I wrote angst in English today because we were talking about juxtaposition, and my brain just went into over drive. Which hasn't happened in a while....

Anyway here ya go!

Tw. Light mentions of a burial

I was happy with my brothers. A mansion filled with laughter and joy. Our voices echoed off the walls, and our feet bounced across the floors. We knew we would be forever. And this brought us warmth.

…

Standing by a hole in the ground, watching as a dark oak box was being lowered into the ground in front of a cold, gray stone. One brother was dead, his name forever engraved in stone, and the other was missing from the face of the earth. I feel empty. There is no joy or peace. There is only cold darkness, a void of all emotions. As dark as the night we were meant to protect. 

Feel free to ask me!

You know, an interesting tumblr transformation that's happened gradually, and which I've seen no one talk about: ask-culture has essentially dropped off to nothing.

By which I mean, asks used to be WAY more of the tumblr economy. They used to be more common to send, and receive, and see. They were integral to the collaborative, forum-like behavior of old tumblr communities, not even to speak on the HUGE number of ask-blogs that used to exist to only be interacted with in ask-form.

I'm not saying this in a vying-for-attention way but instead in an observational way: I used to get way way more asks in like 2015, even with a fraction of my follower count. I wonder if it's due to the homogenization of social media sites? There's a lot more of this divide between "content creator" and "consumer" instead of just a bunch of peer blogs who would talk to each other. "Asks" aren't really a thing on twitter, are they? And as I understand it, the closest thing to an "ask" on instagram or tiktok would be a creator screenshotting some comment and responding to it in a new reel or video or whatever those content mediums are. Are asks just too tumblr-specific? Is that aspect of the site culture dying out as more and more people converge to using all their social media sites in the same way?

Could never not be real

I feel like making people cry. I drew this last night when I had a spurt of the ability to draw. At first, I was just drawing Ghost's mask from memory, and it turned into this. Sorry for any inaccuracies, I'm not a good artist.

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK AS YOURS. PLEASE CREDIT ME IF YOU DO REPOST OR SHARE.

*evil laughter*

Hi!!! Do you take requests:)

Yeah, I absolutely can take requests! Just be mindful of any triggers and specify them, and the Fandom. I will not do anything smut related, or minor characters being shipped.

Forgotten Batsibling Pt2!!

Y/N: Your name

H/N: Hero Name

F/C: Favorite color

TW. Sad stuff, guilt, self-blame.

It’s been a month since Y/N died. After the flames were doused, the fire department and the police scoured the building looking for the body of the fallen hero. The only thing they found of the lost hero was the mask. There was no body left to be found, no remains, no ashes. The warehouse fire consumed all of them. The mask stays inside of the case which once held their suit, now empty. A memoir to the house without you, empty.

Bruce has tried his best to be strong, to be the hero that Gotham needs. But he can’t help but spend hours looking at the mask with regret and guilt. Regret for letting you go in to save Jason, and guilt for not realizing that the savior needed to be saved. Guilt for letting another child die. 

Damian has refused to even enter the Batcave. All he sees is a constant reminder of the sibling he once had, the person who would go to the moon and back for all of them, now gone. He swears he can still hear your voice calling his name from downstairs, and he can’t help the tears that spring to his eyes when he thinks about you. 

Your room hasn’t been touched since their death, the door shut and locked up. No one has ever been able to look at the room, their guilt or sadness overpowering their will to do so. 

Dick constantly wishes for just one more patrol with you, to hear your voice one more time. He regrets every moment he tried to get away from you, or left you behind. He glances behind him, hoping that you’ll be right there, just like you usually would despite his attempts to shake you off. 

Tim has noticed now when his coffee runs out and tastes different than usual. Whenever he’s on a mission, he notices that his success percentage is lower than normal. There is no one there to jump in when a step goes in the bin. No one waiting to check on him after a mission. He’s finally noticed and acknowledged the fact that you’re gone. And he’s shut down any emotions that come with it. He is probably the only one in the family who could open your bedroom door, but he can’t bring himself to do it because he feels he isn’t worthy to do so. 

