#it has happened so many times in the past before humanity

[iz-star]

My thoughts and guesses / theories about Zayne's upcoming main story branch.

Like I've said in previous posts, I've been hella busy with work and most of all, exhausted so I haven't been able to come here and scream about the game updates (let alone draw something) but I still want to summarize my reactions from the past few days.

About the main story update, I'm really excited to see what's going to happen! I love the Dawnbreaker references but I have to be honest, I don't really think this is Dawnbreaker, he's still Dr Zayne (they both are part of each other somehow, but you understand what I mean).

Here's why:

At first, I genuinely thought this time we really would get the chance to interact with Dawnbreaker since Zayne is wearing DB's outfit and not a jumpscare outfit like in Snowy Serenity but the more I watched the trailer, the more I realized that this is still Dr Zayne which both makes me feel alleviated (cause if it were to be Dawnbreaker, it would leave us wondering where Dr Zayne is) and scared cause if he gets to suffer/ sacrifice himself in this time line like he did as Foreseer and MoF, I don't know well how I'll handle it.

He's a male lead so I don't think they will kill him off (? but somehow with Zayne one never knows, he's honestly always surprising us. In any case, my wildest theory is that if something happens to Dr Zayne, then we'll continue his branch with Dawnbreaker... idk? Anyway, don't really pay too much attention to this since it's most unlikely that something like this happens.

The impression I got after watching the trailer so many times is that this is actually Dr Zayne in the process of becoming 'Dawnbreaker' (maybe not exactly his other self but the concept) which has been one of his biggest fears; the reason? Because the Xander Sciences experiments, the severe cases of Protocore Syndrome and Metaflux anomalies are probably speeding the process of humanity to get doomed since in Dawnbreaker's world, humans turning into wanderers is something pretty recurrent and the very reason Zayne is a killer and his world is apocalyptic. Dr Zayne knows of this, he knows using protocores in human hearts is dangerous (the very reason he gave up his research in university), he also knows that to be exposed to big quantities of metaflux is what turns humans into Wanderers, he knows it because when he and William fought side by side in Mt Eternal, it was in order to destroy a Protofield that got out of hand and the Metaflux anomalies there were bringing to land more Wanderers. It was until they destroyed the protofield when William started to turn into an Abomination and then, a Wanderer.

In the trailer, Dr Zayne says something like 'We have no choice but to destroy this place" so my guess is that there is another big Metaflux anomaly like in Mt Eternal but this time in a place where there is a lot of ppl and due to being exposed to it, they're turning into Wanderers, something that Zayne as a Doctor can't cure: "Aren't you a Doctor. You should've save me!"

In fact, this is something he can only cure as Dawnbreaker:

I'm really interested to know who was the guy who asked Zayne to kill him. My guesses are:

William (and this probably a flashback).

Carter

Greyson (most unlikely since the voice didn't mach but goshh could you imagine the angst if it was him??)

So if there is another Metaflux anomaly it means that there's a Protofield that got out of hand and it probably was in either Akso Hospital or Xander Sciences company cause they had a special patient that accoring to what they say in the trailer, had a fragil heart that would've stopped long ago.

If I'm not mistaken (and since I'm currently sleepy and feeling lazy) in the World Underneath anecdotes Carter and Xander Sciences tried to keep some patients alive or to revive them using protocores and keeping him in pods but it didn't work? However, long before these anecdotes were released, we knew that there were already organizations doing research about immortality:

It seems that 'A special energy field' is necesary in order to reach better conditions to regenerate the human heart. What if this 'special energy field' is something similar to a Protofield? If we remember correctly, in both Rafayel and Xavier's myths MC's heart was necessary for them to live mortal lifes? In Rafayel's case, she seemed to give them some kind of energy? But at the same time she couldn't leave their city neither. In Xavier's case, her heart was like an unending source of energy for Philos core and they wanted to feed Philos core with her so they would stop to sending humans and then Philos core would stop crearing wanderers.

In both cases, it seems that MC is the source of energy of a Protofield that both gives it enough quantities of energy to keep it balanced and making ppl within this field to be immortal (like her) without the risk of becoming wanderers. In Rafayel's myth, she was already the source of this field, so there are actually no wanderers in this myth. In Xavier's myth, she wasn't the source of it so they were creating wanderers bc of it.

What if in this case, Xander Sciences discovers that the key to reach immortality lies in creating a Protofield with enough energy to create the needed conditions to regenerate human hearts for indefinite amount of time and that the KEY to achieve this lies in MC's aether core??

What if what Zayne is trying to protect here is MC's heart so they won't use her to reach immortality, EVEN if he knows that this most likely will avoid tons of deaths and will stop the creation of wanderers and ALSO will avoid his future as Dawnbreaker but even so he chooses to save her, just like he did as Foreseer and Master of Fate.

And lastly, he mentions "When that day comes... When I can't wake up" my only guesses are:

His nightmare of becoming "The Grim Reaper" will become true.

By destroying the Protofield that is creating the anomaly, he also freezes himself?

Maybe he steals part of MC's power or even he takes the creatio protocore he gave to her as Foreseer and uses it on himself so instead of using her as the source of energy for this Protofield, he offers himself as this unending source of energy? (This one is quite wild and seems unlikely to happen but I still wanted to mention it ahaha).

Anyway these are all my thoughts for now. Please take this with a grain of salt, since these are only silly theories and nothing official. We'll have to wait some days more to discover the truth.

