Fright_Train

[bugaboo25]

I Will Forever Love You Masterpost

Alright here's the plan. I am gonna write this. I'll post chapters to tumblr after I finish, and once I get about ten chapters done, I'll start posting them to ao3. I can't promise a timeline considering my current schedule, but I do plan on writing this to completion. I'll probably go through and make corrections before I post it to ao3, too, so there will be differences between them (once I get it started).

Chapter 1: Separation of an Unbreakable Bond (I did it for you, Damian)

Chapter 2: Hidden Behind a Mask (But is it really still a mask?)

Chapter 3: Saturdays are Relaxing (They really aren't)

[bugaboo25]

Bees and Varroa

The way in which a queen is chosen in a hive is completely random. A female larva is taken away from its home and explicitly fed what is called “royal jelly.” The larva itself doesn’t matter, it just needs to be fed this perfectly designed nutrient so that it can grow into the most important bee within said hive.

But what happens when the queen, this completely random larva, is introduced to the Varroa mite? 

Well, you see, at first it may not seem like much. The worker bees are forced to work more. They give up some of their honey to the queen bee so that she can thrive, and the worker bees start to feel the beginning of a hunger pang. And at first, it doesn’t seem to bother the worker bees, because at least the queen is thriving. The queen is living.

Then, suddenly and without warning, the mite takes over just a little more. Instead of just a little bit of honey, now the worker bees are forced to give up 50% of their honey. What happens now; what happens to the bees that have larva that need the honey to grow? Well, they take that 50% of what they’re used to and they split it up, giving more to the larva with just barely any for themselves.

The mite grows again.

The queen isn’t even eating all of the honey anymore, but the worker bees are giving her 75% of their honey, and the bees are pretending like it’s okay. They are splitting the last 25% like it’s nothing. 

But it’s not nothing. The bees are starving with only 25%. So they stop making larva. But the Varroa can’t have that, because she needs the worker bees to keep making more worker bees, so she can continue to grow her stash of honey that she keeps all for herself. Honey she will never be able to eat on her own.

So she takes away the ability of the bees to choose whether or not they want to have larva. She forces them to create more larva, and she tells the worker bees that it’s all about the life of the larva. She claims that it’s inhumane to not have larva just because you don’t want it, because every possibility of life should be looked at with immeasurable value.

Then that life becomes nothing but honey production to her.

Eventually, the Varroa spreads - because it always spreads - and suddenly, half of the worker bees are happy to give 75% of their honey to the queen. In fact, they want to give 90% of their honey to the queen, because she promises them that she will use that honey to protect the larva. The larva that she has started eating, so she didn’t have to eat her honey.

The other half of the worker bees are screaming, and begging, and pleading. Hoping beyond hope that the other bees can see what the queen has become, but because they want to protect the larva, the screaming bees are ignored.

The Varroa spreads even more. 

It isn’t until the worker bees are giving the queen 99.9% of their honey that they all collectively notice that something is wrong with the queen. So they rebel, they fight back. But the only way for the remaining bees to survive is to destroy the hive. So the bees now have to choose between being homeless and unwanted, or allowing the Varroa infected queen to keep stealing their honey and their larva.

But you see, when a queen bee is infected with a Varroa Mite, the worker bees kill her.

[bugaboo25]

With a Gun Against His Head - Short Story by @bugaboo25

Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind, but, with a gun against his head, he found that he couldn’t care less about what his mind said. The voices were finally quiet, and all that was left was a black endlessness of nothing. For the first time in his life, he finally felt peace. Quiet. Alone. 

But how could he actually be alone? Those voices had been there his entire life, and now his mind was running. Curious of the possibilities. Where had his companions gone? Where was the anxiety, the depression, the constant pressure on his chest that kept him moving forward every day due to the stress? Where had the swarm gone? The cacophony of voices overflowing in his head that never let him rest?

For the first time in his life, he finally felt alone. It took a gun pressed to his temple, a finger on the trigger, a certainty of death to get the movement that incessantly pressed on the spot behind his breast where most people experience joy to stop. His heart was still beating, but the feeling was, for the first time, fleeting. He no longer noticed the thump thump thump of each beat his heart made. It was… nice.

It was in this moment that he realized that, with a gun pressed against his head, he was for the first time fully and truly himself. He wanted the feeling to stay, to never disappear. But if the gun left his head, then surely he would begin to feel the pit pit pattering of all the mental illnesses he had been hiding from his family. 

But if the gun stayed, if the trigger was pulled, he would never again get the chance to feel so whole again. How could one man, a boy really, be expected to find a way to pull himself together after this entire mess? He had finally been given a chance to experience what normality is, to know what he had been missing out on his entire life. How could he go back? 

The running of his mind was rampant now, no longer stopping for him to gather his wits. He didn’t know which would be better, he had no idea how to argue.

Under normal circumstances, he would speak his mind, but, with a gun against his head, his mind was finally quiet, and he just couldn’t let the feeling go.

He pulled the trigger.

[kzele]

So, remember the scene where the symbiote takes down the Sinister Six piloting Peter's body? Well, what if Shocker manages to get it off of Peter and they just see this kid in boxers and a tank top who's dead asleep? And poor Peter wakes up, almost has a panic attack, and is clearly confused by what he's doing in the park when he last remembers getting into bed. The Six is like, "Oh, crap. We almost killed this random kid instead of Spider-Man." The symbiote tries to force itself back onto Peter and absolutely no one is having it.

Later, when Venom tries the "Peter Parker is Spider-Man" reveal, the supervillains call it out on trying to pin some innocent kid with being Spidey, when it's clearly just ticked that Peter didn't like getting possessed and is trying to ruin his life for no good reason.

[thecatchat]

Electro is definitely the one to charge in first to defend Peter because 1. He knew Peter and the guy is a nerd who kept getting shoved into lockers and trying to imagine the two as one and the same is dumb and 2. OH MY GOD THAT'S PETER! LIKE "THE GUY WHO REMEMBERS EVERONES BIRTHDAYS AND BUYS THEM TREATS EVEN WHEN HIS FAMILY IS GOING THROUGH ROUGH TIMES" PETER!!!! WHY HIM????

Shocker is probably the second to go help because he is a Professional and he has Standards. Namely, not getting kids involved. Kid is too skinny anyhow, needs some more meat on his bones. And a blanket. He's the one who, after getting that symbiote away, actually knows what to do in terms of first aid and getting him warm and checking for shock and such.

Sandman and Rhino probably join in the fight to knock things around mostly. It's not to say that they're unconcerned about the fact that they almost just killed a random kid. More like they don't know how to process it so they shrug and get to helping the fight by throwing things at them.

Doc Ock probably rains in everyone named previously and after directing the fight in a more productive direction, actually looks over Peter for injuries. A man who was willing to attach robotic arms attached to his spine has to know the basics of anatomy and taken a few classes about it. He's not called doctor for nothing. Very calmly and clinically asking Peter to rate his pain on a scale of 1 to 10 while Rhino is throwing cars over the two of them and electricity is going everywhere.

Vulture only gets involved when Doc tells him to take Peter back to one of the many safe houses/labs/meeting spots around town since the boy is obviously confused and in shock. Doc would like to ask them questions about the odd black substance that seems determined to get to him. Vulture gets Peter up and out of the fight and kinda cares? Like, yeah, this is a child, and this is a messed up situation, but he'd much rather be getting revenge on Osborne or the Spider right now. Might recognize him as Harry Osborne's best friend? Maybe?

So, Peter ends up at one of the many safe houses the villains have, wearing clothes borrowed from Electros old closet (the closest to his size), squished next to Rhino on the couch (to better warm up because Rhino is a human furnace), Electro is both very happy to catch up with Peter and very unhappy at the circumstances, Sandman is grubling about not being able to squash spider man with Vulture, Doc is "not interrogating" Peter about the symbiote, and Shocker is actually trying to get this kid some food because city people apparently don't know how to feed people properly because the kid is skin and bones (it's the hypermotabilism, thanks spider powers).

[detectivewebs]

YES YES SPECTACULAR SYMBIOTIE STUFF GRRRRR

[bugaboo25]

I was inspired, I suppose. Enjoy my blurb that may or may not be entertaining

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Montana was at a loss. Spider-man hadn’t made any of his normal quips since their fight had begun, and he seemed to be extra ruthless, no longer seeming to care if any of the Six got hurt while he fought them. Electro was currently trapped underneath Rhino, and Spider-man had just jumped off the bridge. The Six moved towards their downed comrades, ready to move the armored titan off of Electro.

“Wait, he’s trying to escape again!” Vulture’s words immediately threw Montana and Ock into action, the doctor’s limbs throwing him over the edge as he lunged for the arachnid-themed hero. Spider-man turned, and threw the sewer grate as he tried to disappear once more.

