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#the blade's edge
fittingxivsongs · 1 year
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submission from @grimAnalyst over on twitter
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shisasan · 6 months
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StormwindCity
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pancakeke · 20 days
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super dark photos but I have a thing to shill: plastic razor blades.
these things scrape soap scum off my shower in one go like they're wiping it away. they also remove those weird dry grease spots from the back of my stovetop like they're nothin. I didn't use any sort of cleaner first so soften that shit up either (though I used soap afterward to remove non-stuck on stuff).
the blades don't seem to scratch hard surfaces like tile or enamel, but they wear down with use. also I dropped the scraper once and broke the corner off a blade, but that was on me.
I would highly recommend a pack if you dont have the strength or energy to spend lots of time scrubbing surfaces with a bristle brush.
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undead-knick-knack · 2 months
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Ashton: I'm happy to know you and I'm looking forward at some point to getting punched by you, but I don't think this is the evening for it.
Laudna: My-- every bone in my body would break if I punched you.
Ashton: Oh, you've got powers.
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Quite the payoff 😂🖤💜
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The Double-edged Blade of Chance
Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade. 
Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight.
“Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”
"Why would I be a ghost?”
  
@deadonmayn Day 5: Soulmates | Pretend | Jason and Danny were childhood friends | "I never thought I'd see you again."
TW: Major Character Death, Child Neglect, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Drug Addiction, Depression
AO3 link
   Not everyone gets to meet their soulmate. It was just a fact of life. There was always a chance, though. Maybe it was small, but it was a chance. For those born with black ink scrawled across their wrists, it was a hope. A perfect match who could understand you on every level straight down to your atoms was waiting, and maybe you would meet them today! Or tomorrow. Or a year from now. Or… never.
   Sometimes, life is cruel. Sometimes, black letters burn and scar. Sometimes, your soulmate dies before you can ever meet them. Words on your wrist were a chance, but chance was a double-edged blade. 
   On average, most people didn't meet their soulmates until their twenties or thirties. Jason Todd was not most people.
   Jason quite literally runs into his soulmate at the young age of eight. Lungs burning and legs shaking with adrenaline, he sprints with his singular pilfered apple. He's not being chased, but it's better to create distance between him and the scene of his crime. If the past six months as a street kid has taught him anything, it's that caution is a virtue. Caution keeps you alive. 
   He falls back into muscle memory, allowing his feet to carry him through familiar shortcuts. Jason rounds another corner into a dirty back alley only to ram into something face first. There's a startled yelp and before he knows it Jason is horizontal. The only thing separating him from the ground is a scrawny torso. Jason's about to throw himself away from the poor schmuck when there's a burst of pain in his back. He rolls and lands on the asphalt with a pained groan.
  The other kid scrambles away from him with panicked, pale blue eyes. He looks the same age as Jason, skinny like a twig with a loose-fitting NASA shirt and unruly black hair. If Jason had seen him walking down the street, he would never have guessed he knew how to throw a punch. 
   The kid scans him up and down, suddenly embarrassed, “Sorry! I thought you were a ghost!”
   Jason is so busy nursing his kidney that he doesn't register the significance of the words. Instead, he snaps back with incredulity, “Why would I be a ghost?”
   The kid stares at Jason with wide eyes. His mouth opens and closes, gaping like a fish out of water. Whatever. Let him have his crisis, it's not Jason's problem. He dusts off his apple and stands to leave.
   "Wait!" 
   Jason yanks his sleeve back out of the other kid's grip, "Don't touch me!"
   "Sorry…" he shrinks back and the expression on his face is so heartbroken that Jason almost feels bad, "Please don't go!"
   Jason ignores him. He has things to do and places to be. Winter will be coming soon, and his abandoned apartment has very little in terms of blankets or jackets. A cold street kid is a dead street kid. 
   “Just-” the kid cuts in front of him. Jason stops short. Twig kid rolls up his sleeve, holding his wrist so close to Jason’s face that he couldn’t look away if he tried, “Look!”
   Jason freezes. His eyes scan over the words once, twice, and then a third time. 
   Why would I be a ghost?