[moricodex]

🔎Film Noire🔎and 💾Internet Academia💾

For an F/o of your choosing 👀

🔎Honestly, the invisible man, the 1933 version. I saw it as a kiddo and it stuck with me ever since. Although a rewatch is long overdue. 💾I used the internet to study a few things; Psychology, (Social behaviour, cause & effect, upbringing, disorders ext.) biology & Physical geography mostly. With a side of criminal psychology, just a bit, I swear I don't dive head-first into true crime sometimes. Honestly, I'm just obsessed with how the world works from the ground up, not really an interest in what humans make and why, but the blueprints for the world itself and life? If that makes sense. A bonus with the study of the mind is understanding why people are what they are, and using that info to either A) Avoid or B) Help is very useful to me. ( Additional letter; C) Challenge them but that is rare)

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[alexiroflife]

"tears"

fluff for the sukuna fans bc i've been in a soft sukuna mood

ryomen sukuna x reader

Synopsis: sukuna isn't a stranger to arguments with you, but when he catches you crying after a particularly harsh one, he finds himself scrambling to fix it... in his own way

to sum it up: sukuna is an asshole but he loves you, so he tries his best

WC: 3,296

Warning(s): a lil angst

You knew exactly what you were getting into when you first started a relationship with the infamous king of curses, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less when his tendency to be an asshole hurt your feelings. 

You know Sukuna isn’t a sentimental person who cares much for things like verbal reassurance, or consideration for the way the things he says can impact you, or anyone for that matter, but damn! Sometimes, he’s just too much of a jerk for you to handle, and Sukuna himself has no idea why your fragile human emotions sway you to be so affected by him. He doesn’t even think he’s said anything wrong the times in which you grow angry with him.

Now, Sukuna can handle your anger. Anger is good. Anger means that there is something he can react to, something he can tame or involve into your intimacies when he takes your mind off of silly arguments or subdues your attitude over what he deems to be small inconveniences. Anger is the only human emotion that he has felt himself in his many years of existence, so he knows what to expect. He understands it. He’s not, in the slightest, intimidated by it.

But what Sukuna finds he can not handle is the sound of your sniffles that resound from behind your door after you’ve just slammed it into his face. Sukuna angles his brows, pressing his ear to the door in confusion. Are you… cold? Coming down with a fever? What the hell are you sniffing your nose so much for?

Then he hears the meek gasps that intercept, the vocalization of pain that creeps into your weakened inhalations that accompany your damned sniffling. That’s when he realizes that you’re crying, and his pupils shrink slightly knowing that he has gone a little too far this time. 

Hell, how is he supposed to handle you crying? He can’t fuck your sadness away like he can with your irritation. He can’t mirror your sadness, since he has no clue what the hell it’s supposed to feel like. He can’t empathize with it either, for he has no idea what he could have done to bring tears to your eyes and empathy, well, it’s not in his vocabulary to begin with. It’s pathetic, he thinks, the way you have allowed him to bother you this much…

Yet it kills him to know that he’s the reason behind your tears.

He stands there for some time, unsure of what to do. Should he get Uraume to handle this? No, that may make things worse. You may want to be alone.

He turns to leave, but something stops him. He feels an ache in his chest, pressing his hand to his bicep. What the hell? What is this feeling?

He can still hear you crying, and somehow, it sounds like it’s getting worse, louder, or perhaps that is all in his head. He can no longer tell, but that sound you’re making is the only thing occupying his mind, and it’s ruining him. It’s making his chest tighten, his brow furrow, his lips press together tightly. He should leave, but he doesn’t want to. He doesn’t want to abandon you like this. 

Never once in his life has Sukuna felt remorse. Not even for all the times he has made you angry in the past when you two have had arguments. He is so quick to blame your reactions to things on your feeble human emotions. He is so quick to evade responsibility, or more so, refrain from guilting himself over the things he is responsible for. He is so quick to dismiss you, but it’s always fine because he has never witnessed you grow sad over his behavior, not until now.

Sukuna turns back to your door slowly. His hand flies to grab the handle to throw the door open, but he hesitates. He’s unsure of what’s happening to him, for he’s never hesitated before in his life. This, you crying, him second guessing himself, it’s all so new and he hates it. He needs to fix this immediately. 

What do you humans like when you are upset? There’s a word that’s slipping his mind, one he always hears you pester him for but turns down repeatedly. He had found the concept so irrelevant that he hadn’t even bothered to recall what it’s called.

He crosses his arms and stares ahead harshly in thought, then it comes to him. An apology! Yes, that’s what it is. But of course, you can’t expect him to verbalize such a thing. You must want something as a gift. A physical representation of his desire not to see you cry. He rushes off to locate Uraume for preparations.

About an hour later, you’re curled up on your bed and facing the wall with a blank stare. Your tears stopped a while ago, and since you hadn’t heard from Sukuna, you assumed he just didn’t care about your feelings. Like always.

“Oi,” a gruff voice through the door startles you. You jump and turn over, curling your brows in confusion at the sound of Sukuna’s voice. For a moment, you don’t believe he is speaking to you, so you wait some time to see if he will speak again. “I know you can hear me in there,” his voice sounds again, and you groan.

“Go away,” you tell him, flipping back over.

Sukuna, on the other side of the wall, clicks his tongue in agitation. “Quit your pouting and come open this door.”

“No. Until you learn how to treat me better, I don’t want to see you.”

Treat you better? Sukuna doesn’t understand this nonsense. You live in his large estate, you’re pampered by servants, showered with gifts and homemade meals, you sleep by his side every night, and he allows you to disrespect him far more often than he should. Not to mention, he has his arms full of presents at this very moment that are preventing him from opening the door himself. How can he possibly treat you any better than he’s already treating you?

He growls lowly and closes his eyes in irritation. “If you open the door, your mood will improve.”

“I don’t want anything other than what I just said.”

Sukuna’s eye twitches. Why are you so damn difficult? “What is your-”

“Go. Away.”

Oh. Alright, then. 

