#I AM ABOUT TO BE IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN
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inkskinned · 3 months ago
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you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.
but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.
i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.
so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.
you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."
i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"
"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.
i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.
and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.
you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."
"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."
you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.
i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"
"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."
"do i die?"
you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."
"oh."
"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."
i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.
i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.
"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."
i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.
you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."
"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.
you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."
"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.
i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."
you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."
"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."
"you could always die, to be fair."
i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"
"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."
i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."
"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."
i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"
"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."
i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"
i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.
"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."
you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.
you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.
i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.
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greenbergsays · 4 months ago
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I'm going to say something that will make sense to the Fandom Olds and will probably be slightly controversial to the younger crowds, but I'm going to say it anyways
TPTB becoming increasingly aware of fandom and fanfiction over the past two-ish decades and thus, the spawning of the expectation of your ship going canon has ruined fandom a little bit
I mean, fandom does a great job of ruining itself a lot of the time, but this idea that a ship isn't "real" or "valid" if it isn't canon
or the idea that one ship is superior to the other because one is canon and the other isn't?
it's absolutely bananas
I grew up in an era of fandom where characters didn't even have to be from the same media source to ship them. I mean, do you know how many BtVS/HP crossover fics I read back in the early 2000s???
That shit was never gonna be canon, but we had fun with it, anyways
Like. Yeah, a lot of fanon speculation is bullshit, but it always has been and always will be. You have hundreds and/or thousands of people riffing off each other, the observations and the meta will always be deeper than what TPTB intended, and that's okay! That's what makes it fun!
I just think more people would be a lot happier in their fandom experiences if they realized that fandom is supposed to be an escape instead of a crusade
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egophiliac · 1 month ago
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still rolling around on the ground over the contrast between Jack and Mal. it's so...🤌🤌🤌
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Yeah, I don't know about you, Fidds, but I'd fold at this 🙏
Previous!!
Next!!
First!!
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crow-person · 9 months ago
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save a horse ride a cowboy !!!!
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yes-no-maybe-soo · 1 month ago
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Actually obsessed with this part... the hungry, lustful look in his eyes... the placement and movement of his hand... the possessive grip on her thigh... the passionate, reverent kisses on her knee and the way the tip of his nose just barely brushes against her skin... the breathless confession... the way he, even while hot, bothered, sweaty, and bricked up as all hell, still asks for her consent. Twice.
What a man, what a lover, what a king, what a husband 🫶
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briefkittenearthquake · 6 months ago
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I like my men smart
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 month ago
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Be wary not of the beast, but the hand that tamed it.
(Read more dog training tips over at Tiger Tiger)
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hirakiyois · 9 months ago
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you're laughing. beloved network tv show 911's resident single dad with repressed homosexuality is dating three people at once and you're laughing.
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gongyussy · 2 months ago
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brainrotcharacters · 2 months ago
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I love Penelope she endured Odysseus yapping and she went "don't you fucking dare steal my autonomy from me!? I decide if I accept your war crimes!! and I've already decided!!!" icon. Ithaca is lucky to have her
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somnoir · 1 month ago
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Prodigal son beyond Time - part 2
Part 1 | Masterpost
Damian first met his great uncle Danyal when he is three years old. His mother says he's met him long ago, when he was but a babe with a memory too fuzzy to remember. But the man before him is his grandfather's favorite child. The son that scowls at his father as he cradled Damian in his arms.
"What have you done?" His uncle scowled, a gentle hand pressed against the back of Damian's head. "He's a child!"
"Danyal!"
"You weren't like this with me." Danyal spat, keeping Damian in his arms and pressing his lips towards his nephew's forehead. Damian notes how cold his uncle's skin felt like, but more welcoming than that of his grandfather's.
"Danyal, he is to be trained like a proper Al Ghul." Grandfather said, frowning at Danyal.
"You trained me like a proper Al Ghul when I was older than him!" Danyal immediately protested, "He's three!"
"Danyal—"
"Ukht, I understand that you wish the best for your son but this is not it." Danyal immediately said, looking apologetic for interrupting Talia, but went back to glaring at Ra's. "I've tried to tolerate the fact that you handle an assassin league, father but this? You taught me to be loyal to the family. You taught me to cherish the family, you're blood—why the fuck aren't you giving the others the same treatment you gave me?!"
"Because they are not you!"
Damian doesn't recall what truly happened that day, but he does remember how his uncle's eyes went from soft blues to the same shade that the Lazarus pits glowed.
Damian remembers everything going dark.
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Damian grows up differently.
He continues on his training, but everything is kinder to him. The world is kinder when his uncle is home, having tea with grandfather and overseeing his training. Mother loves him and uncle Danyal the most, claiming that they are blessings to her life.
Grandfather is quieter nowadays, almost docile with his uncle around.
It's a little more peaceful. The assassin's continue to train, to fight. But their reign of terror fall upon those that are corrupt and destroying the world. It's one of the compromises uncle Danyal and grandfather have led too.