Now Jason on the other hand, can’t pull himself out of his work. He feels he can’t take off the mask because if he does, he’s afraid he’ll crumble and fall apart. He keeps telling himself to stay strong, and to stay Red Hood because right now, the people of Gotham don’t need Jason, they need you. They need H/N. As soon as Jason takes off the mask when he gets to one of his safe houses, he instantly breaks down. All he can see is the moment he knocked you down, and caused your demise. The last thing he saw of you was you holding the beam up for him to escape. He swears he can feel you watching over him, even though he caused your death. All he can think is that he’s the reason you're dead. He killed you, the only person who ever seemed to care, even when he had tried to hurt you. 

You didn’t get the proper funeral that everyone felt you deserved. The people of Gotham mourned for days, the Commissioner and the Mayor themselves speaking at your funeral. Funny enough, even the Joker took the day off despite the clear opportunity he had to go and create utter chaos. There was no body to bury. The city lowered an empty casket into the ground, and then erected a statue of you over it. A memory forever ingrained into the people of Gotham’s minds of the hero who once lived to save the city. 

Of course, Bruce had to figure out how to tell the press that Y/N Wayne was gone, without revealing the fact that you were H/N. They managed to make up a story of you falling seriously ill, and succumbing to it. They played it off to the media as having a private funeral and having the body buried in their graveyard. Y/N was buried beside what was Jason’s grave, an F/C flower sprouting from the dirt over the empty casket. The gray headstone reading:

“Here lies Y/N. A sibling, friend, and a loving person. May their memory live on. 20XX-20XX”

Now, for the super short scenario.

Damian stood at the grave, looking down at the gray stone. Tears stung his eyes, rolling down his face, but he didn’t care. The rain hid them anyway. He stood soaked and cold, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t feel it anyway. The cold rain continued to pelt his body, leaving him soaked to the bone. His eyes fall to the F/C flower, its petals still bright. All he could think about was the fact that there was nobody under his feet. All that was there was an empty box covered in a layer of soaked dirt. He couldn’t help the sob that escaped his throat at the thought of never seeing you again. The last he saw of you was you running into the building to save Jason, a brave face filled with worry plastered onto your face. He couldn’t help but blame Jason slightly, but he knew that you went in fully knowing the risks of what you were doing. As he stared at the grave, he couldn’t help but feel like someone was watching him. Something was telling him, he needed to go back to Robin. The people needed Robin. He wiped his eyes, standing up straighter before turning and heading back for the manor, determined to prevent another family member from dying. Little did he know, after he had left the grave, a figure stood over the grave, reading the stone. Their shoulders rose and fell with a laugh before the figure disappeared into the rain. All that remained was a crumpled F/C flower, the petals littering the ground.

UMMMM, HELLO?!?

WHEN DID I BECOME MUTUALS WITH YOU?!! ALSO, I LOVE YOUR WRITTING! AND I JUST...JAIFHRIRJDH

welcome to the show of never ending surprises.

@1970sgothfreak

Batboys with a sister who was cheated on. This is slightly rushed and comes from the confines of my brain, and you can blame my sister's playlist for this. User is between Tim and Damian in age. (~17-18 years old)

T.W: Mentions of cheating, Jason being Jason, Damian being a sweet child, brief mentions of violence (not abuse), swearing.

Dick is instantly by your side when you come home from your "date". He notices your red eyes, which you thought you had managed to hide, and envelopes you in a hug. Jason walks in sees this, and is instantly in protective mode. He walks over, placing a grounding hand on your shoulder as he asks what's wrong. He already knows it was your douche of a boyfriend, but he wants to hear it from you. Once it's confirmed it was your now ex who cheated on you, Jason and Dick are instantly on the way to ruin his day, and possibly his life for hurting their baby sister. Tim has already gotten him fired, has updated all his social media with proof of his cheating, and updated his status to "A cheating bastard". He's also drained any semblance of money from his bank account. Tim and Jason are ultimately the ones who are let out because they are the most comfortable with burying a body. (Which Alfred doesn't let happen) Dick and Damian are left home to comfort you. Dick has you wrapped in a warm blanket, and Damian is resting against you, which is an extremely rare sign of affection from him. You end up watching your favorite TV show or movie until you end up falling asleep. Dick carries you to your bedroom while Damian stays with you, muttering curses in Arabic under his breath at the man you had trusted so closely. As Dick leaves you in your room, Damian refuses to leave your side, not wanting you to feel abandoned by your family after you had already been betrayed by the ass of an ex.

The next day you completely forget about him as Bruce takes you out for a day to yourself after hearing about the situation. Needless to say, you never heard from or saw your ex ever again.

