#/ implied sa

[cosmictapestry]

i want to be well, part 3

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help masterpost

(On Hiatus for the rest of the month while I work on other things)

Soon after Danny takes two of the failed clones into his body his parents let Vlad take him to a Gala in Gotham. When the Bats clock that he is pregnant they work to get him away from Vlad, find out how and why this happened to him, and fix it.

Danny is just relieved to finally have some adults on his side, and be able to relax and focus on himself and the babies.

Part 1 - Gala and discovery

Part 2 - confronting Vlad and calling The Guy

part 3 - Research and meeting Zatana

part 4 - Raiding Amity

part 5 - Jazz and Danny reunite

part 6 - Jazz's power point

part 7- Damian and Danny bond and Jason comes back

Part 8- Jason meets Jazz

Part 9- Jason meets Danny (finally)

Part 10- Danny calls his friends

Part 11- First date (part 1)

part 12- first date (part 2)

Part 13- Danny's doctors appointment

Part 14- Jason and Danny go camping

Part 15- Vlad crashes the party

Part 16- Frostbite comes to give various check ups

Part 17 - meeting the Justice League

Too many people very kindly asked to be tagged so I've made a master post people can subscribe to! I will reply to this post to inform anyone subscribed about new chapters. Thank you

Please don't reply to this post!

[sketchyface]

Give my man therapy!

(Tell me if I missed any TW/CW tags!)

[oblique-lane]

"Just a bunch more biblical paintings then I'll go back to drawing yaoi" Or you can do both, renaissance style, Michelangelo or Raphael I honestly forgot who drew those naked men on the Sistine Chapel's ceilings ok bad joke aside: I'd love hearing more about your headcannons, specifically about the childhoods of the characters (ranging from the mercs, to Miss pauling, the Administrator, hell anyone you have ideas about!)

Childhood headcanons... How did you know I've had something about that on my mind? Alright, let's talk about...

Little Sniper

(Lots of trigger warnings ahead, check tags!)

Mundy was obviously an unhappy child. When I imagine the surroundings he grew up in, I see miles and miles of empty landscapes, dry yellow grass, unkept barns destroyed by rust and a deep choking sense of loneliness.

The closest neighbour woul be so far away you better bring a bicycle with you if you want to visit. School and Church were the only places to go, which were also very far away. No kids his age nearby. And even if there were peers at school, no one wanted him anyway.

Mundy was "weird", he didn't quite understand other kids' jokes, didn't get what was so fun about what everyone else enjoying to do; he was weaker, always loosing in close fights; he didn't even look very local for whatever reason. Even if he tried to get along with someone, it either ended up with him being ostracized or with him experiencing the greatest boredom imaginable. And the kids quickly picked up on his "difference", making him an object of bullying.

It started with making fun of everything Mundy does, his habits and speech patterns, his morals and ideas... Which wasn't anything too big for him but it was still very annoying and upsetting, he grew to hate school very quickly.

Coming home being exhausted from this kind of socializing, no one would really comfort him. Being very little, he used to tell on his bullies to his parents, telling how hurt he was by their words... And it would only made a mess in his family.

Overreactive mother: "Poor baby, I'm so sorry, I'll tell their parents to stop being mean, my little little baby, maybe we can go homeschooling..."

And a strict father: "Are you a man or what? Yeah, he will end up a bloody baby if you keep spoiling him like that! Suck it up! Of you can't stand for yourself, no one will. At this pace you'll end up a nobody, with no home nor respect from the world".

Mundy didn't want to be neither a baby nor a disappointment. He figured that sharing his feelings with parents wouldn't be that good of an idea, they won't understand anyway. And also that he must fight somehow.

If he can't win in close fights, he thought, he could hit them from a distance: throwing small rocks at the bullies from up the tree...

–He was punished for that. For some reason, every time Mundy fought back, he was scolded by the elders, who for some reason always believed the bullies that HE was the one starting the fights. They forbid him to fight back. He closed his feelings shut and stopped paying attention to almost everything around him.

Why was it like that? Why was he so different from other kids, why couldn't he understand them? Why couldn't he understand anyone in this world? The world was a mess of unspoken rules and suffering, overcoming oneself, pain; he couldn't fit in. He was always on the wrong even if he didn't do anything. He felt like an outsider everywhere he went.

Sometimes he wondered if he was born into a wrong family or that he wasn't a human at all. Looking at the night sky, he was thinking about aliens, maybe they would come to him someday and take him to the planet he truly belongs, being accidentally swapped at birth. Maybe then he will be happy, he will leave this sickening place and finally start living. He thought about dying, too.

He started to spend a lot of time in the forest any chance he got. He was alone here, unwatched, somewhat free. It was easier to breathe here. He was alone but it didn't feel worse than being with those people. He played by himself. He started to believe that he actually liked loneliness.

As Mundy and his peers grew older, the kids started to become more and more savage, thanks to the hormones and age crisis. Bullying intensified as those kids started to feel the need to assert themselves. Mundy was maliciously beaten (he fought back as much as he could and even win sometimes, but the beating only got worse each time). They used any chance to humiliate him.

And each time after that Mundy would take the knife or his father's shotgun and go to the forest to take his anger on animals, "hunting", since he couldn't do anything to fix the root of the problem.

He would hunt for something small, like birds or feral rabbits so he could butcher them and cook on fire to eat. At moments like this he felt like a beast, and somehow it was the most pleasant state for him to be in.

There were no words available to form his pain into, so the pain came through violence. The more violent his abusers became, the more violent he was at his "hunting". The more he felt his father's gaze piercing him with disappointment, the sharper his knife movements would get. Sometimes he would let the bodies to just rot like that, completely butchered in a very non-culinary way.

(Maybe someday he would lure one of those bastards to the forest and kill him the same way and blame it on an animal attack)

And at some point... His classmates would came up with something that would cross all the lines of forgivable. Somewhere there was the peak of what they could do. Something beyond.

