#I want my CP to be happy
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lirotation ¡ 3 months ago
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Somehow I went from "smitten lover" to "overprotective mother-in-law"… Character development?🤣
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kurikorso ¡ 4 months ago
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nostalgia slapped me upside the head a little while ago so i had to draw my favorite dudes ft. the gecko effect
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marsvs-thesun ¡ 1 year ago
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I am once again thinking about a creepypasta human!AU with time travel so I'm gonna put it out there:
Basically, the creepys' canon events(tm) haven't happened yet but theyre rapidly approaching (for example, Ben already has a bad home life, but he's still, yk, alive), except instead of being isolated by their circumstances they end up finding each other before that's meant to happen, and the probability of them turning to murder starts to decrease as a result of the sudden appearance of A Support System.
So things are sightly better except the universe/slender/whatever-force-needs-teenage-murderers seeks to right itself and that leads to the ACTUAL creepypastas (their future selves) showing up to try and convince them that murder is good, actually. And, since they're not great at debates, convincing here stands for the occasional kidnapping and/or murder. (And that's not counting all the creepys who would leave everything behind for another chance at life, revenge, or whatever else).
There's SO much I want to say about this that I cant articulate it's just,,,, betraying your younger self. Being face to face with your own inhumanity. Finding love in the most hateful places. I'm a little insane about this.
Anyways, I've had this thing in my head for YEARS now. Don't think it will ever be a thing. But it's fun to think about!
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thedevilundercover ¡ 6 months ago
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The bat kids should threaten to get adopted by Tim every time Bruce is being a dickhead or just an inconvenience in anyway shape or form. Tim is paranoid enough to have his foster license and probably overthinks it enough to have Gotham CPS under his control. (Some people are bribing the cops while this man is bribing CPS smh.)
And like when Bruce over steps, they’re like “ok then, Tim’s my new dad now. “ Then they go camp out at Tim’s place for a while.
Usually the younger ones (+Cass) do this but it’s even more hilarious when Dick and Jason catch on to this. I think that Jason would do it first tho
Like imagine if Bruce refused to give Jason money for ammo or smth:
Bruce, literally so tired bc of this: Jaylad, for the last time, I’m not giving you money to buy real bullets. I'd be happy to buy you the rubber ones.
Jason, the most extra, dramatic younger-sibling-turned-older-sibling: Ok then, I get it, you don’t love me anymore. I can take a hint. You know what? I’ll do you a favour and get myself adopted by Tim *cue fake sniffles and dramatic exit*
Bruce, so so tired this has happened like twenty times this week already and it’s Wednesday: Oh my god why does he keep stealing my kids what the fuck
Tim also has no concept of money so he just shrugs, hands them his black amex and lets them do whatever the fuck they want
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bloggerspam ¡ 4 days ago
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Prompt: Against Danny's wishes, Bruce attempts to gain custody of him. Danny responds by fleeing.
Found in the @haunting-heroes-creative-games discord server. Rabbit, I don't know your tumblr, but this one goes out to you.
EDIT: @rabpitpie HAS REVEALED THEMSELVES
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"I am not homeless." Danny petulantly mutters. He's a runaway. There is a difference, even if Danny is smart enough not to voice that out loud.
Bruce Wayne, for some god forsaken reason, does not listen.
"Okay, I understand, but your parents—"
"Do not talk about my parents." Danny grits his teeth, struggles to keep his fangs in check.
Bruce puts his hands up in surrender, placating. "Amity Park authorities say that Vlad is your new guardian, because he was named your godfather."
Danny just about stops himself from growling. "Vlad is full of shit."
Bruce ignores him. "But the documents were shoddy at best, and as Jack's—your father's cousin and a registered foster parent, your teacher thought it was pertinent that I was at least informed."
At that, Danny stills. Mr. Lancer? He would be the only one…
"And I want to help you, Daniel."
"Danny." Danny unthinkingly corrects, before he scowls. He was too distracted by thoughts of Lancer to keep himself in check.
"Danny," Bruce smiles, "Will you come to Wayne Manor? The other kids would be happy to have you around. The more the merrier I say!"
Danny eyes the hand offered to him. One one hand, anyone is better than Vlad. On the other hand, billionaire to billionaire isn't exactly and upgrade. Plus, Sam has always said that there was something off about the Waynes.
The rich always had a facade, but Sam was never sure why they would hide the preferable (in her opinion) part. Being seen as a smart businessman would be good for Wayne Enterprises. It's fishy that he would act so dopey, it reeks of tricking people into letting their guards down.
As far as Tuck knew, it wasn't like they were making shadey deals, so why the subterfuge?
Speaking of his friends. His chest vibrates. It's unnoticeable to the outside, but to Danny it buzzes through him. His "chest of holding" as Tucker calls it, has the burner phone Sam had gotten him ages ago, when they couldn't deny it anymore and had to make plans for Danny to flee the city.
Getting CPS called on him was not in the plan.
But then again, it's better than Vlad or the GIW.
Danny forces himself to relax, minutely and slowly, it would be suspicious if he were suddenly amiable, and takes a deep breath. He feigns having to war with himself, to weigh his pride and safety.
He reaches over begrudgingly, to Bruce's soft smile and firm handshake.
He just needs a moment. A single, solitary moment. He lets himself be led out of the room, stiff as Bruce gently guides him with a hand on his back.
The man smells of leather and machine oil. Through Danny's senses, he gets ghosts of bats in a well, in a cave, of comradery in space, of kevlar and—
Flashes of Val, smiling bright enough to match her ever present yellow tanktop, growling through the blackened visor of a red suit, sitting next to him in borrowed clothes and showing him her hoverboard as a sign of truce.
Billionaires, Danny thinks, smell of cologne and money.
They do not, Danny thinks, have polite ghosts waiting for them in the hallway, following them like silent bodyguards, tugging on their expensive shirt sleeves and smiling as if they have saved them, even in death.
Bruce Wayne, Danny thinks, is not all that he claims to be.
But it's not Danny's business if Batman wants to take Danny into his home.
What Batman wants, what Bruce Wayne wants, is irrelevant.
Danny gets in the car and watches through his periphery as a white car silently follows them to the airport.
The seatbelt sign dims with a soft ding as the plane cruises at altitude. Danny wordlessly gets up to use the bathroom, pointing towards it when Bruce hums a questioning tune.
Danny disappears the second he gets the bathroom door closed.
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anotherneworld ¡ 1 year ago
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Being sad that the vibes are off, but being overjoyed that the light of my life has been returned to me.
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satansappendix ¡ 2 years ago
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Eulogy
#soap spoilers#okay so now my aunt who was gonna write the eulogy backed out because shes 'sick'#99 degree fever#anyway they asked me to write it but i cant#like im not the person to write it for my father#i have no good memories of him i tried thinking of some on monday when it was pretty clear he was gonna die#but i couldnt#i really couldnt#all i ciuld think of was when he got cps called on us because my broyher said he hit him but it was a secret#or how he yelled at me for falling off the sea wall and thats how he showed he cared#or how he snapped his phone in half because he wanted a new one and thought my mom would get him one if he did that#i have no good memories eith this man#if i push and pull i can manipulate memories into at least okay memories#i can say one time (when i was 16) he asked me what i wanted to be when i grew up (he was drunk one weekend)#and we talked about science and how he wanted to do that but then life took a different course#but theres so much pruning their its deceptive and for what?#ive been hurt so much vy him#i dont have stories about how he walked through a blizzard to be with my mom or whatever#i literally dont have happy memories so im not the person to write a eulogy i cant im not the right person#he did so much fucked shit to me and wasbt there for me in so many ways thst i cant even. pretend to have good memories#maybe yhey happened maybe i was there for skme of the good times but i dont remember so it doesnt feel like thats true you know#apparently at one point he was getting treatment and was doing good but i was too young to remember#my sister maybe does so you know she at lesst got a dad thatvwas better#but i cant pretend im not bitter and jealous abd mad avout what I never got how he bever apologized or changed how it didnt feellikehecared#so no im not the person to write a eulogy for him so dont try to make me it wont go well all that will happen is i will get mad abd cry#so lets not and say we did or whatever
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art-lokiitama ¡ 1 month ago
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✨ Ghouls and Gangs!!! ✨
Chapter 2 of Ghosts, Legacies and CPS is upon us and I'm so happy I got to make not one, not two, but THREE illustrations for it!
I was so excited about this one, you have no idea! It's my favorite of the three, Danny and Damian's swordplay was a delight to draw. It truly makes me want to draw some more action scenes. @aceface98 and @karnia-queen's chapter are a very, very large pool of inspiration <3
(This is part of the @dpxdcbigbang!)
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hoseoksluna ¡ 15 days ago
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THE BALL OF LIGHT, ii. | jjk
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pairing: friend!jeongguk x fem!oc
genre: angst
word count: 4.2k
summary: inside jeongguk's apartment is where you meet the possibility of life.
pin: ball of light / taglist: join / discord: join / masterlist: run
cp: ao3 / wp
warnings: mentions of smoking and vaping, described nudity, oc feels a lot of emotions and she's overwhelmed, guilt.
note: i really enjoyed writing this chapter and it opened my eyes actually to where it's going. i hope you like the chapter as well. writing about jungkook is my biggest comfort. i feel at home. i love you, guys. happy reading. don't forget to tell me what you think. i'd appreciate it if you tell me ur expectations. <3
side note: i also want to update my taglist because i feel like most of the people i tag haven't allowed themselves to be tagged on this app. if you want to be tagged in my works, let me know. in comments below or my askbox.
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It seems as though Jeongguk is still turning your words over his heart once you arrive at his apartment and the sullen grayness of his personal space greets you. A certain pensive look, embellished with a wrinkle between his brows, paints him in the shades of stark reclusiveness, the unapproachability of that façade the blue highlights that make the current inertia of his usual hyperactivity uncannily animated. It’s an oxymoron, the stillness of his being, despite the fact you very vividly sense the turmoil happening inside his chest.
Turmoil must be second-nature to him. Almost like a friend.
