#I got overwhelmed by the amount of people

[writingdevil]

hello!! I hope this message finds you well,the idea of a smitten/broken/oppy polycule has been on my mind these past few days and i think itd be interesting to see you explore the dynamic of three people pleasers for vastly different reasons (one who does it for survival, one who does it for safety under a higher power, and one who wants to make everyone happy) and i think that them helping each other with their issues could be really sweet!! i personally kinda picture their dynamic to be something along the lines of um uh!!!

Oppurtunist: ah fuck we getting vulnerable

Broken: ah fuck we getting cared and loved for

Smitten: i love my bfs with issues <3 (claws pointed at his chest, preparing to rip his heart out again)

you dont have to do this if you dont want to!! i just i uh i um uh well uh *explodes*

(Wait, don't explode! I've been insane about this polycule ever since I got this request because I think it would be such an overwhelming amount of feelings, does that make sense? Smitten and Broken are happy to give their lives for love, or what they see as love, but Oppy would rather jump off a cliff than admit a single genuine emotion of his, but I think the other two would help bring that out in him. Anyways, enjoy!)

Let it be known that this entire situation came about because of dinner.

Now, Opportunist liked to consider himself a perceptive fellow, someone who could see all the weaknesses and blind spots that others didn't, which just gave him an opening to strike.

He will say, he hasn't necessarily found a reason to strike yet, but one could never be too prepared when it comes to other people and their unpredictable ways. So Opportunist liked to observe and take mental notes on his fellow flockmates, just to make sure that they could never surprise him or get the upper hand.

But there were two certain little birdies that had been taking up most of his attention.

Smitten and Broken.

Opportunist assumed that they would either be impossible to stand, or incredibly easy to befriend and use. In some strange way, it felt like both options had occurred.

In the time that they've learned to take control of their own lives and freedom, Opportunist had watched as they slowly realised that they had no princess to give their hearts to or be the purpose of their existence, and were consumed with grief.

Opportunist did his best to either steer clear of them, or offer them something in the hopes of placating them. Neither of them were particularly dangerous or useful in that state, so he just tried to be polite and respectful, because emotions like that were not his strong suit.

Thankfully though, they got better, and Opportunist hadn't realised how much he had missed the sound of Smitten's genuine, boisterous voice, or just the quiet presence of Broken that made the flock feel complete. Everything started to go back to normal.

But then Opportunist realised that Smitten and Broken hadn't just gotten closer. They had gotten together.

They would constantly be draped over one another, or giving each other loving gazes from across the room, and were even sharing a room, to Opportunist knowledge.

The actual idea of the two of them becoming a couple wasn't the thing that perplexed Opportunist. He's seen Paranoid sneak into Cold's room more times than he could count. That wasn't what Opportunist was hung up on.

It just-it kind of looked like two natural disasters coming together to fucking destroy the world, did it not?

Surely this relationship could only end in flames, but when he asked Hero if it was okay to let this slide, he just gave him a big, dumb smile and said that they were happy, and that was all that matters.

Whatever. Opportunist just tried to ignore the whole thing, even when it was hard to get the image of them kissing so softly out of his head-and he just wondered how much of their love was real.

One day, Opportunist went around the house, calling people for dinner. That was his job-he wasn't allowed to touch the food, but he can sure as hell be entrusted to get people to listen to him with the promise of food.

He hadn't exactly been thinking when he casually opened the door to Smitten's room.

"Smitten! Din-" Opportunist froze, one hand clutching the doorknob as he looked up, finding Smitten sitting at the edge of his bed, with a flushed Broken on his lap, with their arms around each other.

Oh, he had absolutely walked in on something.

"Sorry!" he squeaked out, but neither of them seemed to mind. Smitten waved one hand in the air while he used the other one to pull Broken closer, and Opportunist tried not to look at the movement too intensely.

"Nonsense, friend! You are quite alright," Smitten assured, and Opportunist chuckled nervously, taking a confident step into the room, noting how Broken was giving him a curious look.

"Well, I just came to say that dinner's ready, so you two lovebirds should probably come down soon." He saw the way they both glowed at the use of 'lovebirds' but didn't say anything.

Smitten planted a kiss on Broken's cheek, and Opportunist couldn't help but just stare at the action, until he realized that Broken was giving him a curious look.

He quickly looked away, spinning around as he said, "Well I'd better get to the others-"

"Is something wrong, Oppy?"

Opportunist froze, before frantically turning to face the couple again, with Smitten furrowing his brows in confusion at him, along with Broken still staring at him.

He waved a hand through the air and tried to act casual. "What? No, of course not! Everything's-" but then he paused, and his eyes lingered on the romantic hold they had in each other, and he couldn't fight the urge to ask, just this once.

He gripped the doorknob for support. "Actually, I do have a question-about you two."

Smitten smiled brightly, standing up while still holding Broken safely. "Of course, my kind friend, ask away! What part of our precious love story would you like to know?" Opportunist kept a pleasant smile on his face, even as Broken patted Smitten's shoulder and requested to be put down, which Smitten did without any hesitation.

"It's just-I suppose I wasn't expecting-this," Opportunist admitted, motioning to the two of them, "the two of you falling in love with each other."

"Oh, would you like me to tell you how it began? How our love first blossomed?"

"No," Opportunist was quick to stop Smitten there, taking a few steps into the room, attempting to remain interested but not too intrigued by their relationship. He shrugged, putting his arms behind his back as he said, "I guess it's just a little strange to me-being able to fall in love when it could hurt you so terribly." He took a tiny bit of sick enjoyment in watching Broken flinch at his words, but then Smitten was quick to grab his hand and whispered some reassurances in his ear.