There wasn't a known way to him to deal with that. No known words. Everyone would be so grossed out of him if they knew. He was beyond disgusted with himself, too. What was the point of living now?

That day he would shot a wild boar, take his machete out and cut it open, butcher it the way his father would when they wanted a pork dinner for the night... And reached to its heart.

The heart is where the love is stored, right? That's what people say when referring to this "love" he'd never seem to know. A dark read bloody organ that feels like sponge inside of thin rubber. There's something about this that Mundy lacks. He has a heart too, it's pulsating inside him, but for some reason it was unable to produce the "love", a very necessary fluid for a human body. He wondered if it's sweet. He wondered if he was even able to taste it.

He took a bite... And realized what he was doing.

He was, indeed, a monster.

When he went back home, later than usual, he would be met with his father's gaze. He was always throwing gazes, for every occasion, Mundy was used to feel small and guilty under them. But this time... It felt somehow much more personal. More disturbing.

His father looked at him as if he was a dirty little creature, a rat, a maggot. He looked at him the way one would look at a criminal who wronged their whole family. He looked at him like he knew.

His father didn't say anything that day and it wasn't brought up ever again.

Mundy was indeed a monster who was utterly terrified of this though. He didn't want to be one. He made a promise to himself that everything he does will be morally justified, he promised himself to become a good... decent person. He would earn his place in the world, even if his father, everyone else denies it.

It gets blurry at this point. Sniper doesn't really remember his life before about 17, when he was finishing school and starting to work on his sniper licence. For some reason he always knew he would be good at shooting and killing. When remembering his home, Sniper would recall the smell of grass, mother's cooking, the warm sun, and a steady life he had. He knew it was boring, but it still somehow felt like home. Home he felt was lost somewhere he didn't remember.

Either way, he was always a loner.

[catboymoments]

I know I’ve made comics about these situations before but since the show ended and I have a better grasp on the characters I felt like I had to draw out some feelings I was having re: Hunter postcanon dealing with trauma and healing and physical touch so ! Here’s this. Darius is such a good dad and I love him so much.

[eugenoid-draws]

Thinking about how little bodily autonomy Daan possessed his whole life

[nyaskitten]

pspspps skybound angsters come get ur juice

[ominousblob]

A touch is an invading thing. Its presence has the power to move all throughout you without ever having to move its hand, how can that not be possession?

[nerves-nebula]

Last year I made a comic about Quinn, which I knew at the time would quickly become outdated as i developed the characters and their setting more, but I liked making it anyway. This summer I've decided to give a little update on how the story has changed. 

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Finally Getting Help (prt 7)

Masterpost

Danny was very happy to be dragged around by Damian being introduced to all of his pets, first outside to the barn to meet Bat Cow and his ducks, and the giant weird dragon creature which was so cute!! It was all over Danny too, obviously liked him. Danny had a feeling if he woke up from nightmares or couldn’t sleep he would end up finding his way back to the barn to cuddle up with these animals. At this time of year it would probably be a bit cold and night but the cold never really bothered him and Goliath was warm. 

Then back into the house to meet all of the pets, the dogs, and snakes, and Alfred the cat, and finally a second cat and her kittens. 

“This one is just a foster,” Damian said, sitting on the bed with his legs crossed in a half lotus as Danny sat on the floor next to the box the mama cat was in with her four little ones. Danny felt like he might cry, it was so cute! The mama was a little wary of him but he was easing her way into her trust and good graces.

“Mhm?” Danny sounded, he was listening but he was scared to move since the mama cat was sniffling his fingers.

“I found her while she was heavily pregnant, feral cats usually have kittens in spring, at this time of year they would have been too vulnerable outside. I’ll rehome them when they’re old enough,” Damian explained. “I was glad I got her to trust me enough that I could be present and make sure nothing went wrong while she had the babies.”

Danny held his breath as he tried to pet the cat. The quiet stretching between them until he felt ready to talk without scaring the cat. “Am I your next pregnant stray,” Danny joked.

Damian gave him a guarded look over. “... I have been told humans don’t like being compared to animals,” He said bluntly, and Danny laughed. 

“Ya most don’t. But you take very good care of your animals, when you’re making this comparison, I’m guessing what you’re trying to say is that you’ll do what you can do be here for me and make sure I have what I need for me and the babies to be healthy and safe?” Danny said, giving Damian a fond smile. 

“Yes,” Damian said stiffly. This was why he usually preferred animals, they could read his intentions and didn’t require him to say such embarrassingly vulnerable things. At least Danny was saying them for him so he just had to agree. 

Danny finished petting the cat and moved to sit next to Damian on the bed. “It’s okay Damian, I really appreciate that. I know handling these emotions can be hard, they feel too big for our bodies and they’re hard to express. I’ll let you in on a secret though, they’re more easy to express physically, and I’m not made of glass just because I’m pregnant. We should spar later.”

“Are you formally trained?” Damian asked stiffly. 

“My mother was an expert martial artist and she taught me, but I’m very strong too. I promise you won’t hurt me Damian,” He promised, bumping his shoulder against the kid’s and giving him a smile. 

“Alright, I will go easy on you.” Damian promised, just as stiffly.

“Until I prove you can’t afford to,” Danny joked and Damian scoffed and shoved Danny’s shoulder. “But really, thank you Damian. It means a lot that you and your family are willing to stick your necks out for me like this.” He sighed, if he didn’t know better he might have wished his parents had been the ones to protect and support him like this, but wishes were dangerous things.

“This family is made entirely of strays, tragedy is a prerequisite. You’ll fit right in,” Damian promised before getting up from the bed, apparently that was enough emotion. “Do you want to train now?” he asked looking back at Danny. 

“Sure, I assume this being the home of the bats and birds there’s some sort of training space?” Danny asked getting up from the bed. 