(Sorry it was rushed, it's different than I had in my head. Let me know if you want me to go down the original route I had in mind)

Well, that threw me for a loop.

Well, that’s enough internet for me today.

Batfamily with a Semi-forgotten sibling user

User is younger than Jason and Dick, but older than Tim and Damian.

Warnings: User death at the end, semi-graphic, not too bad, angst, bby Damian (Platonic). No fluff.

No gendered pronouns, only 'you'.

User is always swooping in to save everyone. Damian and Bruce seem to be the only ones who truly take notice.

Bruce swears he has a mini heart attack every time you crash through a window to save him when he's surrounded and clearly outnumbered. He gives you an angry (concerned) lecture when you get back to the cave about risking yourself. You continue to do so, and yet he still manages to scold you in new ways every time. He just can't bear the thought of losing another child.

Damian at first ignores you every time you come in to help. But slowly over time as you take care of him, and make sure he's taking care of his things, he slowly lets himself get attached to you as a sibling. He doesn't mind your help from time to time and definitely doesn't complain when there's a new reason to just hang out with his older sibling.

When Damian first came to Gotham, during his first winter he got slightly sick, which is really rare, and he was stuck in bed on Alfred's orders. So while Alfred was stuck tending to the others, you came in to make sure that he had eaten and was well-rested enough before you and him had fun playing games.

Now, the other boys however, don't notice you as much.

Tim gets too absorbed in work to notice when you bring him another cup of coffee or organize his files in a way that makes sense. On the field, he doesn't even recognize you as an asset. You often play support, standing on a nearby roof while you wait anxiously to hear if your father and brothers are alright. Most of the time, Tim doesn't even think you could change the outcome in his plan. Even when you come in to help, he blames it all on his "perfect" planning skills, and ignores your presence altogether.

Jason doesn't like you at all. He finds you to be a useless younger sibling. He makes sure that any time you try to interact with him, he shuts you down in the coldest, harshest way he can to make sure you stay away. There have been times when he's gotten aggressive with you on patrols together. Pushing you close to roof edges, threatening you. Of course, Bruce never lets this happen.

Dick, however, just ignores you or finds excuses to get away from you. He doesn't even really think of you as a sibling, more like an annoying stray that was brought in. He constantly uses his acrobatic skills to avoid you. If you're ever on patrols together, he finds ways to leave you alone, often going off on his own. Bruce constantly gets mad at Dick for this, trying to explain to him that you are his younger sibling, and you should not be left alone in Gotham, especially when the Joker is at large.

Now, onto the scenario.

You've been looking for Jason. All the civilians are out of the building, and so is your family, but Jason is missing.

Where is he?

You look back at the building, plumes of smoke still billowing up toward the sky. He's still in there. Your legs are moving before anyone can stop you. You hear Bruce call your hero name, but you're already rushing into the building.

"Red Hood!" You shout, scanning the building with your eyes as you run through the empty factory. You stop in front of a fallen beam, blackened from the flames that were now doused. You look over it, seeing Jason with a small child in his arms. In a rush of adrenaline, you crouch under the beam, lifting the probably 250 pound wooden beam above your head.

"Come on!" You shout to Jason, urging him to run. As he passes you, his shoulder bumps your arm. You lose your grip on the beam, falling backward. Time seemed to slow down as you landed on the ground, watching the beam succumb to gravity. As the beam crushed your legs, other parts of the building collapsed, covering up your blood-curdling scream. Fire licked at the roof of the warehouse, covering multiple other surfaces. Your eyes burned with tears, your lungs filling with smoke. As you stared up at the roof, you realized that Bruce was right. You weren't going to get out of this alive. As you saw the night sky, you saw some stars twinkling between the flames. A smile graced your face as you realized that you too, would soon join the stars, and you would always watch over your family.

Outside

Jason came barreling out of the building, the child clutched to his chest. The girl's parents came rushing over to take her from his arms. As Jason approached the others, Damian seemed to keep looking behind Jason, waiting for something to happen, or for someone to return.

"Jason, are you alright?" Bruce asks frantically, quickly approaching and scanning him over. Jason waves him off scoffing in an annoyed manner. But truly, he was a little happy that he was still cared for. Damian stood by Jason, looking out onto the burning building. His expression is serious, but his eyes hold a hidden worry. He shakes his head, turning to Jason.

