and he is “keeping you safe”. But one day, you get snatched up by some organization that wants to use you as leverage or some shit, but you are just sobbing in relief at maybe being free- only to have Superman show up and do some not so super things to everyone who “stole” you

There are just so many casually horrifying things about Superman that people don't realize until you start like digging into his lore. "Oh he's super strong and a super fast flyer" actually he can do basically anything at those super speeds to the point he can literally even PROCESS THOUGHTS at near light-speed which means he has Absolutely Terrifying reaction times and can make plans and schemes on a dime, which, you know, can be even better utilized by him being intelligent. He has natural invulnerability so if you throw a punch at him too hard you could literally shatter the bones in your hand and he can't even control that, like you could literally hurt yourself with him on accident! He can see across INSANE DISTANCES and his x-ray vision doesn't have like a set range so he could do anything from, peep inside buildings to spy on you, to looking under your clothing for any bruises or injuries or even self harm marks, to peeking behind your hero disguise to learn your true identity, to seeing if there's anything inside your stomach and seeing if you're eating properly. Like jesus christ he literally found out Lois was pregnant from waking up one morning and suddenly hearing the heartbeat of the FETUS, there's literally nothing from him pulling that stereotypical "I know you're nervous or lying or afraid because I can literally hear your heartbeat increase" scary bullshit

And let's talk about Lois for a sec because my god her death was literally what kicked off the Injustice timeline? And there are other forms of Superman media where she just straight up dies naturally of cancer! Sure we could take the easy way and say "in this au Lois never existed or was just Clark's friend and he loved YOU" (which is my preferred default tbh bc, no competition for Reader lol) but I mean if you're going for that angst, that real whump, a yandere Clark Kent that just lost his wife/unborn child to either the Injustice incident or cancer, now overcome with grief? And in those cancer timelines they usually already have a son, Jonathan, and sometimes Jordan, and here's Clark thinking, well, his boy needs a mother, and he's got these weird feelings for you, and lil Jonny clearly has affection for you, maybe bring a bit of a platonic yan himself who sees you as either a big sister or even a secondary mom, so... be his wife maybe?

Like my god if Reader somehow helped him through the grief of losing Lois and managed to avoid "fully activating" Superman's anime villain arc, like he's going full fascist in the Injustice 2 Bad Ending, then some shit DEFINITELY goes down when Reader gets taken away. It just reactivates all his trauma. No! He can't lose anyone else! Jonathan can't lose anyone else! You're not just someone he loves, you're his FRIEND!

You're just huddled in whatever cell you've been kept in with your black eyes and bruises and knuckles bloodied from trying to fight back when you hear Clark's voice and you look up with excitement that just falls immediately off your face because holy shit did he just unlock that thumbprint scanner with a severed arm, and suddenly you're realizing there are other shades of red on his costume and dripping from his fingers

I can only imagine like, ngl I considered a sequel to my fic Doubt where Reader escapes the manor and runs into Supernan as the only other person who can protect you, so here we would have the inverse: you're the only one who knows about Clark's increasing instability and, while you still have your own freedom and autonomy, try to speak to Bruce about it, and now you have Batman Vs Superman: Competing For Your Heart Edition. I can only imagine what sort of unhinged reactions there would be if you think you've got Batman alone and you're beginning to cry all "Bruce I'm really worried about Clark, he isn't acting like himself, there's something wrong with him" and. Clark is like literally using his x-ray vision to read lips through the walls if he can't use his super hearing to outright eavesdrop.

Of course as you suggested, I'm always a slut for ideas with"oh shit I ran to this guy to help me and he's ALSO crazy, now they're teaming up and I'm in some weird shared/poly situation with TWO nutjobs". Lmao you go to Bruce concerned about Kal and Bruce goes to confront him and Clark just drops "did you know Y/N has been hiding self harm cuts under their hero suit also wow they smoke HELLA weed and im worried about their lungs and all the stuff they do when they're alone that no one else knows about 🥺" and suddenly here's Bruce " thanks i hate this actually :)" and there's a scheme concted to spy on you or move you elsewhere.

I've even thought of "Reader oh nooOoooOo, that, giant monster or villain attack or whatever also coincidentally destroyed your shitty little apartment complex? You mean Clark 'accidently' got sent flying into your building or smacked some giant creature into it and now you don't have a place to live? And you're broke too? Oh no 🥺 Well, BATMAN has this nice big house with lots of room in for you to stay toooootally 'temporarily', we PROMISE uwu"

Batman is the one who can put a tracking chip injected into your skin or even disguised as a filling in one of your teeth, and Superman is the one who can zoom off to rescue you/retrieve you "faster than a speeding bullet". I think one of the only people who could bring them down together at that point would be like. Fucking DARKSEID and, Jesus no, you definitely don't want HIM treating you as a pet 😭 the evil Batman that was brainwashed by him in the Apokolips War movie was scary enough (and scary HOT, lmao, let him keep me as some sort of prize and the only luxury Darkseid will allow him as a reward for his obedience. Lord Batman goes from having a meeting talking about like enslaving people to returning to his quarters and railing tf outta you because he's still holding onto some slim vestiges of humanity where he cares about you but also using you as his personal anti stress fuck toy)