Once he was sure his partner was okay, Smitten took a bold step before him, and Opportunist's breath hitched at the pure passion and determination in his eyes. His voice was firm yet not harsh as he said, "Love is a powerful force my friend, and I promise you that if you treat it with respect, it gives you that back tenfold." There was a heaviness in Smitten's words, one that even Opportunist could tell was coming from a sore place in Smitten's heart.

But he didn't want to delve deeper into that, for reasons he couldn't explain, so instead he just made a show of grimacing at the two of them, and casually threw out, "I just don't see the point of it, really." Opportunist tried to leave again, to escape this conversation that was continuing to make him feel nervous for some reason, until Smitten's voice cut through the tension.

"Let's make a deal, then."

Opportunist froze, then sent a look of confused interest over his shoulder. "What?"

Smitten glanced at Broken, who nodded his head in permission with a small smile on his face, and Smitten looked back at Opportunist, a dark intensity in his eyes that Opportunist's knees buckled at.

"Let's make a deal. You spend one week with us, as part of our relationship, and we'll prove to you that love is a beautiful, worthwhile thing." It wasn't exactly the love itself that Opportunist had a problem with, but who was falling in love, but he couldn't say that. So he spun back around confidently and asked, "You think a week is enough time to convince me?"

Smitten arched a brow as he looked him up and down. "With you, my fellow? More than enough."

Opportunist was so blinded by mortification that he didn't even think before shaking on it.

Day One

Opportunist was determined to get through this week by acting as aloof towards their affections as possible. He was going to come out of this deal the victor, to prove that some loves weren't meant to be. He wasn't sure why he needed to prove it so badly, but he just did.

Thankfully, on the first day, Smitten and Broken just took him on a peaceful walk. They did insist on holding both of his hands, but Opportunist managed to push the warmth of their touches away long enough to hold a conversation with them.

He was definitely going to win this.

Day Two

They didn't do anything particularly exciting, except for lounge about and talk all day, taking turns preening each other. The act of pretending to not care about this whole thing grew harder when they wouldn't leave his side, but the feel of Smitten so delicately preening his precious feathers, did help loosen him up-even to the point of falling asleep around them.

That didn't mean anything. Everyone grew a little sleepy during preening, that didn't mean anything about Smitten or Broken, or that Opportunist actually felt safe around them. No way.

He still had everything under control.

Day Three

This was when things started to go downhill for him.

Opportunist had been sharing a bed with the couple, because when they expressed concern over not wanting him to be uncomfortable, Opportunist just dug his heels in further and said that he was completely fine with it-a lie, which was his first mistake.

Opportunist doesn't remember much about his nightmare-but there was just heat surrounding him on all sides, and there were cuts in his palms, and when he looked up he saw her. He wanted her to go away but she was stuck and she was stuck because of him. He did this. He caused this.

He was evil he was evil he was evil-

"Oppy?"

Opportunist gasped as he woke up, body wracked with shaking as he laid between Smitten and Broken, frantically blinking to peer into the darkness of the bedroom.

"Oppy, are you okay?" That was Broken, whispering softly to him. He was staring up at him with concern all over his face, his hand itching to reach out, but it never touched Opportunist.

Opportunist couldn't do anything but stare at Broken for a few tense minutes, his brain trying to come to terms that he wasn't in danger, and that his dreams couldn't hurt him right now.

Every one of them got nightmares, but Opportunist made sure to never let that show in front of the others, that his mind and his choices tortured him just like everyone else. He handled his nightmares in his own company, by panting and quietly crying into his pillow, so that nobody could hear him breaking down.

He hadn't had a nightmare in ages, so he hadn't been concerned about that-but life just loved to screw him over.

He gripped the sheets underneath him as Broken continued to look at him with that pity, that tenderness that meant he saw Opportunist as weak and pathetic, so he had to ignore how badly his body shook right now, and he attempted to smile at Broken.

The smile was wobbly and it hurt his face to stretch his skin like that when he was physically holding back a breakdown at the same time, but he pushed through, and tried to keep his tone light and friendly as he said, "I'm fine, Broken," hoping his voice didn't break halfway through. "I'm a-absolutely okay right n-now." Oh god, was he stuttering?

He could feel tears pooling in his eyes, but he frantically blinked them away before Broken could see. "N-Nothing's wro-"

But then he felt soft hands cupping his face, and Broken was pressing up against him, and Opportunist could feel his heart beating against his own rapid one.

He couldn't tear his eyes away from Broken as he whispered to him, "You don't have to keep all the hurt inside you, y'know?" Broken ran his thumbs over Opportunist's cheeks, and he suddenly felt like everything within him was bursting to be let out, all the good and rotten parts that he tried to ignore most of the time, an impenetrable wall that he was convinced would hold.

But a stupid nightmare and a sympathetic little birdie were quickly changing that.

Broken glanced down at his chest, right where his heart was pounding furiously, and he said, "It's okay to let yourself feel bad, Oppy," but he said with such a heaviness, like Broken understood having his life being one performance-and he guessed worshipping counted as a performance. But it was the fact that he knew and he was telling Opportunist that he understood him, that it was okay to let those feelings that you hate out-that made his face crumble as sobs consumed his whole body.

Hot tears cascaded down his face as he sobbed as quietly as he could, and Broken hugged him close, and he found himself practically clutching Broken against him, too scared to be alone anymore.

Broken whispered reassurances to him and rubbed his back, and from behind Opportunist, he heard Smitten-who had been fast asleep up until now-twist around with a soft noise of concern in the back of his throat. He turned around and threw an arm around Opportunist, sliding up against his back and pressing his face against his neck, and Opportunist might have cried harder from how nice it all felt, to not have to perform in this moment.

He wasn't sure how long he cried for, but he does remember having a much easier time sleeping with Broken and Smitten cuddling him.