“Yes. This way,” Damian agreed and trotted out of the room with Danny on his heels, making sure to close the door behind him so none of the kittens could wander out. 

--------

Jason took off his helmet and dropped it on the couch with a sigh of relief before wandering back into the kitchen to grab a drink. So what if he was technically still too young for it? He’d done a lot worse just in the last 24 hours then half a glass of scotch. He had been off grid for a couple of days on a mission and had just gotten home. He was exhausted and half of him wanted to have his drink and go to bed, leaving his phone off for another day so he could get a proper rest. 

But he had responsibilities, both to his gang, his turf, and more recently even to his family, so he turned it back on and grimaced when more than a dozen notifications popped up in a row. Damn, something big must have happened while he was gone. Why could there never be just a quiet day around here?!

He opened the most recent message from Bruce that just said; ‘can you call me when you have the chance?’ which made him sigh. But at the same time, it wasn’t urgent, it was ‘when he had a chance’ not immediately or anger about him not answering sooner. So knowing that he scrolled back down to the oldest message so he could get a feel of what was going on.

Cas, 28 hours ago: New brother! 🤗

Oh, well that was a very good start to the context, it seemed that Bruce was in the process of adopting some other poor schmuck. Well, hopefully they’d do better by it then Jason had. And explained why Bruce wanted him to call, he always worried now how Jason would react to new siblings, as if he wasn’t well over that. He’d only been mad about Tim at first but he wasn’t even Really mad at Tim anymore! Ya he felt the urge to attack him regularly, but only the same way Jason did with everyone else in the family now.

Tim 22 hours ago: I’ve got a favour to ask, or maybe a tip for you depending on how much you want to kill someone right now. Vlad Masters brought a pregnant 16 year old to the gala last night. Apparently he’s the baby daddy. 

Oh that had Jason seeing green, his lips pulling back in a silent snarl. That man was good as dead, especially when Jason paused to google him and saw someone who must have been old enough to be the kids Father, if not even grandfather judging by the gray hair! 

Tim 19 hours ago: Don’t rush in! Turns out he’s got superpowers of the magical variety. You’re going to have to prepare for this one, and talk to Danny.

Danny must be the new kid then, the pregnant 16 year old Bruce was no doubt making quick steps to at least foster. Where were the kid’s parents in this? 

Tana 16 hours ago: Please make sure your wards are set up and you have that anti-possession charm we gave you. There is a situation still developing. 

Huh, well, good to know both that she was involved and what sort of powers they might be dealing with. 

Tim 8 hours ago: We have the parents in custody but didn’t have the resources to hold Masters. Danny and his sister are staying at the manor for now. You’ll like her, tough-as-nails red head.

Jason rolled his eyes, he dated one amazon and now everyone thinks the only people he’s into are tough ladies! He likes tough boys too god damn it! Why doesn’t no one get after Dickie about this?! (He knows they do.)

The last text from the family before Bruce’s was one from Damian, which was rare.

Damian: Hello Todd, you should know before you meet him that Danny has also previously died and come back. I believe you and he are quite similar and I do not know if that will mean you get along well or if you will repel one another. You should know that if you hurt him there will be consequences. 

Well wasn’t that just the cutest! Demon brat didn’t usually get attached to new people so soon.

He texted Bruce back: No I will Not call you. But I can be bribed to come for dinner tomorrow if Alfred makes lasagna. 

He checked the messages he had from his lieutenants about business and replied to the ones that needed it. Then the ones from his friends. He was just about to turn his phone off again when he got a text back from Bruce. 

Bruce: Done, we’ll see you tomorrow. I’m sorry Jay.

Well that was ominous. Jason sighed and turned off his phone, setting it down on the coffee table and heading to bed. He needed to fucking sleep. Whatever the hell Bruce was sorry for could wait until tomorrow.

--------

Bruce had asked Jasmine for a copy of her slideshow, and Tim for a copy of his notes and updated the files on Danny, Jasmin, Damian, and Jason. He always felt a bit odd about the files he had on his own children, but they were important! Both because his memory wasn’t infallible and he needed to remember all this, and because if he needed to tell someone about his children quickly it was good to have all that already typed out and ready.

Not he was just sitting at the Bat-Computer, staring at the cover picture of the slide show. All of them were so young, and all dead or irrevocably changed by the actions of adults around them. His goal, all their goals, had always been to make a safer world for children, and everyone but especially children. And every time he was confronted with the abject failure to protect a child it tore at his heart. If he found who had blocked them from contacting the JL he was going to have very strong words with them.

“You can’t save every child Master Bruce,” Alfred said making Bruce jump. He must have been staring at the computer for longer then he realized, to not notice the butler’s approach. “There are billions of people on the planet, you cannot catch every single one, especially the clever ones who hide it well. They’re responsible for the harm they cause, not you for not being able to stop it.”

They’d had this conversation before when Bruce got too hanged up on the people he’d failed. He knew that wallowing didn’t do any good, and depression got in the way of action, but he couldn’t always help it. As hyper-logical as he tried to be to compensate, he was still human, and seeing these things would always hurt.

“It’s not just Danny and Jazz,” Bruce said, rubbing his face. “It’s Jason too, I’m trying to figure out how… how what Jazz said about liminals and ghost changes how I feel about him. She says they can look like their immoral but it’s always amoral, following their obsession. I feel like I failed him that this is how he came back. And I blamed him so much, and put him down so much. She said their obsessions have to be supported, if they don’t indulge in their obsessions they die.

“No wonder he’s reacted so negatively every time I talked to him about this revenge quest, this thing that he’s doing. Now that I know I wonder if we can compromise, if we can’t then what? I don’t know if I can blame him at all for what he’s doing, but I know what he’s doing is wrong. I don’t know what to do Alfred.” Bruce said, rubbing his face hard.