   Jason can feel the scowl evaporate from his face, replaced by a softness he doesn’t know what to do with. Gently, ever so gently, he brushes over the words with his thumb. He doesn’t need to look at his own wrist to verify. Now that his head isn’t so far up his ass, the words the other boy uttered finally click and he knows that this is his soulmate.
   “My name is Danny!”
    Jason lifts his eyes to meet his soulmate’s. Danny’s grin is brighter than the sun itself. Something unfurls when he sees that smile. His lips tick upwards.
   “I’m Jason.”
   And so begins a beautiful friendship.
   Danny’s parents were… interesting to say the least. Jason had never met them himself, but he sure heard about them a lot. The two were self-proclaimed ghost hunters, and Mrs. Fenton was a trained martial artist. They had taught Danny from a young age to defend himself and instilled a fear of ghosts while they were at it, hence Jason being floored with a kidney punch.
   Other than that, the Fentons were hands-off. They didn’t pay much attention to Danny or his older sister, Jazz, so the two were mostly left to their own devices. Jazz couldn’t entertain Danny all the time, so he had taken to slipping out of the apartment to explore. 
   Jason may have been young, but even so, he had an inkling that the Fenton parents could have been doing a better job… well… parenting. Then again, it wasn't as if Jason had room to talk. Willis’ form of parenting had been more fists than words, painting out the rules of the house with black and blue bruises. Catherine had been good to Jason, even living under the smog of Willis Todd’s anger. She had taught Jason to cook (recipes he still knew by heart) and would read to him late into the night, fingers skimming old pages (Jason still carried the old, battered copy of The Little Prince with him, one of the few belongings he grabbed before fleeing CPS). Even under the drug-induced haze, his mom had tried her best. When she became too ill to do much of anything, Jason paid it forward as best he could. 
   There were some benefits to all of this. With the Fentons paying so little attention to anything outside of work, Danny could sneak supplies to Jason no problem! Suddenly issues like food or clean water were no longer as pressing, and Jason had a lot more free time. Naturally, he spent it with Danny. Jason taught Danny how to slip in and out of Gotham’s shadows unnoticed, and Danny taught Jason all of the things he learned in school. Danny would tell Jason stories written in the stars such as Orpheus’ lyre and Orion the hunter. In return, Jason would read his battered copy of The Little Prince to him under the trees in the park.
   Like all good things, it had to come to an end. 
   It happens a little over a year after their fateful meeting. Danny arrives at their spot dragging his feet, eyes watery. Jason abandons his book on the grass beside him in favor of rushing to meet his soulmate, who all but collapses sniffling into his arms. They sit in the shade of their tree, Jason running his hands through Danny’s hair as he cries into his dirty shirt.
   “What happened?” Jason asks once the other boy has calmed some.
   “We’re moving.”
   “What?”
   “Mom and Dad want to move someplace in Illinois. Something about ectoplasm readings. They said we’re moving out by the end of the month!”
    It feels like the ground drops from underneath Jason, nothing but a yawning chasm beneath his feet. Moving? To Illinois?
   The tears return to Danny’s eyes with a vengeance, “I don’t want to move! I don’t want to leave you!”
   Jason sets his jaw, tugging Danny back into a hug. He swallows the lump in his throat with false bravado. “It’ll be okay, Danny. You wanna know why?”
  Danny makes an inquisitive noise, wiping his face on his shirt as Jason pulls away. 
   Jason reaches for Danny’s hand, turning his palm up to the sky. He stretches his arm out next to Danny's, their soul marks brushing next to each other. 
  “We’re soulmates, Danny. The universe decided that we are two halves of a whole. Fate decreed that we are meant to be together,” Jason poured the conviction into his words, “We’re soulmates, and soulmates are magic. Even if you leave for weeks, months, or years, I know we will find each other again. We’ll be together someday.”
   Danny gawked at him, wide eyes a pantomime of when they first met. He stared at Jason, and then- 
   “You read too many books, Jason.”
   Jason rolled his eyes good-naturedly, shoving Danny into the grass. Danny giggled as Jason fell beside him with a huff. They stared up at the branches of the trees. The leaves swayed in the breeze. Jason follows them in captivating circles, his soulmate a soothing presence beside him.
   “You really mean it though?” Danny asks.
   “Mean what?”
   “That we’ll be together again?”
   “Of course,” Jason easily confirms.