"Where is Y/N?" Jason's eyes widen as he looks back at the building, his mind replaying his last moments with them. He bumped into them as they were holding up a huge beam. As he realizes his mistake, the building crumbles, ash and sparks flying into the night sky. Damian's face goes white, fear and panic coating his face as he stares at the flaming building. Tears streak down his face silently, as his body realizes, you're gone. Bruce's face darkens, his eyes going dark as he realizes he's failed to protect another child. He rests his hand on Damian's shoulder, silently telling him he can't go in to save them. Dick and Tim stared at the building, their faces numb. Dick turned out of guilt, his whole body sinking in defeat as he realizes what he's done to you. Tim can't seem to comprehend your gone.

"They'll come back later. They always do." Tim says, his voice unknowingly shaky as he watches the flames consume the building. Damian sinks to his knees, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobs. Bruce helps him stand back up, and orders everyone to return to the cave.

"No, we can bring them back. We can use a Lazarus pit and bring them back!" Damian tries to reason, trying to look back at the building.

"No Damian. They're gone. Their body is too damaged to bring back, and I'll be damned if I have to force another child back here."

Jason can only stare at the building as he realizes.

"If I hadn't bumped into them, they would be standing right beside me, like they usually do." Guilt fills his body as he realizes, he's the reason they're now gone.

Here is the post!! It tried to make it gender neutral!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

T.W: MENTIONS OF BLOOD, VIOLENCE, MENTIONS OF TORTURE, SLIGHTLY OC GHOST, DEATH

Y/N: Your name

C/S: Callsign

We don't die, just ends with us passing out.

I slowly open my eyes, allowing my vision to adjust to the light. I blink a couple of times, trying to clear the fuzz in both my eyes and my head. I looked around and found that I was in an empty warehouse, one fluorescent light above me. I move my wrists around, finding them tied together. The wooden chair creaked as I wiggled my legs, finding them bound to the chair legs. I tried to loosen the ropes around my wrists when I heard some talking and footsteps. I quickly shut my eyes again, trying to act asleep. The voices got closer, and I was able to hear some bits and pieces of conversation. Something about a missile. No way. Are they talking about Hassan and the missiles?! Ok, cool it, I told myself. I stayed as still as possible, making my breathing even trying to listen to the conversation. It was silent. Suddenly, I was doused with ice-cold water. I shot up, trying to breathe in the air it felt like I had lost. I sputtered, trying to get the water out of my mouth and eyes.

"Rise and shine soldier!" A voice called. I looked up at the voice. There he was. Hassan. I glanced over his shoulder and saw Graves standing behind him.

"Welcome back to the land of the living. You, here, are our prisoner. You are going to tell us everything we want to know, and you go free! Easy, right? Now, tell us the location of Task Force 141." Hassan spoke, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look at him. I stayed silent. He narrowed his eyes, pushing my face to the side roughly.

"C'mon Y/N, just give up their location." Graves chimed, stepping closer.

"Even if I knew, I wouldn't tell a traitor. So go jump off a building." I spat on the ground at his feet. He recoiled, glaring at me with disgust. Suddenly, my head whipped to the side, searing pain covering my left cheek. I looked up into Graves's eyes, his hand still in the air after slapping me.

"Did you just slap me? Who knew, Graves, the man that had everyone do the dirty work for him, could slap a person?!" Another slap. I gaped at him. I let out a singular laugh. Hassan moved behind me, grabbing my hair and yanking my head back. I groan in pain as I feel my hair tugged. I glare at Hassan as he holds tight to my hair. He pulls a knife off of his belt, placing it on my neck. The cool metal cuts a thin line into my neck, small beads of blood forming on the scratch.

"So what, you kill me? I won't tell you anything and you'll kill me." I say, ignoring the stinging pain as Hassan presses the knife into my neck. He smiles and removes the knife, stepping back and letting my hair go.

"No. I can't kill you yet. It's not that easy, Y/N, and you know it. I know about your time with the Ghosts. How you "won't" break." He steps in front of me, leaning down to eye level, "You're too valuable to 141 for us to just kill. We need you alive if we want any semblance of a plan. You are our biggest bargaining chip." He grabs my chin with his hand. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he speaks, the words flowing off of his tongue like lava. I rip my face away from his hand, struggling at the binds that tie my wrists together. Hassan only laughs as he stands.