“Well, it sounds to me you’re putting the cart before the horse Master Bruce. You haven’t even spoken to him about it yet, and you haven’t slept in more than 24 hours. Sleep, then talk to him, then you’ll know how worried to actually be,” Alfred advised.

“You’re right, as usual,” Bruce chuckled and got up, shutting down the bat computer. “What would I do without you,” He chuckled, patting Alfred’s shoulder affectionately. 

“I’m sure you’d be just fine,” Alfred said, in a tone that made it clear he was just being polite and a playful twinkle in his eyes that made Bruce laugh. 

“Thank you Alfie. Let’s all get some rest.”

Next

[sotogalmo]

7 — 8:07

Luka from Alnst in Fear and Hunger 2. (Crossover au, by me and with the help of my twin @pinkcocopuff-aqualoid )

Smth smth, I'm having like. Many ideas of the Alnst cast in fear and hunger. Luka primarily though.

I think Luka is a good fit for the world of Fear and Hunger, by how much he went thru and how- he's very heavily traumatized (like Levi in a way? The whole 'child soldier' is used for Luka but in a more "idol" way. Maybe he was moreso kidnapped and was taken to perform. Or maybe he's more of a homeless kid? I dunno).

But, rlly- the only reason why I'm thinking so much of this crossover is cuz of an idea that I have for Luka's moonscorched form.

I think it would be very very similar to both Cocoon and Weeping Scope. Moreso weeping scope in the way that they'll both be naked and the fact that Weeping Scope's,, body is very. The game hammers down the fact that Levi was/is a kid when he went thru all that he did (abuse, war, etc), so that's why his form is particularly more underdeveloped in that area- 👍

But the difference would be the fact that Luka's moonscorched form would have eyes at the areas where it's meant to be private (a small call back to the fact that in one art, it showed a young Luka with an alien shadow on the wall seemingly kissing him. He was a kid. He was young). He has been the star from the get-go in Alien Stage.

The similarities he would have with Cocoon is the way that Cocoon has a collar round their neck and the upper half is,, like some casket or smth. But for the whole 'upper half' it would be more like.

Similar to Big Kaworu and Lilith in the EVA movie:

But I also mention the collar, so just imagine this^ but they have a collar so neither of them can escape each other and they can be pulled back; treated like a pet or an animal. But it can also be like, marionette strings

Which I think, would be interesting to at least some animal parts to Luka's moonscorched form. Like maybe a popular dog breed, or some unique pet (bird, snake, etc). The half on Luka's moonscorched form would be the “pet”; a Blue-lipped green pit viper I think would be fitting ("blue lipped" to match his purple fingers. green pit = ANAKT Garden). The viper would be a leucistic one (half lost of pigment. Not the same as albino), to match Luka's yellow eyes and such.

His front face would be, more- abstract? If that makes sense. Abstract in the way of making a doll, yk? Rosy cheeks, and such

I don't have much of a name for his moonscorched form, but my twin has always been saying to call him "Marionette Doll" (Marionette in a formal way, Doll in the term of endearment). So that's what he's gonna be called (tho I rlly want another name, since Marionette Doll is just- kinda weird??? Dunno how to explain it. I just don't like it all that much)

[bunnieswithknives]

Hostage Rowan deserves his own outfit 

(ALSO THE DICK JOKE ISN'T CANNON ADFGHK)

[stuckyfingers]

я готов отвечать

'mission' in the low light. the asset has been commanded to kneel.

[static-scribblez]

i’m actually gonna be sick.

[yellow-computer-mouse]

Some older UTMV fics I haven't posted!

under cut!!

Contrary to popular belief, Nightmare did have friends. He had several healthy friendships with well-known skeletons like Blue, Ink, and Vio. He liked to go out and do things such as get dinner with his friends. He liked to hear what his friends had to say, and they liked listening to him as well.

Most of the time, that is.

It wasn’t like they didn’t like him or his opinions, no matter how much it seemed that way. Nightmare just wasn’t very good at talking to people. This was made incredibly apparent when he decided to meet up at Ccino’s cafe with Thistle, Geno, and Lavender. They were all seated and chatting aimlessly when the Minecraft server that they shared came up.

“I’m not on that,” Geno said, looking up from his drink.

“Oh, we could add you,” Lavender offered. Thistle mumbled his confirmation as he ripped a sugar packet open with his teeth. Nightmare had been quiet as the others spoke, preferring to listen to them converse instead of jump in and embarrass himself, until he remembered something Killer had told him.

“Speaking of Minecraft,” he began, but the others didn’t seem to hear him. “Guys.” They continued their conversation without him, still not acknowledging his attempts. He began to grow frustrated as their voices grew louder. He cleared his throat in a futile attempt to get their attention. Still nothing. Nightmare clenched his teeth, wishing he was at home. Listening to them talk over him angered him further, and in a fit of rage, he slammed his fist down on the table as hard as he could.

None of them noticed.

Why didn’t they notice him?

Nightmare felt his face shift into a hurt expression, eyes turning downward. He shifted in his chair, bringing his knees up to his chest. His tentacles hung limply over the backrest as he buried his face into his lap, trying not to cry. This was stupid. His friends were stupid. He peeked out of the corner of his eye to the other three. They were still talking like nothing happened, not even bothering to glance over to him. They were treating him like he wasn’t there.

What the fuck?

Nightmare hopped out of his chair, grabbing his bag. “I’m going home,” he mumbled, fighting to keep tears out of his voice. He didn’t cry, he couldn’t cry, he wouldn’t cry.

“Wait, what? Why?” Lavender asked, looking at him with worry in their eyes.

“No reason.” They looked like they were going to say something else, but Nightmare was quick to cut them off. “Fuck off, I’m tired.” Technically, he wasn’t lying. He was tired- tired of being invisible. Tired of being ignored. Tired of hoping that his friends would literally just acknowledge his very existence because really, was that too much to ask? To be recognized as a fucking person?