You don’t know what to say. The downturned corners of his mouth are so engraved into your vision that when you look away, you can still see them. Sad and pouty, caused in most probability by the truth you uttered. War happens, Jeongguk, if Yoongi and I see each other outside of the walls of our home. Those were the most heart-felt, authentic words that were flung out of the chambers of your heart because—yes, if Yoongi were to know that you smoke one cigarette a day with a boy with a nicotine-addiction, a motorcycle and a tendency to go back to people who have spread agony down his lungs like the white fumes of his cigarettes, he would get up from the kitchen table and grab the nearest knife, start a war for your dream that, according to him, got interrupted by temporary, meaningless things.
But Jeongguk isn’t meaningless. You thought for the longest time that he was temporary, but his lingering presence through high school and now through uni convinced you of the opposite. You believe now, now as he bends at the waist to place a pair of pink, fuzzy slippers with a yummy fried egg on top in front of your icy-cold, socked feet, that he has more shape—the eyes of an angel born wrong, born human, the mouth of a saint that fears to say the wrong thing—than your dream does.
Your dream doesn’t have a face.
Your dream doesn’t have a meaning, either.
Yoongi knows this, pretends he knows the contours of that dream when he tells you to go study. Pretends he knows the color of its flesh, all the greens, purples and blues, when the only words he throws your way are of commanding nature. Come eat. Go shower. Go study. Don’t. You can’t recollect the last time you had a genuine conversation with him that did not include those very words.  
It’s exhausting. Your bones are burdened by it—by being treated as a student and not as a human being. But you ignore this because you respect him, hold him in high regard because of his own burden, laid heavy across the length of his shoulders that have become too thin, too skeletal, that have once been broad, beautiful and ogled by those, who had the luck to encounter him. 
He doesn’t go to the gym anymore, to fill the mass of his muscles with exercise. He works long hours doing food delivery to fill your tummy instead. 
And it’s hard—balancing your respect for him and your ostensibly inner desire to go in search of the things you read about in your books. You can’t help but expect to dig them out, selfishly, in Jeongguk. The kind, now somber, boy who has been by your side for so long. With words and simultaneously without. 
Would Yoongi understand? Doesn’t he, also, have a need for company? 
You push those thoughts away and focus on the clandestiny. On Jeongguk’s frown, on his adorable pout, on his emotions. Because perhaps in it you shall find your destiny. 
Jeongguk walks forward and you swell with the guilty need to fix what you’ve broken, to glue back the pieces that put together his traditional cheer. The tree in you shivers in cold. Your own bones are still frosty like that bus stop you both escaped from. But glancing at the span of his shoulders, drooped and rolled forward, the guilt expands, making you think that maybe you shouldn’t have said something, despite the fact the truth made a dent in the birdcage you have been dwelling in since the death of your parents. 
He empties out his pockets. Wallet, keys, phone, a pack of cigarettes, lighter and a pink, fat vape that you’ve never seen him smoking before. He places those essentials on the kitchen counter, stretching his hands backwards and ridding himself of his beige hoodie. The T-shirt he wears underneath rides up, exposing the smooth and muscled skin of his back, and your throat dries up at the sight. The tree stills, pacified by the movement of his shoulder blades. It puts a spell on you, this innocent yet consumingly heated view of a male’s body, one that continues burning down your body even when he grabs a hold of the hem of his T-shirt and pulls it down. 
Somehow, the act made it hotter. 
Your fingers wrap around your throat, a habit of yours that helps you compose yourself, ground yourself in the severity of the moment. Jeongguk reaches his hand towards the kitchen counter again and as you swallow with great difficulty, he fills his lungs with that scented fume before discarding it.
It isn’t until your breath comes out in pathetic staccatos that he turns around. Large eyes heavily lidded, clouded by that white smoke as he exhales. He purses his lips, dimples on full show, in order to make the smoke thinner. And that, the eye contact while blowing out the fumes, his full attention on you, the element that you’re here—in a boy’s apartment, all alone, for the first time, that warms up your bones, the frost melting away. You feel your body form little pearls of perspiration, overwhelmed and so suddenly overheated by his boyish beauty. 
He’ll never know—just like Yoongi. He’ll never know what he does to you. 
“I’m gonna make you some tea so you can get warm,” he says, softly, and shuffles his feet towards the brightly lit kitchen. You hear the water running, the clapping noise of the kettle being shut and then the boiling bubbles, but you’re frozen—red-hot and frozen—in the place you’re standing, unable to move, unable to breathe, unable to be a normal human being. “You’re free to take a shower if you want.” 
A headache pierces through your undeveloped frontal lobe. Nothing about this is normal to you—being over a guy’s place, using his shower and his towel, drinking his tea. Being at home all the time never prepares you for this and while you feel so out of place, it also evokes the feeling of thrill. 
This is thrilling. 
And it should stay feeling that way, but your guilt eclipses it so quickly. Your guilt and your self-pity. Due to Yoongi, due to the fact that this should feel normal and that you should act normally. How many girls must’ve been in your place and how well they were able to talk to him and accept his kindness and hospitality without being weird about it. 
You run a hand down your face. Feel like crying. Feel like screaming. Feeling like slapping yourself so you snap out of it and act normal. Yoongi flickers in your chest, however, and you’re reminded that you should let him know where you are. Usually, at this hour, you’re settled in your cage. Right there in the corner, the only warm spot because you sit there all the time. But you’re not there. You fit your body through the slivers, your feet rubbing against the different, more warmer floor than the one inside your birdcage, while your wrist remains chained to the center. 
Your bus, the number 59, never came. Jeongguk’s, number 60, was the last one that came due to the thickness of the snow and he said that you should get on with him so you don’t freeze on the bus stop. I’ll drive you home on my bike, he promised. I got a helmet for you. And you agreed, despite the fact your thumb was ready to dial Yoongi’s number, because it came natural to you to follow a male’s order. 
You scratch your fingernails through your scalp, waking yourself up from the stupor, and you take a deep breath. You’re here and you’re safe. Jeongguk is the safest person you can go behind Yoongi’s back with. These are the words you internally repeat to yourself as you lift one leg and the other, watching where they take you. 
You wind up at the very edge of the counter where all of Jeongguk’s essentials lay scattered. You go to study all the charms hung over his keys when your fingers, somehow instinctively, take a hold of his pink vape. Light and pink, fitting just right in the palm of your hand. Your clandestine habits are invariably seen by Jeongguk, however. 
“Don’t puff on that,” he says, pouring the boiling water inside the kettle over your cup of tea. A Christmas-themed one, evidently for adults only. The taupe Gingerbread man has a raging, bare boner that sticks out to the side whilst his hands are lifted, cheerfully, in the air. Your mouth parts, blush coloring your cheeks in dusty pink, and your brain, bizarrely, connects the Gingerbread man’s emotion to Jeongguk—both emotions, in fact. So bizarrely that anger begins to grow in you because a picture of Jeongguk’s own happy boner pops up before your eyes. Big, hard, leaking. Your stifling heat descends to your lower regions and you have to rub your eyelids in order to stop seeing it, your cheeks scalding, embarrassingly hot. “It’s not good to mix it.” 
Without asking, he places one spoon of sugar inside that obscene cup, stirring it diligently. And the clinking noise rams a clapping monkey inside your brain. 
You’ll die. From this headache, from the heat, from how irresistible this boy is. 
You’ve never felt this way before towards him. Never seen him in this lustful light before. And you don’t know what to do—it’s towering you, so much bigger than you and you have very little strength to stand up to it. 
It’s not good to see your so-called friend like this. 
Jeongguk brings the cup over to you, placing it before his stuff. The Gingerbread man faces you, smiling ever so gleefully, and the blush of your cheeks deepens within this proximity. Jeongguk takes his vape from your hand and puffs on it—and your brain remembers what he just talked about. 
“But you mix it,” you say, your words dripping with confusion, and Jeongguk places the device back into your palm, the tips of his fingers brushing against your flesh. You regard it as intimate, that brief physical contact, and it speeds up your heartbeat. 
That touch-starved you are. 
“I shouldn’t, but I do,” he responds, his pretty eyelashes static, unblinking, those macadamia chocolate pools of his penetrating your pupils. “I try to stick to just one from time to time, but my nerves are asking for more.” 
You look down at the pink device, imagine it’s his hand that you’re closing your fingers over. Think his explanation has zero backbone, and so your confusion drips on. 
“Nerves?” you inquire, a wrinkle appearing between your brows akin to his, even though his has been smoothed out. It seems his act of service to you is slowly easing his sombreness. 
Jeongguk doesn’t want to elaborate, though. He flicks his eyes towards the cup and nods, just once, encouraging you to drink. You let out a quiet huff of a scoff. Consider it strange that he’s so unwilling to expand on this matter when he has shared with you in the past the reason behind his smoking habit. Trauma from his relationship with Ka-eun and the difficulty of his field. What else is behind those nerves of his that you can’t know about? 
You follow the trace of his gaze towards the cup, feeling smaller than you are. Incompetent, inexperienced for the vivacity, immensity of his life that looks nothing like yours. Your pointer finger pokes out, clicking against the emerald green handle. 
“Am I supposed to really drink from this?” you murmur, meaning it as a joke that would fix what you cooked in this situation, but it comes out much sadder than you planned, the hollowness from all of your lacks coating your vocal cords. 
Jeongguk scowls and turns the cup around, his brows springing upwards as he glances at the naked and aroused Gingerbread man. You begin to anticipate his laughter that would make you feel worse about yourself, but it never breezes through. 
Actually, Jeongguk apologizes. Makes a big deal out of it. 
“My God,” he sighs, adding your name, running his fingers through his hair before he puts the cup away, but you stop him by enveloping your fingers across the warm, naked skin of his forearm. His eyes widen en route to yours and he holds the misting cup in his hand, immune to its hot temperature. The good ones don’t get burned, your mother would say with hatefulness whenever your fingers would get burned by steaming cups and hot running water in the sink, and she proves you right in this moment. You bet she smiles in her grave, seeing from the afterlife that you are indeed bad while the others are good. “I didn’t notice. I have one just like this, but he’s dressed. I thought I’d pulled out that one. I’m sorry.” 
But you’re not scandalized by it. As a matter of fact, you like the little Christmas man—there’s something oddly comforting about his own comfort in his sexuality, smiling as gleefully as he is. What you said was a stupid joke, one that shouldn’t have left your mouth. 
“No, I don’t mind. It’s fine. It was just a joke,” you say, hurriedly, sweeping your eyes over his in the same pace whilst he remains calmly staring at you, a steady stream of thoughts filtering through those features of his that you wish you knew the contents of. 