Day Four

After the chaos that was last night, Opportunist wanted nothing more than to lock himself in his own room and fade away from reality under the comfort and safety of his own blankets.

He told himself that he didn't want to see Broken and Smitten, because he knew they'd want to talk about it, and Opportunist would much rather die than do that.

But to his surprise, when the lovebirds eventually found him, they didn't ask about his nightmare at all. In fact, they were sat around the kitchen table with a deck of cards, asking if he wanted to play with them.

He-doesn't get asked to play games a lot.

It was actually quite fun, even if Smitten wasn't very good at it. But Broken was unexpectedly very good at cards, and Opportunist even found that he lost a round to him once.

The embarrassment and heaviness from last night was slowly leaving his body, and was being replaced with a warmth in his chest-but that surely meant nothing, right?

Day Five

Opportunist had actually found the time to be alone-or more accurately, Broken had finally decided that he could be trusted to not break down in tears.

Opportunist knew that them playing cards with him was just a way to make him feel better after his nightmare, and while he appreciated it, he felt like he needed to repay them somehow.

Usually, his first reasoning for this would be so that they couldn't use their acts of kindness against him in some way, but today, he just felt like showing his thanks to them. Which was weird for him, but he didn't look too deep into it.

So he spent the whole morning thinking of how to show his appreciation, and what he came up with wasn't exactly original or jaw dropping, but Opportunist wasn't exactly a romantic guy.

Once he had his gift, he then spent the rest of the day worrying if they'll like it, if it was even good enough for them, and if he should just forget it-

"Opportunist, my dear!"

Opportunist yelped as he spun around, keeping his arms securely behind his back.

He had just been leisurely walking around their garden, when Smitten suddenly surprised him. He watched as Smitten arched a brow in curiosity, tilting his head slightly as he looked down at his hidden arms, and for good measure, Opportunist wrapped his wings around his arms as well.

"Smitten! Hi! How are you? What is it?" God, he's never sounded so nervous before. Why? It was just Smitten.

But the way Smitten beamed at him made his breath hitch, and when he took a step forward, Opportunist found it difficult to not take a step back, that he felt like keeping his distance would keep his head clear right now.

"Well, I haven't seen you all day, and I was starting to get worried." Opportunist's face fell in surprise. "Wait, really?"

Smitten nodded firmly. "Of course, Broken was beginning to get lonely without you."

Confusion and warmth started to mix in Opportunist's head, and he wasn't sure if he could think straight like this. "But-But he has you, shouldn't that be enough?"

Smitten then smiled at him in a way as if he knew something that Opportunist didn't, and instead asked, "What's behind your back?"

Opportunist felt his feathers betray him by fluffing up in that moment, and he looked down at the ground in embarrassment as he muttered, "Just-something for you."

Smitten gasped. "For me? Darling, you shouldn't have!" Opportunist had to try extremely hard not to think about how nice it had felt to be called darling, and the amount of heat and butterflies rising within him was beginning to be too much to bear, so Opportunist just squeezed his eyes shut and stuck his arms out in front of him. "Here!"

There was silence, until Opportunist felt Smitten take the gift out of his hands, and then he opened his eyes.

Smitten was staring down at the bouquet of red roses in awe and wonder, and Opportunist was quick to explain, "I-I remember roses being your favourite, but I wasn't sure about Broken. I just wanted to give you both something to say thank you-for helping that night."

He tried to look at anywhere that wasn't Smitten's face, but his eyes were always drawn back to how sweet he was looking at the flowers. Then that sweetness was directed at him as Smitten said, "Thank you so much, my dear." But then he stepped closer to him, leaning his head to the side in order to give him a peck on the cheek, and Opportunist panicked, quickly stumbling back a step as he blurted out, "I need to ask you a question!"

Smitten paused, and Opportunist wasn't sure why he had said that, only that they were getting into dangerous territory that they needed to back away from, but he might as well ask at this point.

"But the question might-hurt you," Opportunist nervously added, but Smitten just nodded in permission, a more calm and serious look on his face.

Opportunist couldn't find it within him to ask this question with confidence, so his voice came out soft and uncertain as he asked, "How do you know that what you have with Broken is-real?" He took a deep breath, and continued, "How do you know that the two of you aren't just using each other to fill the hole that she left? How can you be so sure that this time, you won't hurt each other?"

Opportunist found enough courage to look Smitten in the eye, and was surprised to not find him brimming with rage at the thought of his love being anything less than pure. He was staring down at the flowers with a bittersweet expression, and then he shrugged, an action that seemed weird on Smitten.

"I suppose," he began, "that I may have-struggled to adapt without the princess, and that my love for her wasn't always-good." It seemed like Smitten was having trouble articulating himself, as if a part of him was still ashamed at what he had done.

"But Broken understood how I felt, to a degree, and there was a comfort in that, that we both understood how the other was feeling, that we weren't alone. It wasn't just Broken, you know. The others tried to help fill the hole in our hearts, until I realised that the hole wasn't from me missing the princess."

"Really?" Smitten chuckled, and finally looked up at him, taking another confident step forward, and this time Opportunist couldn't find the strength to back away. Smitten smiled lovingly at him, and whispered, "It was from not expressing my love to everything I adored." Then he pressed a tender kiss to his cheek, and Opportunist's knees trembled.

He's not so sure what to think anymore.

Day Six

They were in bed again, and Opportunist was lying down with Broken laying on top of him, and Smitten sitting up to his right, reading a story to them.

Broken hadn't been feeling the best, so they decided to stay in and keep him company, and Opportunist busied himself with rubbing a hand up and down his back for comfort.

Everything was quiet and peaceful, but Opportunist's brain felt like it had melted into nothing, like he had no thoughts other than love.