#yandere superman #yandere batman #yandere dc #i got a draft whee damian and jon like you and introduce you to their fathers #and suddenly stalking you becomes a family affair #the boys walk you home and jon lies about having to pee so damian can plant bugs while youre distracted #the boys going back to their fathers and telling them all of your personal business #'yeah dad when she was at work i used my xray vision and saw her creepy manager grope her in the walk in'#suddenly your small little privately owned cafe was just bought out by wayne enterprises and your boss is fired or goes missing #maybe Bruce gets you a job st Wayne tech bc hes been following you as batman and he doesnt like you working third ahift #lmao heres hoping i actually finish it wven though im not quite sure where to go w it yet #but like its literally over 8 pages at least so. obviously some sort of creative juices are flowing #yandere stuff #sinprompts #at this point i cant promise shit bc my emotions and motivation are waaaaaacky

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arsenicflame · 2 months

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Ed gets amnesia (Izzy-centric, pre s1 banishment, past edizzy to some degree)

It starts something like this: a rope left out after a raid, a captain showing off to the crew, a workload stretched too thin to have noticed the accident waiting to happen...

When Ed wakes, it's almost immediately clear something is wrong. He's lost a few years of memories- not much in the grand scheme of things, but it's enough that the man who lays in front of them is almost unrecognisable to the man they knew. He's from just at the point where he was starting to get frustrated with the 'ease' of being Blackbeard, tiring of his old life, but still so full of life and love in ways the present Ed forgot how to be.

He's a lot more on guard, for a start, waking up surrounded by strangers, even if they are treating him very nicely. He doesn't trust them, he doesn't even fake trusting them, just shuts them out completely.

Stede and Roach figure out what's going on pretty quickly and try to explain it to Ed after that, about what's happened and all the things he missed, but he doesn't believe them for a second- how could he? If he got hurt, Izzy would be there waiting for him to wake up. He always has been, always is, his predictable and reliable Izzy. He says as much to Roach and Stede, the only thing he will say, and they just... side-eye each other. They can't believe it- Izzy?

Anyway, Ed completely shuts down after that, so someone runs to get Izzy. Izzy, who had decided, after everything- especially the past few weeks on the revenge- that there's no way Ed would want him there. He's still lurking on deck because he can't stand not knowing how Ed is, but he knows that's not his place any more. So to say he's surprised when Stede comes and begrudgingly grabs him is an understatement- Stede doesn't tell him anything, obviously, just that Ed’s asking for him.

The way Ed’s face lights up as he walks into the room is a punch to the gut. There's a cheerful greeting, the kind he hasn't received in years, and Ed’s yapping on about what he's been told and what happened and "this ship, Iz!" and he's just... floored. He can't say anything in response, not even to confirm their story because this is Ed, this is his Ed, who's face is turning worried, joking about how it looks like Izzy’s the one with a head injury, and Izzy can't cope. He just... storms out of the room.

Izzy’s up on deck, and he's not even yelling, or working, or really doing anything, just aimlessly coiling ropes in a daze when Ed appears on deck after him. He's thrown his leather jacket over whatever of Stede’s clothes he was wearing, a return to his Blackbeard armour to be seen by crew, and he jogs up to Izzy and starts getting handsy with him, physically turning him to looking him in the eyes and check he's ok, just generally being casual in a way that nobodies ever seen them- a way that nobody expected Izzy to tolerate (but of course he does, its Ed).

Izzy'll stutter out a response and Ed will wrap his arm over his shoulder, casually, like that's a thing they do. He'll ask for a tour, for him to explain everything, like what's the deal with this Stede guy. He's still enamoured with The Revenge and all its bells and whistles, only now he wants it with Izzy. It's all 'Iz' and 'mate' and affectionate and a side of their relationship even the Queen Anne crew haven't seen in years, a complete shock to absolutely everyone except this Ed.

Ed shows Izzy the model of The Revenge again and Izzy is both heartbroken and so indulgent because that's the Ed he had once, and he's going to take every second while he can. Ed can show him every single trinket on the entire ship if he wants. Izzy's always been willing to indulge Ed to some degree (it's Izzy, after all) but there's usually external factors, like they're in the middle of a raid, storming a hostile ship, or being chased down by the Spanish without any plan and over the years Izzy’s taken to just trying to redirect Ed quickly rather than letting him get distracted with the next shiny thing. It's been a sticking point between them, Ed's distractions and Izzy's rigidity and inability to have fun even when the occasions fitting.

But, for all Izzy's gripes with The Revenge, he does know it's safe for them- or at least that he could take on any member of this useless crew who tried to take advantage of his captain's momentary incapacity. So he does, for once, feels safe to indulge Ed. And God, he wants to. He has wanted to. He wants to watch him forever, like he did when they were little more than kids. He wants to forget all the mistakes he made just to see Ed smile and light up at him one more fucking time. He's not going to throw away this opportunity, no matter how badly it hurts him in the end.