You always said you’d die for knowledge, and right now you’d die to discover what he’s thinking about, looking at you the way that he is. 
He flattens his lips. “I’ll make you another one.” 
He turns around and you yelp your disagreement, cupping your hands around his. And the greater intimacy of this physical contact consumes you whole. 
The heat grows, your spine wet with perspiration. Jeongguk swivels his head back, the shorter pieces of his hair swooshing past his forehead, landing on those pretty, pretty eyelashes. And it’s his turn to part his mouth, for blush to creep up his pale cheeks, and your heart—it melts. 
You’ve never held hands with a boy before. And right now, you’ve come very close to doing it. In fact, the tender grip bears the resemblance of hand holding and you can’t take it. 
A pained, indistinct pout quivers on your lips. A characteristic expression of yours, which conveys that something has hurt you. Your mother would give you a hard time because of it and that’s how you learned that you do it. That’s how you learned how to fleetly hide it, too. 
This is the closest you’ll ever get. 
Tears rush to your waterline. You blink it away, stretching your lips into a little, neutral smile. The scent of cinnamon and cloves from the tea hits your nostrils and from the edges of your palms, you feel how hot the cup really is. It sobers you up quite rapidly. 
“It’s hot, set it down,” you breathe and don’t let go of his hands until Jeongguk complies, the pensiveness back to shadowing his face, but he’s not unapproachable, not at all. The entirety of his dispirited and contrite aura is welcoming, pastel blue instead of that grayish undertone, and he looks at you as if you held the entire world in your palms and he was content with just being near it, silently hoping you show him grace and give it to him. 
But that’s not you. You’re too small to cup this world. Too stupid, too unfledged. 
It’s him who’s flown around it, deeply acknowledged with it. Who’s smart, who’s a full-fledged bird, unlimited and unhindered. 
It’s you who should be looking at him like that and drinking from his vulgar cup. 
And you shall. 
“I’ll drink it, it’s cute.” 
He doesn’t trust it, though, and that’s the scar Ka-eun carved into the flesh of his mind. You brush the pads of your fingers across it, however, when you take the scalding cup to your lips, blow on it and take a small, hesitant sip of it. And the wintry taste of cinnamon and cloves, it is the sap to your tree. 
You hum in delight, taking another sip, even though the temperature burns the tip of your tongue. You watch as Jeongguk’s brows twitch and as a certain glimmering glint of endearment laced with unbelief fills his eyes with the canvas of stars. He straightens his spine while you swallow, his lungs inhaling and exhaling slowly but surely. 
It is a sight to behold, the entirety of his boyish beauty. And you hate that you regard him this way, that your forced visit caused this because you’ll walk out of this door with a longing entwined around your heart.
A longing for him to be yours. 
You set the cup down, cradling it in your palms, your sweat clinging to your body. Jeongguk averts his gaze and rubs his chest, roaming his eyes everywhere but on you, landing on the pink vape you placed on the counter before almost-holding his hand. 
But he doesn’t take a puff of it. Not this time. 
And you want to heal that scar of his even more. Only because he pushed you very close to the things you read in your books and always wanted to experience. 
“I think the tea tastes so good because you made it in this cup,” you chirp, tenderly, giving him a genuine smile, one that Jeongguk doesn’t reciprocate. That one corner of his mouth doesn’t lift, the long cleft of his dimple doesn’t appear. Your heart trembles for a brief moment. In a foreign kind of emotion that feels like fear but isn’t because the turmoil in him rages on and you’re useless. Completely and utterly useless in your efforts. 
His stare is deadly, marked by the depth of his thoughts. 
“Why did you say war happens if you and your brother see each other outside?” he asks, his tone low and grumbling. 
A frightening question. Because no one has ever asked you that. Because you’ve never had the chance to answer such an intimate, personal question. Because no one has ever cared about your home situation. 
The trembling of your heart reaches your entire body and you hide your hands behind your back. Lament that you can’t cradle the cup. Lament that you can’t drink it and postpone your response. Lament that you don’t have a normal life. One worth talking about happily, that is. 
You don’t know what to say. How to begin, how to string the words together in a way that he would understand. And it’s not that you fear that he will judge you; it’s that you fear that the way he looks at you, regards you will forever change. 
You were never the cool girl and you never were the weird girl, either. Somewhere in the middle you stand, solitary and detached, regardless. 
You open your mouth, willing the words to spring out of you on their own, without any careful thoughts to cover them. 
“Yoongi wants me to live a life that doesn’t look like this,” you start, mirroring his tone, unable to look him in the eye. You sense the demons of your guilt and your ungratefulness cornering you, coming closer and closer—and you can’t walk away, you can only speak.
Jeongguk, however, is quick and curt with his following question.  
“Like what?” 
The pearls of your perspiration thicken on the planes of your throat, which constricts. You blink, thinking that you don’t wish to offend him with any formulation of your sentences. So you go around it, hoping he understands. The demons inch closer—and you can’t breathe. 
Jeongguk doesn’t blink, focused intently as he is on the emotions written on your form. It creates a delicate, yet protective ring around you that keeps the demons outside. And he lessens your strange fear owing to that.
“He wants me to focus on school and focus on my dream while he takes care of everything else. It was a deal he made between us. I study, he works. Nothing else,” you continue, and Jeongguk bites his lip, nodding in understanding as he glides his eyes down your face to your sweat-coated neck. For some reason, that little act of his acknowledgement dispels those demons—and you no longer feel guilty, you no longer feel ungrateful because Jeongguk validated those emotions, didn’t scrunch his nose at them. And that heals, little by little, your wounded, flightless bird wings. 
“What does your dream look like?” he asks once again, and you wonder at the formulation of his question. It’s not what’s your dream; he’s asking for a description of the biggest mystery of your life. 
And you chuckle, humorlessly. Jeongguk flicks his gaze back to your eyes, seemingly not knowing what to expect.
“That’s the thing,” you say. “I don’t know what it looks like, and Yoongi doesn’t know either.” 
The roundness of his eyelids spasms, as if the truth you just uttered irks him. The validation grows and buds of blossoms sprout open, in the middle of this sunless winter, upon the twigs of the tree within you. 
“He doesn’t know what your dream is and yet he decided how you should live,” Jeongguk scoffs, shaking his head, and you marvel at the light bursting in your sternum. It is the sun to your growth, to your tree’s growth. 
A moment of bliss that is too brief, for you begin to sense an uncompromising responsibility to stand up for your brother. He means well—he’s doing it out of the love and kindness of his heart as the root of this declared problem is literature. 
And literature is your life. It’s all you know. 
You begin to say these words, but Jeongguk interrupts you. 
“I understand, but you need to live a life that you want to live,” he rasps, standing taller than he was a minute ago, greater and powerful than he ever was. That confident and assured he is in his opinion and you gawk at him as if he were a cult leader, about to change the course of your life. Maybe, just maybe, the cinnamon tea was the kool aid—and you want to drink again, but you’re ashamed of the trembling of your hands. “And if you feel like you’re indebted to him, you shouldn’t. You’re an adult. It’s your life, it’s not his just because he’s older.” 
Your throat dries and you risk it all, enveloping your fingers around the cup. Jeongguk’s all seeing eye notices your movement and his powerfulness drops. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. 
Bare, bare you are all for him to see. For anyone for the first time in your life—and at this point, you don’t even know how it makes you feel. 
Where light and so many emotions were inside you, emptiness falls like fine dust. You’re reminded of that one sentence in White Nights and, quietly, you reflect on it while your fingers tremble on. 
My God, a moment of bliss. Why isn’t that enough for a whole lifetime? 
Jeongguk makes space, like the ring of protection he created around you, by taking a few steps back and leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms over his chest and simply looks at you, reads your body language, and lingers at your hands. At the fact you don’t drink. At the fact you don’t speak. At the fact that nothing will ever be the same after this conversation. 
When he asks his last question, he softens his voice. His demeanor, too. Allows his arms to plummet down to his sides. Sags against the counter. 
“He doesn’t know we’re friends, does he?” 
Something that resembles a cry leaves your mouth and you’re so shocked by the freedom of your emotions that your hand leaps to cup your mouth, as if to hold back any more outpouring. That is your reaction. 
Jeongguk’s is more earth-shattering. 
By his instinct, he lengthens his spine and his hand… his beautiful, strong and veiny hand jerks towards your direction, as if to catch your hand, prevent it from hiding your outpouring—or as if to catch your outpouring alone. 
And it is so heartbreaking to you that you mutter the first thing that comes to your mind and run away. 
And you don’t realize where you are until you get a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. A mascara tear stains your cheek in blackness, and the smallness of the bathroom encloses around you. 
You want to wash it away. Feel like the decision is yours to make, a right one at that. Feel like it’s the first step in the new way Jeongguk bestowed over your life by his wise words. And so you undress. 
And you don’t lock the door. 
And you don’t hear your phone ringing ten minutes later. 
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starry-bi-sky ¡ 7 months ago
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tales of the passerine - danny fenton being bruce wayne's first kid
okay okay. so this is like a continuation/elaboration of my oneshot/prompt i wrote about the idea that Danny was the first batkid. We have a lot of aus where he joins the family after the rest of the bats do, right? So hey! Lets shake things up a bit. Danny is the first to be adopted by Bruce Wayne.
Danny's parents and unfortunately Jazz die shortly after the events of TUE -- how so? I was gonna say an ecto-filter explosion, that would call back to the TUE explosion and trauma behind that. But lets do something new! Carbon-monoxide poisoning.
It's not too unexpected for something to break in the Fenton house, especially with the Fenton parents' questionable understanding of proper weapon handling and lab safety. The water heater broke from a stray shot by one of the weapons, and was promptly MacGyver'd incorrectly. Danny went to stay with Tucker for a guys' night, and came back to a dead silent house.
(Danny's neighbors got a very unfortunate shock when he ran to the next house over in hysterics.)
There was a lot of shuffling around with CPS, the police. People had to be called in to handle the equipment in the lab, and the GIW was rumoring to show up in aid to clearing the scene. When Danny heard of that, he immediately went and dismantled the ghost portal to the best of his abilities. He burned the physical blueprints of all his parents' inventions, their blueprints on the ghost portal, and their most dangerous weapons were destroyed beyond recognition. Anything to prevent the GIW from getting their hands on his parents' tech.