He thought that Smitten and Broken's relationship would be doomed to fail, but their capacity for love only seemed to make them stronger. They weren't going to fall back into that darkness, not when they had someone pulling them back from it.

Broken squirmed above him, and Opportunist looked down, watching as Broken sighed as he rested against his chest.

Broken wasn't as depressing as Opportunist initially thought. He was actually incredibly perceptive of how others were feeling when his head was clear, and Opportunist found a comfort in knowing that he wouldn't be turned away for breaking down in front of Broken.

Broken felt his staring, and lifted his head to stare back at him, and Opportunist could feel his heart pounding against his chest, and so could Broken probably.

Broken's voice was an almost silent whisper as he asked, "Do you want to kiss me?" Opportunist's mind went blank as he nodded, and Broken smiled, and then they were both leaning in to kiss each other.

It felt good. It felt soft, and it felt safe.

"Finally." Then there was Smitten, and the sound of the book being tossed, before Opportunist felt hands cupping his face, and he was brought into the hungry mouth of Smitten.

Smitten was passion, and he set every inch of Opportunist aflame, so strong that he mind was struggling to keep up with him. But it felt real. It felt like love, from the both of them.

Opportunist wasn't even mad that he really didn't last the week.

[corishadowfang]

(Bet you can’t guess who requested this lmao): something Xehanort-related please

(For this)

It's a mystery, haha. Hope you like it!

---

           Scala ad Caelum was…a lot.

           Xehanort should’ve been expecting it; he was well aware of just how small his island home was, after all.  But he still wasn’t entirely prepared for the shear amount of sights and sounds and smells and feelings.  For a moment, everything felt helplessly blurred together, noises crashing in a cacophony through his ears, crowds blurring until he couldn’t quite make out individual people, chest twisting with fear and joy and grief and boredom and so much more.

           It was overwhelming—paralyzing, almost.  Terrifying, in some ways, but also, strangely, exhilarating.  For all that a part of him wanted to turn and run and escape the crowd, the rest wanted to stay there and drink in the novelty.

           “Come on!”

           It took a moment to really figure out who was speaking to him, or register the hand wrapping around his arm.  That was—Eraqus.  A…‘blueblood,’ the others had called him, though he’d squawked with protests at the title.  He seemed friendly enough, eyes bright and smile wide as he tugged Xehanort further into the busy streets.  “There’s a lot we’ve got to show you,” he said, and if he noticed that Xehanort wasn’t entirely focused on him, he didn’t say anything.  “There’s the library, and the gardens, and—oh, there’s this one bakery, down near the docks—”

           “‘We’?” Xehanort managed finally, tearing his attention back to the conversation.  “Who’s ‘we’?  You’re the only one dragging me places.”

           “Well—fine!  There’s lots I have to show you!  Now come on.”  Xehanort would like to point out that he was coming—Eraqus had never actually stopped moving—but the other boy faltered for a moment, turning back to Xehanort with a sheepish sort of look.  “Actually—what do you want to see?”

           The question drew him up short.  “What?”

           “You’re the one visiting!  You should be the one who decides where we go.”

           It was…an interesting question.  There had been so little on their island home—beaches and forests, sure, but he’d trailed over every inch of them, impressed the details deep into his memory, swimming out to sea as far as he could just to see what else he could discover.  It was nothing like this—nothing that would give him even an inkling of where a good place to start would be.

           “…Everything,” Xehanort said finally, lips twitching into a smile that felt almost manic.  “I want to see everything.”

[lexxiie]

s/o making dolls that looks just like the apostles?? (Your choosing)

When You Make Them A Doll

Fandom: Killer Peter Featuring: Nathaniel, John, Thaddeus.

You have always been a very crafty person, ever since you were a child, those things just came naturally for you. Your school projects were always the coolest, you enjoy crochet, painting, all that kind of stuff. But your biggest hobbie is doll making... You LOVE making dolls and they are always so beautiful, the amount of detail you put into them is impressive, and it is a very personal thing among your closest circle, you only ever make them for your family and close friends. It’s like a gift reserved only for when people are already an incredibly important part of your life... Which is why he has been silently waiting for his to come.

NATHANIEL

He came home from a very long day at the hospital, eager to finally see you as it's not as late yet, which is unusual. He commonly arrives home around 2 am, but he rushed his rounds today to spend at least a bit of time with you. He's very confused when he opens the door and all lights are off, he really was hoping to find you awake, he missed you all day. The doctor lights a little lamp at the living room, not wanting to disturb your sleep in case you were on the couch, but you were not. He headed to your room, but you weren't there either.

Finally, he went to the studio, where he found you asleep on top of your desk, with something on your hand that he didn't quite know what it w-

Oh.

A doll. The doll. He carefully picked it up, admiring every little detail, you even sewed a robe for it. The man was so focused and overwhelmed by his emotions that he didn't realize when he woke you up.

You snatched the doll from his hands immediately. "You were not supposed to see it yet, I was gonna wrap it up for you!" Your face showed how upset you were, but he didn't care, his smile didn't fade at all. Nathaniel got down on his knees and gave you the tightest hug he could without risking breaking all your bones. "I thought you would never gift me one." He said, almost as a whisper. The frown on your face softened, "how could I not? You are my favorite person." You said as you returned the hug. The doctor looked up at you, he couldn't remember the last time he had felt this... Excited? Moved? He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew you were not only his favorite person, but the most important person in his life. The one he loved the most.

JOHN

He doesn't care about some silly little doll... Right? It's such a stupid thing, whatever, he doesn't need it, he lives with you, he's your partner, that's more important than you making him a doll. He doesn't even like them.