Montana wasn’t about to let that happen though, as he had moved as stealthily as he could towards the bug. As he faced Ock, Montana stood behind him, firing his gauntlets as quickly and efficiently as he could.

He didn’t expect it to hit, the annoying bug was always able to dodge sneak attacks. Luck was on his side, however, as Ock had dodged the grate and grabbed Spider-man by his arms and legs once again. He expected a pained scream to escape from the do-gooder. There was no way his gauntlets wouldn’t cause him pain. What he didn’t expect, however, was said hero’s costume to scream and writhe in agony. Even so, he kept the shock stream going. He was sure his confusion was clear on his face, the same way that he saw it on the faces of his comrades.

The black suit began to sludge off of the boy dangling from Ock’s arms. And it was a boy, no older than 16 wearing a white tank-top and pajama pants. The inky black goop that had fallen off of him was rolling away, putting as much distance between itself and the stream of his gauntlets as possible.

“Is that-“ Ock had started talking, but before he could finish his sentence the kid’s eyes flew open, brimming with confusion and terror.

“W-where am I?” His eyes were darting around the clearing, trying to take in all the information he possibly could. “What’s going on? I-I just went to bed, why am I here?” It was at that moment that Montana realized they hadn’t been fighting Spider-man, just some kid that had been a puppet for whatever that goop was. His eyes scanned the clearing wildly, just in time to see the mud slinging itself toward the boy at lighting fast speeds.

“Oh no ya don’t!” Montana’s voice was gravelly, and he knew how this must look to the kid. He was brought back into consciousness in the middle of a battle he shouldn’t have been a part of, with villains surrounding him at every turn. Not to mention Ock had yet to let go of his appendages. Still, he wasn’t about to let some kid be used the way he had been (he had morals, even if they were shady at best). He turned his gauntlets at the mud and began firing at it, determined to keep the kid from meeting what he could only imagine would be a horrible fate.

Ock had taken to inspecting the boy closer, his face paling as he was dragged closer to the villain’s face. “You’re just a child. There is no way you are Spider-man.” He let his eyes slide over to Montana, who was valiantly keeping the muddy looking substance at bay. “Do you know what is happening?” The boy shook his head, and he could see the signs of a mental disturbance. If the evidence presenting itself was true, then their true enemy that night had been the suit, which had simply been using the boy as nothing other than a means to an end. “I am a doctor, I will ensure that you will survive while Shocker deals with the monster that imprisoned you.” The boy’s eyes widened again, and he nervously nodded with an audible gulp. As was to be expected, he was face to face with the great Doctor Octopus after all. But, he had nothing to fear from the villain, as he was sure the child had not been a willing participant in the nights events. It was evident by the differences between the real Spider-man and the quiet yet ruthless opponent they had been fighting.

“Peter?” Electro had finally been freed from Rhino, it would seem. And it would also seem he knew their… guest?

“Max?” At Electro’s heated energy spiking in rage, he quickly corrected himself. “I-I’m sorry. Electro.” The fury radiating from Electro quickly extinguished into something akin to concern.

“What are you doing here? Doc, what’s he doing here?” Electro’s gaze had quickly shifted over to Ock, as if he had all the answers.

“From my deductions of the evidence around us, it would seem the boy was being used as a means to an end by the mud creature Shocker is currently fighting off. Will you help him in his escapade as I tend to… Peter, was it?” Electro jumped into action, ready to defend the boy that had always been kind to him before his accident, as Peter numbly shook his head.

Ock moved himself and the boy back onto the bridge where he began to look over the child. He was mentally chastising himself for not realizing sooner that they were not fighting that insufferable arachnid and instead a weird creature that had bonded to an unwilling host. Outwardly, he was looking over the boy to ensure his wellbeing. He seemed to be fine, if a little pale and clammy. Nothing a good night’s rest wouldn’t fix.

It was at that moment that Electro and Montana made their way back up to the bridge, Montana holding a squirming trash bag. He must have found somewhere, though Ock wasn’t sure if he wanted to know the full story. (He didn’t, Montana had had to kick over a trashcan, pull out the full bag while splashing juices everywhere, and then dig through to bottom to find an unused bag, all while shooting at the mud to keep it away from the kid).

“Is he okay Doc?” Electro’s voice was oozing with concern, and Montana gave him a stare that clearly read ‘why do you care so damn much?’ Electro offered a sheepish grin in return. “I knew him before the accident. He was always really sweet, if a little distracted. If I remember right, he was trying to help his aunt.” Electro shot a glance at Peter, and the boy’s face seemed to soften out of his scared state as he regarded Electro.

“Yeah, I was trying to help my aunt.” His voice was soft, but his features quickly schooled themselves into something harder. “If you don’t mind my asking, what was I doing here? I really don’t remember anything aside from laying down.”

“From what I can reckon, this” Montana held the trash bag up “black goopy thing was usin’ ya like a puppet. Tried copyin’ Spider-man.” The boy’s face grew paler than it already was, and that was a feat in and of itself. He then took a moment to look at the kid, and he found himself bristling with agitation. The poor guy was skin and bones! He looked like he ate very rarely, if at all. He steeled himself in his next words, knowing that the others wouldn’t like what he had to say. But Electro seemed to like the kid, and Sandman and Vulture were trying to wake the sleeping Rhino, so really, all he would have to deal with was Ock’s reaction.

“Ya want ta get somethin’ ta eat kid? My treat.”

[bugaboo25]

DP x DC Post

Okay so. I saw this post a while back about Danny consuming the Lazarus Waters. Like, he's just shlurping up that good shit then someone walks in on him. It put this in idea in my mind that made me cackle and I thought, why not share it with the world. Here it is:

Danny has been with the Batfam for a while now, all their secrets have been spilled. Danny is working as a vigilante known as Cardinal and he keeps his ghostliness to a minimum while Bruce is working on the GIW. They're infiltrating the League for whatever reason and they stumble onto the Lazarus Pit.

Danny: *squealing and transforming*

Batfam: ???

Danny: *swan dives into the pit while pulling out a bendy straw. starts kicking and slurping simultaneously*

Dick, whispering; what the fuck

Danny: you can't tell me you wouldn't do the same if this was a pit of chocolate

Batfam: fair

Bonus:

Tim: you realize Ra's bathes in that like, regularly, right?

Danny: *scrambling to get out, spitting out the green goodness* aw, fuck, nasty-

[bugaboo25]

I Will Forever Love You Chapter 3

Masterpost Prev

Thanks for all the kind words everyone, it's really helped keep my motivation up even though my schedule is absolutely crazy!

On to chapter 3:

Damian woke from his slumber as soon as the sun came up. Instead of remaining under his covers, he made his way to the restroom to prepare for the day. It was Saturday, yes, but weekends never meant relaxation for those in Wayne Manor. He grabbed his toothbrush, and, after lathering it to perfection, he began brushing his teeth. Slowly, Damian’s green eyes made their way to his reflection. His hand slowly came to a stop, and so he pulled the toothbrush from his mouth. His lips twitched down, so he stopped staring, stopped searching for a boy that shared his face and simply finished his morning routine.

            Once he was dressed, Damian sat on his bed. He reached underneath his mattress, pulling out a well-worn book. Damian allowed his fingers to trace the title: Cosmos by Carl Sagan. Even though he had no interest in the subject, he had read this book dozens of times. He flipped open the cover and stared at his neat handwriting, the last words his brother had ever spoken to him stared back at him. He sat in that manner for a good ten minutes, before flipping to the page that his bookmark currently resided on. He allotted himself twenty more minutes before he once again closed the novel. Damian never understood Danyal’s obsession with stars and the universe, but it was now the only way he could be close to his twin. Before he could carefully put the book back in its resting place, there was a knock on his door.

            “Baby Bird, I know you’re up!” Richard was knocking incessantly, so Damian placed his most prized possession on his desk, just out of sight of anyone that stood in the doorway. He opened the door, and Richard was immediately in his personal space. “Come on, the family’s going out for breakfast this morning, Alfred’s orders.” Damian cursed internally, if the butler had ordered they be seen in public for breakfast, then there was no possibility of not going. He allowed himself to be pulled out of his room, but not before shooting Danyal’s book a look of regret. He would have to place it back under his mattress when they returned, he just hoped Richard had not seen it.

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            Dick pulled Damian down the stairs, not letting him go until he was under Alfred’s watchful eye. He laughed to himself, knowing there was no way for him to slip away now. He pulled out his phone, already setting his plot in motion. He shot off a quick text to Tim.

            Dickie: wanna mess with Dames?

            Timber: always

            Timber: what did you have in mind?

            Dickie: there was a book sitting on his desk, cosmos or something

            Dickie: I gots to know if he’s got a thing for astronomy

            Timber: dude

            Timber: no way, it’s worn and there’s writing in it

            Timber: I am not getting attacked by demon brat again

            Dickie: ugh fine what’s it say?