You sit up abruptly when Sukuna’s foot breaks in the door with a loud crash. You stare with wide eyes, the door, now off its hinge, creaking open weakly to reveal the king of curses with his arms full of several bouquets of flowers.

“What the fuck, Sukuna?!” you cry. He only stares frustratedly as he walks into the space univinted.

“This was going to go on for too long if I hadn’t done something,” he says, approaching the side of your bed.

“You can’t just- fuck! What is wrong with you?”

Okay… this is already going poorly. 

This is not the reaction he had desired from you, and perhaps he should have revisited the idea of kicking in the door, but he had been growing impatient. Despite his big talk, he doesn’t like when you speak to him in such a cold way. He doesn’t like being separated from you. He doesn’t like not being able to see your face, and after all the work he has just done to collect these plants for you, he can not tolerate being turned away. 

“Must you be so dramatic?” he tsks. “Do you not see what I have brought to you? Don’t you humans like these things?”

You stare at him incredulously, mouth agape. Sukuna can see the tear stains clear on your face, and his heart clenches again. God, why is that sight so abominable? 

He holds his arms out, presenting the flowers to you as if you could have possibly missed them. “They are yours. Take them and be done with this.”

“Be done with what, Sukuna?” you shake your head, face scrunched.

“With your tantrum- your tears, and the sniffles. Be done with them now. Here.”

You scoff. “Do you even know why you're giving these to me?”

Sukuna raises a brow. “To cease your tantrum. As I just said.”

“I can’t with you sometimes, Sukuna. Honestly.” 

“This is really the thanks that I get for bringing you these damn flowers? I thought you were supposed to like things like this. Why would you make me waste my time?”

“If you think it’s a fucking waste of time to bring me flowers, then there’s your problem right there,” you raise your voice, pointing at him accusingly. Sukuna’s face hardens. He thinks you’re getting angry again, but he can still see the sadness behind your eyes. You look almost… defeated. “And if you knew me at all, you’d know that I never cared about any of that stuff. I never cared about the flashiness or the gifts or whatever the fuck.”

Sukuna lowers his hands, letting the bouquets drop carelessly to the floor. “Now you are accusing me of not knowing you?” he seethes. “I’m not sure when you decided that it was acceptable for you to speak to me this way, but I will not tolerate it. I do nothing but dote on you, you ungrateful brat.”

“Yeah, sure, you dote on me, and then you turn around and berate me and call everything I feel stupid because you don’t care to even try to understand why some of the things you say are not okay!”

Sukuna walks closer to invade your personal space, leaning in to glare angrily at you as you do the same. This is what he knows. This is what he chooses to respond to. Not the curl in your brow, not the tremble of your lips, not the unsteadiness of your voice, but your anger. “Why should I care if all you do is whine,” he grumbles. 

You clamp your mouth shut as a lump forms in your throat. Sukuna watches you unravel before him, and while he tries to keep an unmoved expression, he is internally panicking when he sees your eyes gloss over again and your nose flare. 

Shit. He’s supposed to be making you feel better. How has he gone and made things worse again? Why is he incapable of understanding how to be what you want him to be?

You take in a trembling inhale as your hands clench and unclench at your sides. You don’t want him to see you cry. You don’t want him to call you weak, but you can’t help the tear that breaks past your lashes and dashes down your cheek, a physical display of your heartache. 

Sukuna’s crimson eyes fly to the tear, and his brows smooth out against his intent. 

Shit. Shit. Shit.

You’re crying again, and it’s his fault. It’s always been his fault. What is this now that he’s feeling? Regret? Shame? Is that what is clawing at his chest and stripping him of his resolve? Making him wish to replay this entire interaction so that you do not appear before him with tears in your eyes once more? Is this what it is to fall? 

You rub angrily at your eyes and huff, turning away from him and plopping back down on your bed, back facing him. You shut yourself away, close yourself off, and deprive Sukuna of your pretty face for the second time today. “Just leave me alone. You’ve made it perfectly clear that you don’t give a fuck about me or anything, for that matter.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen slightly with the deepening of his frown. That ache he has felt in his chest spreads throughout his body, serving as tension in his back, head, and shoulders. You think he doesn’t care for you? What nonsense. You’re the only being on this planet who has made a millennia of existence worth living, and you think he doesn’t care?

Sukuna can not even pin the blame onto you this time around. He can not accuse you of overreacting, nor can he evade such a thing that is so clearly his doing. He has made you feel uncared for, and while his temper may get out of hand, and his inability to fully comprehend the plagues of the human mind gets in the way, and he never tells you that he loves you, making you feel unloved is the last thing he ever meant to do. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, but you do not move. You cling to yourself for comfort because you do not believe he can provide any for you. “Brat-” he starts, but rethinks. He reaches his hand out to you. “(Y/n). Enough of this.”

“I don’t want to see you right now, Sukuna. Can’t you respect at least that for once?” you croak. 

His hand freezes and he lets it fall. Respect. Understanding. That is what you want from him, and he has not been giving it to you. He has not been giving you anything that you request of him emotionally, for that matter. He has been neglecting your mental needs whilst overpowering you with the physical, and it’s drawn you away from him. 

He could force you to get up. He could drag you by your hair to his bedroom. He could make you look him in the eye, make you stay with him, make you stay silent about this from this point on and forever more. Sukuna has the power and the authority to do so…

But the idea is not appealing. Not in the slightest.

Sukuna wants you happy. He wants you to want to be with him willingly, and if he ignores your consent now of all times, it would be like throwing away the life he has built with you. Throwing away your desires, and Sukuna does not long for a world in which you are any more uncomfortable than you already are. 

He takes a step back, looking over the flowers that he has dropped, and accepts the will of the mortal he fell in love with. 