He carelessly ripped open a portal to his base, practically throwing himself through and crashing face-first into the couch. Cross, sitting next to him, jumped slightly.

“Hi, boss,” he said nervously. Nightmare stuck up his open hand, tilted it slightly, and dropped his arm back to his side, sighing heavily. “How’d it go?”

“Hrmmng,” Nightmare groaned, rolling over to his back and slumping to the floor. “Not good.”

“How not good?” Horror asked, cocking his head. Nightmare opened his mouth, hesitated, and closed it again. He glanced behind him, looking Cross up and down. The monochrome skeleton blinked purposefully, which Nightmare took as an invitation to continue.

“Well, it was annoying. They mostly were just talking about things they’ve all done together, which somehow devolved into talking about the server- Killer knows what I’m talking about. I tried to tell them something, but nobody listened to me- or even recognized my existence- so…” Nightmare trailed off, hearing himself starting to whine the way you do before you cry. Cross gave a hum of displeasure and Horror furrowed his brow. Nightmare took a breath, continuing shakily. “So- I don’t know. This happens a lot, so I guess I should expect it by now, but it’s still really sad because I just want to talk about things I like and-” He cut off sharply, pressing his palms against his eyelids and biting his tongue. He wouldn’t cry. He would not. Cry.

Cross lightly touched his shoulder and Nightmare crumpled forward, sobbing into his knees.“I-I-I j-just want to- to be heard,” he blubbered shakily. Cross slid onto the floor next to him, offering a hug tentatively. Nightmare leaned into it, shoulders shaking. Horror looked around awkwardly before getting up and leaving the room. After some time, Nightmare managed to calm down and Cross released him. He quickly retreated to his room so he could get pissed at his friends in peace. Unfortunately, Horror followed him, awkwardly trying to make him feel better by showing him things Killer had sent him. Nightmare would never admit it, but it kind of worked. For the first time in a long time- longer than he could remember, actually- he felt seen. He felt heard. He was listened to, and sometimes, that’s all he needed.

Nightmare sat atop the stump of the Tree of Feelings. He was having some feelings, himself. He didn’t want this. Looking around, he took in the dusty, deserted landscape. He felt a kind of disconnect between doing this and, well, doing this. He knew he did, but he couldn’t remember anything about it. There was a blackout lasting almost immediately after he ate the apple until he found himself in a MafiaTail, scared and alone. He had asked the Sans of the AU for directions and had instead “earned” a much more… personal prize. He was only seven.

He didn’t like to think about that.

After he made his way to a different AU (an OuterTale! How fun), he met Error for the first time when he was about ten. Error was tearing apart the universe. He had asked what the god was doing, and Error replied, “None of your business.”

He heard a staticky kind of ripping sound and almost laughed at how well-timed it was. Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear.

And oh, appear he did. The blinding white light of the Antivoid poured into the (now) eternally night AU, appearing as though Error was glowing.

“Long time, no see, Error,” Nightmare said smoothly, as though he hadn’t just been on the verge of tears recounting memories from a time meant to be pure and fun. He was glad Error had arrived. He didn’t want to be alone as much as he said he did.

“G00d m0rn1ng t0 y0u t00,” Error said, smirking and snapping the portal closed instantly. “W45n’t 3xp3ct1ng t0 533 y0u 1n 4 d43d un1v3r53.”

“Wait, dead?” Nightmare said, startled. “I- you’ve gotta be kidding me. This AU has been around for hundreds, no, thousands of years. You’re joking. You’re joking! I- oh- you are not saying what I think you are, no way. This- you can’t be-”

“%t0p y0ur p4th3t1c r4mbl1ng. Th3 4U’5 c0mpl3t3ly gl1tch3d 0ut. L00k 4t th3 fuck1ng 5ky, N1ghtm4r3.” The corrupted skeleton did as he was told. “Wh4t d0 y0u 533?”

“It’s nighttime,” he said, hating how young he sounded. Sounding young is why he was here in the first place. After thinking for a second, he added, “So…?”

“%0?! Th4t’5 th3 wh0l3 d4y-n1ght cycl3, f0r 0n3 th1ng. F0r 4n0th3r, n0n3 0f th3 1nh4b1t4nt5 4r3 5t1ll h3r3-”

“I’m still here. Dream is too, sometimes.”

“-N0t n34rly 0ft3n 3n0ugh t0 54v3 1t. G0dd4mn1t, N1ghtm4r3, why d0 y0u th1nk y0u 4nd y0ur br0th3r 4r3 c0n51d3r3d 0utc0d35?”

He opened his mouth indignantly, only to shut it again. Why was he an outcode if his AU is fine? “Don’t talk about the day-night cycle. You didn’t grow up here.” He came very close to sticking his tongue out at the god but decided against it. It would have been asking for it unprofessional, after all.

“W45 1t 4lw4y5 n1ghtt1m3 wh3n y0u w3r3 4 k1d? B3c4u53 1’v3 45k3d Dr34m, 4nd h3 54y5 n0.”

“W-well,” Nightmare began. “No. No, it was day sometimes. But! That doesn’t mean the AU’s dead, Error.” He scoffed. “Classic Error, always jumping to conclusions-”

“L45t t1m3 ! c4m3 h3r3 th3 v1ll4g3r5 w3r3 b4ck.”

“Last time you came here the what I’m sorry?” Nightmare asked with wide eyes.

“Th3 v1ll4g3r5. Th3y w3r3 b4ck.”

“Back? Like, as in not dead?” Error gave him a deadpan expression.

“Y35, 45 1N N0T D34D, Y0U FUCK1NG 1D10T!” Nightmare was silent, staring at the ground. He bit his tongue, then his lip, then his cheek, then his lip again, just for kicks.

He didn’t like being yelled at.

“For real?” he asked, feeling smaller than he ever had before. (Well, maybe not ever.) He hated feeling small. He knew what people did to things that were small.