   It’s the most sure Jason has been of anything in his life. 
   With Danny gone, there is no steady supply of food or blankets. Jason quickly finds himself reacquainted with hunger and desperation. After the third consecutive night of dumpster diving with no reward, he decides something has to change. Armed with a tire iron, Jason makes money the only way he can. 
   Six months after Danny leaves, Jason steals the tires from the batmobile. Batman found this more amusing than aggravating, and the next thing Jason knows, he’s stepping into the role of Robin. Jason! As Robin! Who would have thought?
   The new gig comes with some super awesome advanced tech. With all his work for Bruce, Jason figures it's only fair that he gets free reign with the batcomputer, or as Jason likes to call it, his best chance at finding Danny. 
   The batcomputer is one of the most advanced pieces of technology in the world. It's hooked up to satellites, has access to almost every database, and can run ID checks in seconds. Theoretically, there should be nothing stopping Jason from finding Danny. And yet…
    It's like he’s disappeared.
   All evidence of the Fenton family only dates to before their move. It doesn’t make any sense! There should be paper trails or social media posts or something! Anything! Jason searches for weeks but it’s as if Danny stopped existing as soon as he moved.
   Jason doesn’t give up. There has to be something he’s missing, one little thread poking out of the seams. A single tug is all it takes. He just has to find it. He keeps looking.
   He keeps looking for years. 
   He hangs on to hope.
   Jason is fourteen when his hope shatters.
   The night starts off normal. Jason dons the Robin suit and joins Bruce on patrol. They run through Gotham, stopping an arms deal and tying up a few muggers. Jason stops to take a breath, looking out over his city. 
   Jason loves this. He yearns for the whip of the wind in his face as he swings between gargoyles and fire escapes. He likes to help people, to defend others from the scumbags that think they rule the streets. Jason loves being Robin. Danny being here with him is the only thing that could make it better. That’s why Jason stays up high near the stars. It makes him feel closer to Danny, wherever he is.
   Burning pain makes Jason stumble in his steps. He clutches his wrist with gasping breath, wondering what he’s been hit with and when. Quickly, he removes his glove, throwing it to the floor.
   His stomach fills with icy cool dread.
   “No…” Jason mutters, eyes wide as saucers as the black ink on his wrist begins to fade, “No no no no no-”
   He digs his fingers hard into the words as if that will stop the color from leaching away.
   “No! Don’t do this! Please, Danny, don’t-” his voice cracks with a sob as the black becomes a pale grey, “NO!  You're stronger than this, you jerk! Don’t give up! Fight!”
   Bruce lands on the roof with him. He says something, but Jason isn’t paying attention. 
   “Don’t… don’t leave me, Danny. Don’t leave me alone.”
   Jason would normally never cry in front of Bruce, but he doesn’t care about Bruce right now.
   “You can’t leave yet! I’m supposed to find you! Do you hear me, you asshole?! You're not allowed to leave!” 
    The words are nothing but pale scars. It’s over. It’s done. The burning fades to a numb nothingness. Jason throws his head into his forearm and screams.
   Nothing will ever be the same.
   Bruce takes Jason home. He refuses to speak, not even to Alfred when the butler greets him with the offering of a hug. Jason walks right past his open arms to the bathroom and takes off his suit. Jason doesn’t feel like Robin right now. Jason doesn’t feel like anything.
   He showers just to be done with it, unfeeling of the ice-cold spray. Like a preprogrammed machine he runs through his routine.  Water. Shampoo. Soap. Rinse. Dry. Jason heads straight to his room when he’s done, not even bothering to brush his teeth. Burying himself under his bed covers, he cries until he passes out from exhaustion.
   It doesn’t get any easier. 
   Jason pushes the misery down and gets through the next day one step at a time. Days turn into weeks. Weeks turn into months. He goes to school, forcing himself to pay attention rather than sink into tempting numbness. Danny would have been so excited that Jason was in school. Danny would have wanted him to learn. 
   He comes home to Wayne Manor feeling, ironically, like a ghost. Alfred’s food tastes like chalk. Dick’s endeavors at movie nights and days out are about as tempting as swimming in the polluted harbor. He still joins Bruce as Robin, but he leaves the batcave feeling angry, hitting harder than he’s ever hit before. As if that will change anything. As if that will bring Danny back. 