            Dick opened the picture that Tim sent, and he had to stifle the sound rising in the back of his throat. I will forever love you -D. What was that doing written in one of Baby Bird’s books? It was his handwriting, that’s for sure. But Damian never said I love you, none of them did. Which, okay, maybe he should put some effort into that, but there’s no way that book was meant for anyone. It was old and worn, and Dick could make out what seemed to be a bookmark at the top of the picture. Did he get it from someone? He must have, but the only person whose name started with D in this family aside from Damian were Dick and Duke, and he didn’t give him the book and Duke sure as hell didn't give it to him. He came to the conclusion that this would require further investigation, then sat down and waited for the rest of the family.

            Tim came into the kitchen after Duke, Cass trailing behind him. He caught Dick’s eye, but he simply raised an eyebrow as he made his way to the coffee pot. The door flung open, and if the people in the room had been any other family, they would have jumped. As it was, five sets of eyes turned to look at Jason as he wore a large grin. As time continued forward, the Pit Rage had calmed to a point where he only had episodes a couple times a month. With the knowledge that he had better learned to control it and it was happening less often, Jason had once again started hanging around the manor. Alfred must have invited him to breakfast, as he joined everyone else in waiting for Bruce.

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            Slipping into the limo with the rest of his family, Tim allowed himself to take some time to consider what he had done that morning. He had been so ready to use Cosmos to tease Damian, but as soon as he saw the state of the book and the neatly written words just inside the cover, he had decided against it. Obviously, the novel was important to Damian, but due to the lack of anything else related to astronomy in his room, he had to guess it was for more personal reasons. If the youngest of the Bats was anything, it was less than receptive when it came to talking about personal matters. He also didn’t want to give Damian any reason to start attacking him again. Sure, it had been years since the last time he was on the stabby end of his katana, and they had gotten to a point where Tim was comfortable teasing him, but he didn’t want to risk anything. If it had only been a book that showed the beginnings of a new hobby, then he would’ve gone to town on the annoying big brother role. But it was obvious from the old, definitely overused pages, that it was something more than that.

            Dick would try to pry. He always tackled opportunities to get to know more details about any of his siblings; but Tim would stay out of this. Honestly, he just hoped that he had managed to get the book back exactly as it had been left. Damian was perceptive, and he would definitely notice if his possessions were left even a centimeter out of place. They all would.

            “Allioop!” Dick came flying through the door, sprawling out across Tim and Jason, who had sat in the space beside him. Tim swatted at Dick’s hair, and Jason started lightly slapping at his stomach.

            “Get off, Dickface! Sit like a normal person, next to met not on me!” Jason was grumbling, a scowl sitting on his features. The fondness that was in his eyes was covered, but not unnoticeable to anyone that was in the vehicle. Tim took that second to check and sure enough, everyone had piled in during his musings. Cass, Damian, and Duke (who was snickering into his hand, the traitor) were sat on the opposite end of the limo, and Bruce was sat in the passenger seat next to Alfred.

            Dick pulled himself off of his brothers and threw his arm across his forehead, leaning against the seat and the door. “Oh woe is me, no one appreciates my fun.” He cracked an eye open, and the look he shot towards Jason and Tim was one filled with mirth and amusement.

            “I would refute, Richard, but your ‘fun’ often ends with you acting as a if you are a kicked puppy.” All eyes shot to Damian, because holy shit he just dissed one of them in a non-demeaning way. And was that a smile tugging at his lips? It was barely there but – oh my god, it was. Tim’s mouth dropped, because was the demon brat acting like part of the family? “Don’t strain yourself, Drake.” Damian’s tone was biting again, but the ghost of a smile was still on his face, so all Tim could do was make a choking noise as he snapped his jaw shut and looked out the window.

            Well, maybe breakfast wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

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            Bruce made his way to the grandfather clock once they were back at the manor. He allowed himself a small smile, thinking back to the way his children had bickered and teased each other at the restaurant. He was delighted when he had seen Damian having to hold back a laugh after Dick’s fork had been drenched in syrup curtesy of Jason. He was finally beginning to feel as though his family was almost whole with the return of Jason and the breaking down of Damian’s walls.

            After slipping into his costume, Bruce set to work. He wanted to sigh, but Tim and Dick had just walked into the cave, whispering at each other. He raised his eyebrow at the hushed tones that stopped once they were in earshot of him. He would have to look into that later, collaborating in whispers between his children never led to positive outcomes.

            “Whatcha working on?” Dick never was one to be subtle, but he welcomed the olive branch. He would need help with this case, his suspect was eluding him at every turn, and it was starting to wear on him.

            “Vlad Masters.” He already had his files pulled up, so he clicked on the tab that had a picture of the man. He glared at the screen, hoping that the missing piece would reveal itself by just staring at the picture for a little longer. “He’s gone from low millionaire to high billionaire in just under two years. None of his business partners remember their meetings, only that they signed away at least half of their company before he was gone.”

            “You think he’s drugging them? Or maybe mind control?” Tim was taking his spot at the batcomputer, already starting his review of the files. Dick was watching over his shoulder, and he hoped that maybe they could find something they didn’t.

            Suddenly, Damian was flying over the edge of the stairs and hurling towards them. Bruce simply turned to look, and Dick was ducking away from the 16-year-old’s fist. “Did either of you imbeciles go in my room?” Damian’s tone was angry, though he didn’t attack again. He was getting better at controlling his temper, it seemed. Though, with the way Tim’s shoulders were ever so slightly tense, he guessed that he was the culprit.

            “Uh, yeah. It was me. Sorry, Dames, I wandered in this morning on accident. No sleep last night and no coffee yet. You know me. I think I nudged something on your desk, and that’s what kickstarted my brain. I left as soon as I noticed.” Tim’s voice was cool, but Bruce could detect the way his voice was just barely higher than normal. So, he was lying about the reason, then. He would have to ask later.

            Damian visibly relaxed, though he was still holding himself with respect. “Fine. Just do not repeat that mistake again in the future, or I will have your fingers.” With that, he was leaving the cave as quickly as he had come down. No doubt Alfred was forcing him to do his homework before he began any work in the cave.

            Bruce turned towards Tim with a raised eyebrow and the question on his face. “I saw something I shouldn’t have.” Huh, he must feel pretty guilty about it if he wasn’t even going to try to lie. “Just a book with a message. No big.” Tim was once again looking through the files on Masters.

            “Have you looked at any of his connections yet?” Bruce grunted, a silent yes. “What about those from college? It doesn’t seem like he has that many friends, though there’s a couple he used to spend his time with while he was getting his degree.” Another grunt, this time signaling that no, he had not checked his college friends out just yet. Tim opened another tab and pulled up a picture of a large man with black hair next to a shorter woman with ginger hair. They were both wearing ugly jumpsuits. Tim continued to scroll, and it was only a couple pictures down that they stopped.

            It was a picture of the Fenton family in a lab. Their daughter, 17 at the time of the picture if Bruce had to guess, was a perfect mix of her parents. She was tall, probably close to 6 feet, with teal eyes and the same hair color as her mother. It was the son that had garnered their attention, though. Because staring at them through the screen was Damian, but a Damian with eyes the exact same shade of blue as Bruce’s and a large grin. His hair was longer, and he was wearing a black hoodie with stains and a ghost symbol hovering over the word ‘Boo!’, but there was no mistaking the skin tone, or the eye shape, or the nose. That was Damian’s face with an unknown expression and different eyes, and it took the three men in the room longer to collect themselves than it should have.

            “Please tell me you’re seeing what I’m seeing.” Dick was the first to speak, his eyes shifting between Bruce and the boy on the screen. “Please tell me I’m not going crazy and seeing Dami in the place of a completely different kid.”

            “You’re not going crazy.” Tim’s reply was shallow, garbled by the confusion that laced his features. Bruce wasn’t sure what to make of this situation, but Tim was already tapping away, pulling up all the information that he could. “Daniel James Fenton. Age 16. He was adopted by the Fenton family seven years ago… today. He didn’t give anything other than his first name. Just wandered into Amity Park, Illinois with a… with a sword?”

            “Hn.” Bruce wanted to lean towards the clone theory, but what would the League of Assassins have to gain with creating a clone of Damian and then sending him to American for seven years?

            “It could just be a coincidence, you know.” Dick was calming himself down, his breathing was slowing. “There are supposed to be seven people in the world that look like you.”

            “Yeah, plus, look at his eyes. They aren’t the same color!” Tim was almost screaming now. “Totally just a coincidence.”

            “Yeah, but that blue is the exact same as Bruce’s…” Dick was leaning forward onto the chair now, careful not to knock Tim off balance. “We… we have to look into this. What if Bruce has another kid!”

            “Yeah, but the age… Dames would’ve told us if he had a twin, right?” None of them could answer that question. Damian was a lot of things, but open about his past was not one of them. If the documents were real, then that means that Daniel was out of the League a year before Damian. There was no way to know for sure, and Bruce was positive he would not get the answers from his son.