“W0uld ! l13 t0 y0u?” Error asked. The god’s voice had softened, probably realizing how much this fucking dead tree and rubble meant to Nightmare. He shook his head slightly. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t. Crying means you’re not happy. Being not happy is bad. That means they have to make you happy.

“L00k, !’d t3ll y0u t0 s4y y0ur g00dby35, but 1t l00k5 l1k3 y0u 4r3.” Error paused for a moment when Nightmare didn’t react. A million thoughts were going through his head at once, and he wanted them to stop.

“! w45 g01ng t0 t3ll y0u b3f0r3 ! t0r3 1t d0wn 4nyw4y5,” the god said dismissively. Still nothing. Nightmare could barely process any of the thoughts that he was having. Error was all he could understand, and he was clinging to the sad truths the god was speaking. “D0 y0u w4nt m3 t0 w4lk y0u thr0ugh wh4t th15 m34n5?” He felt himself nod slightly. The whole conversation didn’t feel real, and Error’s presence always looking painted-on didn’t help. He felt himself begin to space out, but he was quickly snapped back by Error’s multicolored fingers.

“C’m0n, 5t4y w1th m3 h3r3.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Try r3p34t1ng wh4t ! s4y. 0r 1f y0u h4v3 4 d1ff3r3nt m3th0d, g0 f0r 1t. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w d1550c14t10n w0rk5.” Nightmare whispered what the god had just said back to himself. The act of speaking stopped his brain for a moment. He still felt small, unbelievably small, but respected. It was just like when he was taught by Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about Mr. Gilbert don’t think about him don’t don’t don’t you little whore don’t.

“)k4y, 50 th3 v1ll4g3r5 c0m1ng b4ck- n0t 4ll th3 t1m3, m1nd y0u, ju5t 0nc3 0r tw1c3- m34n5 th4t th3 un1v3r53 15 try1ng t0 3553nt14lly r353t 1t53lf. But 1t’5 n0t 4 r353t, Dr34mt4l35 4r3n’t c4p4bl3 0f th4t. W3ll, 3xc3pt f0r R353tm4r3, but th4t’5 4 wh0l3 0th3r th1ng 1n 4nd 0f 1t53lf.” Error paused. “Fuck. !’m r4mbl1ng. B451c4lly, th3 un1v3r53 w4nt5 t0 run thr0ugh 1t5 5t0ry, but 1t 4lr34dy d1d. H0w3v3r, th3 un1v3r53 d035n’t kn0w th4t b3c4u53 1t’5 c0mpl3t3ly 3mpty.”

“Then why’s the sky broken?” Nightmare asked. He was finally, finally, beginning to get it.

“!- )h. G00d qu35t10n. ! 4ctu4lly d0n’t kn0w. %0m3th1ng mu5t h4v3 c0rrupt3d 1t.”

“Was it me?”

“N0, ! d0n’t th1nk 50. !’m, l1k3, pr3tty 5ur3 th4t’5 p4rt 0f th3 5t0ry.” Error stopped talking for a minute. “$ny qu35t10n5?”

“No- no, I don’t think so.”

“G00d. N0w, ! d0 n33d y0u t0 g3t 0ut 50 ! c4n t34r 1t d0wn-”

“NO!” The two skeletons were quiet for a while.

“Wh4t?” Error asked, the god’s flat tone promising a dark end. Nightmare stood stock-still, paralyzed in fear. He needed to apologize although that never stopped them before.

“I-I mean, uh, d-does Dream know? You said you’d tell me, w- I-I- tha- w-what about Dream?”

“H3 d1dn’t t3ll y0u?” Error, who had previously been facing the remnants of the village turned to face Nightmare. The god’s normal scowl had been replaced with an incredulous look.

“What do you mean he didn’t tell me?” Nightmare asked slowly, not wanting to process what that meant.

“N1ghtm4r3. Y0u 53r10u5ly d1dn’t kn0w?” The god’s voice was soft, tone gentle in a way Nightmare needed liked. His silence was apparently all Error needed to hear. “! told Dr43m t0 t3ll y0u. Y0u w3r3 5upp053d t0 c0nt4ct m3 45 500n 45 y0u c0uld 50 w3 c0uld t4lk 4b0ut 1t. D1d- d1d h3 n0t t3ll y0u?” The genuine concern in Error’s voice was enough to break him. Nightmare fought to keep the tears in his eyes and not streaming down his face, tainting the ground. Tainted. That’s what he was. He couldn’t cry, not in front of Error. He had to be strong if he wanted to be a boy. Look at how easily he broke, he couldn’t be a boy. Boys didn’t break, boys were strong. He had to be strong.

Error was very close to him. Nightmare stepped back in shock. The destroyer was standing right in front of him, only a foot or two away.

“$r3 y0u 0k4y?” Nightmare couldn’t bring himself to move. “H3y, 1 r34lly n33d y0u 0ut 0f h3r3, m4n. !’v3 b33n try1ng t0 b3 ch1ll, but- uh- 1t’5 g0nn4 c0ll4p53. ! d0n’t kn0w h0w 500n, but ! d0n’t w4nn4 fuck 4r0und 4nd f1nd 0ut, y’kn0w?”

He couldn’t move. He was trying. It was like the signal was being interrupted. He was stuck standing stiffy, staring at the dirt underneath his feet.

“Y0u g00d? L1k3, f0r r34l th15 t1m3.” Nightmare tried his absolute hardest to choke out a no yes, but he couldn’t. He tried. Those tears he had been holding in fell, and he couldn’t even wipe them away.