“I will be in my chambers if or whenever you wish to see me,” he says lowly, giving in. He moves to leave but stops himself once more. He never had stopped himself this much before. “...I apologize for making you cry. I will send someone to fix your door immediately.”

Sukuna is well on his way when he hears you shuffling behind him. He turns, admittedly hopeful for your reaction, and finds you peeking in confusion over your shoulder. “...What did you just say?” you whisper.

The king of curses stalls, looking directly into your eyes from across the room. He feels suddenly… weak. Vulnerable. For the first time, he has relented his power for you to take hold of, and it feels strange to say the very least. “Do you wish for me to repeat myself?”

You sit up slowly, turning around. You knuckle at your red nose, watching him suspiciously. “I do. I may have misheard you.”

He studies you for a moment until he realizes that you are being facetious. “You heard me the first time.”

“Maybe I just want you to say it again.”

Sukuna sighs heavily. “I did not intend to make you cry, nor did I intend to make you feel as though I do not care for you. That is a foolish thought, but I understand I do not convey the depth of my feelings for you the way you wish me to convey it.”

You look dumbfounded as you stare at him in silence. Sukuna clicks his tongue, unsure of how you are going to respond. 

“Quit staring at me and say something, woman.”

“I just… never thought…” you trail off, swallowing harshly. “I never thought you would ever say something like that to me.”

“You will only hear me say such things when you are- when I’ve made you unhappy,” he clarifies firmly. Your nose twitches, an involuntary movement that Sukuna catches and finds entirely too adorable. Your eyes are still damp, but your breathing has evened out. 

“That’s the first,” you quip.

“Enough.”

You press your lips together, glancing at the flowers Sukuna brought you. Just then, you notice that they are your favorite. 

You tell yourself you knew what you were getting into when you first started dating the king of curses, but at times you forget that Sukuna is in fact a demon, and a king at that. He does not believe in any better than what he is.

“You hurt my feelings, Sukuna,” you say softly. “Don’t you get what that means? At least for me?”

“No,” he responds honestly. “But I do see now that you have different needs. And I understand that I refuse to watch you cry if there is something I can do about it.”

You try to remain angry with him. You try to keep yourself distanced, but you can not help the way that you are softening, and Sukuna notices. A hint of a smirk curves at the corner of his lips. 

“Is that all I had to say to make this better?”

“Shut the hell up,” you hiss. “It wouldn’t have killed you to apologize for the hundreds of other times we’ve fought, you know.”

“You weren’t crying the other times, woman.”

“It doesn’t matter,” you roll your eyes. 

Sukuna tilts his head, placing a hand on his hip. “You’re not still upset, are you?”

“Yes,” you pout, and he catches on.

“What is it you want now, to be pampered like a spoiled brat?” 

He makes the suggestion as if to offend you, but the two of you both know that he is hardly making a joke. “What I want is for you to fuck off.”

A chuckle rumbles in Sukuna’s throat as he makes his way over to you. You immediately break and screech when he yanks you forward by your ankle and loops you up into his arms before sitting down on your bed and setting you in his lap. 

He looks you dead in the eye and lifts a rough thumb, swiping stubbornly at your tear stains and your damp lashes. “Crybaby,” he mutters, and you swat his hand away.

“Whatever, asshole.” You push at his chest with weak contempt and he looks at you boredly.

“You’re pitiful,” he grumbles, gripping your chin securely and guiding it to him. His blood red eyes seep into yours, gazing intently. “No more tears, do you understand?”

“Then don’t make me sad.”

“I won’t,” he tells you confidently.

A smile twitches on your lips as you look over him, completely unfamiliar with this side of the king of curses. “Can you do one more thing for me, and then I’ll maybe think about forgiving you?” you bite your lip, pressing your finger to his broad shoulder.

Sukuna grunts. “More demands, huh? I suppose you know how to take advantage of a situation. What more do you want?”

You wrap your arms over his neck. “Tell me how much you care about me,” you sing. 

“Did I not just do so?”

“No, I want you to spell it out. Tell me you love me.”

“I highly tolerate you.”

“Tell me you loveeee me.”

“You are the only human being I do not frown upon.”

“Sukuna.”

“Christ, woman, you’re mine. Isn’t that enough?” he grits his teeth and you snort, patting his cheek gently. 

“For now.”

“Such a pest, you know that?” he mumbles, pushing in swiftly to press his lips firmly to yours in a swift peck. “Don’t ever say I don’t care for you again. It is the most false and offensive thing I have ever heard."

[deadsetobsessions]

Ghost King Phantom was an odd addition to the League. J’onn was often the last to find others odd but from the get-go, Phantom was the only quiet spot he’d have in his telepathic field. At first, it was off putting as most of the people that slipped beyond the reach of his immediate field tended to be villains and the like. But as Phantom remained in the Justice League, J’onn had come to learn to appreciate the calm spot in the turbulent sea of his friends’ and coworkers’ thoughts.

“You have taken to me faster than the others. Why is that?”

Phantom hummed purringly, another peculiar sound that J’onn had yet to see any of his human or alien heroes recreate with any success. They sat at their usual spot, face facing the cosmos and backs guarded by their friends. Plus, J’onn and Phantom could look directly into the sun without painfully loosing their sight.

“I guess I’ve always been fond of the stars. Of space, and everything in it. What about you? Why did we become friends so fast?”

J’onn shook his head, a human motion he’d learned a long time ago to imitate. “No, we became slower friends than most, as my telepathic abilities allow for easier communication and understanding of one another’s motives. With the exception of Batman but I have found he is often the exception to most expectations.”

“That checks out,” King Phantom laughed. “Well, I’m glad we became friends. It’s very cool to meet a Martian. Space is one of my Obsessions, you see.”

J’onn nodded. “I see. I am sorry that I am the only Martian you will meet.”