Ed's memories don't come back in a day or so, so the crew keeps getting these shows of their relationship in a way they've never seen before- all these casual touches, and the way he'll turn to Izzy before anyone else, even Izzy laughing a couple of times. The crew gets to see a completely different Izzy- one more like the man he'd have been on The Queen Anne, a man they can see means something to Ed. He's not just his rotten first mate, a necessary evil of Blackbeard, at some point it becomes very clear that Ed did like Izzy, that he chose to have him around. It's like being back when Ed and Izzy were on the same page, at the height of Blackbeard, their partnership, when things were GOOD.

And of course, Izzy’s going along with all this. He's not telling him anything about the way they're different now, about how they finished breaking their matelotage 6 months back, about how they've been living at arms length for years, about how this simply isn't who they are to each other any more. He couldn't possibly do that, not when he gets to live the best days of his life all over again, just for a few short days. Maybe he'll get a week or two, if he's really lucky.

It's hurting him, obviously, it feels like his heart is being ripped out every time Ed touches him, every time he corners him in the depths of the ship (still so untrusting of this unknown crew- not helped by how they treat Izzy. He sees the side eyes and cruel comments and notices in a way the present version of him never did, too wrapped up in Stede and the madness of this ship) but hey. Izzy’s a masochist. He'll take anything Ed gives him, and he'll especially take this opportunity to have one last taste of what he's lost.

At the time it faded so slowly he didn't realise he was losing it until it was all gone, but he won't make that mistake this time. He knows their time together is limited, and he's going to take every fucking second he can and hold it close forever. If Ed makes him leave after he remembers? After he realises the way Izzy took advantage of him? It's worth it, to have this again, one last time.

#this is probably somewhere between too fleshed out and not fleshed out enough. yet somehow still not the right amount of substance #but i didnt want to waste another month making the additional thoughts ive had on this idea flow w the rest so this is what you get #perhaps ill come back and add my (mostly eds perspective on all of this) thoughts in at some point. who knows #if you want a vibe as to where that goes ; huge inspirations in this concept draw upon the lyrics #'But I hate when I feel like this / And I never hated you' :'''''')#(lyrics from poke by frightened rabbit which is your edizzy song recc of the week)#nyxtalks #ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #israel hands #edward teach #blackbeard #blackhands #edizzy #post dedicated to my dearest sage for bouncing this concept with me !!! i love u SO much

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one-starry-knight · 1 year

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Peppino tip jar fail

#art stuff #pizza tower #peppino spaghetti #noisette #the noise #comics #I ended up cutting a whole gag from this bc it didn't flow. kinda sad bc I thought it was funny #I have more to add but I haven't slept and also haven't sketched the bonus joke yet

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moonviewer · 9 months

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"I will keep going forward, no matter how hopeless it might seem."

(please do not repost my art and just leave a link to it if you'd like to share instead, thank you!)

#shining nikki #sn nikki #my art #sn #nikkiverse #i drew this for an art contest #but i really drew it because i wanted to say something with its message #and because i needed a reason to paint something to practice my art style #lol #i tried to make it so even those who don't know its context could understand...at least a little bit #i've recently been watching Naoki Saito (an illustration advice youtube channel) and i've been wanting to try out the things i learned ther #this time i wanted to try conveying a concept/message just in 1 image alone #at first it was honestly more difficult than i thought i tried it for days #but nothing worked and when i finally did get the idea that became this drawing it was because i was thinking one night of how #nikki was someone who has failed thousands and thousands of times yet she never gave up #i admired that because i was thinking of how i just keep failing in my goals that night #that was when i thought i wanted to convey that strength that nikki has #that strength that i also wished to have #and that was when the concept just flowed to me like water so easily #isnt it strange that its only when i start to feel like theres something i want to say that i finally find the idea to express it #something so obvious that i don't even realize lol #for context this image is about someone who lived in a world operated by AI where all emotions and creativity are shut down and dominated b #AIs kinda like the current AI crisis in the art community #but this someone believed in a world with vivid color #and the heart that created such an imperfect yet beautiful world before AI dominated it #thats what i wanted to express #thanks for reading if anyone bothers reading my long rants lol :)

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malach-1-te · 2 months

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Fuck I love Incredibox

Doodle or something

Holy shit look he grew

#incredibox #wekiddy wekiddy #incredibox fanart #el cool p is so silly though like #and the beatbox mf too #idk what a furby looks like actually #artists on tumblr #incredibox wekiddy #wekiddy fanart #wekiddy wekiddy back back and bily me cab cab in a miami grab a caf this is midi dix #back in da digidy nine oh in da R P and a flow do da kityde kitty lee king kong #i used to be weirded out by this version but now i wanna hold it #the pixel guy needs more love bro i didnt see any fanart yet

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flowgence · 2 months

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Late Discord doodles… and a Dr. Fox lol

#he’s fun to draw #I’ve said it already but yea #also the horse is an oc #midnight oddity but I don’t have anything outside of my sketchbook for her yet #mlp #discord #discord mlp #mlp discord #my litte pony #dr fox unikitty #unikitty #flow’s art