“L00k. ! d0n’t kn0w 1f y0u c4n m0v3 r1ght n0w, 50 h3r3’5 wh4t’5 g0nn4 h4pp3n. !’m g0nn4 5tr1ng y0u up 4nd h0ld y0u 1n th3 $nt1v01d unt1l !’m d0n3 h3r3. Th3n, !’m g0nna dr0p y0u 0ff b4ck 4t y0ur c45tl3. Th3n, !’m g0nn4 have 4 t4lk w1th Dr34m. Ju5t 4 fr13ndly ch4t-”

“He wants what’s best for me,” Nightmare blurted out. The words were fast and jumbled together and were way too hard to understand.

“W4nt1ng wh4t’5 b35t f0r y0u d035n’t m34n h1d1ng 1mp0rt4nt 5h1t fr0m y0u, N1ght.” The god was quiet for a moment. “D1d h3 t3ll y0u th4t?” Nightmare fought to respond.

“A little.” Error sighed, giving the guardian an expression of pity.

“)k4y. C4n y0u m0v3 n0w?” “Dunno,” he said, voice growing more snippy and strained. “Can’t even talk, so…”

“Y0u’r5 pr0b4bly ju5t g01ng n0n-v3rb4l. !’m g0nn4 put y0u 1n the $nt1v01d n0w, g0t 1t? $ctu4lly, f1r5t !’m g01ng t0 bl1ndf0ld y0u. !’ll 4dm1t 1t, th053 l1ght5 4r3 r34lly 0v3r5t1mul4t1ng.” Nightmare barely nodded as Error carefully slipped a blindfold over his eyes, making sure their bones didn’t touch. “)h, 0n3 l45t th1ng. #bb 54y5 ! 5h0uld w4rn y0u, th3 fl00r 15 h0t. N0t h0t 3n0ugh t0 burn y0u, but h0t.” With that, Nightmare was tossed through a portal into the destroyer’s place of residence. He sat on the floor, trying to process what had just happened. His mind felt cloudy and dull. He didn’t know how long he was in there until Error came back through the portal.

“W3ll, 1t’5 g0n3.”

“Gone,” Nightmare whispered to himself. He felt mostly empty, maybe a little bittersweet. Any real emotion was buried deep inside him as a form of protection. He had learned young, being upset only made things worse. He could feel Error give him a funny look.

“Y34h. )G Dr34mt4l3 15 n0 m0r3.”

“All gone,” he said. He didn’t know why. That was childish and unnecessary. He didn’t have control over his actions.

“!- wh4t? !- 0k4y. Wh4t3v3r. Y35. $ll g0n3. By3 by3 Dr34mt4l3.” Nightmare rocked back and forth where he sat, waiting for Error to send him back to his castle. He was tired and he needed to be alone to process this. Actually, scratch that. He just needed to be alone. “$lr1ghty. W3lp, 1t’5 b33n fun, but 1t’5 t1m3 f0r y0u t0 g0 h0m3. Y0u’r3 g0nn4 turn 1nt0 4 nutj0b 1f y0u 5t4y h3r3. ! m34n, l00k 4t #bb. Y1k35.”

“Yikes.” Error laughed slightly.

“Y34h. W3ll, 0ff y0u g0!” Nightmare felt the atmosphere change, growing much colder yet much more welcoming. Taking off his blindfold, he saw Error had dropped him off in his kitchen.

“Oh, hey boss! You’re back.” Nightmare gave a nod. “Why were you hanging with Error?” Nightmare tried to say, “None of your business.” Emphasis on tried. He instead whined, walking away from Killer and heading for his room.

“Alright, don’t wanna talk to me. Damn.” Nightmare gave him a noise of confirmation, completely missing the hurt in the other’s voice. He just wanted to be alone. He thought everything went- well, not well, but better than expected for his AU being destroyed. Okay. He thought everything went okay until he got in his room, closed the door, got into bed, and broke down sobbing. Really turned on the waterworks. The weirdest part? He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why he was upset, because everything went so well. Everything was fine, so why was he crying? The thing that broke him out of it was a small knock on his door. It was timid, like the person knocking was asking permission to ask permission. Cross. He took a deep breath and suddenly he was calm again.

“Come in,” he said quietly. Said like he wasn’t just sobbing into a pillow.

“Uh, are you busy? Because if you are, it’s fine. I-I just was thinking- well- uh, we’re all hanging out in my room and I was wondering if you wanted to join us?”

“I’d love to, Cross, truly. I just really need to be alone right now. Maybe later.” Nightmare felt oddly standoffish and he didn’t know why. He hoped that didn’t leak into his tone. They never liked his tone.

“Oh, alright,” he said, nodding. The ex-soldier slipped back out of the room, careful to shut the door behind him. As soon as Nightmare heard the door close again, he felt better. He felt safe. He felt like he was going to cry until he made himself sick. And so he did. He moved to his bathroom (his blankets were too warm, too fabric-y. Too much. Fuck, he could barely handle wearing a shirt the little perv) and he cried uncontrollably. He screamed and sobbed, letting his guilt and sorrow rip him away. He let any shred of okay-ness be absolutely destroyed and then let the remnants be torn apart. He sat on the cold tile floor and cried until he was sick and then he did it again. And again. After what felt like hours (thirty minutes), he was at least 62% sure that he was okay. Maybe. If you squint. He wiped his eyes, splashed some water on his face, rinsed his mouth out, and went to join the others.

“I’m gonna fucking kill you, nerd,” said the soulless skeleton, wielding his paintbrush menacingly. Acidic red paint dripped from the end. Ink pinned him against a wall, removing all forms of defense he may have. Nightmare stared down at him with wide eyes. His whole team stopped to watch with bated breath. This had happened before, and it didn’t go well. A glance to the right revealed that Dream was watching, too, with fear in his eyes.

“Do it, boss. Go apeshit,” Killer muttered, the slightest smirk creeping onto his face as they all waited for carnage.