“You are?”

J’onn nodded again, slower. Sadder. His facial muscles, in this form, does not imitate human patterns well and he knew that most people could not pick out his emotions without his verbal expression.

Intuition tells J’onn that Phantom knew regardless.

“Would you mind telling me what happened?” His voice is gentle, the emotions that Phantom pushes at him are gentle and questing, but not demanding. It has been a long time since anyone has asked him of memories he clung to. And so, J’onn J’onzz speaks in the way that was natural to him, the way his people communicated.

With his mental voice flowing into Phantom’s head, J’onn tells him of the wonders that used to be his home. He provided images and sounds of how his home shone as the sun rose, how the shadows that fell when the sun dipped beneath the horizon felt as comforting as a Martian’s first telepathic cradle. He tells Phantom of his twin brother, grief and agony entwined in the memories of someone he had loved. He spoke of his wife and their daughter, and their cozy home on the windswept plains of Mars.

King Phantom sat still with him as the Watch-Tower moved along, around a king and his friend who was recounting the stagnant grief of his past.

J’onn tells him of the virus, borne of his twin’s hatred, and how he watched everything around him burn. How he had desperately tried to prevent his wife and daughter from using their telepathic abilities. He spoke of his failures. He wove together a tapestry of insanity and grief, built upon the burning bodies of his wife and their beloved daughter. He tells Phantom how the Mars now was just ashes and dust of his former home. How he could not look upon the planet and not see the shades of his wife and daughter and parents and friends, walking upon a barren planet that no longer held anything familiar to the last Martian.

Phantom had hummed again, a soothing rumble. Sadness dripped from the edges of his consciousness.

“If it was not for the Doctor, I would be dead and shattered.” J’onn spoke for the first time in three hours. “It is… less painful to live. I have purpose.”

“I am glad that you are not either of those things.” Phantom stood. “Come with me. I have to show you something.”

J’onn trusted Phantom, and thus followed the king into the glowing green portal.

They flew past many doors, Phantom often glancing at him before shaking his head and changing directions.

They stopped at a door that felt familiar. J’onn knew it from somewhere.

“Go ahead, open the door. But know that you can’t stay long. You don’t belong to this realm quite yet. Not for quite a while.” Phantom moves, hand gesturing towards the door without a knob.

“How..?”

“How else? You have telekinesis, don’t you?”

J’onn blinked. Right. He opened the door and- oh.

The door warped with the screaming storm of grief and love and oh-how-I’ve-missed-you that J’onn unleashed.

Because there in front of him were M’yri’ah and K’hym, his wife and daughter.

The door was an imitation of his home, back when he had not known true loss.

“Impossible,” he stumbled back.

“You are in the realm of the dead. You didn’t think the title of the Ghost King was for fun, did you, J’onn?” Phantom smiled and- a move J’onn would definitely engage in petty payback for, later after he’d gotten over the shock- pushed him flying right into the room.

M’yri’ah and K’hym cradled him with telepathic swirls of love and husband!-dad!-love-love-love-safe!

And J’onn shuddered and gathered the his world in his arms to say goodbye.

——

[evilminji]

Been Watching Weird Fruit Explorer(?)... and I just...

W-Who let Bored Danny have BooTube?

Sorry, YOU-Tube. He has TWO Apps now. BooTube is bigger. Way more random, yet... somehow more niche? Meh. It's what happens when you get billions of billions of people who all have their own Obsessions to rant over, on a site.

Ember's channel is pretty lit, tho, ngl.

He stopped using YOU-Tube almost overnight. Too many ads, weird algorithmic pushiness. No thanks. It was too small and too "trying to take my money". You know?

Buuuuut? See.... TUCKER is the Tech guy.

Coding and that sort of stuff. HE does hands on work. You want a toaster? He can MAKE you a toaster! With LAZERS! Runs off The Goo! But a program? Eeeeeeeh? Hit it with hammer maybe? Monkey make fire? Hit with stick? Blergh.

Yeah, he can SORTA push through.

But he suuuucks.

And like... he had a headache, okay? His project had just, quiet literally, exploded in his face. So when he looked at his phone? All the apps were blobs. He clicked the one that LOOKED kinda right. Shoved his arm in his phone and brute forced a channel set up.

He figured he could ramble about Space!

It's not like he cared is anyone LISTENS or not! It's a "for him" thing, you know? Like a diary. But more... putting on a ☆~show~☆?

So he rambles from the floor of his Lair's Lab, crashs and wails in the distance, green sky occasionally visible as he lazily floats by windows. Dropping... juuuust past human knowledge understanding of Space. Talking like he's STUDYING somewhere. Referencing PAPERS no human will ever be able to find.

But a few they WILL.

Some of which, are currently? Only half written.

But then? Oh YEAH... he should eat! You know... Sam keeps bringing him fruits and veggies and stuff from her internship at that Botanical Lair. Stuff never seen before of Earth. Or hasn't been seen in centuries.

Again, like, a FEW that? Randomly? Have???

He picks up something sharply purple, bright orange insides. Crisp crunch. He makes a face. And starts to ramble about it, distracted from Space. "Weirdly mushroom-y" he notes. "Kinda bubblegum sweet? But like... CHEAP bubblegum. Like it hits you all at once and is kinda chemically. But it disappears real fast? Huh. Spicy too..."

It's the first video on the Playlist. One of hundreds. Two of the green Lanterns RECONIZE that fruit ad HIGHLY toxic to humans, can't recognize what planet they're seeing. Or how this alien teen got himself on YouTube.

He seems... unaware of how incredibly famous he's become.

But his strange techno Pharoah friend has not. HE is both perfectly aware and apparently amused. Has taken to feeding him rare and hazardous flora and fauna, to see if it tastes good.