It opened up another investigation, but he was not under the list of suspects. He was placed in the care of Vlad Masters, where they then went back to the rebuilt castle mansion in Wisconsin. Danny, terrified of the future that has once passed and may do so again, shuts down in his grief. Inadvertently, he ends up somewhat repressing his ghost half. Something Vlad, who is grieving Madeline but relishing in Jack's demise and his custody of Daniel, is not very happy with.
Vlad's... gone into a bit of a mental health spiral. He's becoming increasingly possessive over Daniel, the final remnants of his friends and a liminal being like him. He doesn't like that Danny's repressing his ghost half -- both out of genuine concern as a ghost, but also because of his desire to control Danny and groom him into the perfect son. If you ever had a phase where you read Dark SBI found family fics, first off; me too bro, and second off; those are the vibes I'm thinking of.
Danny's mentally shut down from grief! And fear. He's dropped into a bad depressive state -- paralyzed with grief and the terror of the inevitable. Clockwork saved his parents because he believes in second chances, but what's the point of that when his family ended up dead anyways? Danny doesn't wanna believe that he's destined to become evil, and he's holding out onto that hope, but it's a thin line, and he feels utterly hopeless and trapped. He hasn't used his powers or ghost form since he trashed the lab, and Vlad has alarms set up to prevent him from trying to escape.
He's also unintentionally cut off Sam and Tucker -- both of whom are so scared and concerned for Danny too, and are trying their damndest to reach out to him. He keeps ignoring their texts. Danny basically haunts Vlad's manor. He goes out to eat if he has to, attends parties Vlad drags him to, and stays in his room all day if he can.
At parties, Vlad doesn't allow Danny to leave his side, or really talk to anyone -- not that Danny wants to. A product of Vlad's increasing possessiveness. Well, he almost doesn't let Danny leave his side. Danny has a habit of slipping off to hide somewhere for the parties whenever he can, and Vlad reluctantly allows it so long as he stays alone.
This becomes an advantage when eventually, Bruce Wayne returns to Gotham after missing for years, and holds a bright charity ball to celebrate the return. Vlad has been chomping at the bits to get his hands on Wayne Industries, and with the return of its owner there is no better opportunity to wipe out his rival. He goes, and he as normal, brings Daniel with him.
Vlad thinks Wayne will bleed his little heart out for Daniel's poor orphan sob story -- he's a fellow orphan himself, after all. He's not wrong; Wayne's little heart will bleed, just not in the way that benefits him.
Bruce sees Vlad and Danny approaching before they're even close enough to introduce themselves - and like with many of the children he will soon come to care for, it's like someone set a mirror into the past right in front of him.
Danny Fenton's suit is tailor-made for him, and despite the fact that it's his perfect size, the sag in his shoulders, the ducked down head, and the way he hunches into himself all pictures the image of a child in shoes too big for him. There's a far away, glazed over look in his eyes and grief marble-cut into the lines of his face. There's not enough makeup in the world that will hide the dark circles under his eyes.
("My nephew, Daniel Fenton." Vlad's hands are possessive on Danny's shoulders. Bruce immediately notices the way the boy tenses under his touch. "His parents passed recently, and as his godfather I was designated his guardian.") ("I'm so sorry, the loss must've been terrible.") ("Yes, carbon-monoxide poisoning caused it. Daniel was out with friends, when he came home... they had already passed.") (Bruce immediately dislikes that Vlad shared the details of their death unprompted -- he likes it even less when Danny flinches at the reminder and hunches into himself.)
Danny runs off at some point earlier into the charity. At this point, parties are still being held at Wayne Manor (because iirc google search mentioned that was a thing at first before it was changed), so he disappears and hides in one of the empty rooms nearby. It just so happens to be the same room Bruce Wayne hides in when he needs a break from all of the socialization.
Thus begins a long, long process of trust. Bruce can't reveal his hand as being smarter than he looks, but he can be compassionate. Kindness needs no measure of intelligence. He keeps Danny company for as long as he can before he runs the risk of being found.
Rinse and repeat. Vlad insistently wants Wayne Industries, and he'll go to as many Wayne parties as he can to get his hooks into the man. The problem is that Bruce Wayne is never alone, and getting him alone is impossible. Finding him too. It's like the man never stops moving. Always talking to someone, always circling somewhere. He orbits around the room as if he isn't the sun of the Gotham Elite's solar system.
Danny's had such repetitive behavior that Vlad never thinks to believe that Bruce Wayne is disappearing to go talk to him. That "Vlad's" son is even interacting with him at all. Danny never gives him a reason to think so, and neither does Bruce.
Danny doesn't actually acknowledge Bruce until a handful of parties in, where he hands Bruce a small slip of paper he smuggled in that says; "don't trust Vlad". Danny's face stays carefully blank, but he's so tense that his hands are trembling, and he's purposely looking away from him. Bruce plasters a smile onto his face, slips the paper into his pocket, and tells him "okay".
(he's been busy with his own goals with the mafia, but he sets aside time to investigate Vlad Masters. He was holding off. Until now.)
Danny does eventually start speaking to Bruce, he's starting to really like the guy. He's starting to see a little hope, even as Vlad is starting to get more and more agitated with him the more he refuses to use his powers.
He reaches out to Sam and Tucker again, and starts trying to reconnect with them. Vlad has spyware on his phone, and he limits the amount of times he can talk to them. A weird parental control lock of some sort that leaves a time limit on how long he can talk to them for. 30 minutes. Danny doesn't tell them anything about Mr. Wayne.
Danny, slowly, wants out of here, and he's slowly gathering the motivation to do it. Vlad is genuinely scaring him -- and Danny wonders just how truthful the past-future Vlad was when he told him that Danny wanted his ghost half separate. He starts trying to come up with an escape plan.
Vlad has anti-ghost wards everywhere around the mansion, and while they're always on, they boost to full power at sunset. The doors and windows are always locked, all main exits have alarms set on them. The only reason it's not super extensive is because Danny hasn't tried leaving at all yet, so Vlad hasn't had to tighten anything.
At night, Vlad locks the door to his room and puts up an anti-ghost ward around the room. The mansion is on the outside westward side of Madison, more entrenched in rural Wisconsin. The closest town is a four-way stop sign with one house on three corners, and an open bar on the fourth. Not much to go.
He refuses to go to Sam and Tucker; Vlad would look there first. It's too dangerous. Vlad would sound alarm bells and have a manhunt looking for him, Danny can't risk going just anywhere. Too much risk of being found, sold out, or caught. There's really nowhere for him to hide.
Until there is. Bruce is telling Danny about the history of Wayne Manor, and says, as casually as saying the weather; "The manor has dozens of empty rooms, I'm sure Alfred wouldn't mind filling another one if he could." And quietly, hesitantly, Bruce places a careful hand on Danny's shoulder, unrestrictive and gentle; "He wouldn't mind getting one ready for you if you need one."
And there it is. There's his out.
Danny, just as quietly, replies; "I'll keep that in mind."
The ball starts rolling.
Now I've been trying to summarize this au as much as possible for length convenience, but Vlad has been steadily growing more and more controlling. More emotionally manipulative. More agitated at Danny for not using his powers.
He wants Wayne Industries under his thumb but he's been steadily growing more and more concerned with Danny. He's started grabbing him, yanking him around, shaking him; trying to goad him into using his powers. He gets angry when Danny doesn't react, or tells him he doesn't want to use his powers. He hasn't outright attacked him, but he's getting there. This has been happening over the time it takes for Bruce to indirectly offer Danny sanctuary at his home.
It all comes to a head when Vlad stops going to parties at all -- something Danny has to pretend he isn't upset about -- because Vlad doesn't want him around other people anymore. Vlad rarely goes now without him, and only leaves to go to a Wayne function or to handle something at VladCo.
Danny can't wait for Vlad to leave long enough to escape. So he leaves during the night of a big storm. Vlad's locked him in his room, but Danny doesn't bother trying to go for it; he goes to the alarmed window instead. Danny's been repressing his ghost half so long that he can't access his powers immediately anymore -- he can feel it, he knows its there, but he can't quite reach it.
He breaks the lock by hand.
Immediately the alarm goes off through the entire castle, filling the room with red, and he scrambles for the rope the Wisconsin Ghost left for him a few months back. Danny's already out and climbing down the side of the castle before Vlad even reaches his door -- the only good thing about the entire room being ghost-proof is that Vlad can't get in that way.
The rope ends before it reaches the bottom, and he's still twenty feet in the air. It won't kill him if he lands it right. Danny takes his chances, and drops. He breaks his ankle, but he survives.
And he fucking books it to the back garden. He hears Vlad shrieking over the thunder and rain.
I'll save the full experience for a future oneshot, but Danny makes it out into the nearby woods and forcibly experiences what it's like to be in a horror game, trying to hide from the thing that's hunting you. There's only one thing going through his mind; "i'm going to die"
I have this mental image for this scene. Very stereotypical horror imo. Where Danny is hiding behind a tree, with a hand over his mouth, and Vlad is a few feet away from him, glowing ominously red through the trees, trying to search for him.
Danny doesn't get away from this unscathed, but he does get away alive. That's all he could ask for. He gets away by getting his ghost half awakened long enough to transform into Phantom and fly to Gotham.
But he gets to Wayne Manor, he gets to Bruce. Or, at least, Alfred answers the door from his insistent pounding. Danny's just in tears and Alfred gets him in the living room, wrapped in a towel, with ice on his swollen leg before he has to step out and alert Bruce.
Bruce already breaks multiple traffic laws on a nightly basis. And that's just with the sheer existence of the batmobile itself, not including the speeding and military artillery attached. He breaks double the amount trying to speed back to the cave and get out of the suit.
Right off the bat: Bruce will know, at least before Dick enters the picture, about danny's powers. He'll figure out something considering the fact that Danny traveled from Wisconsin to New York in a single night. That'll be a bit of complicated affair, but I've already got something in mind.
Actually it'll probably be very soon after Danny joins the family, because Bruce tries to offer to fight for custody for Danny - the state Danny was in at arrival is clear enough evidence for a trial. But Danny immediately shuts it down, says it's not going to work and then Vlad will know Danny's with him and he won't be safe. He tells him that Vlad cannot know Danny was with Bruce.