            “Where are the Fenton’s now?” The best course of action was to try and find Damian’s lookalike. They could do DNA testing once they did that.

            “They’re… on their way to Gotham for a convention?” Tim had pulled up security footage and the Fenton’s public schedule. “The Paranormal Physiology and Biology Convention, to be exact. It seems both Maddie and Jack, the parents, have doctorates in paranormal ecto-biology, and the daughter, Jasmine or Jazz, is currently attending Gotham University for a degree in Psychology.” Okay, they were on their way to Gotham. So, getting a DNA sample to run would be easier than originally anticipated, unless he was trained by the League. That would make this plan more difficult than anticipated.

            “Find out where they will be in Gotham. Then I want you to try and get a DNA sample so we can run tests and figure out whether he’s a clone. If we’re lucky, he might be willing to help us build a case against Masters.” Bruce was heading for the batmobile now. He needed to think. Either there was a clone of his son living in Illinois for the past seven years, or he had another son that had been free of the League.

            He isn’t sure which one would be better.

[bugaboo25]

I Will Forever Love You Chapter 2

Okay, I'm gonna do it! There's more info on the masterpost about how this is gonna look, but I am gonna post the rest of this! Just bear with me if there's a lot of time between updates!

Masterpost Prev Next

Anways, onto chapter 2:

Danny groaned as he flung himself onto the table. Which, ew, the Nasty Burger employees obviously hadn’t taken the time to wipe down the table in days, as was told by the way his hoodie was sticking to a dark stain that sat next to him. He could feel Tucker shifting next to him, obviously wanting to ask, but Danny wanted to wallow in his own self pity for just a few more moments, thank you very much. Alas, he was promptly pulled away from his thoughts as Tucker nudged his side with his elbow. Danny turned his head, allowing his eyes to scan over Tucker quickly and efficiently. He was taller now, taller than Danny’s own 5’9”, and his beret had been discarded for a beanie that allowed his new dreadlocks to cascade down over his neck. His eyes told of his desire to speak, so the 16-year-old pulled himself into a seated position.

            “So,” Tucker began, his eyes shifting to ensure there were no ears on them. “What did CW want?” Ah, so that was the reason that Tucker drew Danny from his pits of despair. He was going to tell his friends; he just wanted a minute to wrap his head around the news before letting them know. Danny’s eyes drifted over to Sam, and the goth’s raised brow and clenched jaw told of her concern, even though she was trying to seem appropriately interested and not overbearing like she had in the past. He allowed himself a second to appreciate her half-shaved head once again, thinking back to the way Pamela had screeched just two days ago when he dropped Sam off at home after a devilishly fun evening at the mall.

            Danny groaned once again, double checking the restaurant for prying ears before hunching forward and speaking in a hushed tone. “I’m apparently gonna be crowned Ghost King once I turn eighteen.” Danny had to stifle a grin at the loud gurgling noises that came from his friends, the memory of him making a similar noise when he first met Jazz playing in his mind’s eye.

            “Danny what-“

            “When did you-“

            “Guys, guys, quiet down, people are staring!” Danny bit out, though his words held no venom. He knew they hadn’t meant to speak so loudly, and he also knew they wouldn’t be on the lookout for any attention they might gain. They had no League training, and Danny never wanted them to. He couldn’t keep them out of his life as Phantom, but he would never stoop so low as to introduce them to the world of al Ghul’s. He couldn’t, not when the only one in that damn place that ever cared about him was… Instead of lingering on that thought, Danny allowed himself to take on an easy smile as he continued forward. “It’s not a big deal. CW said I’ll have to go the Realms like, once every week or two after the coronation is over with.” Sam and Tucker noticeably loosened as the knowledge that their third wasn’t going to be disappearing into the Infinite Realms forever.

            The trio’s order number was called from the front of the room, and Sam slid out of the booth to go and grab it. When she got back, she handed out their food, and Danny stared down at his vegetarian sandwich. He had decided to make the switch a few months ago, his dreams plaguing him with ghost animals coming back for their vengeance. He had tried to ignore them, but the second that Vlad had sent a ghost cow his way, his desire to eat meat had disappeared. Sam had cheered when he told them of his decision. Tucker had just huffed in annoyance and refused to eat lunch with them for two days.

            “Dude,” Tucker whispered as he leaned into Danny’s side. “Breathe.” And suddenly Danny was inhaling an ungodly amount of oxygen as he realized he had been staring at his food, unbreathing, for the past five minutes. He would never admit it to anyone, but he often forgot, his body no longer required him to breathe more than once every hour. In fact, he still remembered the time Jazz had woken him up in the middle of the night due to his lack of breathing and the fact that his heart had only pumped once in 15 minutes. She had been crying when his eyes flew open, and they had had an hour-long discussion about how important it was to at least act like he was inhaling oxygen when around others. Still, he had to kick the thought about how the lack of breathing would make him even more hard to notice sneaking up on someone to dispose of them out of his mind multiple times.

            Honestly, with how often he failed at the task, it was a surprise Jack and Maddie hadn’t noticed. Though, it shouldn’t be, considering they hardly ever paid attention to the presence of their children. Danny ate his sandwich and enjoyed the comfortable silence that sat between the three friends, his hair cascading into his line of vision. Danny wanted to cut it, but the fact of the matter was, the more effort he put into being a greasy, grimy gremlin, the less likely the League was to find him out. He checked his phone, and, seeing that it was nearing 6:30, the time Jazz was set to get home for her trip back to Amity, said his goodbyes for the night to Sam and Tuck. His eyes slid over the window, and for one heart stopping second, he thought it was Damian with the way the lights reflected green in his eyes. But then his eyes caught sight of the scar on his left temple, and the illusion was broken. He huffed to himself, then willed his shoulders to relax. God, how he missed his brother.

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            Jazz pulled up to the Fenton household with a sigh on her lips. She hated being in the same house as her parents, but she hated leaving Danny alone even more. He had practically pushed her out the door the day she moved to Gotham for college, but she knew he hadn’t wanted her to put her life on hold for him. Still, she wished that she had the money to be able to take guardianship of her brother until he turned 18. If their parents ever found out about him… well, it wouldn’t be a pretty sight, that was sure. She may have thought they would understand after she first found out, but it had been so long, and their hatred for Phantom had only grown in the last two years…

            Jazz clapped her hands together. No point in worrying about what could happen, Danny had set so many backup plans in place that she had had to spend an entire 48 hours memorizing them. She just needed to focus on her main goal: get Danny to talk about his life before the Fenton’s. He had kept everything to himself for the past seven years, but this time, his Gotcha Day would be spent healing from past trauma – she hoped. Frankly, she would be lucky if Danny said two words about his past, he hadn’t said since the day she had convinced her parents to adopt.

            Jazz pulled down the sun visor and slid open the mirror, schooling her expression into one of pure will. “You can do this, Jasmine Fenton. You’ve spent the last two months in Gotham University studying psychology, and some 16-year-old boy will not-“

“Whatcha doin’?” Jazz’s pep talk was interrupted as she let out a totally normal, definitely cool and collected, screech. Danny started cackling, his torso sticking out of the floor of Jazz’s car.

“Danny! You can’t just pop into existence right in front of people who are having a private moment!” Jazz was chastising him, but Danny couldn’t help the giggles that continued to escape his mouth. Jazz huffed, threw open her car door, grabbed her bags, and started marching toward the front door. Danny was trailing behind her, but she didn’t care. She had forgotten just how unnerving it was when Danny appeared out of thin air, having empty space and then without warning he was just there. It reminded her of when he had first been adopted, of how he would suddenly appear and then disappear without so much as breathing loud enough to be heard. It was different now, though, as he no longer needed to put effort into softening the sounds escaping her body. Not for the first time, Jazz let herself wonder what type of homelife Danny had had before appearing in Amity.

She had only been able to come up with one plausible theory, and that was that Danny’s parents had been incredibly abusive. He must have had to learn to be as quiet as a mouse to remain out of his parents’ fighting, protecting himself from the vile side of humanity before he should have known how horrible people could be. That kind of history would be exactly the type to make someone refuse to speak about their childhood, so Jazz had allowed Danny to remain silent when it came to her questions. He didn’t have to give any answers he wasn’t prepared to, not until the traumatic memories started to cause real damage to his psyche. She was drawn out of her musings by Danny jabbing her side with his pointer finger, and when she turned a disapproving stare at him, he began rubbing the back of his neck.

“What’s up?” At the question, Danny’s hand dropped down so he could cross his arms over the ghost symbol on his hoodie. Honestly, Jazz wasn’t sure his coping mechanisms of ‘joke about my own death while simultaneously ignoring the fact that I died’ were completely healthy, but the clothing articles seemed to help keep him out of a depressive state, so she wouldn’t say anything.