....there have been an alarming number of plants from dead planets.

And the comments the kid makes? Alarming as hell.

Sam's just pleased everybody's getting their greens. Danny's glad him n tuck get to hang and do "try weird foods and fuck around, bro time". They've made lazers! Talked about stuff! Debated why Martian Manhunter is THE superior Justice League member.

Danny understands. Wonder Woman is a BAMF. But he's biased, Tucker. He doesn't CARE if she has a sword and flowy, impressive locks! Shape-shifting telepath! From MARS!!! *imaginary mic drop*

And Tucker? Is conquering the YouTube scene with this charming, weird, relatable young alien. Who rambles about Space, debates nerd stuff, eats weird plants and describes them, and makes sci-fi technology! Theme? WHAT THEME? Phantom is a weird channel, man. You never know what you'll find!

And no one can get rid of it.

Believe them, governments have TRIED. Censorship? Not possible. Not without removing the whole SITE.

[zillychu]

I’ve gotten a WAVE of asks about this AU, so I decided to flesh it out some more and answer some of those questions!

I’ll probably polish this extended summary up at some point and submit it to AO3. But for now, here’s a rundown of my thoughts–please feel free to send more questions! I’ll update this post if I get any more. But if you’re someone who wanted to write fic for it, don’t worry, you don’t need to take my headcanons as gospel. It’s a pretty basic AU honestly lol

Summary:

The portal accident results in a violent explosion that wipes out the whole block, and condemns all of Amity Park. Danny haunts the city for 100 years, before Sam and Tucker find him. 

Setup:

In the 1920’s, 19-year-old Danny went into the incomplete portal on his own, hoping to help out his parents. Ripping the portal open through unnatural means created a huge burst of energy that resulted in a massive explosion. A good portion of the Amity Park population died, many were injured, and the ones on the fringes relocated–Amity was quickly deemed too dangerous due to the excess ectoplasm in the area that attracted ghosts. 

While the disaster was in Amity, the fallout was seen around the globe. Before, natural portals were rare, short-lived, and rarely allowed ghosts to fully slip into our realm (the most severe cases being on par with poltergeists that most people didn’t believe in). Now, natural portals pop open frequently around the world, large enough to allow the entirety of a ghost into the physical plane. They’re more common the closer you get to Amity, but they happen enough elsewhere that this change was something of a small apocalypse before people settled back down and found out how to combat at least some of their new, permanent neighbors. 

Danny is unaware that he’s only half-dead, believing he’s a full ghost. He ends up sticking around Amity, unintentionally making it his haunt. His grief and guilt over causing the death of his loved ones (and many others) makes him isolate and avoid human contact. Though he has, at times, scared nosy people away from the city in a mix of territorial instinct–and to get them to leave before a less friendly ghost finds them. 

Ghosts are much more of an uncontested danger in this AU. Lesser ghosts are practically mindless, and while stronger ghosts are capable of reason, their interests are limited. They’re highly territorial, possessive, and often destructive. Most worrisome is that they also like to snack on the life force of anything alive. No one is sure what dictates a ghost’s propensity to attack or hunt the living for their life force since ghosts don’t exactly experience hunger. At least, not the way we do. If a human is rescued before their life force is fully drained, they can make a full recovery–though humanity has still not yet found what this “life force" is. 

And since the Fentons’ research died along with them, there aren’t many tools available to the public to protect them from ghosts. Most homes have standard ghost shields and some weapons are available on the market, but certified ghost hunters are required to take care of anything more powerful than your average spook. 

Sam and Tucker met in high school, and are now rooming together for college very close to the Amity border. Rent is surprisingly cheap when you’re a stone’s throw away from a condemned area crawling with ghosts. Sam is the one who drags Tucker along with her fascination over finding out more about the city, and its largely mysterious demise. Sam is aware of the danger, but feels ghosts have a place in this world just like everything else, and does exercise caution–like one would while foraging in the woods with a known tiger population. 

What she and Tucker weren’t expecting was to run into a ghost that felt almost human. One that hasn't hurt them, not for lack of trying–while being powerful enough to walk past ghost shields without so much as a flinch. The long white hair is familiar in the whispers of the ectobiologist community, but there’s no way it could be the rumored ghost king Phantom, right?

About Danny:

He has very long hair, claws, and black sclera. His hazmat suit is more torn and ragged, with exposed hands and feet that fade into a burnt black.

His hair tends to float a lot on its own. It can start morphing into fire under duress. 

He does still technically have gloves and boots, they've just charred and melted into his skin towards the ends. He can't take them off in his ghost form. His hands and feet have a leathery texture that's tougher than the rest of his skin.

The white of his hazmat suit is both supposed to look like flames, and also a battered look representing his more violent, explosive death.

Overall, he appears rather listless and sad, with an unnerving air of danger around him–even for a ghost. 

Danny’s “ghost sense” comes out as white smoke.

He does breathe black smoke at times, usually when agitated. 

He's already fought and defeated Pariah Dark by the time Sam and Tucker find him, technically making him the Ghost King. This is heavily speculated by ghost experts, despite there being no real proof beyond a massive battle that scarred Illinois. He has not donned the Ring or the Crown, and captured sentient ghosts are hesitant to answer questions surrounding him. Danny basically has the throne but doesn’t do anything with it, and finds it meaningless enough to routinely forget he has the title. He only fought Pariah because he knew otherwise, humanity would have perished. A lot of ghosts are scared of him because he's so hard to figure out, and he's strong. 

Danny is usually very quiet and speaks softly, because his lungs were damaged in the blaze that half-killed him. He's technically healed since becoming a ghost, so it's more of a compulsion due to the traumatic memory. That, and he’s just… very forlorn and distant, shy around humans who don’t seem to understand how dangerous it is to keep hanging around him.