Danny's biggest regret was not telling his parents he was a halfa, and while he doesn't want to tell mister wayne (yet), he does tell him about Vlad being one. He needs to know why Danny can't be seen with Bruce. So he tells him, and Danny's current plan is to just hide out from Vlad until he turns 18. That way, he has no more legal jurisdiction over him. After that? He's not sure.
And to wrap this up, since this has already gotten very long and I can make more posts about this au later; I've thought about it, and I'm going to say that Danny does become a vigilante before Dick enters the scene. He goes by, as you probably guessed; Nightingale. "Gale" for short.
#dpxdc#dp x dc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dp x dc crossover#dpxdc crossover#tales of the passerine au#i dont want to overemphasize how much vlad sucks but also i dont want to downplay it. but also i didn't wanna make this post too long#i didn't emphasize enough on vlad's possessiveness but i wanted to make this post as general enough as possible for the au.#for some more wiggle room in the future if i make more posts about this au.#the consequences for Danny repressing himself was not a concern i was focused on for the post but i am thinking about it and mulling it ove#i'll be blunt my main specific reason for why this occurs shortly after tue is bc it means dani doesn't exist yet and it means i dont have#to include her in the continuation of this au. i love that girl but she's a dead weight. i dont wanna come up with an elaborate reason as#to why she's not in the picture when i can just say 'she never created in the first place' instead. i don't have anything for her to do#I don't want to risk giving her a poor plot line just so that she exists in au.#sometimes i really hate just how long my posts get. i feel like it kills my engagement. but i also don't want to make posts that have#a part 1 and part 2 just because I think it got too long.#i feel kinda bad for having Danny take the spot of 'first partner' from Dick. But that was part of the reason i was inspired to make this a#i've already got the skeleton of a reasoning for danny becoming a vigilante being made in my head.#He can't go by Phantom since that risks drawing Vlad's attention -- a new vigilante showing up in Gotham. a place the visited frequently#who goes by the name Phantom? He'd be on that faster than chickens on meat. and nightingale has familial meaning behind it due to being#part of an ancestral name. it follows robin's theme of using it to honor his parents while still having its own unique enough lore to stand#on its own without feeling like a cheap copy. plus the bonus meta reason that it follows the bird theme. which personally is vital to me#my other alternative to Nightingale is Sparrow. mostly because it has good phonetic structure for a hero name. not too many syllables#a good balance of consonants and vowels. dont want a hero name with too many syllables or unbalanced consonants. or worse; both.#my reasonings is that hero names should be easy for a civ or teammate to yell while still being understood. max amount of syllables before#it threatens to become too wordy is 3. If it goes over 3 it should have a balanced consonant-vowel ratio. Wonder Woman is a good example#some things got cut here that were in the initial oneshot. like danny giving bruce his physical ghost core and showing up bloody.#the first son au
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solar-wing ¡ 1 year ago
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⚣ Idiots In Love 🤦‍♂️
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⚣🤦‍♂️ A/N → This is a request that I got from my previous account. It's not a re-post though. This is freshly written and done. Here you are @alexanderstarhero! I hope you like it! Not one of my best, but I did get a similar request to this one, and I wanted to get it out. Warnings: Omegaverse | Oblivious Friends to Lovers | Jealousy | Canon-Typical Violence | Kissing and marking | etc.
⚣🤦‍♂️ Summary → Nothing is more frustrating than watching two people who are clearly in love with each other be completely oblivious and ignorant of each other's feelings. It's so obvious, like come on, how could they not see it? Wait, did Conner just protectively wrap his arm around Y/N when Wally got too close? And they're supposed to be "friends?" I can't take this anymore. I'm DONE! I'M OVER IT!
⚣🤦‍♂️ Words → 5.0k
REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛
Also, vote in my Omegaverse/Yandere poll here!
⚣ ENJOY 🤦‍♂️
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It was so sweet, yet also so painful to watch. How could you two be that affectionate and cute with each other, and still have no clue of the feelings you both held? It had to be a screw loose in the brain or something because this was just getting ridiculous.
Shortly after Zatara became the new Dr. Fate, Zatanna, his daughter, reached out to his son and her adoptive brother, Y/N Zatara to come join her at Mount Justice and join the Team. He was more than thrilled at the offer and immediately packed up his things from his boarding school and joined his sister in Happy Harbor.
Y/N had always wanted to join the Justice League’s newest stealth and covert team when it was first formed, but Zatara would not allow it. He didn’t want either of his children to join the Team for various reasons. Specifically, he didn’t want to create any chance or risk of losing Zatanna, his only connection to his deceased wife, Sindella.
For Y/N, he knew the life of a superhero and its sometimes cruel and unfair conditions. The magician knew the already hard life the young omega was given early on and didn’t want to add to it.
When Y/N was very young, he’d become an orphan, his parents disappearing under mysterious circumstances. So, he was placed in foster care and moved between many different foster homes. As the story typically goes, he felt out of place and never really accepted in any of the homes his CPS agent would place him in.
Not just for his magical abilities, but sometimes also for his daily obvious submissive nature. Even if he hadn’t presented yet, Y/N always showed early traits of an Omega dynamic. And, just as many places in the world that had yet to move forward in modern times, there was an inherent bias in the foster care system that favored Alpha or Beta children over Omegas.
It wasn’t until his 5th or 6th foster home that he ran away, and happened to come across a battle between Zatara and Wotan. The magician’s curiosity had been piqued when this random child helped him in taking down the sorcerer. After hearing a bit of the young child’s story, he decided to take him under his wing and adopt him as his son.
Many jokes were made by different leaguers about how he needed to be careful or he’d turn into Batman 2.0.
The Dark Knight did not find the joke amusing.
When Zatara had brought Zatanna to the Team’s new base shortly after their creation as a stealth unit for the Justice League, Y/N wanted to join along, but Zatara insisted he stay at his school and focus on his studies. That’s why he was absent for the first adventures his sister got to join in.
Things changed though when Zatanna decided to use the Helmet of Fate in the battle against Klarion after he split the world into two dimensions with one only full of adults and the other only full of children. As fate would have it (pun unintended), Nabu, the spirit possessing the helmet refused to give up her body as he felt it necessary he establish himself permanently on Earth to prevent the world from falling into chaos.
A deal was made between Zatara and Nabu that he would trade places with his daughter, becoming the new Dr. Fate.
After that, Zatanna’s life was moved from New York to Mount Justice where she lived alongside Miss Martian and Superboy. M’Gann did her best to help her new comrade and roommate feel welcomed, excited at having another girl living at Mount Justice and being able to do all sorts of Earth girly stuff as she saw on TV, but it wasn’t enough.
Zatanna craved familiarity. She missed her home and her dad, and though nothing would ever be able to replace those feelings, she figured having her brother around would help her feel less alone after just a few months of living at the Cave
Yes, was it a bit selfish? Kind of, but, in her defense, Y/N had already wanted to join the Team the second he found out about it. It was their dad who wouldn’t let him, so of course, when he got the call from his sister, he wanted to immediately pack up his things and move himself to Happy Harbor.
But, of course, adults had to intervene. Their leaders suggested Y/N wait till he finished the semester at his current school and then transfer over in the new year after winter break was over. Not what they initially wanted, but knowing they would eventually be together in a few months was enough to hold them over.
After the entire mess with Vandal Savage and his scheme of taking the Justice League was over, Batman and Black Canary began the official process of transferring Y/N over to Happy Harbor. They handled all of the paperwork and administrative details on Zatara’s behalf, and soon, both the Zatara siblings became full-time members of the Team.
The day Y/N arrived was one to be remembered. His future teammates couldn’t think of a time they had seen Zatanna so anxious and excited. When the Zeta Tube machines began whirring up and the automated voice announced his arrival, she almost left skid marks on the floor from how fast she sprinted to the opening.
The very first moment Y/N came through, she immediately ran forward and tackled him into a hug with him returning the gesture as well, happy to see his sister. The other team members watched in silent awe, some a bit emotional than others (*cough* Wally *cough*).
After their tearful reunion, Zatanna introduced her brother to the rest of the team. Everything went smoothly until she got to Superboy, who Y/N immediately became nervous and flushed around the second he laid eyes on the Kryptonian.
Zatanna and Y/N always kept in contact through phone calls, emails, and letters while he was away, and that didn’t change when she met the Young Justice team. 
In her messages, she described the Team and its different members, the missions they went on, and all the different stuff about the Cave. She also went into very specific details about one particular member of the group, even going as far as to send pictures sometimes whenever the group took photos together.
Knowing her sweet, Omega brother, and his overly romantic way of thinking, she knew if he and Superboy had ever met, he’d more than likely fall head over heels. Zatanna herself was a Beta, so she wasn’t easily swooned by the sight and smell of Alphas and Omegas like her brother or other certain members of the team (*cough* Wally *cough*).
However, she didn’t expect the surprising (at least to her) relationship between Conner and M’Gann. That truthfully was the plot twist of the season. She was no relationship expert, but if you asked her, those two just didn’t make sense.
There was no chemistry, no connection or spark that even the strongest telescope could see between them. The most you could see was physical attraction if even that. So when it came down to their eventual split a few months later, Zatanta, out of everybody else on the team, was not even the slightest bit surprised.
M’Gann swore they were just on a small break and would be back together in no time, but the sorceress was almost positive it wasn’t happening. Conner showed no interest in wanting to get back with her, which was the entire reason she even started poking at the idea of him and Y/N together in the first place.
They would look so good together, and oh god, could you imagine their children? Cutest kids ever. She wasn’t biased at all, but seriously? Take one look at Y/N, then look at Conner who’s basically the standard of the attractive himbo– ahem, male. 
She could even remember her and her dad doing all the thinking of the world of who Y/N’s parents could be.
You didn’t get looks like those by wishing for it or casting a spell…
Hold up?
…
Nah.
Yet, the only issue getting in the way was their inability to confess their obvious feelings for each other. It was like that feeling you get when watching a Dora episode and the twitch but replacing it with a b kept asking for something that was literally RIGHT THERE.
Like, girl, ARE YOU BLIND?!
That had to be the case, considering both reactions from Y/N and Conner when they were introduced.