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asterkallium · 3 months

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i have to be honest, every time i draw piplup i have to look up how to draw piplup

#piplups have such smaller bodies than i remember them #and yet their heads are small too #there are a lot of reasons i'm not an animator #...yet #not art #i am piplup and you are the flowing grain #also WOWZA the NOTES ON THIS THING #i dont want to make an individual post about that but it needs to be said somewhere #my notes have been at 99+ for three days #literally on my activity page rn and they're back up to 45 #sorry make that 46 #47 #so uhh if i miss your message #50 #there is a reason #thank you so much friends

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weirdfishy · 9 months

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not-quite-yet 3

nqy 1 - 2

. my ko-fi 💛

ao3 link

it's a freeing thing, being spiderman. super strength, speed healing, enhanced awareness, taking your fears and shoving them out the window, downdowndown from up on high.

a mask.

give a man a mask, yk? spiderman's sarcasm and light, quick wit pours thoughtlessly from his lips, evasiveness n fight like a buried memory-- confidence in his bones; one second miles is stammering over his sketchbook (edge to edge with his muse, page after page) n the next spiderman's mask is pulled on n he's high in the sky, whoops and cheers alongside his muse's full, deep laughter, dancing through the air, around each other, to the top of the nearest high rise.

spiderman's muse (in other worlds, they're called lovers, but miles- spiderman- the gwen he knows is from another universe n he wasn't "supposed" to be bit at all, so he'll take muse, he'll take best friend) joins him at the top of a spire, base plate barely big enough to hold their shoes n the wind whipping around them, neither of them feeling the chill (it comes with the second skin, with the uniform and the abilities-- it's learning to make your suit warmer)

they've taken the arm closest and draped it over his shoulder like usual, miles wrapping his own across their back, hand squeezing them closer, settled at their hip, a mere look at each other before they're free falling backwards, still clinging to one another, other hand out, air between fingers and mouths pulled taut into wide, toothy smiles. then miles is nudging their shoulder, hand poised for rock-paper-scissors, which they return in kind (oh, miles can almost see the smirk beyond the mask, knowing full well none of those three options will be used by his opponent), miles making a rock with his fist, a peace sign made in response. "peace over war, love," then they're webbed to another building, swinging into the bottom of their curve in the direction of downtown, for whatever spot the other spider feels like eating at, and on and on the night will run, swinging up, down, around n around, across alleys and the sides of buildings, through crowds n noise but always focused on each other, leading then following, following and leading in turns, twisting, spinning, leaping, falling, catching and climbing, over n over until the duo is on the roof of miles' dorm at 5 am, sitting shoulder to shoulder on the edge, masks off- sipping from two different cups n switching every so often, calm n quiet; existing with each other, spider n spider, miles n hobie.

(miles doesn't need his mask when he's with hobie; freedom is easier to reach, with them)

#you always hear abt inconsistency w other kinds of artists but istg my writing flow is never the same #not-quite-yet #idky but i like imagining hobie n miles in their not-quite-yet stage #as much as i love a good get together fic i feel like the space of pining isn't explored as much on its lonesome #its routine and plausible denial in flirting n a building friendship and time so much time as friends before lovers #punkflower #flowerpunk #miles x hobie #hobie x miles #spiderverse #nqy 3 #also hey ho decided to use they/them for hobie randomly

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luke-o-lophus · 13 days

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I need more fics of Aziraphale and Crowley witnessing child abuse from the sidelines, over the years, arguing about their roles/responsibility/ability

I need more AziraCrow adoptive parents fics

I need more AziraCrow saving children

I need more AziraCrow comforting adults nobody saved as children

#this is a need #i want to write but I'm not there yet #can't see the flow yet #if anyone has reccs send my way please #need this so bad #aziraphale #crowley #good omens #aziracrow #ineffable husbands #ineffable spouses

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heavenlyeros · 1 year

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they’re just wrapping up some data sync and will be yours in a minute <3

best nimbo . . . i love them so much. i want to scream about everything that makes them amazing but i do not wish to give anything away for people who want to meet them and haven’t yet. grant me the strength and wisdom to be more like nimbus . . . in heart, head, and behind . . .

#nimbus #destiny lightfall #destiny 2 #destiny the game #cloudstrider #destiny nimbus #destiny #how many destiny tags have i got #we shall never know #if you don't like the character your loss but please keep that in your own posts #less anxiety more flow with the river #lightfall #tags ahoy #enby superhero of my heart #they have No Right to strut around lookin like that straight into my soul And Yet

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hum--hallelujah · 9 months

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like a sledgehammer to a disco ball - 3.9k words, Fun Ghoul angst and protective Kobra Kid

Kobra jerks awake at the first creak of the floor. The only person who has any right to be in his room at night knows better than to step where the floor creaks. Instinct takes over and he's holding his blaster at body height by the time his brain and eyes are awake enough to see through the dark.

"It's me, it's me, it's me," Ghoul stammers, holding his hands defensively in the air. Only, it sounds more like "'smee," because of the way Ghoul is slurring. And he's bleeding.