His memories pre-accident are extremely fuzzy. He knows the very basics of who he was, but specifics have been muffled due to trauma and isolation. He routinely forgets human habits, etiquette, etc. and tends to act more like a full ghost with some odd quirks. 

He does try to scare Sam and Tucker off numerous times. Unfortunately for him, they realized they shouldn't have been able to escape a ghost that strong–but they did, because he let them. 

Sam and Tucker think he's mute at first! He doesn't speak a word to them until several encounters later, when he fumbles his whole scary act and saves them from another ghost. 

He’s still half-ghost, though he doesn’t figure this out until Sam and Tucker come along trying to unravel the mysteries behind the Amity catastrophe. Physically and emotionally, he’s been stuck for 100 years–so his human form is still 19. It’s unclear at this point if he can age normally like a human as long as he stays in human form, or if he’s immortal. 

Danny's family did not turn into ghosts, though he sometimes worries he'll find them in the afterlife as shells of their former selves. He doesn't know if it's better or worse that he's not sure he'd recognize them. 

(Danny also still has some living family. Take a guess.)

Yes, he knows how to Wail. Understandably, he very rarely uses it. You do not want to witness this.

Danny :) is not immune :) from the allure of eating a human's life force :)))

[frightwrite]

Werewolf Boyfriend: Aiden

CW: Breeding, Mention of pregnancy, Biting, Mention of blood

NSFW

Female Reader x Male Werewolf

It has been almost a week since your boyfriend last contacted you. It was a common occurrence, something that happened once every month. You at first assumed it was a work thing, too many projects added up before a quarter ended. But then the excuses started to come in. He needed to head back home to spend time with his family, he felt so sick he didn’t want to pass it onto you, unexpected guests. The list was never ending. It was starting to get to the point where you were assuming he had a secret lover. From your perspective it was the only logical option. Enough was enough you were going to get to the bottom of this.

That evening, Aiden had called you saying he wouldn’t be at his home since he had too much work in his office to fill out. As usual, you gave him the usual sugar-coated response of seeing him after he was done. As soon as the call hung up, you half haphazardly threw on your shirt and jeans before snatching your boyfriend’s spare key off the countertop. You probably looked insane, speeding down the highway in a fit of rage to catch your boyfriend red handed. It was a miracle you weren’t pulled over.

When you arrived at his secluded home on the outskirts of town, you used the key to enter. It was clear even before you set foot past the threshold that his place looked as though a tornado had ripped through it. His living room which was normally kept neat and orderly, had many of his books thrown around. The coffee table was flipped over and there were scratch marks in the leather of the couch. There were a bunch of rose petals and stems on the floor mixed in with shards of glass from a broken vase. You carefully stepped over it, trying not to accidentally step on any of the glass. The house was dark, save for a few novelty lamps that Aiden kept around throughout the home. The dim lighting created an eerie presence that you weren’t too sure about.

Your anger was quickly replaced with fear as you called out your boyfriend’s name, a slight tremble in your voice. It was like something out of a horror movie, and you mentally hit yourself for acting in such a cliche way. Calling out into the emptiness of the house was a quick and easy way to get yourself killed if the intruder was still there. Your heart sank at the thought, your eyes scanning the room to find a weapon to defend yourself with. Silently hoping that despite the mess and clear look of a struggle, you were able to find Aiden in one piece.

A long wooden beam from one of the broken dining room chairs was leaned up against the wall. It was basic, but it was a good enough weapon to hit an unsuspecting murderer over the head with. It could buy you some time. You called out Aiden’s name again as you made your way deeper into the house, a new found determination guiding you through the terrifying situation. 

A low rumble coming from the bedroom made you freeze. It didn’t sound human, and for a moment you wondered if whatever trashed Aiden’s place was one of the animals from the woods nearby. Your mind settled on it being a bear and you decided to try to be as quiet as possible from that point on. The grip you had on your makeshift weapon tightened as you took another step forward. As if the universe was playing a cruel joke on you, the floorboard creaked underneath your foot. You only had time to let out a brief curse before a heavy object flew into you, slamming you onto the floor. The air was pushed out of your lungs and your vision was blurred as your head spun. A low rumbling sound was heard above you after the ringing in your ears stopped and you blinked up at the black mass above you in confusion. Sitting on your body was a giant wolf like being. His beady eyes peered down at you as he let out a low growl. You stilled, your blood running cold as your heart hammered against your chest. 

The furry beast above you kept snarling, his sharp teeth bared and visible in the low lighting. He leaned down and you squeezed your eyes shut as his wet nose pressed against your neck. This was it, you were going to die at the hands of a rabid wolf monster and the last thoughts you had of your boyfriend were him cheating on you. You gave a silent apology to Aiden, waiting for you to befall the same unfortunate fate he had. Only, nothing happened. There was another brief pause until you felt something rough and wet against your neck. You shuddered at the feeling before reopening your eyes. The monster above you stared down at you, his ears now pressed flat against his head as he seemed to want to shrink into himself. 

A strange sound between a whimper and a howl left his jaw as he moved his large body off of you, giving you a moment to catch your breath and sit up. You gave the creature a curious look as the wolf creature said your name. Your eyes widened and you pushed away from the beast to bring distance between the two of you. 

“Why are you here?” He snarled. 

“I’m sorry? I don’t, um—” You tried speaking, feeling your voice get caught in your throat. He let out a low grumble. 

“It’s Aiden.”

You blinked. 

The werewolf in front of you watched as you stared at him, squinting your eyes as you assessed him and his demeanor. He remained unmoving, yet his heavy breathing was still filling in for the silence. The realization came across your face as you inched closer to him, staring into his familiar eyes. 