As mentioned before, Y/N became flustered and nervous, almost stuttering over his words when he went to shake hands with Superboy. He’d been smooth and charismatic with everyone else on the team, but, as Zatanna predicted, the Omega immediately grew a crush on the young superhero. And it definitely wasn’t one-sided.
You know in those cheesy romance novels and movies (Disney we’re looking at you), when the two lovebirds or soulmates first make contact, and there’s that ‘spark’ between them. Like long-lost lovers or some shit like that?
Let’s just say, this was a bit more, extra if you will.
Conner had only been out of his pod for a few months, and what he had yet to discover was that the human part of his DNA meant his genes were also subjected to Alpha/Beta/Omega biology, unlike M’Gann and her Uncle or even Clark. Not much study had been done yet on Kryptonian biology and if they were affected by a similar biological dynamic system like most homo-sapiens were. 
Martians were never known to have such a thing in their biology according to Martian Manhunter.
Therefore, it never occurred to anyone the possibility that Conner could very well end up presenting a dynamic at some point if he hadn’t already. When he met Y/N and shook hands with him, you could say his reaction was surprising, bordering on terrifying or hot. Your choice.
The Kryptonian’s nose had flared and he ended up yanking Y/N into his arms, aggressively sniffing at his neck. He also uttered the word ‘Mine’ while glaring and growling at anyone who dared take a step too close.
Hmm, does anyone else have the weirdest sense of DĂŠjĂ  Vu? Weird.
It became clear to everyone right there Conner’s biological dynamic; Alpha. And, considering meeting Y/N was his first time meeting an Omega ever, he reacted quite better than many before they’d seen, which was a bit shocking when you think about it.
The man literally came out of his pod swinging and punching, not to mention his less-than-tactical way of dealing with confrontational situations. Everyone chalked it up to his Kryptonian DNA and his isolation from society for his aggressive ways.
Nope, it was just regular Alpha-like temper tantrums. Typical.
Plus, most of the guys were either Alphas, except for Dick who had yet to present. Artemis and Zatanna were both betas, making Y/N the first and only Omega on the team.
The others managed to separate the two, and when Conner got himself back under control, he apologized embarrassingly before excusing himself. Everyone had brushed it off and wouldn’t hang it over his head, knowing from experience how bad those situations can get when you experience your first ‘hormonal instinct takeover’, or H.I.T. as most would call it.
Whoever thought of that must have considered themselves quite clever. Getting hit with H.I.T.? So corny.
That interaction all but confirmed Zatanna’s predictions that Conner and Y/N would end up together. Though, he didn’t score high in M’Gann’s favor at all.
She wasn’t pleased with that interaction at all and wanted to avoid the possibility of having any repeat mistakes in the future. Things would not go her way. In truth, they would go the opposite.
After they showed him the Cave, they let him get set up in his room which was conveniently right next to Conner’s room. Something else the Martian girl was 100% not happy about.
She tried to point out the fact that maybe if Conner was getting used to his new Alpha dynamic, having an Omega room right next to him wouldn’t be the best idea since it could be a trigger for the Kryptonian. It almost worked too, but once again, things did not go her way.
Surprisingly (not for Zatanna), it was Conner who shot down the idea, saying that he could control himself and didn’t think it necessary for Y/N to move rooms. Besides, the Omega had already started unpacking and getting comfortable, and he didn’t want to inconvenience him.
Which was half the truth…
Little did he or anyone else realize, Conner was already falling in sync with his natural Alpha instincts. And the most urgent of those at the moment was keeping the Omega he desired in a close enough place where he could protect and watch over him.
The thought of having Y/N in a room farther away where he couldn’t immediately get to him if something were to happen left a very sour feeling in the Alpha’s stomach. Thankfully, Batman and Black Canary agreed to let him keep the room. But, Conner would be working with the Dark Knight on controlling and understanding his new biological nature since that was something the G-Gnomes couldn’t telepathically teach him.
M’Gann was not happy.
Zatanna was ecstatic.
Y/N was nervous but also giddy. The Kryptonian was not alone in his feelings or instincts taking over as the second anyone suggested a room change, the Omega was prepared to fight (metaphorically speaking) to stay exactly where he was.
He wasn’t blind at all. Y/N caught on to M’Gann’s motives the second she opened her mouth, and he wasn’t going to let her win if he had anything to say about it. The more time Conner and Y/N spent around each other, the more protective and jealous each other became when it came to anyone else coming around them. Specifically, anyone they saw as a threat.
For Y/N, that was obviously M’Gann.
As time passed by and he got more acclimated into the team, he was not oblivious to the many attempts M’Gann would make to flirt and get back with Conner, even going as far as one day just blatantly asking him if he ever thought about her.
The Kryptonian was kind enough not to embarrass her in front of everyone and pulled her out of the room to explain his platonic feelings for her. Y/N heard everything though, thanks to a spying spell he secretly cast.
And Y/N is not shy about staking his claim on the Alpha, even though they’re only friends. He finds subtle ways to leave his scent on Conner, whether that’s giving him subtle touches where he knows his scent glands are, asking to wear his jacket when he pretends to get cold, or finding an excuse to hug or touch the boy.
Also, if the Alpha ever needs anything, Y/N is the first to grab and provide what it may be. Not only did it please his nature to know he was taking care of an Alpha, but it also satisfied his territorial side whenever M’Gann saw or heard Conner praising him for his assistance.
His biggest success though may have been after an incident where M’Gann tried to read his mind only to have her thoughts scattered by his defensive spell. Y/N was never a big fan of the telepathic link of communication they used on missions, giving M’Gann unlimited access to all of their thoughts.
He placed a protective spell over his and Zatanna’s minds with her permission that would only allow M’Gann access to communicating thoughts and nothing else. If she went searching for more, the spell would activate and deflect her signal right back to her mind, scrambling her head. Imagine a brain freeze or your worst headache, and then put it on steroids. Served her well.
He discreetly put one on Conner as well, but knew he would take it off eventually as he didn’t want to overstep boundaries.
Of course, this caught the attention of others when the Martian girl was more or less screaming in pain for a solid minute. The effect didn’t last long, so she wasn’t being tortured for an extended period, only long enough to teach her a lesson. 
When Aqualad asked what happened, Y/N simply explained his discomfort with having an open link into each of their minds and his protective measures in case someone decided to get a little nosy. M’Gann’s little reaction proved his concerns were justified.
The mage suggested that he could use the same spell which would allow them to communicate telepathically still, but just that. No reading one’s thoughts and mind.
Everyone readily agreed to this, of course, the only one protesting it was M’Gann, but considering she was outnumbered, she had no choice but to go along. Aqualad also requested he place that defensive spell on each one of their minds, just in case any of them were to have run-ins with a mind-reading villain like that time in Bialya.
When it came time for him to put the spell on Conner, Y/N decided to come clean and admitted he already placed a spell on him. He claimed it was because he heard how the G-Gnomes used to control him telepathically and figured he wanted to erase any chance of that, which was true, but not the only reason. 
Thankfully, the Kryptonian didn’t question him, finding comfort and admiration in the fact that he would go out of his way for him like that. His Alpha side was very happy.
Zatanna, of course, knew better and was very happy watching this entire thing unfold.
Now, on Superboy’s end, his threat was basically anyone who was not either a female, another Omega, or himself. Meaning he sees not just his enemies as a threat to claim over Y/N, but even some of his allies as well.
If he and Y/N were in the same room together and Kal, Wally, or Dick entered, Conner immediately would be on edge. He’d watch their every move like a hawk, especially if they came too close toward the mage for his liking. 
If any of them were to be talking to the Omega, they’d turn to find a very aggravated and tense Kryptonian glaring at them with a very clear message. One wrong move and their mentors would be looking for new mentees.
It was something he had to work hard on in his training with Batman and now Superman as well, taming his jealous and possessive instincts. He learned that while Kryptonians don’t share the same biological dynamics as humans do, they do still have stronger instincts and urges, which can amplify his already strong Alpha nature.
It proved easier said than done.
It was so easy for him to let his protective nature take over, even when Y/N was perfectly safe or in total control of a situation.
Many times on missions, Conner would all but demand that Y/N be paired with him if they were to split up. Even if it sometimes made sense for the mage to be paired off with a different person, he’d barely budge. With Artemis or Zatanna, he was lenient. M’Gann was just an automatic no. And any of the other guys, it’d be easier to ask Batman to not brood for one day.
That wasn’t even the worst part, though. Many times on missions or in battles, the Kryptonian would demand Y/N stay back and let him handle the fight, even if the mage was winning.
At one point, Wotan sought revenge against Zatara, Dr. Fate, and the Omega who defeated him so many years ago and had once again combined forces with Klarion to put many heroes in the Justice League under a spell. Similar to when that mind control thing happened with Vandal Savage, but this time, they were instructed to just destroy those three.
Of course, as Fate would have it (no pun intended), Superboy and Y/N ended up facing off against Superman. Now, given the last time the two Kryptonians faced off, you’d think Conner would have taken the back-pedal, considering they both shared a similar weakness to magic.
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Nope.
Conner insisted that Y/N stay behind him and that he would take care of Superman himself. He held out for as long as he could, but, at some point, the mage just couldn’t continue to sit by and watch.
They won the battle, and Zatanna and Y/N were able to break the spell over the heroes, but Conner was not happy with the Omega at all. However, he couldn’t figure out if he was more upset about the fact he disobeyed him or that he put his life in danger for him. 
And, truthfully, he had to wonder if he was only upset and not also appreciative and grateful for the knowledge of knowing that if he truly was ever in trouble, he could count on Y/N to be there to help him when he couldn’t help himself.
Again, Zatanna was fully enjoying herself watching this play out.
Yet, the longer it went on, the more she and the others got tired of waiting. Even M’Gann was getting restless wondering when those two were going to man up and admit their feelings.
In the beginning, Y/N and Conner were both very awkward around each other, considering how they first met. The Kryptonian felt as if he didn’t know how to approach the Omega without humiliating himself again. And, the mage felt like he didn’t know how to talk to the Alpha without getting flustered and nervous and saying something embarrassing.
Truly, two peas in a pod.
But, their mutual affection and painfully obvious feelings for each other would bring them closer over time, and they soon became almost virtually inseparable. There weren’t many instances where anyone could say they saw one without the other. Especially Conner who always made it a point to be in the same vicinity as Y/N.
