“Home is where the trees look normal” is the sweetest, saddest, most nostalgic truth I’ve ever heard.
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I think what I want to get into with the "Anyone can do harm." thing that I keep beating yall over the head with is that literally anyone, anyone at all can do harm it's not "in your DNA" to be an abuser or written in the stars that you'll be a predator.
Whatever image you have of an abuser in your head, drop it and replace it with your favorite person in the world and you'll probably be closer to the truth than you realize.
It's easy to address harm when it's coming from someone you already hate.
I see it happen all the time. Someone you couldn't stand for no real reason does something heinous then all of a sudden here comes the avalanche of "I always knew they were a fucked up individual."
No, you didn't.
There is no possible way you could have known, you just already didn't fuck with them before they started doing something you could use to justify your hatred of them. I'm guilty of it too! I'm petty, mean, vindictive, and yes! I'm way quicker to believe something bad about someone I hate versus someone I love because I'm human. Still, y all gotta learn to move past that initial "Well, they were always nice to me!" gut feeling and understand that nobody truly knows anyone and anyone can be capable of anything. Even victims. Even you.
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Prompt 169
Danny is from a world where everyone has wings, even if most have long since lost the ability to fly. Something about loading and aspect ratio, wings being too small, body too heavy, now mostly used as display, whatever.
It doesn’t matter even if he had blueprints from when he was like six of a jetpack to help fly. It won’t work anyway and hey, he has his ghost form! Which uh, might be perhaps, affecting his wings which were maybe sort of scorched black and practically down to the bone thanks to the accident.
It doesn’t matter, he swears. Though he’s admittedly relieved to see the new feathers growing in are different from Dan’s angry sunset. Even if they’re not even supposed to be able to grow back. Alright, this is fine, no one is going to notice! It’s not like everyone knows about the poor Fenton kid whose wings were absolutely destroyed thanks to an accident! It’s fine.
He’s not flying in a half-panic towards the Far Frozen while crying because his wings are coming back and he’s so scared. He didn’t panic and instantly fled the moment Jazz pointed them out while changing the bandages.
He definitely didn’t trip over something while wiping away said tears and blacking out from all the stress and all of his problems that he definitely mentioned to someone and isn’t keeping a secret. Definitely.
Hawkwoman and Hawkman would like everyone to know that neither of them were expecting a very small child to be spat out of the villain of that week’s machine that should definitely not be a portal. A very small child, maybe nine or ten, with a multitude of concerning wounds both old and fresh. Which isn’t even beginning to touch on the wings.
Feathered, like baby down despite the gnarled scars, unlike their own metallic, with the beginning of tiny specklings like stars amidst the darker fuzz peeking from the wounded flesh.
Who?! Who dared?! It’s (at least to the forever reincarnating duo) a literal baby! They still have down! Tiny baby fuzz! Was it the portal?! Oh this villain is going to taste their maces for causing this if that’s the case!
The rest of the Justice League would honestly like to know what just happened and are honestly unsure on if they should stop the two…
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"Oh, fuck no." The door is slammed, unfortunately for him, the guy stuck his foot in the jamb and pushed it open again.
"C'mon luv!" Constantine smiles charmingly, not waiting for Danny and entering the apartment.
At least Batman, Nightwing and Spoiler had the patience to wait for him to invite them in. Sagging against the door, he beckoned them inside.
Despite the caution, Spoiler gleefully stepped in, looking around like a child in an amusement park— which might not be too far off.
His apartment is, with all its wards and enchantments, very magical inside than it is outside.
The planetary system of another world, used as light for the living room and for practice.
(Nightwing is careful with what he touches. He still remembers the hours they spent in Mumbo Jumbo's hat.)
Batman on the other hand is following Constantine and Danny to what he assumes to be the office, if the amount of magical stuff carelessly laying around means anything.
"Alright fucker, what are you doing here? And how did you even know I live in gotham?"
John had the audacity to look abashed, scratching the back of his head with a nervous chuckle.
"Something came up and you know Gotham doesn't like me. She is much more used to you and I wanted to introduce bats to you, in case of emergency."
The young adolence stares owlishly.
(How did Constantine expect him to act at the fact that he's trusting a magical situation into the hands of a stranger?
Batman isn't sure how good the boy even is!)
"That's incredible thoughtful of you Connie." Danny hums. "What did you lose for your sorry ass to come here?"
Spoiler snorts, petting a red salamander. "He didn't lose anything." She reassures with a wave, giving an exaggerated smile and raising her brows to show that she's finding it very amusing.
Constantine sputters.
"Ancient knows how Zatanna and Raven deal with him."
Nighteing perks up from the side where he'd looked over the books, some pixie fairies(?) fawning over him? "Raven? You know her?"
Danny suppresses another sigh.
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Just thinking about Arthur's love language again.
We often talk about how Merlin is the one who can do physical touch. He's used to hugging his mom, probably Will. It's a give and take, relatively balanced, there are certain people he's not allowed to touch or has to stay away from out of fear for his life. Because he's not allowed to be close to people who would want to hurt him.
And then there is Arthur. Who is used to receive touches but never touching back. Servants do his hair, see him wash up, measure his clothes, knights clap his shoulder in passing. It's always brief, none of it is meaningful, really, except for him because it's the way Uther tells him he's done well. And then he has rarely people he's allowed to touch at all. When Arthur is punished, he's being locked away, and all on his own, back turned to him and not even the barest of touch in sight.
It's almost natural the way they gravitate towards each other. Merlin reaching out and prolonging unnecessary touches because it gives him comfort, while Arthur let's him because it affirms him.
Arthur letting him touch means: you're save.
Merlin touching Arthur means: you're doing well.
I based a fic on it :)
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remus: i’ll take care of you.
regulus: it’s nasty work.
remus: not to me. not if it’s you.
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