Damian grows up differently.
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Damian's arrival to the Bats' lives was unprecedented and quite confusing. He was a child raised by assassins, a child raised to become the next leader of the league. But he was... Strange. Strange for that kind of standard. 
Damian was rather sociable, hostile but not downright murderous towards them. 
His uncle did make sure that he had friends in the league.
Ra's had been utterly ecstatic to find out that he had two more grandchildren while Talia was quite pleased to know that she had a niece and nephew. 
Damian had a pair of strange cousins who snuck him out of training to go watch the stars, often getting them scolded, but it was worth it. Dante was older than Damian by five years. He was what other would call an angsty teen with how he often rebelled against his father. Meanwhile, Janelle—preferebly Ellie—was only a year older than Damian himself. She was a mischievous person who made sure that everything around her was swallowed by her own chaos. So when he entered the manor, suddenly struck with the reality that he had multiple siblings instead of just one elder brother, Damian knew what to do. 
Murder was not the answer. 
But by the words of his gracious uncle and the wisdom of his excellent cousins: fight your siblings like a feral child but defend them by being even worse to others. 
So Damian's first act as Dick Grayson's younger brother was to bite him. 
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The undead were restless, rising from their graves or haunting their own corpses. It wasn't something they usually dealt with, forced to call upon magicians. 
But even Constantine was bewildered by just how cursed Gotham's lands were. To bring back the dead. Jason was a miracle but this was like an abomination, a literal zombie. 
No one really knew how to properly deal with the dead...
Well...
"My uncle would be willing to provide his assistance in this matter." Damian piped up, examining the contained zombies from a safe distance. All eyes were quickly drawn to him, bewildered and questioning. 
"I hardly think that Dusan would be suitable for this." Bruce sighed. 
Damian scowled, "Not him. My grandfather's first-born is whom I speak off. He is knowledgeable in the occult arts of the dead." 
"Damian... Ra's Al Ghul only has one son." 
"Untrue. Grandfather's greatest pride was always my uncle. He is precious to grandfather and ensures that no one knows much off him. I expected you and Drake to be aware of the first born." 
Tim stiffened, "They weren't rumours?! Ra's actually has some cryptid son?" 
Bruce, who had heard of the old tales of the Demon head's beloved heir, had always thought they were stories to scare the assassins. He's never seen the man, nor has he found any evidence of him in the league. 
Jason finally started paying attention, "So the league's golden boy can help? Dami, I don't think Al Ghul will even let his favorite kid anywhere near us." 
"You underestimate my uncle's love for me."
"You met him?" Bruce quickly interjected. 
Jason shrugged, "He helped me out back then. Patched me up when the pit madness got worse and helped me manage it. But his face was usually covered and no one really knew his name."
"Aside from myself, grandfather, and my mother." 
Bruce frowned, "Nyssa and Dusan don't know their brother's name?" 
"Grandfather says that they do not have the privilege of knowing his name. Mother was the first of his other children to have met my uncle."
"And what about you? You won't give us his name?" 
Damian scowled, feeling rather displeased with his father's choice of words. "Names are powerful, father. My uncle taught me this when I was young." 
Constantine narrowed his eyes, "You're uncle some kind of fae, kid?" 
"Watch your mouth, hellblazer. He does not like you." Damian hissed, having heard all his uncle's rants about the Laughing Magician, especially whenever he'd just randomly pick up Talia and walk around Nanda Parbat like she was a kitten rather than a deadly assassin. "But I shall call upon my great uncle and ask him for assistance. This matter with the undead shall surely pique his interest."
"Tell the old man I said hi!" Jason cheerfully added, sounding quite pleased to hear about the mysterious uncle. 
"No." Damian blatantly denied. As much as he loves Todd (and he will never admit that), he was not going to let anyone threaten his status as his uncle's favorite child. Over his dead body. 
Damian was quick to walk away from all of them, quickly retrieving all the materials he'd need to summon his uncle. Dark green paint for the summing circle, five candles, and an astrology book. 
"Bats... Why the hell is your son performing a summoning ritual? For a ghost of the realms too." Constantine's tone was strained, clearly disturbed and wary of Damian's actions. 
"Damian." Bruce warned but Damian just waved him off. He watched as Jason started lighting up the candles, humming an unfamiliar tune. 
"D'you think the old man will help us?" 
"Of course! Uncle adores me." 
"You think he'll give me his name?"
"I will gut you, Todd." Damian immediately responded with the most nonchalant tone he could ever give. 
Jason shrugged, before taking a step back. 
"Damian! Whatever you're summoning—" 
"I'm summoning my uncle, father. He's the best person to go to with these issues." Damian insisted, before muttering something unintelligible under his breath.
Bruce was startled when Constantine grabbed him, eyes wide and rapidly turning pale. "Why the hell does your son know how to speak the language of the—"
Fire burst forth from the circle, slowly morphing into an icy blast. 