But there's this feeling whenever he visits your parent's home and their dolls are over the fireplace... Even the pets get theirs. Is a dog more important than him? He doesn't want to say he's jealous, but he kind of is. Even your stupid friends have one, your male friends. He hates them. The hates them and those stupid dolls. He can't even see them, so why does he care? He bets your friends got one because they he can see theirs, you must think it's useless to gift something like that to a blind man.

The truth is, the dolls make him very insecure. He doesn't understand why he hasn't got one, he loves you, and you say you love him, but do you? Every single person you love has one, except him.

He is snapped out of his thoughts when your mother tells him that it is his turn to open his gifts. He starts with the gifts your family got him, which is really nice of them, by the way. He loves to feel included in these type of things, even if he doesn't say it.

When he's done with all of them, it's finally your turn. You had already gifted him a couple of things that he opened at your shared home, so he wasn't expecting anything else. He opened the box carefully, having no idea what it could be. His echolocation helped him figure out a silhouette, but it wasn't until he started touching it that he realized what it was. He froze. For a while. He silently stood up and gave you a hug, not saying a thing. "Do you like it?" You asked, "Very much." He responded. He kept his face buried in your neck for a couple of seconds, before looking at you and kissing your lips briefly, but God knows that if your family wasn't watching, he would have kissed you like never before.

THADDEUS

He wants his own doll sooo bad!!! He has even told you so. He doesn't want to force you into making one, so he doesn't mention it often, but he did ask when you first started dating if you would ever make one for him. You said that you would if he earned it.

He has earned it! He has worked for it! Where is his doll?

You have been together for a while now, he has made it clear that he loves you very much and very seriously, he even bought an apartment for the both of you! Yet he doesn't have a doll? How is that possible? What is he doing wrong?

The lack of that damn doll only haunts him on good days, on days when he is happy, like a slap on the face that brings him back to cruel reality. He hates to feel the hot sting of that slap on his very own birthday.

"What´s wrong?" you ask. Your voice brings him back to his cake, and he blows the candles excitedly, you have made this day very special, he´d hate to ruin it with his stupid tantrums.

As you both finish your slices, you reach down under the table to hand him a nicely wrapped box. "It´s for you!" Thaddeus smiles as he opens it... "Fucking finally!" He says out loud, which he didn´t mean to do, but he is just so excited and so... relieved? He thought he wasn't important enough yet, but here it is, and it's so pretty, it looks just like him! The man stands up to hug you, and you realize that your mission of making him enjoy his birthday has succeeded.

MASTERLIST

[drdemonprince]

#I wonder if this is a factor in public personalities going so off the rails so often#we are social creatures wired to respond to social feedback#when criticism is this irrational you have to filter it out or go crazy

No yeah this is EXACTLY what happens and it is a massive factor every single time. At a certain level of exposure, you cannot take in all the feedback that you get any more, because it is simply too much. It is overwhelming to keep up even if it is good feedback. If that many people are blowing smoke up your ass and telling you how wonderful you are all the time, it fucks with your head and makes you incredibly self-involved. If you get negative or critical feedback at the same scale... it makes you incredibly hostile and self-involved. The entire structure of these relationships being so focused on short-term social media metrics also conditions people to be constantly on edge, combing endlessly through comments, minimizing controversies before they explode, rewording things to not be misunderstood, placating people, questioning why something underperformed (could be sheer random chance, not everything you do is going to do amazing numbers! or maybe your star is falling and it's over and everybody hates you???), never allowing oneself to stop producing, responding to people in crisis who are in your inbox every single day, comparing what you are doing to what others are doing, wondering constantly what people think and have to say about you (and there is an endless amount to find!)... it imprisons you within yourself. it's a profoundly toxic way of relating to other human beings and of constantly thinking about oneself. no one should aspire to this stuff. it's not a good way to make art, it's not a good way to be a human being, and it is not politically useful at all either. it's just celebrity. turbo-charged. because before all this social media shit, even celebrities got to hide away for months at a time in between projects. this shit is fucking unhinged.

what are some of the craziest asks you've gotten lately. Just in general. there has to be some serious jawdroppers in there

somebody wrote this really long screed about how nothing ive said has ever been original and how much they hate constantly seeing my work on their feeds and it was scarily detailed and by the end you could tell they had like rage cummed abt it and said they felt relieved and were gonna go back to blocking me. get stuff like that all the time and sometimes its very divorced from reality and upsetting. but you know hearing abt peoples fetishes is v fun.

[sakuravalelp]

Don't eat anything else - Part 2 - DP X DC

Previous part

Masterpost

This is the only chapter where I'll tag people. Please, if you want to follow the story from this point on, follow the master post :).

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

"You both should stop eating the food." Came Babs voice through the comms. "Danny asked Tim to not eat anything else. We suspect the food may content poison."

Bruce subtly shared a look with Cass before returning to nodding at Masters' proud rambling about his latest contract. They had both stopped eating long ago. The soup was good; Masters’ words about Danny being a good cook weren’t a lie. However, Bruce couldn’t identify the chunks of meat in the soup.

He initially thought it was pork, though the texture seemed somewhat similar to veal. By the fourth piece of meat he ate, he could confidently say he didn't recognize it. When he looked at Cass, he saw her using her spoon to play with one of the pieces of meat on the edge of the plate, a frown hidden behind her polite smile. He was sure then that the meat couldn't be one they had tasted before.

Bruce has tasted every kind of meat that should be available to Masters. He has even tasted exotic meats that Masters would probably never encounter, having represented humanity in intergalactic meetings as Batman. Not being able to identify the meat discouraged Bruce from eating more, and it seemed to have had the same effect on Cass. They had kept their food mostly untouched, using the excuse of waiting for Tim and Danny to return before eating. It was a good call; the meat being poisoned could be the reason it was unrecognizable.