Zatanna and the others eventually got tired of waiting and cooked up a plan to get the two together so they could finally end this drawn-out torture. Since they were both so oblivious, they decided the best way to get them to admit their feelings was for lack of a better phrase, ‘forcing them in a corner.’
Some legitimate concerns did come up considering their plan consisted of Wally flirting with Y/N to irritate and make Conner jealous. The main one came from the speedster himself in how they would keep the Kryptonian from trying to essentially murder him.
Don’t get him wrong; Wally was no coward. But, he knew when he was outmatched in a fight, and considering how territorial and aggressive Alphas could get when they felt challenged since he was one himself, the possibilities were all too real in his mind.
Zatanna, Dick, and the others promised they wouldn’t let that happen, but it didn’t do much to alleviate the concerns in his mind. But, in a surprising twist of events, it turned out Conner wasn’t the one they had to worry about.
They put their plan into action early in the mornings, with Wally giving subtle one-liners and suggestive looks in Y/N’s direction. As predicted, Conner immediately became disgruntled, growing irritated and frustrated with every flirty line and look out of the speedster’s mouth toward his Omega (at least in his mind).
Y/N was surprised by this as well and did his best to ignore Wally’s advances, but not good enough in a certain Martain’s eye. 
M’Gann was not in on Zatanna’s plans for obvious reasons, and when she saw Wally’s attempts at flirting with the Omega took that as her golden opportunity to win Conner back. She found the Alpha in the training room by himself, a rare occurrence where Y/N was nowhere in sight.
He was busy sparring with the reinforced punching bag Batman created for him, doing his best to control and tame his anger like Superman and Batman taught him. But, his super hearing wouldn’t allow much of that since he could still hear every flirty line out of Wally’s mouth which just increased the intensity of his punches.
M’Gann took advantage of his angry state, trying to paint a false, negative image of Y/N that if he really cared about the Kryptonian, he wouldn’t entertain any of Wally’s behavior at all. She was laying hands on his hard, shirtless body doing her best to give her most alluring eyes while looking at his sweaty and angered face.
Conner was so in his head with his anger and frustration that he barely reacted or moved when M’Gann pushed herself closer, looking as if she was going in for a kiss. Of course, as fate would have it, that was the moment Y/N chose to walk in on them with Wally and the others in tow.
It was almost as if time had paused and then skipped a few seconds because before anyone could react, Y/N had cast a spell that blasted M’Gann to the other side of the room. No one had seen the Omega that angry before (besides Zatanna) didn’t know how to react when he stomped toward the Martian who was just getting herself off the floor.
When it looked like no one was going to do anything, Zatanna was about to step in until Conner intervened, grabbing Y/N, and holding him against his body while instructing the others to check on the Martian to make sure she was okay. He dragged the furious Omega out of the room, Zatanna subtly smirking as she watched before going to help M’Gann.
Conner marched them both toward his bedroom, shutting the door forcibly behind him before pushing Y/N against the surface, smashing his lips against him to silence the Omega’s angry shouts. Shocked, surprised, bewildered, all words you could use to describe Y/N's reaction to the sudden kiss, but resistant? Not in this universe or the next however many.
He immediately gave in to the Kryptonian’s demanding and rough lips, thoroughly enjoying the feeling of his hands squeezing and pulling his waist against his. They became a tangled mess of limbs as Conner moved them from the door over to his bed, carefully laying the Omega’s body onto the mattress while positioning himself on top.
Eventually, they broke their lips apart, but the Alpha wasn’t done yet. He greedily ran his lips up and down the Omega’s jaw and neck, giving into his possessive nature and leaving as many bites and hickeys as the eye could see. 
At that point, Y/N was begging for the Kryptonian to knot and mark him, seeing as how Conner wasn’t shy this time about letting the smaller male know who’s Omega he was. His Alpha nature and instincts were very satisfied seeing the mage so desperate and needy for him, wishing suddenly he could take a picture to capture this moment.
And while tempted to give in to the Omega’s cries and pleas, he opted to resist, wanting to save that moment for a more special occasion.
“Boo, you’re no fun,” Y/N pouted.
Conner grew a smug look at the bratty Omega before running his nose down his neck toward his scent gland. “That’s fine. Besides, why should I reward you after letting another Alpha flirt with you all day?” Conner asked, a crossed expression passing over his face.
“I wasn’t letting him flirt with me. I was trying to get him to stop and avoid him all day since I knew it would make you upset.” Y/N said in reply.
“How did you know I would be upset?”
“Dude, anytime one of the guys even breathed at me, you got angry. You were ready to break Dick’s arm that time he caught me falling from that stairway.” Y/N laughed.
“He shouldn’t have his hands that low on your waist. You can easily catch someone using their armpits.” Conner said, a childish ‘hmph’ leaving his lips.
“Yeah, okay Mr. I can lift a car with my pinky.”
Conner rolled his eyes, before using his hands to tickle the Omega’s sides, “You think you’re so funny.”
Y/N tried to fight against the laughs coming up his chest and push Conner away, but the Alpha was obviously stronger than him and easily held him down while continuing to tickle him mercilessly. Eventually, he released him and they both calmed down.
The Alpha continued to lay gently on top of the Omega, burying his face in the smaller male’s neck to breathe in his scent while Y/N rubbed his hands up and down the larger male’s back and through his dark hair. It was intimate and peaceful, the two lovebirds finally enjoying what they both had secretly been craving for so long.
Eventually, their friends came to check on them, interrupting the special moment. Wally apologized to Conner after he and Zatanna explained their plan, to which the Alpha and Omega gave unamused looks to their friends, though they both appreciated the gesture since it did help them finally get together.
Y/N also apologized to M’Gann for his behavior but did warn her that if ever tried something like that with his Alpha again, she’d realize just how creatively violent he could get with his magic. Surprisingly, she also apologized, but the Omega could tell that his friends probably forced her to do so.
Either way, he was happy.
He and his idiot Alpha were finally together.
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☀️ | Conner Kent/Superboy | ☀️
☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️
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tcifob ¡ 11 days ago
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CP: Christen, from Los Angeles, wants to know, tell us one special fact about your outfit.
TH: How do you, how does Christen spell her name?
CP: C -H -R -I -S -T -E -N.
TH: Wow. One fact?
CP: Yeah!
TH: Well, I have carpets on carpets. My shoes are made out of vintage carpets on our carpet. The other one is-
CP: Oh, two!
TH: I have a zipper that goes from the front to the back.
CP: Oh, I'm so happy we started the show this way.
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teriri-sayes ¡ 6 months ago
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Reactions to Crazier Bastard's Chapter 305
Brief summary: 5 people from CP came. HD meets his disciples, Clopeh and Hannah. HD wants to spar with CH.
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The first batch of CP people came, and they were:
Heavenly Demon - leader of the Demon Cult
Fist King Mok Hyeon - representing the imperial family
Jegal Mi Ryeo - female general commander of the Murim Alliance's military force; Caleism believer (?)
Tang Yu - Poison Queen; 50 y/o matriarch of the Tang Clan of Sichuan
Sima Jung - Trash of the Evil Alliance; son of Sima Pyeong, the Evil Alliance leader; Toonka's friend
All of them were surprised to see Cale's true appearance. Sima Jung immediately searching for Toonka was cute though. 😂 There was a funny scene between him and Raon:
Sima Jung: I greet the great elder. Sheritt: ??? eyes shaking Sima Jung: My father told me to always ask the great elder how he is, and to treat him with courtesy. Raon: tilts head ??? Sima Jung-ya! Why am your great elder? I'm only 7 years old! Sima Jung: No. He is my father's teacher, so I should call him with a great title, but please understand that I have not forgotten the lessons of the great elder, so I can only call him this. Raon: Hmm. I don't mind! Sima Jung: That's what I want to do. Great elder. Raon: Then do so! Cale: confused Fist King: Before we came here, he was beaten up by Sima Pyeong for three days and nights. Cale: Aha. immediately understands
Sima Pyeong is a great dad... 😂😂😂 Now if only Deruth had disciplined trash Cale... but I guess everyone secretly knew that og!Cale was just acting trash? Anyway, Sheritt's reaction to her son being called great elder was so funny. 🤣🤣🤣
If I recall, Jegal Mi Ryeo was somehow converted (?) to Caleism in the CP arc by the end, so I'm now excited to hear Kim Hae-il's current reputation in CP. Did Cale get more murim titles? 😂
What happened to Tang Yu was sad. The Dragon Lord of Aipotu destroyed her hometown of Sichuan, and half of her clan died during that time. Fortunately, the kittens were interested in her. Tang Yu and Hong recognized each other's poison, and On (and Ron) seemed to be interested in her assassin-like skills.
While the four were led to their rooms by Ron, Cale personally guided HD to HD's assigned room in the Black Castle. Why? Because Cale wanted HD to meet his "disciples", the people who inherited his power.
Hannah was acting awkward, but grateful to HD. But she was shocked when HD said she swung her sword ignorantly. She thought he was calling her ignorant, but HD was actually complimenting her. He said that it was just her style, and did not mean she herself was ignorant.
However, HD said that CH would be a better teacher to her. He described HD as someone who pretended to be gentle but was clever, and pretended to be ignorant but was troubled a lot. If you think about it, Hannah and CH are similar. Well, except the gentle part? Did Hannah ever pretend to be gentle in the past? Ah, that's right. She was gentle when in her holy maiden days.
Clopeh though... 😂😂😂 HD correctly figured out that he was a snake bastard, and both Cale and Raon were impressed. 😂HD described Clopeh's sword to be like an imoogi, and that Clopeh had the potential to surpass CH. Clopeh kept smiling all the time, and CH just shrugged.
The author showed her bias towards Clopeh again. Like, is there a need to mention his white hair and green eyes every time he appears in a chapter? Or be constantly reminded that he had a noble or holy appearance and smile? 🤣🤣🤣
HD was such a Male Lead-like character, and I think a lot of people agree, perhaps even the author herself. He even dropped the famous "How interesting" line (to his disciples). And then being revealed to be the most powerful person in Central Plains. I want to be excited with his upcoming spar with CH, but knowing the author, this would happen behind the scenes.