   Sometimes, Jason draws over the scarred words on his wrist with a black marker. He pretends that Danny is still out there somewhere in bumfuck Illinois, waiting for him. It helps.
__________________
   Danny Fenton was unlucky. The very first sign was his workaholic parents with their conditional attention and lack of safety precautions, leading to his eventual early demise (Also known as sign one hundred and twenty-six, not that Danny was counting). Then there was the whole Oh Shit I’m a Ghost revelation quickly followed by the Oh Shit My Parents Want to End Me realization. Danny could only assume that he pissed off some ancient deity in a past life. 
   So yes, Danny was extremely unlucky, but he did have one thing going for him: Jason. 
   How many people got to meet their soulmate so early in life? Perhaps all of his luck had been invested in Jason. Jason with his vibrant blue eyes and dirty hair. Jason with the soft voice he used for Danny alone. Jason with his stubborn hold on childlike wonder despite being faced with the worst Gotham had to offer. 
   Danny may be unlucky, but Jason made him feel like the luckiest guy on Earth.
   He thought about Jason frequently. Idly tracing the words spread across his wrist, Danny would let his mind drift. Sometimes, he relived old memories. Other times he dreamed of their future together. 
    He imagined moving out of his parent's house and into one of his own. Jason would move in with him, warm and safe for once in his life. He’d be free to focus on learning like he so obviously wanted. Danny would go to work and Jason would go to school, but they would always come back together at the end of the day. Jason would pull out a book and Danny would curl against his side. Jason would get that adorable scowl on his face when something happened he didn’t like, and Danny would kiss it off of him with so much sweetness that Jason would forget what had annoyed him in the first place. 
   The honeyed kisses were a new addition to the fantasy, but not an unwelcome one. 
   Danny also thought about the present. He wondered what Jason was doing now. Was he still holed up in that awful abandoned apartment? Did he have warm enough clothes for the upcoming winter? Did he find enough food to last him the week? Did Jason feel Danny die? He must have been so scared…
   Moving away from Jason was the worst thing to ever happen to Danny, including the portal accident. Four states away, there wasn’t much he could do to help his soulmate, and he had no way to contact him, no way to check on him. His parents barely left the lab let alone the house, so a family trip to Gotham was out of the question. He had thought about flying there himself after the whole dying and becoming a halfa thing, but between the ghosts coming through the portal and his parents, he couldn’t leave Amity Park unprotected. 
   Danny thought he had a solution to the issue when he met Clockwork. While they may have started off on the wrong foot, these days the two were on better terms. Danny would even go so far as to call him a friend. Perhaps Clockwork would be willing to help a guy out and pause time for a bit. Only for a few hours! Just enough time for Danny to return to Gotham, find Jason, and establish some form of contact. Surely that wasn’t too tall of an order!
   Evidently, it was. Even after bargaining, pestering, and begging for what felt like hours (it could have been days or it could have been minutes, time was weird in Clockwork’s lair), Clockwork still refused. 
   Danny tried Nocturn next. It was more out of desperation than anything. His relationship with the ancient was still rocky, and he wasn’t expecting much to come from it. To his surprise, Nocturn agreed to help him but only once. Just one dream. Just one chance. 
   Danny is so excited he has trouble falling asleep. Eventually, he gives up and knocks back some melatonin. He’s willing to see the ceiling children if it means he also gets to see Jason. Danny closes his eyes.
   When he opens them, he is standing in a library. It’s fancy, fancier than Gotham’s library. The shelves are decorative polished wood and filled with books in better condition than any Danny has seen in one before. One wall is bare of any books or shelves. A stone fireplace with glass doors resides against it, exuding a comforting heat that makes Danny’s eyes droop even while asleep. The couches and chairs near the pit are so plush and pristine that Danny is certain this is a private library. No way would any public seating be this clean.
   It's all very nice, but not nearly as nice as the sight of the teenager residing on the furniture. The round baby fat that had shaped his face had begun to make way for a chiseled jaw. He's put on weight, no longer as gaunt as Danny remembers with more muscle. The skinny, starving kid Danny had known is no more.