"If any of you feel any symptoms, turn off your comm." None of them made a move to do so, and after a couple of minutes Babs continued, "I'll call Bruce in 10 minutes to create an excuse for you guys to leave."

Bruce would have liked to think that they had not yet consumed enough poison for it to affect them, but there's always the possibility of it being a delayed-effect poison. If Masters' plan with the poison was to kill them, then a delayed-effect poison would allow Masters to avoid being immediately connected to their deaths.

However, Masters shouldn’t have a reason to kill Bruce Wayne and his wards. Unless the man had discovered that they were investigating his contracts, which Bruce doubted. It was more likely that the poison was some sort of chemical restraint or chemical submissive, which would explain why Masters' contracts always seemed to end ridiculously in his favor. It would be easy to make such deals with someone who was drugged to be more agreeable with you.

Not that Bruce would be willing to take the risk to find out, especially with Cass having also ingested the tainted meat. He was glad he had brought the poison antidote kit with him. Despite this, Bruce wasn't sure about cutting the visit short, at least not for all of them. Tim had been gone with Danny for a while now, and if Danny had informed Tim about the food, they were probably exchanging information at the moment. Maybe Tim was in the process of offering Danny help, and Bruce didn't want to interrupt that.

"Renovations will be starting next week, and I'm sure the place will end up being quite popular," Masters finally finished his rambling.

"It sure sounds like it will. You certainly got yourself a great deal with Kensington, Mr. Masters. I'm curious, what is your negotiation method?" Bruce asked, hoping to gather more information.

Masters had been surprisingly adept at avoiding any conversation about the negotiations themselves, always sidetracking the discussion or giving half-answers. Drugs in the food was a good hypothesis and would be the best outcome for them, as such substances usually shouldn’t take too long to get out of their system.

Yet, it didn't explain how Masters' business partners seemed to stay committed to their contracts long after they were made. The furthest they had gotten from them was confusion about how they had reached the point where they accepted the contract's conditions. However, they all seemed convinced they had gotten the best outcome possible, despite obviously getting the short end of the stick.

It pointed to something besides drug usage. Maybe Masters got blackmail material from them while they were drugged? It would be easier to draw conclusions if Masters had even the smallest slip about it.

Masters smiled, taking a sip from his wine. "Ah, it takes years of practice, Wayne. It isn't something one can learn in a day, and only those with the capacity can master it," he said. Then, before Bruce could ask any follow-up questions, he continued, "Now, Daniel and young Mr. Drake sure seem to be taking their time."

"Oh, that doesn't surprise me," Bruce said, shaking his head with a fond smile, playing farther into his "Brucie" persona while lamenting the lost opportunities to get more leads on what Masters was doing. "They're around the same age. Surely they got distracted talking about whatever is of interest to kids their age these days."

"I would be glad if my godson got along so well with your son, Mr. Wayne," Masters said with a practiced smile, though a hint of calculation flickered in his eyes. He gestured vaguely with his wine glass, his tone deceptively sympathetic. "The loss of his family hasn't been easy for him, and building a connection with someone like Mr. Drake could be beneficial. However, it is quite rude to leave the guests waiting. As his guardian, I must address this. I’ll go search for them." Masters stated, standing up from his seat.

Luckily, Bruce didn't need to interject to stop Masters from interrupting his son's conversation with Danny, since the two boys appeared by the door as if summoned by Masters' comment. Danny visibly tensed the moment he spotted Masters standing in his place.

"Daniel, it's good you're finally back. I was about to go search for you," Masters said, throwing Danny a stern look.

Danny opened his mouth, probably about to apologize for the wait, but Tim beat him to it.

"So sorry, Mr. Masters. I had to take a shower before changing clothes."

"Oh, don't worry about it, Mr. Drake," Masters said as he looked Tim up and down, evaluating if what Tim was saying was true. His eyes lingered on Tim's wet hair for a moment, and the tension in his eyes relaxed a bit. "It is Daniel's fault for throwing the soup on you. Now, shall we continue with the dinner?" Masters sat once more on his chair.

"Should—" Danny started, slightly stuttering when Masters' eyes returned to him. "Should I serve new portions? Since the ones on the table are probably cold by now?" the intensity of Masters gaze increased with every word Danny said. In response, Danny lowered his gaze to the floor, and shifted nervously.

Danny's voice was way too small by the end of his sentence, but Bruce could sense some hidden urgency in his tone. Remembering that Danny was the one who had warned them about the food, Bruce could infer that he was trying to further prevent them from eating it. It gave Bruce the impression that Masters had also caught onto that fact, given how tense the man was.

He was grateful for the kid doing their best to protect them, but lamented putting them in a position where they had to risk confronting their abuser. Bruce really hoped Tim had convinced Danny to leave with them. It shouldn't be difficult to create a reasonable invitation for Danny after Masters' comment about how he was isolating himself.

"Good idea," Cass said with a gentle smile directed at Danny before Masters could make any move.

Masters' eyes narrowed slightly, but then he nodded. "Very well. Daniel, go ahead."

As Danny hurried to the kitchen, Bruce shared a subtle glance with Tim, who was retaking his seat beside Cass. Unfortunately, instead of the nod indicating that they could get Danny to leave with them if they created the opportunity, Tim just shrugged. It wasn't the sign for Danny refusing help, but the one for things being more complicated than they seemed. Bruce sighed, and before Danny returned from the kitchen, his phone rang. He excused himself to answer Babs' call, lamenting not being able to take Danny with them.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Bruce came back from his brief call with Babs with a worried face that Cass knew wasn't the one he made when actual "family emergencies" happened. It was exagerated and dramatic, it screamed "something terrible had happened," and was perfect for this kind of situations. Bruce quickly ushered Cass and Tim out, apologizing to Masters for the hasty departure. They barely had time to say goodbye to Danny, who had hurried back from the kitchen after Masters had shouted about seeing off the guests.