"I'll leave her to you, Graves. Do whatever you want and get whatever information you can, but keep them alive. If we can't go to the task force, then they will come to us." Hassan pats Grave's shoulder as he passes, motioning for two guards to follow him. As he exits the room, I can hear the door lock behind him. Indicating that not only someone was on the outside, but they had some sort of system to make sure I couldn't just make up a knock and get out. I was trapped, but I couldn't let Graves know I knew, then I would be in bigger trouble. He turns back to me, a smile plastered on his lips.

"You know, I've always liked you, Y/N. There was something about you. That fire in your eyes, the determination. I knew that you were more than ex-military. So, when I told Hassan about you, he did some digging. Found out that not only were you ex-military, you were ex-Ghost. Not only is that an incredible feat, but you survived 9 months in a pit in the middle of the jungle. Poisoned day after day, hurt and tortured. Yet you never broke. You never became the killer they wanted you to become. Instead, you grew stronger. You overcame this with the help of 141. Now, they aren't here to help you. You could be stuck here with me for another 9 months, and you can't change anything about it." I glare at him, yanking against my bindings, hearing the chair creak beneath me. Graves smiles and laughs. He pulls his side arm out of the holster. He quickly aims and fires, the bullet finding home in my thigh. I scream out in pain, quickly clenching my jaw as I try not to release more noise. I looked at Graves, anger very visible on my face. He only smiled as he re-holstered his gun. He quickly moved forward, pulling his knife out of his sheath.

"See, now this is where the fun begins. If I can't break you, and I can't get you to answer my questions, then at least I can exact my revenge on 141 and the bastards in Las Almas through you. You here are my conduit. And I intend to make sure I get every single ounce of pain that was caused to me, caused to you. So, I hope you're in for a long night, Y/N, because I don't go easy."

Four hours later

My body is screaming in pain. My head spins with blood loss. I can barely keep my eyes open as Graves paces around me. I can hear his voice, but it's so far away. I can barely make out the floor from my feet. My nose drips with blood, and several cuts sting and drip onto the floor. I'm pretty sure he broke my nose, ribs, and maybe a cheekbone. I wheeze as blood drips from my lips. I know he's for sure punctured a lung, but I can't do anything but breathe slowly, trying to keep the fragment of my rib in place so I don't fill my lungs with blood. My uniform has since been stripped off of me, leaving me in my undergarments. I can already see black and blue bruises coating my torso. I can see one rib poking at my skin, sitting at an odd angle. I let my head hang, desperate to try and not move. I fear that I will only die faster if I move at all. I can't even tip my head back to relax for fear of choking on my blood. I see Graves stop in front of me, grabbing my hair and forcing me to look at him, pulling a pained whine from my already raw throat.

"Aw, already giving up? Too bad, you still have a long time to go. It's too bad. Your team isn't here to save you, just like last time. Ring any bells, C/S?" He says my call sign, looking for any reaction from me. He lets my head drop, signaling to his men to leave. They walk towards the door, knocking in a specific pattern I can't quite follow, the hollow thuds reverberating around my skull.

"Don't worry, Y/N, we'll be back sooner than your team will!" Graves calls, followed by the sound of laughter. I can barely make out his words before my world starts fading to black and I pass out.

3 days later

My body lays against the cold concrete of the floor. Graves and Hassan had left the base 2 days ago, leaving me with their lackeys instead. They seem to have more fun in getting me to scream than trying to get information out of me. They've only given me enough food and water to keep me alive, beating me senseless the minute after I finish eating. My ribs have since been lodged deeper into my lungs. I've been lucky not to die from blood loss or from drowning in it. My body lies in a pool of my blood, some old, some new. It's hard to tell at this point. I've lost so much blood, I can barely remember anything, all of it being a fuzzy blur. I slowly open my eyes, looking at the same door that's taunted me for the past 3 days. I refuse to move, not even bothering to try. The last few attempts landed me in worse pain. I smile to myself as all I can think about is my team. How do I know they're safe somewhere? They're probably trying to find me, but all my gear that had a tracker placed in it was removed and disposed of. I've lost hope that I'll be saved, but I know that somewhere my team is looking for me. As I lay on the floor, I became aware of some noises going on around the base. It seems alarms of some sort are going off. I can't tell. My hearing distorted most of the sound I hear. It sounds like someone's yelling and gunshots. Suddenly, the door to my room bursts open. I recognize one of the soldiers that tortured me. I slowly start to push myself up before he runs over and grabs me by my hair, yanking me into a sitting position. I cry out in pain, my ribs poking at my skin painfully. I feel the cold barrel of a gun against my head as I watch someone round the corner into the room. I blink, trying to clear my vision as I look at the person standing in the doorway. My vision slowly focuses, and I recognize the white skull of the Ghost's mask. My entire body sags with relief, which is short-lived as the soldier holding my hair only presses the gun against my temple harder.