Kobra drops the blaster as soon as he realizes that the dark smear across Ghoul's face is blood. "What the hell, man," he hisses, groping in the dark for a light with one hand and trying to pat Ghoul down to make sure he's not like, actively dying, with the other. He could be blackout drunk or he could have gone out alone like he does sometimes and any number of things could have happened. The cold metal of an old flashlight meets his fingers and he flicks it on, shining the dim light over Ghoul.

"I did something stupid," Ghoul says. Only, it comes out as "Uh did su'hn stooid," wavering slightly, because the entire right side of Ghoul's face, from the corner of his mouth to his cheekbone, is sliced open. There's a horrific flap of flesh hanging loose that's supposed to be connected to the rest of his face. That's where the blood staining his face and clothes and hands is coming from, and why when he speaks, it sounds wrong.

"Holy shit," Kobra whispers, feeling cold Zone night air sting his eyes because they're open so wide. "Okay. Okay, what happened?" He holds Ghoul carefully by one arm, feels the way he's shaking. He's always shaking, except when he's got his hands in a bomb. This is worse than normal though. This is so much worse than anything Kobra's ever seen.

Ghoul shrugs, waves his hands vaguely and wildly. Kobra hisses a sharp breath through his teeth, frantically runs a hand through his hair. "Okay," He says again. "I'm gonna get-" He needs Jet, de facto medic, he needs Party, needs his brother-

"No," Ghoul says sharply, and that at least is completely clear. His eyes are wild from what Kobra can see in the dark. If human eyes could glow, his would. He grips Kobra's arms. "Please don't," he mumbles around the gruesome injury. His voice is high and frantic, and it has to hurt to talk. "Just you."

Kobra freezes. There's a slowly building feeling of dread, growing stronger by the moment. He pulls Ghoul off him, holds him by the wrists. "Okay. Just me," he promises, and feels sick about it. "Just me."

Ghoul noticeably relaxes, though he's still trembling head to toe, and lets Kobra drag him across the diner in near-silence aside from the occasional seemingly involuntary whimper on Ghoul's part, into the single-stall bathroom with a barely working lightbulb. Somehow, they make it past the front room where Party sleeps without waking him, much as Kobra wants to let his brother take care of this. He's practically trembling at how badly he wants Pois right now.

There's a medical kit in the cabinet that Kobra pulls out immediately. He knows how to handle this, physically speaking. It's whatever else, the shit he doesn't know and is scared to find out, like how this freaking happened, that makes him nervous. Ghoul stands in the flickering light like he doesn't know what to do.

"Sit the fuck down," Kobra snaps nervously, gesturing to the toilet lid. Ghoul does. Kobra pulls a dubiously clean rag from the cabinet and eyes it. It scares him to see Ghoul like this. Usually if he's scared, he fights. He hisses and spits and claws at whoever comes near him. More often than not, that's Kobra. But this, the wide-eyed jittering, is a whole other animal.

"This whole thing is gonna suck," he says stiffly. Ghoul nods. With a little more light, Kobra can see the thick, shiny blood streaming from the wound through his cheek. It isn't enough that Kobra's afraid Ghoul will bleed out, but the cut is so long and clear through and absolutely grotesque. He crouches down in front of where Ghoul is sitting, sideways on the toilet, and he can't tell if Ghoul is looking at him or through him, almost as if he's the ghost.

In a quick motion that startles both of them, probably, Kobra grabs the back of Ghoul's head with one hand and presses the rag to the seeping wound with the other. Ghoul's eyes go even wider and even greener, and what starts out as a shout of pain from him turns into a choked keening sound. Hearing it feels like being stabbed.

"What happened?" Asks Kobra again, when he's convinced that the bleeding has slowed enough to try and actually deal with this thing. He twists the handle on the faucet on and off, on and off, enough times that the ancient water pump starts up and clean water gurgles into the sink. He cleans the rag that way, then wets it and wrings it out before shutting the water off.

Ghoul's shoulders rise and fall in short, panicky breaths. "I'm sorry," he says. "I'm sorry. I'm- I didn't think, it was stupid, I'm sorry," he continues babbling like that before going silent again aside from the sharp sounds of his breathing.

In a testament to Kobra's selfishness, his biggest worry is that Ghoul took his motorbike out for a spin and crashed it. He can't think of what could have caused something like this. He has visions of his bike sliding out on a turn, crumbled metal and Ghoul's body flying through the air. But if that had happened he'd be hurt other than this. If that had happened he might be dead.

"Yo," he says quietly. "Chill. Just tell me what happened." He presses the now-damp rag to Ghoul's face, trying to ignore just how grotesque the wound really is. Maybe because it's fresh, maybe because of the fear, but somehow it's worse than the space where Jet's other eye used to be. Kobra never wanted to see an injury of that level on another person again in his life, let alone someone he cares about.

Ghoul flinches away, but Kobra shoots him a look and it must process somehow, because he stills and lets Kobra clean the already drying blood away from the edges of the wound with barely a whine. "It was stupid," he repeats, his voice shaking as much as it's slurring. "I don't know why I did it, Kid."