Nightmare didn’t move as his eyelight shrunk to a pinprick. He stayed there, letting Ink pin him against the wall and whisper things into his ear as he further trapped the dark skeleton. Blue managed to get up, despite his many injuries, and pull Ink back, telling him something nobody else could hear. Nightmare still didn’t move, aside from violent tremors causing him to visibly shake, even from Dust’s distance. He stayed, back pressed against the wall, no doubt ripping into his delicate tentacles. He eventually crumpled forward to the ground, presumably tearing up his knees as well. He let himself go limp, folding in half on the sharp cement. His tentacles were acting oddly too, staying stock-still in the position they had been in against the wall.

“Boss…?” Horror murmured. Dust glanced over and saw genuine concern in his blown-out eyelight. They were about to say something when an audible gasp came from where their leader lay, drawing the attention of everyone on the battlefield. Horror looked like he was about to say something else when a loud, gut-wrenching sob burst forth from the fallen skeleton.

“Boss!!” he called, starting to run towards him. Dust put an arm out, stopping him silently. Nightmare continued crying on the ground, convulsing as experiences and traumas none of them could understand flowed out of him as tears, his tentacles thrashing about wildly. They all stayed like that- frozen- for several minutes, until Horror eventually shoved Dust aside, running over to him. He dropped down to his knees as he ran, wrapping his arms around their boss.

Not his boss. Their boss.

What was Dust doing?

They followed Horror, Killer running behind them. At a closer proximity, they could hear words mixed in with his sobs. Horror spoke softly as he ran a hand along Nightmare’s back, pulling him closer and rocking him slightly. Nightmare sputtered apologies that slowly devolved into gasps of fear and pain, and he was back to weeping into Horror’s jacket. His voice got progressively higher-pitched as he spouted his regrets until he broke once again, words regressing into shrieks and sobs. His fingers dug into Horror’s back, trying to get closer. Dust heard the Stars tear open a portal, leaving the “Bad Sanses” alone in the AU. Dust seemed to be the only one who noticed, Horror still attempting to comfort Nightmare and Killer watching it all go down with an unreadable expression. Dust waited another moment before joining the other two on the ground, wrapping their arms around the corrupted skeleton. Killer also entered their little freakish huddle at some point, as Dust felt a third body in the pile.

“It’s alright,” Horror said. Dust thought they heard a quiet “No,” come from their boss. “You’re alright.” Nightmare shook his head, wailing louder.

“No, no, it’s not, no!” Nightmare shrieked, pulling Horror into an increasingly tight grip and continuing to sob into his jacket. Everything became more surreal as Dust watched, listened, and felt their boss’s pain. Nightmare was the guardian, no, king of negativity and evil. He had killed so many people. He had destroyed his AU. He had imprisoned his brother in stone for 500 years. He had ended the lives of everyone he had ever known, including his own mother, but Dust was having a hard time seeing him as anything other than scared. Scared and lost. It made them rethink his title. It made them rethink all of their titles. Why were they considered “bad?” Yes, they were all criminals, but for good reasons. They looked at Nightmare again. They knew what he had done, the atrocities he had committed. They knew why he was called, well, Nightmare. But he was so much more than that. Dust knew what happened after he ate the apple, he had told them. He blacked out. The corruption completely took over and killed everyone, left the universe, and then killed anyone it saw. Nightmare came to in a MafiaTale, still as old as he was when the incident happened- seven years old. He was seventeen when he found Dust and recruited them to join him. Currently, he was twenty-one. Barely even old enough to drink. Although, liquor consumption laws had never stopped “The Bad Sanses.” Alcoholic drug addicts, every one of them.

The skeleton breaking down in front of them was not a bad person.

He was not a bad person.

Nightmare was a living being with thoughts and feelings. Fuck, people not realizing that is why he became Nightmare in the first place. Dust could see him change and adapt to his surroundings. When they were all in the castle, he became more light-hearted. He made jokes. He laughed. He lived. When they were out and about or on a mission, all that went away. He became cold, calculating. What he was expected to be, not who he was.

Nightmare took a deep, shaky breath, pushed away from Horror, and gave a small smile. “Thank you. I-” He paused. “I think I needed that.” He laughed quietly, his tiny grin growing ever so slightly.

“No problem,” Horror said. Nightmare opened a portal.

“Shall we?” he said, as though nothing had happened. Except… not quite like nothing had happened. Something had very much so happened and he was aware of that. It was like his shell was cracking. Dust was glad. They liked seeing him be himself. Not the king of negativity. Not a monster in every sense of the word. No, they liked Nightmare, their boss. Nightmare, their friend.

Just… Nightmare. That’s all.

yipeee

[renegade-diamonds]

I have this AU idea of Billy finding out about Robin's sexuality and blackmailing her into dating him for a bit.

She still works at Scoops Ahoy, but Steve is more hesitant to trust her knowing she used to 'date' Billy Hargrove. Max is the only one who really trusts her at first (and that's cause she would overhear Billy and Robin arguing all the time). Robin and Billy 'break-up' after Max discovers what Billy was doing and she threatens him into leaving Robin alone (let's say she has some dirt on him too).

Nancy's relationship with Jonathan isn't going that great at the time, and she slowly starts to come around to Robin since Max is always dragging her everywhere. Things escalate after flayed!Billy tries to target Robin, and El is able to intervene and save her before he manages to get her into his car. She becomes a part of the Upside Down stuff a lot sooner, and connects with Dustin and Steve during the whole Russian-base thing due to their shared immense dislike of Billy.

The bathroom scene goes a bit differently, and Robin comes out to Steve while explaining what Billy did and how she ended up 'dating him' for a few months. They talk about the trauma she went through, and how Max stepped in and defended her. It's a heart-warming moment, but with a heavy dose of angst.

Nancy, meanwhile, latches onto the first true friend she's had since Barb, and they start to hang out a lot after Jonathan and the Byers move away. Robin's terrified of the crush she's developing on Nancy, because the last time she had one- Billy found out by accident, and she's got some serious PTSD going on because of it.