It's been a while since Colress has paid his hometown a visit. Not since his time leading Team Plasma, if his memory serves him right.
The subway from Castelia to Nimbasa was easier than calling a cab or parking the Frigate closer. Arceus knows he'd rather not have that license taken away too. He could at least pretend to be a law abiding citizen.
Beheeyem hovers close behind as he steps off the train. His eyes narrow as he examines the subway. Has he even been inside the Battle Subway since it was created? He was always more of a PWT guy..
"Prism, can you tell if the route to the exit is the same as when we went on our gym challenge?" He tilts his head to face the alien.
The station had the usual chatter, the distinct scent of the trains and machinery, as well as the crackles of energy from the lively Joltiks hanging around from their electric webs all the way up. The depot agents in green were chatting in the corner, laughing over a joke and living in their own world for the moment. Their boss in white, however, had noticed the new face* among the crowd, well, not that Emmet could "see" faces, but the futuristic hairstyle got his attention.
As the interesting passenger left the train and an even more interesting conversation started taking place, Emmet marched to their stop, arms swinging wide as he made his way.
"I am Emmet!" he announced, abruptly stopping before the duo, the booming voice easily heard despite the crowd, "And that's a question I can help with, young passenger! We make constant improvements for accessibility and due to intense battles forcing our hand, so the route may be verrrry slightly different than the last time you have been here!"
Wasn't this man a little too young to be reminiscing about his gym challenge already? Not that Emmet could tell, with the permanent smile masking the unpleasant past that forbid him from pursuing any normal "milestones" others took for granted.
"Would you allow me to transport you to your destination? I have no challengers at the moment. I am free to serve you." If this man had been to station in recent years, wouldn't Emmet remember the hairstyle? It was... familiar, but not the "I beat this passenger and made them cry" kind. More like a dread, a slow poison setting cold horror, injected straight to his heart. What a strange reaction... And quite the impression.
-Season 6 of Dragon Prince
-Season 2B of Ninjago Dragons rising
-The Mutant Mayhem series
-Anything from ROTTMNT
-The book of Bill
-The next episode of Kaiju no. 8
-The next volume of Clock Striker
-The next Misfit Mansion book
-Hazbin Hotel season 2
-Murder Drones episode 8 (and possibly season 2)
-Spider man: beyond the spider verse part 2
-The next Welcome home update
-the next TADC episode
-the next helluva boss episode
- went to good Friday evening service even tho it's not a day of obligation, didn't go yesterday evening to Maundy Thursday for a variety of reasons
- priest manages to fit homophobia and transphobia into his sermon. Not even gay marriage. Just unions, that let ppl share taxes and have hospital visiting rights. And big bad scary surgery. Like. Completely unrelated to the matter at hand. Says SO LITTLE abt the Passion, managed to talk for 10 minutes without really saying ANYTHING. Takes Pilate's 'what is truth' and instead of engaging in the long philosophical and theological discussion around that question, decides to use it as a rallying cry against wokeism and a godless progressive society.
- my two ex best friends were there. Ran into them. + One's husband, who I introduced her to a decade ago. Like I'm mostly over that, no longer shitty and resentful, fully know that it was partially my fault and born from my own terribleness at 19 and undiagnosed untreated mental illness. Still uhhh hurts tho??? As a reminder?
- music bad. Ok I'm petty. I'll give the trads (1) point. I don't like guitar mass. I will NOT agree with the trads in assigning moral weight to my aesthetic preference. It's simply a preference, which does not make any musical form inherently superior to the others. But the triduum really lends itself to Latin hymns and chants, in my heart. My other fave church music is traditional Black spirituals. I would greatly prefer either. But just. If it sounds like an acoustic version of a pop love song. I just. I can't. I KNOW I'm the weird about Jesus romantically girlie. But I am not vibin with this folks
Literally would have simply Walked Out. Hit da bricks during the homily. But was with my family so 1) cannot out myself 2) did not have house keys on me, so I was suck regardless
Anyway I said I wasn't going to do fun things today but I'm so upset and cranky and I did chores all day, I am going to catch up on dungeon meshi. Marcille is my best favourite cringefail girl I'm obsessed with her and surely the wlw neurotic fussy mage who loves her friends will not betray me like this
I've always wanted to write one shots and stuff, so here's the fandoms I'll write about:
Welcome Home: Wally Darling, Howdy Pillar, Eddie Dear, Sally Starlight (is that her last name?), Julie Joyful, Frank Frankly, Barnaby B. Beagle, and Poppy (Idk her last name😭) I will also do other aus like opposite Wally for example.