   He's older now, almost unrecognizable, but that furrow in his brow as he reads and the slightly crooked nose gives him away. This is Jason. Danny's Jason. 
   "Jay!"
   Jason startles, dropping his book. He scrambles to his feet, tense as he stares uncomprehendingly at Danny. It hurts to not be recognized, but Danny understands. He looks different too.
   "...Danny?" 
   Danny can't find the words to respond so he settles for a smile, opening his arms in invitation. 
   Jason catapults into them. They clutch onto one another. The embrace is familiar but different, arms lankier than they used to be. Jason shakes like he’s crying. Danny thinks he might be too.
   Jason finally pulls away, hands running over Danny’s shoulders and arms,  "This… this isn't real. I'm dreaming."
   Danny laughs, "Well that depends on your definition of real. It may be a dream, but I'm still here."
   Jason’s hands raise to cup Danny’s face, "You died.”
   "Yeah,” Danny can’t help but lean into Jason’s palms, fingers rising to brush over his soulmate’s.
   "I don't care if it isn't real, I-" Jason swallowed. He closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against Danny’s, "Can we just… pretend it is?"
   "Of course, Jay."
   Jason plants a kiss on his forehead and drags him over to the couch. They collapse onto the cushions, Jason’s chest breaking Danny’s fall and strong arms wrapping around him.
   "I missed you," Danny says into his shirt.
   "Not as much as I missed you."
   "You look better. You look like you've been taking care of yourself."
   "Sometimes."
   "Only sometimes?"
   Jason laughs.
   For the next hour or so, Jason tells him about his life as Batman’s sidekick, Robin. Life in Wayne Manor has been beneficial for him. His smile is fuller and more carefree as he talks about his latest patrol than it ever was when he was living in the apartment. He seems happy in a way that Danny rarely saw.
   "I'm so proud of you, Jay."
   Jason doesn't say anything in reply, but he doesn't have to. His wet eyes are response enough. He's quiet for so long that Danny's convinced he's broken him. 
   Then Jason leans in, slowly, oh so slowly. Danny's heart flutters. He closes his eyes, tilting his head forward. He prepares himself to feel the press of lips against his own and then-
    His alarm goes off. 
    Danny's eyes fly open, surveying his room in frustration. He never got Jason's number. Fuck.
   There’s nothing to be done except to continue on with life. Between school and ghost fights Danny still finds time to pester Clockwork. It’s the same song and dance each time but Danny is nothing if not persistent. Occasionally, his attempts are rewarded with glimpses into his soulmate's life. Just little everyday things like Jason doing his homework or cooking with an older man in a suit. This of course led to Danny pushing for more, something like an actual conversation or contact information, all of which Clockwork refused to provide. It didn’t stop Danny from asking. 
   If Clockwork truly wanted Danny to stop then he shouldn’t have rewarded his behavior in the first place.
   It's not long after Nocturn’s favor that Danny finally wears the old cog down.
   “Come on, Clockwork! Please?” Danny whines, tugging on the ancient’s cloak, “I just want to talk to my soulmate!”
   Clockwork ignored him, peering through another screen.
    “It’s not like we haven’t already met! How could there possibly be any harm in us talking?”
   Clockwork stopped, considering. This had never happened before! Danny waited with bated breath.
   “I’ll let you see him-”
   Danny cheered, happily doing loop-de-loops in the air. 
   “I wasn’t finished,”
   Danny stopped cheering.
   “I’ll let you see him, but you can’t interfere.”
   “Interfere? Interfere with what?”
   Clockwork frowned, “Some things are destined to be. If I take you to him, you can’t stop what is about to happen. For better or worse. Are you sure this is what you want?”
   Danny stilled, considering. This didn’t sound like he was going to talk to Jason. It seemed like this would be a mere passive observance. It wasn't much different from watching Jason through Clockworks’s portals. Whatever. Danny would take what he could get.
   “I’m sure.” Anything to see Jason again.
   “I foresaw as such.”
   Danny barely has time (heh time) to register the sad look Clockwork shoots his way before he’s portaled out of the ghost’s lair. One blink he is staring at the gears and cogs in the walls, then next he is standing in a warehouse. Alone.
   “Clockwork?”