"Dead." Constantine's breath hitched, "Holy shit, your brat just summoned the ghost king." 
Bruce grabbed Damian the moment a hand emerged from the blast of cold. He shoved his on behind him, suddenly feeling frightened as his entire body felt goosebumps. Fuck. Did Damian really just perform a summoning ritual for such a powerful being? He never expected for Ra's to brainwash his son into believing that such a powerful thing—
"Nephew!" 
Bruce blinked, suddenly blinded by the light. 
"Uncle!" Damian escaped from his grasp, rushing into the circle. Constantine practically screamed once Damian ran into the arms of what was supposedly his uncle and the ghost king. 
In front of Bruce was the most gorgeous man he's ever met. 
The floating hair that reminded him of snow and the green eyes that were purer than the Lazarus pits. He couldn't help but swallow thickly, blinking. Damian was held up by the ghost king, allowing the boy to nuzzle into the crook of his neck. 
"Hello, dami (my blood)." The king cooed, his pronunciation of the nickname much different from the shortened version of Damian's name. "I was not expecting you to call me. What's happened, my dear?" 
Damian hummed, but before he could speak, he was immediately interrupted.
"Long time no see, old man!" Jason yelled, waving his arm as if he wasn't in the same room as the king. 
"Jason! Hello! How are you? The corrupted ecto hasn't returned, has it? If it has, just tell me. I'll schedule a check up with Frostbite." The king quickly fussed, not minding the way Damian was baring his teeth at Jason. "Damian, behave!" 
Damian just seemed to whine, refusing to behave and opting to pestering the king. 
"I'm good, uncle. Haven't gone out crazy since you took me to the doctor." Jason smiled, already ripping of his domino mask to show that his eyes were green tinged with blue, not glowing green like the pits. 
"Good, good. But I really must know why I've been called." The king softly said, directing his words to Damian who was already trying to wriggle our his grasp. Gently, the king settled Damian back on his feet. 
"Right. Uncle, my father, Batman. Father, this is my uncle." Damian introduced, his tone hurried and a bit hesitant. 
The king, Damian's uncle, smiled at Bruce. "Hello there, Mr. Wayne. I've wanted to meet you for a long time." The king hummed, "My name's Danny, but the Al Ghuls call me Danyal." 
"Uncle!" 
"Hush, hush, Damian. I can give my name to anyone I want. I don't suppose that your father is worthy of it."
Bruce really should be more concerned about the fact that the king knew his name. 
"But what of the others?" 
"Little one, I sent Nyssa and Dusan letters ages ago. But rest assured, dearest Talia is still the first to earn it." Danny—Danyal—the ghost king softly spoke and patted Damian's head. "And... Oh, it's you."
"Your majesty!" Constantine enthusiastically greeted while Danny scowled. 
"Tax evading bastard." Danny huffed, shaking his head before promptly ignoring the tax evading bastard in question. 
"Damian." 
"The dead are rising."
Danny blinked, blinked again, before he groaned and shook his head. 
"Okay, sorry. That seemed to be caused by an error on my side. Some prisoners of my realms started a riot and some of them managed to break out. Some have most likely decided to overshadow their old bodies." Danny sighed, "I'll have this taken care of. Apologies for the inconveniences."
"These... Zombies have been wrecking havoc across my city." Bruce frowned, "They've been harming people."
"Vengeful spirits do that. They're criminals meant to be in prison. It's rare for breakouts to happen, in all honesty." Danny paused, just long enough to run his fingers through Damian's hair. "But if you wish to take charge, by all means. These are corpses being possessed by their own spirits and... Well... They're out of their minds. Not really considered revenants since the possession isn't quite permanent." 
"Alright, Bats. We've gotta make a proper deal here. His Majesty was summoned so we've gotta offer him something—" 
"That's not necessary." Danny immediately waved Constantine away, evident displeasure from the man. "The sigil I gave Damian was just to call me to him. No need for an exchange."
"Seriously?" Constantine blurted out. 
Danny just shrugged, "He's family. And my favorite nephew." 
Damian smirked, absolutely smug. "I am your only nephew, uncle."
"Mm... Jason's also my nephew." Danny chuckled softly, easily stepping out of the circle and removing it from the floor—leaving not a single stain. "Now... Shall we deal with the dead?" 
Bruce Wayne has made many bad decisions in his life, especially when it came to his relationships. Damian's ghost king of an uncle might be one of them.
Masterpost
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honeyhobbs · 1 month ago
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I'll meet judgement by the hounds
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egophiliac · 12 days ago
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YO TREY CLOVER IS HERE !!!
TREY NOOOO you weren't supposed to look so cool, I was supposed to be able to save my keys for all the upcoming birthdays, how could you do this to me --
also hey. hey Trey. what's in that bowl.
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welcometogrouchland · 23 days ago
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(ID in alt) you guys even fuck w/ the flash on here???
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scintillatingshortgirl19 · 1 year ago
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i think im having a stroke
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