Fnaf (both movie and original): Afton Family (Platonically for the kids), the animatronics (I am not typing them all🥲)
the friendliest neighborhood spiderman, swinging on his webs to...help you save on a can on beans?
yea okay its silly, Lemme have fun with this! I personally think he would make a GREAT spiderman, idk who he's fighting or what powers he gets other than the Spidey sense, but he looks cute in the suit!...
The only issues is he tends to get stuck on the ceiling.
Fastest Growing Fandoms on AO3 This Week (06/06/2023)
Every week I pull data on how many fics are in each fandom and compare to the previous week, then calculate the percentage increase to determine fastest growing fandoms. Since this naturally skews towards smaller fandoms, I have included the same data filtered to Over 1k, 5k, & 10k fics.
Okay, so Talia was still out there somewhere, and she'd left a few League assassins to cause havoc, and even if the Court's new leader hadn't gotten out of there before the explosion they'd pick a new one within a few days at most and start making new Talons again, but the shadow-war in Gotham was over. The Pit that had lurked beneath the city was destroyed. And Bruce…
Dick looked back at the bed beside his chair, staring at the unconscious man it held.
Bruce was alive.
He could feel the tears starting again as he just stared at his father guardian, still barely able to believe he'd pulled it off. It had been stupid, to think Bruce would just run because Dick had told him to, even with the wounds Talia had given him. Dick certainly wouldn't have just abandoned Bruce down there, had the situations been reversed. But to try a goddamned suicide attack with the Batwing…Dick hadn't seen that coming. He'd been too focused on Talia, on the sudden appearance of the Court and its Talons, so when the wrecked jet had started up he'd been just as shocked as anyone else.
Time had stood still, then. For the briefest instant Dick had thought Bruce would simply fire something at the Pit, destroy the damned thing so there wouldn't be anything left to fight over, but no. No, he'd gone for scorched earth, and Dick had panicked. He couldn't lose Bruce again, hadn't been able to stomach the thought of leaving that cave and having to tell the others that Bruce had been there, been alive…and then had died again. For the briefest of moments, Dick was nine years old again, watching his parents as the rope snapped. Alone. Helpless.
Except he wasn't. His parents, Jason, Bruce…all people Dick had lost because he hadn't been there, hadn't been able to do anything. But he had a second chance now. He could do something. He could at least try. And so he did.
Dragging Bruce out of the Batwing had been a blur. There hadn't been time to do more than grab the jet's onboard medical kit as he'd just thrown Bruce over his shoulder and ran, only daring to stop once the explosion's echoes had faded away. Then had come the chill of panic, packing the wounds to stop the bleeding and praying with everything he had that it was enough, that he wasn't too late. Dick had barely paid attention to his own injuries, being far too focused on keeping Bruce alive to even feel them at that point.
Then had come the desperate call for the drone, the race to get Bruce back to the Belfry, the terror of forcing himself to stay out of the way and being unable to do anything but wait as Alfred had properly closed those wounds. They'd all been wrecks at that point, though Dick remembered Jason making a point of having a strong pot of Alfred's favorite tea ready for the man once the operation was over.
And then? Then it was just waiting. And hoping. And praying that Bruce actually would wake up again. That they wouldn't have to bury their father leader twice. They'd been taking shifts at Bruce's bedside, one at a time, to make sure someone was always there without letting Gotham's newfound stability wobble too much. Tonight it was Dick's turn. A cup of coffee sat half-forgotten on the table by the bed as he just watched Bruce sleep. It had been…what, three days now? Surely he'd wake soon…he was still breathing, so he'd definitely wake up…
Here’s a little idea that was in my head for a short while— a little au.. a lil spider-puppet au, probably because i love Welcome Home and ATSV! I’m far too shy to tell you my lil ideas for this au buut what i can tell you is that he works in a daycare with Poppy! Soo.. yeee :D”