   There’s no response, so Danny investigates. It's hot. Hot enough that Danny feels like he is sweating despite his intangibility. The warehouse is filled with boxes upon boxes. As he wanders further in, he begins to hear signs of life. He peers between the crates.
   A few musclemen are unloading more crates to the floor. Someone out of sight sounds like they’re laughing. No not laughing. Full-blown manic cackling. That’s a villain's laugh if Danny has ever heard one.
   He peaks around the corner to get a better view and nearly reels back. That’s a clown. A fully dressed clown. Green hair, white face paint, and all.
   Danny hates clowns.
   “What? What’s going on here?”
   Jason!
   Danny looks over his shoulder in the direction of the footsteps.
   “Just step over here and you’ll understand everything, Robin.”
   A blonde woman rounds the corner, Robin, Jason, following close behind. They walk past Danny and right into the clown. 
   “What?!” Jason leaps between the woman and the gun lime-flavored Mr.Mime is aiming squarely at her chest, “But you said…”
   “I lied.” 
   The woman is aiming a gun at Jason’s head. Danny growls, but it goes unheard.
  “I can’t afford to have you stirring up trouble. I’ve been dipping into the medical funds myself. If you blow the whistle on the Joker, the investigation will certainly uncover my embezzling. Sorry about that, kid. Looks like you picked the wrong person to trust. ”
   “Clockwork,” Danny asks the open air, “what is this?”
   Jason is surrounded but his eyes are solely focused on the woman. He looks devastated.
   “What should we do with him?” the woman asks the clown. 
   “Something I’ve wanted to do for years,” The clown lets out another one of those awful cackles. 
   Danny doesn’t think it would be possible to hate this guy more than he already does, but then he pistol whips his soulmate across the chest hard enough that he hits the ground.
   Jason gets up again. He’s always been tenacious, Danny thinks as he watches him punch the clown in the gut. He feels a glimmer of satisfaction. Jason will be okay. He’s giving the newest additions to Danny’s shitlist a solid beat down, and Danny gets a front-row seat.
   But then one of the gym bros knocks Jason to the floor again. He follows it up with a kick to the ribs. Jason lies there heaving, and suddenly Danny isn’t so certain anymore.
   The clown approaches him, dragging a crowbar against the concrete with a harsh scraping sound.
   “This is going to hurt you a lot more than it does me.”
   Danny tries to rush forward. He wants to tear that crowbar out of the clown’s hand and hit him so hard that he loses his teeth. He wants to grab Jason by the collar of that stupid outfit and fly him far away to safety. Danny wants to, but he can’t. His feet are rooted to the ground. His arms refuse to lift from his sides. His head won’t swivel on his neck. Danny can’t even switch off his invisibility. All he can do is blink as the crowbar careens into Jason’s ribs.
   “You can’t interfere, Daniel.”
   “Clockwork,” Danny grits out, quiet and desperate, “Clockwork, please.”
   He feels a hand squeeze his shoulder, “All is as it should be.”
   No no no no no no no no no no no no no-
   Danny isn’t sure how long he’s there, frozen uselessly in place as the maniac clown brings the crowbar down on Jason’s body over and over and over again. Eventually, he seems to get bored and decides to leave Jason to the mercy of a bomb. With a grand flourish to the ever-so-helpful timer, he leaves Jason bleeding on the floor. That woman is there too, but Danny doesn’t care about her. 
   Finally, Danny can move. He collapses next to Jason, cradling his beaten face in his hands and murmuring nonsensical platitudes. Jason’s breath wheezes shallowly, unseeing gaze fixed far away. 
   The clock ticks down. 
   Jason doesn’t make it to six minutes. 
   Danny chokes back a sob as the words on his wrist burn. With utmost care, he brushes Jason’s eyelids shut. Danny presses a kiss to his forehead. It still feels warm against his own ice-cold lips. Taking Jason’s limp hand in his own he leans back. He waits. He hopes. 
   He doesn’t have to wait long. 
   Danny almost thinks that Jason’s- no, the body’s eyes have opened once more. The color gives him pause though. Vivid green eyes like his own blink open in place of blue. A pale, wispy figure sits up, legs remaining within the corpse as if superimposed. The domino mask that had covered his face has been replaced by what looks like permanent grease paint. The Robin uniform is a mess even in death. The holes and tears have carried over, but thankfully it's no longer bloodstained. Jason’s wounds are all but gone except for a single glowing ectoplasmic scar running from his hairline down to his cheek.