“I was just saying that Mom and Dad were all hyped up this morning about something, so be prepared for anything.” Danny’s eyes took on that shine they usually did when he was talking about their parents, but she had never been able to place it. It was a mix between fondness and disdain, and what that meant for the adults in their life, she’d rather not know.

“Don’t worry little brother, I’m always prepared when it comes to Mom and Dad.” Jazz started opening the door, and then promptly froze in place as she saw the two adults running around the house like their lives depended on it.

“Don’t forget to grab the Peeler, dear! We need to make sure we take as much as we possibly can!” Mom was yelling at Dad as he descended the stairs to the lab, and a booming “Okay!” reverberated off the metal walls of the stairwell.

“Mom?” Jazz stepped forward hesitantly, not quite prepared for the sight of bags full of clothes and machinery alike. “What’s going on?”

“Jazz! It’s so lovely to see you! But why are you here? Didn’t we tell you we’re going to Gotham?” Mom looked at Jazz with a quizzical look, and finding anything remotely resembling care in the purple-tinted blue eyes was almost impossible. Jazz had to once again start the mantra of “they love us, it’s just… hard to see” in her own mind.

“No, you didn’t tell me you’re going to Gotham. Tomorrow is Danny’s Gotcha Day! I’ve been planning on coming back for months!” Jazz was tempted to let herself lose her temper, but she knew that it wouldn’t lead to anything productive. Instead, she settled for looking for any recognition of the one day that they got to celebrate Danny, since he claimed to not know when his birthday was.

“Danny’s Gotcha Day? That can’t be, that’s not until October 13th, right? It can’t be October already.” Mom was speaking as if she was stating a fact, but there was a slight frown on her lips as she checked the date on her phone. Jazz let her eyes shift over to Danny’s form, but he looked almost bored of the conversation. “Oh dear!” Mom was talking again, and Jazz decided that if Danny was okay, then she would be, too. “I’m sorry sweetie, we must have lost track of time down in the lab. You know how it is.” Mom’s voice was almost caring. “We were gonna tell you tonight, as a surprise! We’re going to Gotham for a week, Dad and I have a convention coming up that we just absolutely can’t miss. We’re leaving tomorrow, so go pack your bags!”

“Okay, thanks.” Danny shot off up the stairs, and Jazz followed after him. She needed to make sure he actually was okay; their mom had just admitted to forgetting about his stand-in birthday. Jazz knocked lightly on his bedroom door before slowly pushing it open.

“Are you okay?” Jazz sat down on Danny’s bed, shoving the bunched-up comforter out of her way while nudging a pair of jeans sprawled on the floor. She looked towards her brother and took in his appearance. His messy hair was hanging in his face, and his 5’9” stature was hunched over as he shoveled clothes into a duffle bag. He was throwing items like his chargers, toothbrush, and laptop into his backpack, and she hoped that he would try to do the online assignments that were sure to be filling his email by now.

            “Yeah?” Danny sent her a puzzled look, and not for the first time did she realize that Danny obviously didn’t know what it meant to be a priority to your parents. Jazz’s brow furrowed, but she saw the way Danny was pulling into himself, so she settled for subtlety.

            Jazz stood from the bed and gave Danny a long hug. “I’ll be in my room if you want to talk.” Then she was closing the door to Danny’s room and slipping into her own, the one she had lived in for 18 years, and the feelings of loneliness that hadn’t plagued her in two months crept back under her skin.

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            Danny continued to shuffle items into their respectful bags, no longer caring if they were messy. Well, that’s not to say he didn’t care, it just didn’t bother him as much as it did when he first decided to take on the persona of a slobby teen. All details would be taken into account when it came to the League. Once he finished zipping up the duffel, he turned to his backpack. He crossed his legs, and for the first time in months, he allowed himself to remember. He thought of green eyes, of heartbroken screams and explosions, and he thought of a presence by his side, watching every blind spot he would ever have. Danny clenched his fists, as he remembered the day just over a year ago. He had just confirmed that his powers were fully under his control, and as soon as he had been alone, he had zipped away. He had gone invisible and intangible long before he reached Nanda Parbat, not daring to risk being seen. He had flown around the entirety of the League’s base, searching for Damian. Alas, even his quarters had been cleared. Danny left, knowing his brother was no longer there, either dead or escaped. He was determined to find out which.

            Danny’s eyes opened, and he stuck his hand into the floorboard beneath his bed. He pulled out the wakizashi, eyes tracing every detail. He didn’t need to take the time to memorize it, as it was as familiar to him as it had ever been. For a brief moment, he considered taking it with him; but there was no way he would find Damian in Gotham of all places. Jazz would have noticed his lookalike by now. Besides, Danny didn’t believe in chance.

            He slid the wakizashi into his bag anyway.

[bugaboo25]

Another Danny and Damian are Twins

Um... hi :) I don't post very much, or, like, at all. But!! I have been obsessed with Danny and Damian are twins AU for a long time, and a plot bunny decided to live in my head. I'm debating actually writing this or not at the moment, and I figured, why not get opinions? I'm going to write it no matter what. I just... wanted to know if anyone else wanted to read it?

Edit: Masterpost Next>

Anyways, here's the first chapter:

The moon hung in the desert sky, the stars twinkling and shimmering around it. Two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green, stared up at them. The blue eyes were filled with childlike wonderment, while the green eyes were brimming with boredom. However, both sets of eyes held an undertone of worry. The nine-year-olds sat in an easy and comfortable silence, one that they knew needed to be broken so they could discuss the current state of their place in League. Neither boy wanted to speak first, but it had to be done.

“Danyal,” started the green-eyed boy. Danyal’s eyes turned away from the stars, and green met blue as the boys stared at each other. “We must talk about what we overheard Grandfather saying.”

“Yes, I am well aware,” Danyal responded. His brow pinched in thought, the small scar that adorned his left temple wrinkled in response. “Dami, you do realize what he meant, correct? There can only be one heir, and since no one escapes the League…”

“Then one of us must die.” Damian’s eyes steeled, but with Danyal being the only other soul present, he did not try to hide the glistening of unshed tears in his eyes. “I will refuse to fight you, Danny. I know he will try to make us, but I will not do it.”

“Nor will I, Dami, but you know Grandfather as well as I do. There will be no choice. Unless one of us dies before he can make us.” Danyal turned away from Damian as he said this, knowing that the next words out of his mouth would break his brother’s heart. “I will do it.”

“No, Danyal!” Damian’s sharp but quiet reply was not unexpected, but Danyal still allowed his eyes to return to his twin’s. “I do not wish to live in a world without you.”

“This is not up for debate, Damian. I will not return from this mission, and you will become the sole heir. I will hear no more of this, just know that I will forever love you.” Danyal gave Damian a swift hug, then stood from the ground and started toward the hidden bunker that they had just completed their mission in not even fifteen minutes prior. There were bombs set to go off in just under 4 minutes.

Damian jumped from his position on the ground, ready to chase after his brother. However, as soon as he started forward, he was pulled back to the ground. Danyal had chained him during their quick hug, and slid Damian’s katana just out of reach. Damian growled, already beginning to pick the lock. He knew Danyal was not trying to keep him there, but simply wanted him to stay put during his sacrifice. He finished with the lock swiftly, but as soon as he stood up to begin his sprint toward the bunder, explosions filled the air. “Danyal, no! Danny!” Damian fell to his knees, and as tears filled his green eyes, the only thing that filled his mind was blue.

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Danyal ran as fast as he could away from the exploding bunker. He could hear Damian’s heartbroken cry for him, and his own heart twisted and ached as he desperately wished he could call back to his brother. He knew, though, that if Grandfather or Mother found out that he had not died, then Damian would be forced to kill him. He did not wish that guilt on his twin, which is why he made sure to leave behind everything needed to confirm his death from the explosion. Once he reached the cover of a nearby forest, he allowed himself to stop for just a few moments. He vowed that he would find Damian again, that he would not allow his brother to mourn him forever. He only wished that Mother had disclosed the identity of their father before he had to fake his death, if only so he could go to him in hopes of being reunited with Damian as soon as possible. For now, though, he would escape to America, and hopefully find a place he could hide his presence from the League.

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Damian returned home, and for what felt like the hundredth time that night, he turned his head and felt the absence of blue eyes meeting green. He stood in front of Grandfather, relaying the proceedings of the mission. He told him that he had waited for Danyal outside of the bunker, but he had not returned to his side even after the explosion. He did not allow his features or his tone to show the hollowness he now felt without his brother by his side, but he did not miss the satisfaction that crossed Grandfather’s face at the mention of Danyal’s death. Mother’s expression had not changed, and Damian could only guess at whether or not she felt sorrow for her son’s death.