Cass noticed a subtle shift in Danny’s demeanor as they prepared to leave. His shoulders dropped slightly, and there was a fleeting look of relief in his eyes. However, that relief was overshadowed by the palpable fear that clung to him; his tense posture betrayed the anxiety he was trying to hide. It was hard to leave him behind, and Cass almost ran back when she caught sight of Vlad’s possessive hand on Danny’s shoulder and his venomous, angry eyes as she was walking out the door.

As soon as they were in the car, Tim immediately began checking the vehicle and himself for hidden microphones, with Bruce and Cass following his lead with little more than a raised eyebrow. Tim’s decision to search for bugs made sense once he explained that Danny’s room had been bugged,

"Honestly, Danny's so careful with his actions and words everywhere, I wouldn't be surprised if the whole property is bugged."

The drive back to the house they had rented was tense, the atmosphere in the car thick with unspoken concerns. Tim decided to use the ride home to update them on what he had seen. In turn, Bruce spoke about the dinner with Masters, detailing their regrettable failure to extract any additional information from the man. The evening ultimately boiled down to the suspicion that the food had been poisoned. Cass remained silent, not feeling up to talking.

She had her doubts about the food being poisoned; even if the poison hadn't shown any symptoms, her past training should have allowed her to identify it if she had consumed it. It seemed unlikely that Masters possessed a poison so sophisticated that she couldn’t detect it, and the thought only deepened her unease. She though back to how their hosts acted at the start of the dinner.

Danny looked like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. His eyes darted nervously between them and Masters, his hands trembling slightly as he served the food. The guilt and fear radiating from him were almost palpable, as if he believed he was committing an unforgivable sin by offering them the meal.

Masters, however, didn’t seem like he was planning to poison them. He behaved more like Damian’s classmates had when they once tried to trick him into eating non-vegan food at a gala. His smile was too easy, his gestures too casual, like someone who thought they were pulling off a harmless but cruel prank. It felt like he was purposely feeding them something he knew was outside their comfort zone and ethical beliefs, testing their reactions with a detached amusement.

From the very beginning, Cass had felt a deep discomfort about the food. The way Masters and Danny acted around it had set off her internal alarms. When she took the first bite of the meat, something immediately felt off. The texture was unfamiliar, and the taste was oddly unsettling—not in a way that clearly indicated poison, but in a manner that was subtly disturbing, she didn't know what she was eating. It made her skin crawl, and she couldn’t bring herself to take another bite.

The car coming to a stop in the house’s garage jolted Cass out of her thoughts. They all exited the vehicle, and Jason’s motorcycle was parked beside them as he opened the door. tightly clenched jaw. Like the rest of them, he was frustrated by their inability to take Danny with them, but he wasn’t vocalizing it because he was also worried about what they had eaten.

Once the door was opened, Bruce was ready to rush into his bedroom to get the poison antidote kit, but Jason stopped him,

"Hold on old man, I want to know what the note the kid gave Tim says. It may even say what poison was used; save us time."

"Mnn" Bruce said with a slight nod, and Tim started unfolding the paper in response.

The folded paper was as small as a pinky, but once unfolded, it revealed a full letter-sized sheet, and the text filled at least half of it. Tim skimmed the text as he usually did before reading aloud, but his face quickly drained of color. His eyes widened in horror and disgust. Instead of reading aloud, he kept running his eyes over the first line repeatedly, his gaze darting between Bruce and Cass. His jaw was clenched tightly, and he struggled to keep his composure, fighting against the bile rising in his throat. Cass couldn’t help but frown deeply, a growing sense of dread settling in as she wondered what the paper could possibly contain.

"Forgot how to read, replacement?" Jason said, his tone lacking its usual edge. He stood beside Tim, his expression a mix of uncertainty and concern, unsure whether to reach for the paper or not.

Tim takes a shudering breath, and Cass herself can't help but shift in her place, her anxiety growing, as they all wait for Tim to gain back his voice and finally read what Danny's note says.

"The meat on the food is human meat." Tim finally says with a strained voice.

There's a moment of silence in the room. Cass keeps her eyes on Tim, hoping, pleading, to find any signs that what she heard is wrong, but Tim only repeats the sentence. Her stomach churns violently as bile rises in her throat. Without effort, she sinks to the ground, her legs giving out as she begins to vomit. The pounding of her heart fills her ears, as black dots fill her sight and her hands tremble uncontrollably. She is dimly aware of Bruce doubling over beside her, and the sound of Jason hitting the wall.

She ate human meat. It may have just been a bite, but she ate human meat. The dinner had been made from human meat. Her mind recoiled at the abhorrent thought. The thought of the soup they were served makes her vomit once more. She gasps for air, her body shaking as she fights against the rising tide of revulsion, desperately trying to rid herself of the lingering taste and the horrifying realization of what they ingested. She feels Tims hand doing smalls circles in her back and realizes that tears had been falling from her face.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Danny's hands trembled as he injected himself with another dose of ectoplasm. The shaking made the syringe jab painfully as he withdrew it, causing drops of blood and ectoplasm to fall to the floor while the injury quickly healed. Ten minutes of continuous electrical shocks wasn’t the worst punishment he had received from Vlad, but it had the most severe drawbacks. His body had a harder time recovering from electrical damage than from any other kind of harm, and Vlad often exploited this weakness.