   The newly formed ghost’s chest heaves in a mimicry of desperate breathing. Danny remembers it from when he first died. He had also panicked at the lack of oxygen in his lungs. It's hard to break such an ingrained instinct. 
   Danny feels his soul mark tingle, and though he doesn't look away from his soulmate he can see the green glow of the words in the corner of his eye. 
   “Jason?” Danny drops the corpse’s hand in favor of reaching for Jason’s.
   Jason’s eyes whip around wildly, landing on Danny. His chest slows to a stop, “Danny?”
   “Yeah, Jay,” Danny lets out a broken laugh, tears pooling in his eyes, “It’s me.”
   “Danny!” Jason lunges for him wrapping his arms around his waist, “I never thought I’d see you again,” he choked out, voice watery with emotion.
  Danny clutches him back, gloved fingers curling into the fabric of his cape, “I wish it were under better circumstances. I’m sorry, Jason,” Danny sniffs, tears soaking into the fabric of Jason’s shoulder, “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”
   “It’s okay! Well, not really,” They pull back to look at each other. Jason tucks a strand of hair behind Danny’s ear, fingers lingering to trace his jaw, “but I get to see your pretty face again so I can’t complain.”
   Danny flushes green but still manages to level Jason with a look, “That’s stupid and you know it! You have every right to complain you just-” 
   Danny cuts himself off with a small, distressed noise. Danny has died before. He knows what it’s like. And now Jason has too. They both know. There are no words.
   “Yeah…” Jason trails off, eyes lingering on his body, “Yeah. But you're here, right? You found me!"
   Danny smiles, cupping his soulmate's face in both hands, “Always,” he presses a chaste kiss to Jason’s lips. Even after it ends their foreheads remain touching. 
   “I missed you,” the grin Jason gives him could only be described as dopey.
   “Not as much as I missed you,” he teases back.
   Jason pulls him into another hug. They hold one another until their tears finally dry up. It reminds Danny of the good old days, running rampant through Gotham’s streets and finding solace from everything awful in each other. 
  Suddenly Jason starts to giggle. Danny doesn’t know why but his joy is contagious and soon Danny is snickering alongside him.
   “Why are you laughing?” Danny asks between unneeded breaths.
   Jason slips his tattered glove off, displaying his soulmark with a wiry grin, “I just realized I’m a ghost!” Jason giggles again, “And so are you!”
    “Why would I be a ghost?” Danny deadpans, which only causes Jason to laugh harder.
   Danny glances at the clock. One minute. “We should leave.”
   Jason nods, standing up before Danny can even move and offering his hand. Danny takes it, rising to his feet. Their fingers remain linked together as they phase through the wall of the warehouse. They turn to watch it blow with a sense of finality. The flames licking the sky feel like an end, but also a new beginning. 
   Danny turns away from the ruins and focuses. His fingers sharpen and tear through the fabric of reality, opening a swirling green portal into the Infinite Realms. 
   He holds the portal open with one hand, extending the other back out for Jason to take, “Together?”
   “Together,” Jason’s fingers clasp his own.
   This time, they don’t have to pretend. 
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sensitiveheartless · 7 months
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Perhaps the real soup was the carrots we mangled along the way
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preseriesdean · 1 year
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Well, at least he’s not curled up under the sink. — Yeah, no, he’s just sitting there silently field-stripping his weapon.
7.02, “HELLO, CRUEL WORLD”
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devileaterjaek · 1 month
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Soul Edge (AKA Soul Blade) (PSX) //Discord// //Twitch// //Ko-Fi//
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im-sixx-sixx-sixx · 2 months
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❤️‍🔥Tommy❤️‍🔥
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quixot1sm · 4 months
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hilbert and hilda's baby brother, colress's naive apprentice, interpol's little tool, what can't this guy be! well-adjusted, apparently.