“Dismissed,” came the voice of Ra’s al Ghul. Damian turned on his heel and headed straight for his quarters. Quickly, he grabbed Danyal’s favorite book on astrology and hid it underneath his pillow. Damian knew that hope was a foolish thing, but he would never allow himself to truly believe that Danyal was gone. There was always a chance that he escaped, that he would find his way to his brother again once they were older. He sat on the edge of the bed and memorized every detail of Danny’s side of the room. He knew that by morning, all of his brother’s things would be gone, and Danyal al Ghul would be nothing but a memory.

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Danyal quietly made his way through the forest. It was fall now, October, if he had to guess. August felt as if it had been years ago, but the last two months without Damian had been even more agonizing than he had originally anticipated. He looked around for any sign as to where he was, and out of his peripheral he saw a sign along the road. Slowly and carefully, he made his way towards it. “Amity Park, Illinois. Population 15,328.” Danyal read the sign slowly, making sure he fully absorbed the information before he came to a decision. “This will do.” He walked toward the road, and then followed it until he made his way into town. He was sure a nine-year-old carrying a wakizashi around would be unsettling, but he refused to leave it behind. It would be one of the only ways he could convince Damian that he truly was his brother once they met again in the future.

Almost immediately after making his way into town, a police officer approached him and dragged him to the station. When asked about his parents, Danyal informed them that he did not have any. The pitying looks were disdainful, but he kept his mouth shut. He did not wish to garner unwanted attention. Well, more than he already had for being a child that would not part with a wakizashi and no parents. Before he knew it, he was being carted away to an orphanage. He was left with a woman called Mrs. Park, who led him to an office where he sat down in an old plastic chair.

“What’s your name, son?” The sickly-sweet voice of Mrs. Park almost made Danyal gag, but he managed to hold it in.

“Danyal,” he responded, and the lack of a last name made Mrs. Park frown.

“Okay, Daniel. Let me just get you put in the system. We will need a photo and some fingerprints before we take you to the rooms. We have some prospective adopters coming by today, so you might want to get cleaned up.” Mrs. Park pointedly stared at the mud-stained clothes that hung off Danyal, and if she noticed him bristle at the mispronunciation of his name, she didn’t show it.

Once they finished with the necessary paperwork, Danyal was taken to the restroom to get a shower and a change of clothes. He kept his wakizashi with him in the bathroom, and he made sure to leave it on the counter where he could still see it even with the curtain closed. Once he was done, he emerged in a pair of jeans and a white t-shirt, and he couldn’t help but frown at the restrictions that his new attire provided. He was shuffled into room by Mrs. Park, and he made sure to glare at the other two kids in the room so that they knew to leave him alone.

Mrs. Park clapped her hands. “Okay kids, we have some prospective adopters that just showed up. Their names are Jack and Maddie Fenton, and they brought their daughter Jazz along. Make sure you’re on your best behaviors!” She then opened the door, and the family stepped in.

Teal eyes met blue, and suddenly the ginger teenager, Jazz, if Danyal had to guess, was walking towards him. The looming figures of her parents walked behind her. “Hello! My name is Jazz, what’s yours?” Jazz stared at him expectantly, and Danyal was unsure of how to handle the bright smile that adorned her face, so he settled for a gurgling sound instead.

“This is Daniel,” Mrs. Park spoke up. “He just joined us today. Would you like to get to know him a little better? We can take you to a private room.” Danyal once again bristled at the mispronunciation of his name, but he looked toward the Fenton family to see their response.

The large, burly man grinned excitedly. “Hiya, Danny-boy!” he boomed. “You want to come get to know us? I’m Jack, and this is my wife, Maddie!”

Danyal stared at them, but quietly and quickly responded with a “sure,” and suddenly they were being led to another room by Mrs. Park. They sat in silence for a few moments before the Fenton’s were overzealous and excited balls of energy. Danyal’s eyes snapped to Jazz, and the comforting look she gave him was all he needed to decide that he wanted to stay with this family until he could make his way back to Damian. If Danyal allowed himself to develop a familial bond with Jazz during that time, well, Damian would just have to learn to be okay with an older sister.

[bugaboo25]

🔮 🥺 🚨 😶 🔮

- the evil wizard

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[tumblgang]

She ain’t no games in real life so I take her serious all the time

Anyone with a name that starts with a “Z”, ends with an “i”, and isn’t some kind of Italian pasta, IS SERIOUS

I’m not climbing no mountain with a pig on my back, 🙅🏽🙅🏾🙅🏿 Negative.

[skuubasally]

Nope. I know better, have your reblog Madame Zeroni.

[luckytaters]

who the fuck is Madame Zeroni

[saudadesinfinitas-deactivated20]

Look at these stupid children who don’t know who Madame Zeroni is

[drayaintshit-deactivated2019030]

☝🏾😂

[callmedeku24]

Man lissen if you don’t know you better ask somebody AFTER you hit the reblog button

[emeraldmercury]

Idk who she is but I have an exam today so I’ll reblog her

[haiku-robot]

idk who she is but i have an exam today so i’ll reblog her

^Haiku^bot^0.4. Sometimes I do stupid things (but I have improved with syllables!). Beep-boop!

[jacobmick]

Because wise, I am.

[seymonecristina]

Oh fucks no she’s back lmao must reblog. I’m sorry guys

[blackgirlart]

2 million people aren’t wrong

[joeblolove]

[constellaj]

danny phantom ghostsona

make a ghost character (or a human character) from danny phantom

alright gamers go forth and ghostsona

[letswonderspirit]

This is so cool!!!!

[nastyburger]

haha im emo

[bugaboo25]

🤷‍♀️

[xhanisai]

Been thinking about Chat Blanc with a Sand Boy 2.0 and he arrives when Marinette is asleep. Been also thinking of a fun new akuma that takes two people, and forces person B’s mind into a construction of person A’s worst fear. So like… Imagine Adrien falling asleep and waking up as Chat Blanc with incomplete memories in Marinette’s room or something.

Now my question is why aren't you writing a story about it??????

COS THAT IS ONE HELLUVA PROMPT ANON.

[silverwhiteraven]

My brain has already started something. Oh no.

[nomolosk]

👀

[silverwhiteraven]

“How does it feel, Lucas, my big brother, for the person you trust most to become the thing you fear above all else?” A young boy named Noah, now turned to the Akuma called Sandboy, sneered at an older boy who was now crying and shivered under a desk in the corner of their room. Sandboy scoffed at the terror in his brother’s eyes, glancing sideways at the thing that used to be their mother.

The room was dark save for the streetlights peaking through the curtains. The off-yellow glow struck the creature, seeming to pass right through it’s solid body, not reflecting. It’s body seemed formless, it’s shape shifting and rippling into new textures every other moment. It looked as if it was moving and standing still at the same time, like an optical illusion you can’t look at for very long lest your head hurt.

Sandboy knew his brother suffered from sleep paralysis, and their mother was the one who could comfort him when they passed and he no longer saw the shadows and beasts out of the corners of his eyes. Noah didn’t ask about it, and he respected that Lucas never wanted to talk about it with him.

But Sandboy had no such restraints.

After all, Lucas was the one to take inspiration from a movie they both saw last week. He first scared Noah with tales of Halloween and its monsters, then used a cheap costume and mask to jump out and frighten the younger boy when he was trying to stay calm and happy. So sandboy was only repaying the favor. A prank for a prank, a scare for a scare. Broken trust for broken trust. So when their mother came in to investigate Noah’s crying, Sandboy took the opportunity to shower them both in glittering sand.

Pulling open the bedroom window, Sandboy leapt atop his floating cushion and left his brother to deal with his fears, alone. Paris was waiting to see more terrors come to life, after all. Who was he to disappoint?

[ Should I keep going? This really does have potential, I can see it. ]

[silverwhiteraven]

Sandboy was rather displeased with the results of his night so far. Even Hawkmoth had complained that his efforts weren’t drawing Chat Noir and Ladybug out fast enough. Unfortunately, they could do nothing about how Sandboy’s powers worked.

Their mother coming in had been a lucky one-off chance to successfully make Lucas their first victim. The people dusted had to be connected through great trust for any effect to happen, after all. Even if one-way, it was all they needed. Had it been anyone else entering their room, the sand would have had no effect on either of them until their most trusted person got dusted with it as well.

And that, unfortunately, was the result they were mostly having at the moment.

Not everyone actually lived with or near the person they trusted above all others, so the changes Sandboy saw were gradual. He knew, however, that as long as he dusted more of the city with his sands, more changes would happen in the places he had already been. So he continued forward.

Sandboy didn’t care to take note of the places he passed. Schools, apartments, mansions, cafes, parks, skyscrapers, bakeries. He only wanted to see the fears of others come to life. So he flew higher into the sky, throwing more and more dust into the winds. Soon enough, all of Paris sparkling with the sands of nightmares.

He watched in glee, listening as the night came to life with the noise of thousands of people’s terrors.

Oddly enough, a white speck on the peak of the Eiffel Tower is what caught the attention of Sandboy and Hawkmoth.