"Take another step, and they die!" The soldier yells, his voice wavering. He's scared, we both know. But that doesn't stop the threat. I can hear Ghost talking in a low voice, probably to Price over his coms. He takes another slow step forward, almost challenging the soldier.

"You wouldn't dare. Don't even think about it." Ghost's voice is low and threatening. I can feel the barrel of the gun leaving my head for a second. A shot rings in the air as the bullet flies through my leg. At the same time, Ghost shoots the soldier between the eyes. My body screams in pain, but my voice only comes out in a small scream. I collapse to the floor, Ghost showing up beside me, not even a second later.

"Y/N! Hey Y/N! Stay awake for me! Look, I know it hurts, but you gotta stay awake!" He radios Price, informing us of our status. "Price, I've found C/S. We need a medevac as soon as possible. They’re in critical condition." I can barely hear a response. My vision starts blurring as my ears start ringing.

"Hey, no! Don't you dare pass out on me! Not here!" Ghost's voice is panicked and slightly shaky. He scoops me up into his arms, freezing only when I let out some cries of pain.

"I know, darling. I know it hurts, but you need to stay awake, at least until medical shows up. Can you do that? Can you stay awake for me?" He asks, bursting through the door and out into the hall. He starts running, speaking soft, reassuring words as we continue down the halls. Soon, we burst through a door that leads outside. I bury my face in Ghost's chest, letting out a strained whine at being exposed to the light so suddenly.

"Hurts. It hurts." That is all I can manage, my throat aching in response.

"I know, darling. We're almost there, I can see the chopper waiting for you. Just a little longer, ok?" He keeps running. We get closer to the chopper, and I feel myself needing to cough. I decided not to spatter my blood on Ghost as he kept going toward the medics. He places me on the stretcher. I finally decided to tilt my head to the side and let loose the coughs. Blood sprays from between my lips, coating some of the stretchers in dark red blood. Ghost's eyes widen and fill with worry at the sight. I turn my head back to look straight up. My vision finally fades, Ghost's voice ringing in my ears as I finally pass out, the doctors loading me up onto the chopper quickly.

So the poll I posted has blown up. Over 121 votes, the majority going for yes. So, I'll do some editing, and hopefully have it posted by Wednesday at the latest. I'll just warn you all in advance, it'll end angsty, but NO ONE DIES. No death, just angst.

Have fun!!

I lied. A random dies, but that's it.

Ok, hear me out.

Gaz totally buys little trinkets for the team every time he is out on missions separated from them. He just sees something in a store and goes, "Soap would like that." And buys it! They all have a little shelf for what they call "Gaz gifts." Somehow he managed to wiggle in and pick up a few things even Ghost managed to like. I feel like it would be a cool throwing knife that Ghost keeps tucked in his vest every time he's on a mission, and hell will break loose if Ghost loses the knife. Not because Gaz will be upset, but because Ghost is so upset that someone is treating him nicely and he lost the gift and feels horrible. Soap teases Gaz about it, but is thankful nonetheless. Price just loves seeing what Gaz manages to find for him. Kinda like a father seeing what their child made at school.

I need a soft! Ghost fic reacting to Gaz giving him a gift.

I totally believe that Price could take on each one of the 141 members. In a fight. I feel like he would know each of them so personally, he could target the weaknesses and just put them in their places if they were acting out. Just a thought.

Ok, for some reason, yall are following me, even though I don't post, so yall can give me ideas, I think I've opened my inbox to all suggestions, however these are the fandoms I know the most about;

- Marvel

- Attack on Titan

- DC (Batfam)

- My Hero Academia (Up to season 4)

- Promised Neverland

- Naruto (Might not be totally cannon.)

- Demon Slayer (Season 1 and movie)

- Creepypasta (100% not canon)

- Also COD (Modern Warfare, even though I haven't played it)

I'm open to other fandoms, they just might not be the best works I can give so try and stick to this, but crossovers are cool as well.