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mashamorevvna · 10 months
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my one desire for a gortash romance, should it ever happen, is to have the chance to bring him to the party with the companions as your plus one with the tacit implication that they all hate him so much (with the exclusion of minthara who goes thats a good solid lad, he would do numbers in menzoberranzan).
the companions would all grumble and sideye gortash while hes just chilling in that frustration-inducing way persian cats chill when they know they are the pretty little princess of the house bc he KNOWS hes going home and fucking durge nasty and freaky any day of the week
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maroonmused · 5 months
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me and the marvel’s midnight suns writers in a who loves peter parker more competition,, i might have to tap out
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purplysugary · 9 months
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for chapter 500!! loved the north sea arc too. keep being a badass.
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undead-knick-knack · 2 months
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Color them impressed 🥰🖤💜
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azu1as · 4 months
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dumb rotmhs fanfic idea where chung myung doesn't reincarnate and instead turns into a lost ghost on mount hua.
that is, until his spirit stumbles into yu iseol chasing after their lost plum blossoms technique that he begins to slowly regain his memories.
Got inspired by @dew-in-the-morning's tweet here!! You can also read the original fic thread :DD
»—————————–✄
yu iseol doesn't know who the one-armed stranger was. she had opted to ignore him when she first noticed his presence in the far distance upon arrival at the clearing. but he'd been observing her for almost two hours now, and it seemed as if he had no intentions to leave at all.
"come out." she tells the one-armed man, but frustratingly receives no response at all.
she makes a move towards him but he disappears within a blink.
a part of yu iseol becomes unsettled, but she decides to brush it off as nothing more than a one-off encounter.
she's quickly proven wrong.
the following night, she once again finds him in the same spot, facing her direction. it continues that way the next night until the next week. the man is consistently there and always leaves whenever yu iseol outwardly acknowledges his presence.
after almost two weeks of this occurring, yu iseol decides to stare just as intently at the man as he did at her sword.
she doesn't often feel conscious about how others perceived her, but something about the way the man's eyes visibly narrows when she swings or stabs her sword makes her every move feel like they were being scrutinized and dissected.
and that her results were unsatisfactory if the random clucks and tsks she hears off to the side whenever she overextends her swings were any indication.
the man's robes were clearly from mount hua. but she quickly realizes that what she initially thought were shadows on his garbs were actually dark blood stains.
then a sense of uneasiness washes over her when she notices that she could see the edges of a tree through him.
it seems that her nightly companion was some sort of supernatural entity.
she doesn't feel any true fear though because no amount of malice or resentment was ever turned her direction since she began seeing the man.
"who are you?" yu iseol finally asks.
but, as expected, the man disappears and she's left alone in the clearing.
%%%
"are there ghosts on mount hua?" yu iseol asks the sect leader much to his bemusement.
"perhaps." he replies to her after a beat passes. "what brought this on?"
yu iseol silently huffs at the admittedly lackluster reply, but responds politely, "i just saw something."
before she could turn away, the sect leader hums pensively and gently adds,
"maybe what you saw was the ghost of an ancestor watching over you."
clearly, it was intended to be an acknowledgement of her nightly sword training and visible efforts towards attaining mount hua's swordsmanship.
yu iseol, however, took the message quite differently.
that night, yu iseol lets out a breath and lowers her sword as she once again catches sight of the semi-translucent man observing her from behind a tree.
her attention zooms in on the bloodied embroidery of a plum blossom on his chest and the sword sheath strapped to his waist.
she steels herself as her eyes locks onto sharp, pink ones. she was certain that whoever this man had been, he was a strong swordsman with the way he held himself even in death.
and if the way he attentively observed her sword training was a potential indication....
"excuse me," yu iseol begins, fists clenched, "do you know how to make plum blossoms bloom?"
there was a long pause between them. for a moment, yu iseol worried that she was mistaken and that the spirit of this ancestor would disappear as he usually did.
but then the one-armed man steps forward for the first time into the clearing and replies by unsheathing his sword.
it glints against the moonlight despite its translucency and yu iseol knows that she couldn't miss the next moments no matter what.
the ghost of her ancestor holds it aloft in the air for a brief moment. And then he swings his sword into an arc.
in yu iseol's chest, the uncertain flicker of hope ignites into an unstoppable wildfire.
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danthepest · 7 months
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Voldo through the ages. The one constant of the Soul series. The undisputed S&M king. The true sex symbol of gaming.
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