He took a deep breath as the last of the Lichenberg marks disappeared from his legs and arms, leaving only the ones he’d gotten from his death. He sat on the bathroom floor, staring at the ceiling, his legs and arms still trembling. He wasn’t sure if the tremors were from the electrical aftershocks or his own anxiety. Vlad had been furious about his little stunt with the soup and had once again reminded him that they weren't eating Danny’s friends because he was such a "compassionate guardian."

The reminder had thrown Danny into a couple of panic attacks once he was allowed to return to his room. He thanks he's advanced dissociative abilities for not having those panics attacks in front of Vlad. He doesn't wan't to know how the man would try to exploit that.

But even as his whole body trembles and aches, he doesn’t regret his decisions. This is his only chance for things to change. The Waynes are a powerful family with connections to the Justice League. While the League has not interfered with what has happened in Amity Park up till now, they might get involved if the Waynes reach out to them. It’s wishful thinking, and he’s risking a lot, but this gut-wrenching dinner has become the first glimmer of hope he’s had since his family’s death, and he’ll hold onto it with his half-life.

Once he's body stops trembling and he's head feels a bit clearer, he needs to text Sam and Tucker. He'll depend on them for this to not backfire on all denizens.

[dingledraw]

If you can’t handle cringe fail disco Crowley, you don’t deserve disco goddess Crowley!!! 😤💃🏻

[akkivee]

I love how in the BAT music video, when they're rocking the BAT hand symbol, it clearly shows off their personalities, how Kuukou is wild and acts larger than he is with his body spread out, Hitoya's chill but professional posture and Jyushi's dramatic flair. Also LOVE Kuukou using a naginata/kwan dao (i cant tell which one) thats so good

and the way their bodies move too, kuukou’s just as kinetic as his hand movements, jyushi’s body is really still but it accentuates his hand movements and hitoya’s rocker soul is bleeding thru with how he’s jamming while keeping his hand movements sooo sharp ITS SO GOOD 😭😭😭😭

also i think kuukou’s using a giant calligraphy brush??? to ig do a paint over as a change the world metaphor as per the lyrics during that scene, here’s hayama-san with what i think kuukou’s got lol

[some-pers0n]

I think people who respond with "you gotta create for yourself!!" when a person says that they feel bad that they don't get comments or feedback when they post are missing the point a lot of the time, especially with fanart. These people are creating for themselves and do enjoy it, but they also want a response. They want some recognition for their effort, because nothing feels better as an artist than when somebody says they like your work. Nothing feels as validating and fun as having someone acknowledge you and say they like it.

It's hard to create without that aspect. Art is about creation, but also collaboration and community. Chances are that really cool artist you really like will be encouraged to make even more of that cool stuff if you tell them that you like it 'cause, guess what, people generally like getting compliments and told they did a Good Job when they Did the Thing

[foreverxdaydreaming]

x

[tj-crochets]

Do you have a particular organization you work with for providing disaster relief?

At the moment, no. My dad and several of my neighbors have been helping out with various local groups, but so far my donations have been things like clothes I had on hand that happened to be the size my neighbor's coworker, who lost their house in a flood, needed, or stuff like that The baby blankets are going to a different neighbor's kid's school, who is arranging donations for...I think it's a particular city but I am not sure how to reveal what city without giving away where I live more precisely than I really want to? I live close enough to the flooding that I don't really need to work with an organization, because everyone in my neighborhood is at max two degrees of separation from someone who lost everything in the floods. I can give things, including baby blankets, directly to the families affected. I mean, that said, I am giving them to my neighbors to distribute, but that's because I can't drive and a lot of the places donations are going you can't drive to at the moment anyway. One of my neighbors is organizing people with ATVs to go take food, water, fuel, and other necessities up to some of the communities that currently have no road access I got very, very lucky with where I live and the infrastructure that happened to be in place*. There was severe flooding less than ten minutes away from where I live in more than one direction, but where I live made it and enough of the roads are intact to be able to get out. Some routes are more circuitous than they used to be, but it's still possible

*by happened to be in place I mean in my particular neighborhood and the work my dad has had done in our yard, not the rest, I know a lot of people over a lot of years made the infrastructure of the larger area

[martyrbat]

so many of you talk about the cruel adults in your childhood that negatively effected you and caused lifelong insecurity yet you're still perfectly fine with being that mean stranger to any kid that has the misfortune of existing around you and thats just really gross !!!

[skeletons-in-ur-closet]

i fear i may actually be bad at my job

[daisybell-on-a-carousel]

Theyre going to think I like canon and purely canon if I keep going on like this

[eremes]

i havent made a post in a bit hello. i went to Anime Central last weekend and hung out with some friends it was very fun. traveling is scary because i have "Agoraphobia" and "Panic Disorder" but i did it. i dont like airports. umm yay

[bitterseadrop-a]

y'all if you wanna unfollow me ?? or i follow first and you don't want to interact ?? for literally whatever reason ?? that's totally fine.

only thing i ask is that you hardblock me, especially if it's a follow first from my side. i understand if you don't want to interact, you're entitled to curate your dash to your own needs. but i don't wanna stand here like an idiot or seem obnoxious by following again after i've already been soft-blocked, because 9/10 i won't remember if i've followed you before.

and if you have hardblocked me and change your mind one day, wanting to interact ?? i'm cool with that as well. i won't ask questions. heck even if you shouldn't be feeling any interactions at the moment but want to interact at a later point, you're free to shoot me a dm or just follow back 5 years down the line.

[parakeetpark]

I've finally cracked and I'm learning how to mod skyrim. My poor laptop doesn't deserve to suffer so I'm downloading the unofficial patch, and at most 10 mods....What made me crack was the repetitive dialogue ngl... BUT, this will NOT become like Stardew Valley where I have 350 mods and got really into it bc Skyrim is too... much work and possible issues for that