Ending Remarks I am so happy to see the CP people again, especially HD. 🥰 Next up would be Cale's talk with Exion regarding the Dragon Lord. Hopefully, this would be short as I would like to see Cale's interaction with the CP people again.
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cripplecharacters ¡ 11 months ago
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hello! so, i currently have an oc in the works. i dont have much for his character yet, and hes kind of a blank slate at the moment, however, whilst trying to develop him i had the idea to give him a disability; its something i dont do with my characters very often, and i feel like it could give some depth and realism to his character. however, i..... dont know where to really start with it? i have the vague idea that i think id like him to have crutches, so some sort of leg disability, but just going off that its been hard for me to find any condition that feels quite right. im unsure about making him an amputee either; seemingly the "go to" for anyone who wants to make a physically disabled character. i want to try and represent a disability thats less fetishized by the general public, and looking through this blog here its definitely apparent that a lot of people are tired of seeing basic half amputee characters with overly functional prosthetics; i wanna avoid that. sorry this has gotten a bit rambly, but basically what im asking is,, do you have advice for what i could use as just. a general starting point in this? im terribly uneducated and lost at the moment and id love some help. thank you :]
Hi!
It's great that you're interested in writing a disabled character (with care)! I'm always happy to see more writers/artists/creatives do that.
You mentioned wanting to give him crutches, which is cool! Mobility aid users in media make me happy. However, you mentioned crutches as meaning a leg disability, which isn't always the case — and while I don't have statistics on it, I believe that most crutch users do not use them for leg-only problems, and a lot of them have the not-so-fetishized conditions. Here are some suggestions of what you could give your character, which hopefully gives you some ideas. If you need, you can get back to us with a more specific question after you figure out what exactly your character has! :-) (smile)
Cerebral palsy — probably the most common reason for using crutches in non-elderly people, and the most common (physical) disability in younger people in general. If your character has diplegic (meaning lower limbs affected) CP, he could use crutches and if he has hemiplegic (one arm and one leg affected) CP, then he could use a single crutch or a cane. Cerebral palsy is generally extremely underrepresented when compared to how many people have it IRL! Just be aware that there is a lot of research involved just about the condition itself — multiple types (spastic/ataxic/dyskinetic), different kinds of body involvement, tons of different mobility aids and orthotics to learn about. There is also hereditary spastic paraplegia, which is not the same as CP but similar and progressive.
Spinal cord injury — the general assumption is that all people with spinal cord injuries are fully paralyzed below the neck or waist, and that's not the case. If your character has an incomplete SCI on any level or just a very low level injury, he could be using crutches or switch between a wheelchair and crutches. It's essential to research SCIs to have them be more than “legs don't work, but that's literally it”. SCI can come with severe nerve pain, spasticity, atrophy, and a lot of other things. Worth noting that spinal cord injury could be traumatic, but could also be congenital (spina bifida) or illness related (polio, transverse myelitis, spinal stroke, or cancer, for example). You could think that it's overrepresented in media, but SCI is generally just used as a “default condition” for why a character is in a wheelchair, and a lot of these representations are unfortunately very shallow.
Paralysis — in the monoplegic sense here. Much more rare than the rest of the things here, but your character could have a single paralyzed leg, largely due to nerve damage. Could be traumatic or illness-related (e.g., cancer, infection, or multiple sclerosis).
Stroke (and other traumatic/acquired brain injuries) — stroke can cause a million different symptoms and depending on what happens to your character exactly, he might need crutches! A big portion of stroke survivors deal with hemiplegia and could use a crutch on their non-affected side, for example. Some kinds of stroke might cause your character to have troubles with balance and require a mobility aid to not fall. Of course stroke will also cause other symptoms for your character (it wouldn't be too realistic to only have him have problems with his legs) for example speech issues, headaches, or seizures. Stroke can happen to anyone, and it wouldn't be weird to have a younger character with it. Very common in real life but very rarely represented in fiction.
Limb difference — you can definitely write a character with a limb difference or an amputation without fetishizing it! The main concern with the fetishization is the concept of the robotic limb that works just as well as or even better than a meat leg, and thus the character is “fixed”. But your character could just… not use a prosthetic. A lot of congenital amputees, people with limb differences, or with high level (above knee) amputations might do that. He could also have a leg length difference, which could cause him to need crutches (for example, Morteza Mehrzad has one of his legs significantly shorter after a pelvic injury, and he uses crutches among other mobility aids).
Chronic pain — very broad category for too many specific conditions to count. Neuropathy in the legs and/or lower back could be a reason for using crutches, for example. Unhealed, or poorly healed past injuries. Arthritis in knees or hips. Hypermobility that makes him unsteady or dislocate joints. Pain in bones or muscles where he can't fully weight-bear.
Gait disorders — another broad category (sorry). Your character could have problems with his gait and need aids for that. It could be caused by dyspraxia (I have it), ataxia, progressive muscular dystrophy (there is a lot of different types), Parkinson's disease, or a lot of other things! Could also be injury related.
And of course you could have multiple characters that are disabled to make sure that there is some variety :)
I hope that the above list gave you some ideas for your character :-) (smile) if you have more questions, feel free to send another ask
mod Sasza
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colubrina ¡ 9 months ago
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How I Got My Agent, Take Two
I’m so ridiculously over the top happy to say I’ve signed with a literary agent to sell my magical bookbinder book.  This has been a long process that started in 2017, and I’m genuinely overjoyed.
It played out thus:
Write book one.
Write book two. Query the book.
Write book three. Query the book.
Write book four. Get into Pitch Wars with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.
Write book five. Get into Author Mentor Match with the book. (Yay!) Query the book.
Write book six.
Write book seven.
Write book eight.
Write book nine.
Get a Revise and Resubmit offer from an agent for book five. Do it.
Start querying book six.
Get an offer from the R&R (Yay!)
Write book ten.
Book five dies on submission.
Start writing book eleven.
My agent and I amicably part ways.
Start writing book twelve.
Finish querying book six.
Query book ten.
Start writing book thirteen.
Go back to book eleven.
Go to a live pitch event. Pitch book eleven to two agents. Neither likes it. One asks what else I’m working on, and when I do the one sentence pitch for book twelve, says, “I could sell that.”
Pivot to finishing that book.
Query book twelve, sending queries first to four agents who only want queries and who are actively requesting off those queries. Get a 75% request rate. Query is fire. Check.  Unfortunately, every agent rejects when they see the opening pages, which turn out not to be fire.
Revise opening
Resume querying book twelve.  In case you’ve lost count, while this is the twelfth book I’ve written, it’s ‘only’ the seventh I’ve queried.
Finish drafting book thirteen in NaNo. Revise. Send to CPs.
Have existential crisis on a Tuesday. Meltdown on Tumblr. Weep in my living room. All my books have failed.  I do not know how to write a better book.  Maybe I should give up. This turns out to be a very well-timed dark night of the soul within the narrative.
Get two full requests for book twelve on Wednesday.
Get an email telling me one of my short stories has been held for consideration on Thursday.
On Friday get an email that the woman who handles submissions for one of those agents from Wednesday loved the book but she doesn’t think it’s a great fit for the agent I queried.  Would I mind if she forwarded it in-house to a different agent?  In shocking news, I would not mind this. 
On Monday, get an email asking for a call.
On Wednesday, which is Valentine’s Day, have a call with the agent.  She’s lovely in every way, her thoughts on the book are so good, every editorial idea she floats is good. Like, really good.  She is super enthusiastic about repping the book and offers to do so.
There is an etiquette requirement at this point that I tell any agent who has the book that I have an offer on the table and give them two weeks to respond, so I go around nudging all the agents with a full (four people) and several agents who only have a query. Three more agents request fulls. The rejections start trickling in.  People are very sweet and complimentary, and I am deeply, deeply relieved that I never waver from how much I adore the original offering agent.
I sign with her on February 29.
Final stats for Book Twelve (THE ARCHIVE OF THE WORLD):
Total Queries Sent:  39 Requests Before Offer: 8 (20.5% request rate) Request Rate Including Post-Offer Requests: 28.2%
Year I Started this Nonsense:  2017 Total Queries Sent across 7 books:  456
Takeaway wisdom:  The query trenches are a soul-mangling machine into which we all keep putting our souls and most of us don’t make it out unmangled.  I am not unmangled. BUT, I am a persistence hunter, and I will walk steadily towards publishing until it lies down in exhaustion and gives up.
Thanks for hanging out with me as I do.
Also, this book is so much fun.  You’re going to love it.
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nocturnalrorobin ¡ 7 months ago
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My little headcannon to when you want to join crews, cp 0. I might add more over time. ~ Enjoy! ******************************************
The Kid pirates: “What's that little kitten you wanna join us?” The red-haired pirate smirked devilish at you. Four huge men towered over you, one taller than the other, and each just shared a knowing look with each other. “You know we have been on sea for weeks, and we are starving for some entertainment. So before we test your fighting ability, you should take care of the four of us!” The captain came closer and licked his crimson lips. His hand cupped your face and his thumb caressed your lips, he wanted to feel those lips around his girthy cock. “Last chance to run away kitty!” He said, but you just smirked at him. With one swift motion he threw you over his shoulder and the five of you went to the playroom. 
Strawhats: “You wanna join us? Ok!” The happy boy just replied. “LUFFY! At least ask some questions!?” You heard it from the rest of the crew, but Luffy didn't care; he already said yes. You could tell things wouldn't be boring with him and the rest of the crew.
Heartpirates: You heard about the surgeon of death before, and you wanted to be part of his crew, if nothing else, because you were interested in medicine and who was better to train you? “Sure. You can join y/n-ya. Bepo show them the ropes and give them a white jumpsuit.” The tired captain looked at you one more time and said “Welcome to the crew, y/n-ya.” 
Cp0: You always wanted to be an agent for the world government, your entire life you trained for this. You entered the building, and the one that was in charge of you was Rob Lucci. “I expect absolute leniency and professionalism. Failure and weakness will not be tolerated. Go get to the training room. I want a spa match with you to see how capable you are.” He said in a stern and emotionless voice while coldly looking down at you. You could feel a shiver running down your spine. You wanted him to dominate you and devour you.  You wanted to beg him for mercy while he was edging you relentlessly. “Stop gawking and get moving!” He grunted, annoyed.  
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