Something about the way he says that, voice small and wavering, sends a chill down Kobra's throat. Sudden understanding dawns on him. The blood on Ghoul's hands. He's not injured anywhere else. "You did that to yourself?" Kobra asks hoarsely.

Ghoul's eyes snap onto his and the rest of the color drains from his face. Kobra thinks he's going to pass out for a second, but he doesn't. He pulls as far away as he can, scrabbling awkwardly against the cold tiles and porcelain of the bathroom. "I don't know what I though, I was stupid, I don't- Kobra," he whines, with enough animalistic despair that Kobra wants suddenly to burst into tears, if he weren't so utterly stunned.

"Ghoul, calm down, I've gotta stitch it still," he says on autopilot. "Cool your engine, man."

Maybe it's the practicality of the thing that makes Ghoul momentarily stop panicking. "I'm sorry," he says again, tears welling in his eyes that he then blinks away half-frantically. Kobra's never heard him apologize for anything before tonight. He never wants to hear it again.

"It's okay, man. I've got you." He replies. If his own voice is shaking now, too, no the hell it isn't. "Come on, you have to let me..." he trails off, eyes wide. "Ghoul, why..." Then he shakes his head. He can't think about that now. He needs to disinfect the wound and stitch it up. And it's going to hurt Ghoul really, really badly.

He reaches behind him, grabs at the bottle of alcohol. This stuff is rare out in the Zones. They try to use it as little as possible. Only in emergencies. This is enough of an emergency, though. This is a fucking crisis.

He pours the bare minimum of the alcohol onto another piece of cloth, feels the cold soak in. Ghoul watches every move with jerking, stilted intensity. Kobra looks up at him from where he's now kneeling on the cold tile. He puts a hand behind Ghoul's head again. "This is going to hurt," he warns. They've nearly gouged each other's eyes out before, yet suddenly Kobra feels like he's going to be sick at the thought of causing Ghoul any more pain. Ghoul shuts his eyes in preparation.

Ghoul still nearly screams when Kobra dabs the alcohol over his wound. Kobra can see it in the way he holds his breath, the spring-tight tension in Ghoul's entire body. The only noise he makes is a quiet, drawn out whine, though. When a tear streaks down his cheekbone, Kobra catches it before a drop of salt can enter the wound.

"'Kay," he says in a ragged whisper. "That's done. Now I have to-" he gestures like he's sewing. Ghoul's eyes pop open to see what he's saying and he visibly forces himself to breathe again.

"'Kay," Ghoul says back in an equally torn up voice.

It only takes Kobra three tries to thread a needle. Medical supplies of any type are hard to come by, a whole new kind of commodity, but this stash has been here for as long as he can remember, just in case. Blaster burns, the most common injuries amongst 'Joys, come pre-cauterized. He's rarely had to sew sutures before.

Ghoul flinches back when the tip of the needle first touches the edge of his torn skin, and Kobra pauses. "Hold still," he grumbles, more out of familiar sniping than any real frustration at this point. He keeps his hand in Ghoul's hair the entire time he sews.

The feeling of a needle piercing flesh is horrible. The fact that it's his friend, someone he'd give his life for before seeing them hurt, is even worse. Kobra wants to fucking throatpunch whoever did this to Ghoul, or better, do the same thing to them, before he remembers with a sinking feeling in his stomach that Ghoul did this to himself.

He ties off the suture just barely keeping his hands from shaking. He doesn't know how Ghoul does this with bombs. Ghoul flinches again, violently, when Kobra cuts the excess line, and Kobra has to jerk back to keep from catching a flailing, uncoordinated fist in the face.

"Hey," he snaps. "Ghoul!"

Ghoul slips off the toilet lid and onto the floor almost as if he intended it but halfway as an accident and immediately curls in on himself. He pulls his knees to his chest and curls his arms around his head and Kobra can hear him hyperventilating. Kobra fucking freezes. He's used to fighting and wrestling and knee-jerk reactions that wind up with someone sporting a black eye. He is terrified right now. And there's still Ghoul's blood on his hands, too.

"Ghoul..." He cautiously reaches out, puts a hand on Ghoul's leg. Ghoul twitches, lets out a hiccupy sound that takes a moment to register in Kobra's mind as a sob. Ghoul, chaos loving, cackling Ghoul, is crying. And not just a single tear, now, his whole body is shuddering with the force of how hard he's crying. Kobra's heart is pounding with how hard he does not know what's happening, but he grips Ghoul's arm and lightly shakes him. "Hey, I'm still here, man."

Ghoul makes that keening whine again and Kobra thinks at first that he's going to pull away at best, or throw a real punch at worst. They fight enough, for any and no reason at all, that he expects it now. That's their normal. This isn't.

Ghoul scrambles to his knees, his hands finding the front of Kobra's shirt. This restroom is small, they're already in close quarters. But maybe unintentionally, maybe just scrabbling for a little purchase on anything, Ghoul winds up grabbing onto Kobra. And Kobra has always had a hard time letting anything go.