[ Y’all asked, so here’s a little more! ]

[silverwhiteraven]

Marinette startled awake from her sleep, knocking her hands against her computer mouse and tablet as she sat up in her chair. The computer screen turned on, revealing a graphic design she had been working on and barely remembered finishing. She must have fallen asleep as soon as she did her final save.

She looked around, wondering what had woken her. Everything was quiet, though, and her room was lit only by her lamp. No strange shadows jumped out at her, nothing out of place could be seen. Even Tikki was peacefully sleeping away on a pile of felt squares on top of the sewing kit.

She rubbed her eyes and yawned, thinking back to if she had been dreaming or not. A frown graced her lips as she remembered blue eyes and a silent white bell.

“Stupid nightmares,” Marinette grumbled to herself, standing up as she turned off her computer for the night, but not before she had done one last just-in-case save on her project. She then trudged towards the stairs to her bed, intent on sleeping somewhere normal. But then a faint noise could be heard from downstairs, and she paused, listening.

The noise echoed from below once more, sounding like it came from several floors below. Holding her breath, she crept closer to the trapdoor in her floor and listened harder.

This time, the noise was a voice, her father’s. He was yelling something, though she could barely hear it. He must have been all the way down in the bakery for it to sound so quiet yet carry so far.

“Papa never yells,” Marinette whispered to herself as she swung open the door and descended the stairs, worried. She dashed to the living room door and opened it to the stairwell, listening again. Tom’s yells could be heard better now, and it was only one word that really registered.

“SABINE!”

There was pain and fear in his voice, and without a second thought, Marinette was dashing down the stairs two at a time. Her father never yelled. Her father was never scared. And her mother never, ever didn’t answer his calls.

[ Oop, here comes Marinette! Wonder what happened? >:3 ]

[silverwhiteraven]

She could feel the heat and smell the smoke long before she saw the blinding light of the fires. The bakery’s back kitchen was ablaze, and Tom had collapsed just outside its door. Marinette froze on the last step of the staircase, staring wide eyed at her father. She could see that his heart and soul were left behind inside that inferno.

His eyes suddenly looked at her and they went even wider as even bigger tears fell down his cheeks. “Papa..” she croaked, unable to look into the fire before them. “Where’s Maman?” He was upon his feet in an instant, wrapping her in his arms, picking her up. Then he turned away and ran. Over his shoulder, she saw the blazing fire within the kitchens. A form made of flames stood in the middle of it all, her smokey grey eyes radiating more heat than anything else around them.

The door to the front of the bakery closed behind them, cutting  off Marinette’s view. But her mother’s eyes were burned into her mind like a branding. Whatever had happened, it had caused her mother to become something Marinette and her father would fear for quite some time.

Tom finally stopped running and collapsed in the middle of the park across from their building. He continued to hold her tight as he shuddered with sobs, and soon, her own eyes stun enough from not blinking to make her realize she was crying, too.

Tearing her eyes away from the flames that grew faster than should be natural, she hugged him back, burying her face in his shoulder. It took her a long few moments before she could speak again, her voice quiet and trembling.

“Papa, what happened?”

His breath shuddered and he hiccupped, hugging her even tighter than before. “Nothing but a bad dream, Marinette, I promise. Nothing but a bad dream…”

Her breath caught and she looked up, her eyes set on the balcony that stood atop her bedroom. She could see Tikki there, flitting about in a panic like a tiny bird. Marinette could only hope her Kwami would notice them in the park soon and calm down.

But her father’s words made her mind tick into a new gear.

Ever since she was little, Tom and Sabine had taught her how to use the ovens and the stoves. They even gave lessons in open-fire cooking, and baking using traditional clay and brick ovens that used open flames and hot coals.

There was one thing Tom stressed above all else. “Remember, Marinette, fire can be good when used right. But having a healthy fear of open flaps is perfectly reasonable. It will keep you safe, just like it does me.”

As a little girl, that statement had always made her giggle. She could see the irony of a baker having a fear of fire.

But now? Now she realized what it meant. It wasn't just a healthy fear that had him running from the bakery with his daughter clutched in his arms. It was his worst nightmare.

The burning eyes of smoke could be seen in the fires behind the bakery’s storefront windows, and Marinette tore her eyes away. But her mind kept spinning out answers like a spindle and thread. Those eyes were Sabine’s, and that fire was Tom’s worst fear. Something unnatural had happened, something had done this to them.

A glimmer caught her eyes on her father’s back. It reflected the light of fire and streetlamps like glitter, but it was more of a powder, much like the surface of a diamond drill.

Marinette closed her eyes tight once more. Why? Why did it have to be Sandboy?

[ Oop! Here y’all go! I’m cranking up the heat! (pun intended) ]

[silverwhiteraven]

Blue eyes, a white bell.

The image flashed in Marinette's mind and her heart quickened, her breath shallow. Barely managing to pull out of her father’s arms from both their reluctances to let go, she looked down at her own clothing. It sparkled in the light, just like her father’s did.

She felt sick. She tried to will her panic away, tried to flush it out alongside her tears.

“Marinette?” Tom spoke softly, looking ready to forget about his own fear to catch her if she fell. She shook her head and shifted on her feet anxiously.

“Papa, I- This has to be an Akuma, right? This has to be- Everything has to be able to go back to normal, right?” Her voice sounded desperate even to her own ears, but the words seemed to pull them both just a bit out of their dark holes.

He sniffled and nodded, glancing at the bakery before tearing his eyes away and back to his daughter once more. “For once, dear, I really do hope there’s an Akuma out there, too.”

She nodded back and whipped at her tears. “There just has to be. Maman- she- she isn’t gone, she-”

He hugged her again, nodding even more. “She’s just feeling a little different right now, sweetie, she’ll be okay. I promise.”

Marinette held tight to that promise, a lifesaver in the mists of a hurricane at sea.

Chancing another glance to her balcony, she saw her fairy lights had gone out, their wires burned and frayed by the cloth canopy and wooden furniture that was not lit by flames. Her flowers were wilted. They looked sad.

Tikki wasn’t there any more.

A quick glance around proved that the Kwami was nowhere near. And no nudge from her pockets or within her hair came, either. Marinette’s heart pounded, scared that Ladybug might not make it to the fight soon enough.

Shaking the unwanted thought from her mind, she pulled away once more and looked at her father, looking like a giant that had fallen from his home in the beautiful skies. He was so small without Sabine there with them.

“Papa, we have to get somewhere safe.” He nodded and stood quickly, ready to get his daughter to safety. She shook her head, knowing his thoughts. “I have to go check on my friends, they need me.” He wilted and tried to counter, to tell her no, but she pushed it, needing to help her city, desperate to turn back the wrong and make her life right again. “Papa, I have to go. They’re going to be scared, and my- I was affected by the Akuma, too. I don’t want to put you in danger. I don’t know what it’s going to be, and I don’t know if I can run from it, or if you can keep us safe by staying with me. I need to be able to run, Papa. And my friends can help me, they know how to help me hide.”

“But Marinette, I- I can protect you. Can’t I?” He looked heartbroken, and the fact she helped cause it tore at her. But she still shook her head.

“The fire- If that comes back, you won’t be able to shield me from both our things. You’ll get hurt, I won’t let you get hurt like that!” She hiccupped as she cried out her final plea, and she stood shaking in her spot as she stared him down, renewed tears falling.

The moment between her outburst and his answer felt long, but he did finally speak.

“You’re sure they can help? More than me?”

She swallowed back her sadness and nodded hard, feigning confidence in her words. “We’ve been around a lot of Akuma’s, Papa. We’re good at keeping each other safe. I trust them with this.”

She tried to suppress her guilt at her own words. Yes, she trusted them, enough to hand them Miraculous as Ladybug. But the truth was, she wasn’t going to let them protect her here, either. She would check on them, yes, that wasn’t a lie, either. But to let them see Ladybug’s worst fear? She didn’t want to bear that thought. She didn’t want them to know.

Yet something in the back of her mind told her she would have very little luck keeping this secret for much longer. Something with blue eyes and an unringing white bell.

She was enveloped in yet another hug, and Tom’s voice came to her in a hushed whisper. “Be safe, Marinette. I’ll find you again soon.” He let her go, and she turned on her heels, dashing away. But not without looking back at him.

Her father was sad and frightened. But he turned back to the burning Bakery despite it. She could tell that he would do anything to keep his family safe. Even if that meant letting his daughter leave. Even if it meant facing what he feared most.

[ Y’all still want this?? ]

[xhanisai]

You literally broke my heart with the exchange between Tom and Marinette and I both love and hate you for that.

KEEP IT UP. I’M LIVIN ON THIS.

[illinicoise]

“But if you forget to reblog Madame Zeroni, you and your family will be cursed for always and eternity.”