Ghoul's forehead crashes into his shoulder and Kobra instinctively puts his hands up, grabs back onto Ghoul in return. Ghoul's usual shaking is familiar to him, but the repressed wracking sobs aren't. Kobra clutches desperately around Ghoul's back, like he could hold together what he's just sewn up, like if he keeps Ghoul close enough he can't shake into pieces. No one should be able to break Ghoul. Not even Ghoul himself.

The edges of the cabinet dig into Kobra's back, but he ignores it. Ghoul is folding in on himself, making himself as small as he can against Kobra, and Kobra doesn't fucking know what to do. He's never seen Ghoul cry like this. He's never seen anyone cry like this.

"It hurts," cries Ghoul suddenly.

"I know," Kobra says, before he realizes that crying like this is probably making everything worse, that he'd worried about salt in the wound a minute before for this exact reason. He can't imagine the pain Ghoul is probably in.

"It didn't hurt at first," Ghoul mumbles, then chokes on a sob. "It didn't hurt when I started. And then it did."

Kobra wants to ask again, why? But he won't get anything intelligible. There's a part of him that doesn't want to know. He's terrified of knowing the truth. Instead, he threads his fingers through Ghoul's hair again and just repeats, "I know. I know."

A few minutes pass in speedy, spiraling silence. The only sound between them is their shared too-fast breathing.

"I can't," stammers Ghoul finally, after his cries have tapered out into raspy gasps. "I can't turn it on or off."

"Huh?" Is all Kobra can think to say. "Ghoul, you're not making sense, nothing about this makes sense," he snips, too quick and too tense. He's so beyond his depth. He wants Jet or Party to come help but he can't have it his way because he promised. He promised Ghoul. He wants to hit something. A wall, just to feel the impact. To imagine he's hitting whatever it is that hurt his friend so badly he hurt himself.

Ghoul sniffs. All Kobra can see of him is the top of his head and the cheek with the stitches. The wound is swollen and red and is going to leave a horrific scar. Kobra clenches his fist tighter behind Ghoul's back. "When I'm having fun or not," Ghoul says. "I can't. I am or I'm not. But."

"But what?" For fuck's sake, Kobra just wants to understand. He can read Ghoul like a book from cover to cover most times, and it scares him that he's so lost right now.

"It isn't good enough," he mumbles. "It's... It's in my fuckin' name, Kid, if I can't live up to that what am I?"

Kobra stares, wide-eyed, at the wall across from him. Something clicks. The clean cut through Ghoul's face, clearly from a recently sharpened knife, clearly intentional, reached from the corner of his lips almost to his ear. "Oh fuck no," he whispers. "Hell no. What the fuck. You're not-" He feels himself shaking suddenly, with restrained searing hot anger. Ghoul cut his head open, mutilated himself, to make himself permanently grin. "You're not fucking beholden to your fucking name," Kobra says. He never swears this much, only in his own mind. He's running out of words. "Fuck," he says, with feeling.

Ghoul shudders again. "I'm fuckin insane, aren't I?" He asks with sudden clarity.

It's exactly what Kobra had been thinking, for once completely unable to figure out Ghoul's mind, but he can't just say that. He can't just say that he's terrified because nothing makes sense and he's never going to freaking leave Ghoul alone again because this is all completely unhinged on so many levels that he can't even begin to sort through it. He can't say anything. He hopes Ghoul is sane enough to understand that, at least.

He just holds his friend tighter. He wants his brother more than anything right now, wants Party to come and take this weight out of his hands, but a part of him knows that even if he did, he wouldn't be able to let go of Ghoul. Why didn't Ghoul want anyone else but him? Why, after pretty much imprinting on Party like a feral kitten when they'd first met, to the point that sometimes Kobra thinks bitterly than Ghoul might know Party better than his own brother does, did he come to him? Why did he do any of this?

If a few tears of his own drip down Kobra's nose and land in Ghoul's tangled hair, no the hell they don't. He's never seen anyone go to pieces like this and he's struck dumb at the fact that it's literal. Very, very literally, Ghoul has gone to pieces. Taken a knife, that's probably still lying on the floor of his abandoned-office bedroom, and cut a line through his own cheek just so others might see a smile there.

There's crazy in his veins. Acid, maybe. And Kobra's always known that even if Party recognized it first. Watching your whole family die, failing to save your baby sibling, doesn't leave a person without any scars. Only, now, the scar is far too visible. Kobra's always known that Ghoul is more wild than any of them. Feral, unpredictable. He was raised by a pair of Killjoys who named themselves Hoot and Holler, and the thing is, a ghoul is just a ghost, and ghosts wail too. He should have known.

"I should've known," he says out loud, the first words in a while. He knows Ghoul so well. Better than he knows himself. He should have known something was wrong. He should never have left him alone. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." He can't even blink. He stares hard at the opposite wall and tries not to scream.

Ghoul shakes his head against Kobra's shoulder and winces. "Nuh-uh," he mumbles. "I'm crazy, man. I'm insane." The fuzzy way it sounds around the stitches and the swelling just seems like proof. Just last night Ghoul's cheek was smooth and soft as he grinned across a table in triumph after winning a card game. How is it that that was just a few hours ago? He shudders again. "I'm scared," he says more quietly.

"Me too," Kobra says. As soon as the sun comes up he thinks he's going to storm out into the desert and find something, anything to beat up. Even a freakin cactus would do at this point. He doesn't know how he's going to explain this to Pois or Jet but he knows that much. He's gonna shake so hard he blows up, like a can of soda, unless he hits something. "I fucking hate you," he snaps suddenly.

Ghoul starts to flinch away, but Kobra doesn't let him. In fact, he curls tighter around him without even knowing why. "What the hell," Ghoul rasps.

Kobra hisses through his teeth. Speaking of living up to names. He fucking hates anyone who hurts his friends. But he can't say it. Hard as he tries, in the one moment of clarity about his own mind that he has, he can't speak.

"I fucking hate me, too," Ghoul says finally. The single dusty lightbulb above them flickers. If it goes out, they'll be in total darkness. Kobra thinks one or both of them might have a wicked eyeshine by now. The desert makes you wild. For some people, they're born that way.

"I think you're my best friend," Kobra finally manages to whisper. It isn't exactly what he was going for. It's not something he would ever say if he had thought of it before it popped out of his mouth. But Ghoul gets the point. Of course he does. Ghoul always gets his sharp edges, snakebite teeth and misspoken definitions and all.

"I think you're mine," Ghoul says back. "I'm-"

Kobra smacks the back of his head, like this is in any way normal, like they aren't collapsed on a dim bathroom floor in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning and like one of them isn't mutilated for life by his own hand. Like this isn't the worst thing they've ever gone through together. "If you say you're sorry again, I'll cut you myself."

It's rough, and it's torn up and pained and choked, but Ghoul laughs. Just a short bark of laughter, hardly like the dry, rasping cackle that Kobra knows so well. It sounds like agony but it also sounds like the sun coming up. Kobra makes a noise in the back of his throat, more whine than laugh, but he's so close to blowing up that it's as good as it gets. He wants to freaking die if that would keep Ghoul in one piece.

Ghoul shifts in Kobra's arms and pulls away just far enough to look him in the eye. He clumsily wipes at the tears and snot all over his face and Kobra has to snap a hand out to catch his wrist before he unthinkingly swipes at the fresh wound and stitches. "Kobra," Ghoul says, shivering in the dark. The sun won't take long to come up once it starts but until it does, the Zones are freezing. "Kobra."

"Yeah, man, I'm still right here." Kobra forces himself to look Ghoul in the eyes and not the stitches. The wound takes up so much of his face. It's all Kobra can see when he looks at Ghoul, his best friend's mutilated mouth, sliced open by his own hand. Kobra flinches just imagining it. He focuses instead on Ghoul's green eyes, boring holes into his head with the desperate pleading in them. "I'm still right here," Kobra repeats, quieter. Reminding himself, too.

Ghoul doesn't blink. Kobra doesn't blink. Their eyes reflect the dim light back at each other. This is what wild animals must feel for each other. Terror. Uncertainty. Just themselves, each other, and whatever comes. Ghoul licks his lips, tongue flicking briefly, visibly, to the corner of his mouth that he cut open. "Don't let me-" Ghoul starts and then falters. "You gotta make sure," he says. "Don't let me- do stupid shit like this, don't let me go crazy again, Kobra, please."

Kobra stares back at him, matching Ghoul's trembling desperation. He's known Ghoul since the day their crew found him, shell shocked between the shelves of an empty gas station with the bodies of his parents and previous crew around him. Perpetually shaking hands and feral bared teeth, animal eyeshine. No one can match Ghoul for determination, and no one knows Kobra as well as he does. Even if Ghoul does know his brother better than him, the same is true in reverse.

Kobra Kid has a hard fucking time ever letting go of anything once he's got it. Fun Ghoul holds on too loosely. They're both terrified. What a pair they make. But when Kobra Kid makes a promise, he means it. He grabs the ends of Ghoul's hair and pulls, not too hard, but hard enough. That's their normal. Play fighting and hair pulling, and they both know it's a kind of language for when they can't speak. "Okay," he says, and because it's a promise, he repeats it. "Okay."

#uhhhh anyway. come to killjoys world with me #I keep calling these two my mongoose and snake #they take out their worst on each other but at the same time it's like they were *made* for each other #also a few notes in the tags: kobra repeats himself a lot. that's intentional. it's because I do it irl #quite honestly at this point I might almost have a stutter??#anyway also there's a TON of super vague song references in here. I almost called this ''a scar away from falling apart''#but I couldn't stop thinking about that one boygenius song while I wrote this. would you still love me if it turns out I'm insane?#also the two(2) minor refs to famous last words!!!!#and very very loosely the ''what a pair they make'' line is bc what a catch donnie came up on my playlist right then #also this is WAY more swearing than I would usually write but... it just felt right? like it helped the flow?? and fit the characters? idk #ANYWHOMST. random danger days precanon fic. the girl isn't here yet.#she speaks!#HMMM do I need a writing tag for this blog?#she writes!#danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #kobra kid #fun ghoul #K I think I've got it covered #wait trigger tags #self-harm tw #self mutilation tw

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