[spn-fandom-breathing-heavily]

not even risking that shit

[codyslipring-deactivated2015060]

scrolled past this, re-evaluated my life, then SCROOOLLLED back up and hit the damn reblog button. 

[isamaegreenleaf]

Last comment same thing. Sorry to the next person who sees this. I just can’t risk it. I have things I need to do before my life becomes hell. Lol

[kotbliny]

[eroscestlavie]

Update I just got an opportunity to make exactly $115 and i’m not kidding so like. Reblog to make $115.

[leonardcohenofficial]

fun studying tip: if you’re a procrastinator, play tom jones’s “what’s new pussycat” on repeat while writing your papers and do not turn it off until you are finished, it will motivate you to finish that essay as quickly as possible

[riverboatfrogs-deactivated20181]

make sure to throw one “it’s not unusual” in the middle while u take ur quick snack break

[captaincrusher]

Here you have the Infinite Jukebox that will play an infinite version of What’s new pussycat, randomly jumping through the verses and never getting to the end. 

[leonardcohenofficial]

do you ever regret a post and the hell it creates

[leonardcohenofficial]

why do you people continue to inflict this awful post on others

[dannykitchen]

Advice for girls: buy skinny jeans in the boy’s section

They’re more comfortable, still form fitting, and best of all: THE POCKETS. THEY HAVE ACTUAL POCKETS.

don’t believe me? look:

these are boys pants, and they look just as good on me as any other skinny jeans I own

See that phone? I’m going to put it in the pocket. Must be so small right??

Ah yes, girl pants length. Probably can’t fit any further than that-

what? what’s this?

Good god. Oh good lord in heaven. This is blasphemous.

Look at how much room is still there. There’s chaos in the streets. Babies are crying. Fashion designers are screaming out of fear of the unknown.

Buy your pants in the boys section, girls. Live in the beautiful world you deserve where you can fit shit in your pocket.

[prismatic-bell]

Curvy ladies: Men’s dress pants have more room in the butt. I don’t know why, I only know that all my dress pants for work are off the rack in the men’s department in Target. Literally nobody has noticed, except a couple of my younger coworkers who’ve asked me–you guessed it–”oh my god, where did you find pants with pockets?”

Tall ladies: men’s pants are easier to find in longer lengths than women’s pants are.

Trans ladies: Wanna get on this gravy train, but afraid people will misgender you for wearing clothes off the men’s racks? Step one: tell me who these people are and I will punch them in the face. Step two: if it doesn’t make you dysphoric, please don’t feel obligated to wear pants off the women’s racks if pants off the men’s racks are more comfy/useful to you. I’m a cis woman who’s been wearing pants from the boys’ section and, later, the men’s section, ever since I hit puberty and in thirteen years maybe, maybe half a dozen people have noticed. And it’s always women asking the oh-my-god-pockets question. You’re all good. <3

Fat ladies: you will pay the same for a pair of 42x32 jeans as for a pair of 34x32 jeans, instead of having to pay some kind of Fat Penance Tax by way of being in the “plus size” section. Also, did I mention more room in the butt?

Ladies concerned about modesty: For obvious reasons, there is more crotch space in men’s pants. Embrace it and enjoy a life free from cameltoe worries and spontaneous labia-wedgies when you squat down.

All ladies: I swear to god the waists in women’s pants these days are made specifically to fit exactly nobody so that no matter what you do, your underwear will show. Men’s pants do not do this. The waists sit where they’re supposed to and will actually lay flat against the small of your back instead of flopping open to show your unmentionables to the world. If you want hiphugger jeans, buy one leg-length too small and one waist-size too large and let them hang, and they still won’t accidentally show your undies. Men’s pants will last longer. They cost less, in a lot of cases. Embrace the men’s jeans. Buy the men’s jeans. Stop buying shitty flimsy women’s jeans that wear out in six months.

AND FINALLY: to determine your size in men’s pants, take a tape measure around your waist at its smallest point. This is your waist size and will be the first number in a pair of men’s pants. Next, take the tape measure from about an inch below your no-no squares parts, and run it to your ankle. (You may need a friend or parent to help with this.) This is your inseam length, and will be the second number on a pair of men’s pants. Men’s and boys’ pants are tailored the same way, so if you have trouble finding your waist size in men’s, hop over to the boys’ section. Feel no shame. If they’d give us decent fucking pants we wouldn’t have to steal theirs, right?

[thewinterotter]

Listen you guys, I am SO MAD ABOUT THIS. I’ve seen this first post before, and recently my mom said, “Hey, did you see that post on Tumblr about shopping for jeans in the men’s department?”

And I said yeah, I’d seen it, I’ve been through the Trying To Fit Clothes On My Stupid Body wars, and this post really only applied to skinny jeans because they’re so stretchy. It couldn’t possibly work for regular jeans! I have TRIED SO MANY TIMES. I’ve always shopped in the men’s department because women’s clothes are like 90% bullshit and 10% fake pockets.

But I hadn’t seen the second addition, which gave me more hope, and I decided to just try on a few pairs when I was at Old Navy the other day. They have some “classic” jeans with no give to them at all, which is what I was trying on years ago that convinced me it just wasn’t possible. (Jeans in my price range didn’t really come with any form of stretch back then, as I recall. Textile technology is bad-ass.) But these days they mostly have “flex” jeans that have some give to them. (Women’s jeans are usually labeled “stretch” but apparently men’s have to be “flex” like they need stretchy garments so their HUGE MUSCLES don’t just TEAR THEIR CLOTHES!)

This was totally an impulse decision so I couldn’t measure myself, but I grabbed a few sizes based on what I vaguely thought my measurements probably were and decided it couldn’t possibly be worse than the endless cycle of regret, dissatisfaction, and recrimination that is trying on women’s clothing.

The first pair I tried on fit like a DREAM. I’ve been gaining weight lately which is a whole separate nightmare (mainly centered around “but I don’t WANT to buy new bras, this is bullshit!”) and the reason I need to buy new jeans because nothing freaking fits me, and I was sure these wouldn’t either, but DAMN. They’re the best pair of jeans I own. Twice as thick, pockets twice as big, legs nice and loose (they don’t even sell women’s jeans with a cut remotely similar to this), and contrary to my super dumb opinion from before this experience, they’ve got my plenty of room for all my womanly curvey bits. AND because they’re actually a relaxed fit instead of trying to cling to every inch of me, they don’t show my weight nearly as much as my women’s jeans do, they’re easier to move in, they’re not constantly inching down my hips with every move I make, and overall they just make me feel GOOD about how I look which is a strange new sensation I could definitely get used to.

It’s like a miracle. I want to cry both out of joy and because of all the shitty jeans now filling my closet when I could have been buying comfortable, relaxed, pocket-having men’s jeans all these years. Many blessings to the posters above, may your crops grow and your cows give milk and your jeans hold all the gadgets you desire.

[thatoneartyishperson]

Also: men’s pants have constant sizes that are based off of actual measurements instead of the women’s whatever-the-company-wants-to-make-the-size sizes. They’re far more reliable and your size will translate to other brands.

[inconspicuouslyevil]

@get-dunkd-on help me remember this for our next Goodwill run lmao

[fenland-witch-deactivated202005]

I HAVE to try some men’s jeans. Sick of these super skinny show everything always having to be hitched up no pocket crap jeans!

[k-lionheart-deactivated20171126]

Honestly signal boost. Because imagine this actually starts some kind of ludicrous pants revolution that ends up causing women’s pants fashion company’s sales to tank, absolutely forcing them to realize men’s pants have always had the right idea and start doing that instead of this bullshit. Like just imagine. And don’t just signal boost this. Tell every woman you know. Tell every trans friend and every curvy friend out there. You see a lady down the street, stop her and tell her you’ve discovered a new gospel and it’s purchasing men’s pants. With the way women spread information when we’re excited, the mentioned scenario could actually be hella achievable

[akreliadeklavesht-deactivated20]

PRAISE THE UNIVERSE I FOUND THIS POST AGAIN

[what-even-is-thiss]

Guys. Gals. Non binary pals. As a trans ftm person who just recently started shopping in the men’s department and has gigantic hips full of dysphoria let me tell you a thing.

Athletic cut jeans have more room in the butt. I repeat. Athletic cut jeans have more room in the butt. You don’t need to go to the dress pants to fit your lovely curvy self in there. Go to the regular section or big and tall if you’re a bit taller and/or wider, and there’ll be a little section of athletic style jeans. They’ve still got the giant blessed pockets and the room in the crotch and if you’re really curvy with a large bone structure like I am you can get yourself some quality pants.

This has been an addition by your local nb trans dude. Thank you for your time.

[sulrae]

Reblog to save a fucking life

[baguel-bytes-deactivated2021042]

THANK YOU for the athletic cut addition! My biggest problem was not being able to find things that fit my waist and my legs at the same time and I kind of just gave up because of it. This entire post is amazing!