“Who…what happened to you?” Your voice quivered, a small amount of fear flashed on your face as he let out another snarl. Aiden seemed to struggle internally with himself,  his wolfish face turning away from you to avoid both your gaze and your scent. He moved to create space between the both of you again, his hulking form crouched on his hind legs as his beady eyes watched you intently from a safe distance. 

“Lycanthropy.” His voice was low as he spoke again, yet there was a hint of shame behind it as he shook his head. “You weren’t supposed to see me like this, ever. Especially tonight.”

You let what he said register in your mind before asking, “What’s so special about tonight?”

A low growl, this time his gaze turned to you briefly. “Heat cycle.”

Oh

Oh.

Your face got heated with embarrassment as you readjusted yourself. The only reason your boyfriend was avoiding you was because it was his werewolf breeding season thing and not because he was cheating on you. Which, when you put it that way, caused your heart to leap. You and Aiden weren’t virgins, having both already had sex with each other multiple times. You knew his body well. The little scars on his hands from various paper cuts, the mole just above his v-line, the little freckles on his torso. 

The large fuzzy body of Aiden now was new. Different…unexplored. His heated gaze watched as you stood up and closed the distance between the both of you. He backed away from you until his back hit against the hallway’s wall. His clawed hand shot up in front of him as the other went to cover his muzzle. 

“Don’t.” He growled, causing you to pause in your tracks. “Don’t you come any closer. I don’t want to hurt you.” 

You paused in your approach, the panic-stricken look only motivating you to alleviate his worries. Without another word, your hands reached up to unbutton the blouse you wore, tossing the shirt to the side. You could hear Aiden’s breath hitch at the sight of your bare chest, quickly taking notice how you weren’t wearing a bra underneath. You were in a hurry to leave your house and taking the extra time to put on a bra seemed tedious at that moment.

You approached Aiden who was captivated by your presence. His eyes staring hungrily at your curvy frame. He had seen you naked many times, but his senses seemed heightened. He was more affected by you and it took everything within him not to pounce on you right then and there. You slotted yourself between his legs, hands reaching up to caress the sides of his furry face. There was a low rumble that came from within him as you assumed you were managing to break through the wall he had put up. Your lips curved into a sweet smile, leaning closer so your chest pressed up against his. You shuddered at the feeling of your breasts rubbing against his fur, your nipples hardening at the contact. You lifted your chin up and stood on your toes, your lips brushed against the tip of his muzzle. 

“I want to help you, Aiden.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as you spoke. You watched excitedly as he growled down at you, before picking you up as though you weighed nothing. He spent no time taking you into his bedroom, the room looking a little worse for wear. This room looked the worst out of the others and as he walked towards his bed, you noticed a few of the panties you would leave at his place scattered across the floor. You could only imagine what he was using those for. He threw you onto the bed and you didn’t have a chance to register your train of thought before he towered over you.

“You…have no idea what you’re asking me to do to you.” His large hands pinned yours onto the mattress, his voice a low rumble as he spoke to you. The tone he had sounded feral, the low growl causing you to feel butterflies in your stomach. He leaned down, licking your neck and biting your shoulder to mark you. You yelped as you could feel small trickles of blood leak down your shoulder. The feeling of his teeth on you made you rub your thighs together in anticipation and you could already feel yourself throbbing with need. 

His focus went to your breasts, his tongue darting out to lick the valley between them before his mouth latched onto one of your nipples. His attention to your breasts had you squirming from his touch, moaning out his name just from how he sucked on your nipples. His tongue then went lower down your chest and past your stomach. He licked and left occasional love bites along the way, marking up your body more. He stopped when his muzzle brushed against your jeans, a low guttural sound came from his throat as he pressed his nose to your clothed cunt. He inhaled your scent, the smell intoxicating him causing him to pant. His hips rut against the bedsheets, desperate to feel some type of friction on his hardened cock. 

Your own arousal was obvious when he peered up at you with his wolfish eyes. The predatory gaze he had on you made a shudder crawl up your spine. He was holding back, waiting. He desperately needed your approval before he could continue and he was still weary about hurting you by mistake. You clicked your tongue, lifting your hips up in a feeble attempt to rub against his muzzle. 

“Please, Aiden,” You begged. “Just fuck me already.”

That was the last restraint you finally snapped off of him and he instantly tore off your jeans. You gasped, frowning at the sight of your favorite pair of jeans being torn to shreds but quickly forgot about them as soon as the werewolf kneeling in front of you began to ravage your cunt with his tongue. 

“You taste…so good...so sweet.” You could hear his muffled growls and groans as he ate you out. It was sloppy, and you were making a mess of him as you got closer to the edge. His claws dug into your plump thighs, pushing them together so your legs rested over his shoulders squeezing his head between them. His tongue flicked over your clit, the feeling making you cry out his name again. Your thighs clenched around him as you came, your back arching slightly off the bed as you shook from your orgasm. 

You tried to catch your breath as Aiden kept licking and slurping up your juices. When he finally pulled away from you, you could see in the dim lighting his cock was erect. You let out a quiet gasp when you saw how big he was, much bigger than the previous times you had sex with him. A dark chuckle came from Aiden as he climbed onto the bed to peer down at you. His arms were on either side of your body, his large form caging you against the mattress.

“Scared? I’m much bigger than before…” His cock rested against your stomach, and seeing just how far it would stretch into you caused your cunt to clench around nothing. You were desperate for him to breed you, to bury his cock into you and fuck you until you passed out. Aiden lifted you suddenly and flipped you over onto your stomach, pushing you into the mattress as he rubbed his cock against your slick entrance. He was panting heavily above you and you kept a firm grip on the bed sheets to brace yourself for when he entered you. 

“Gonna fill you up…” He growled, slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. You could feel your pussy stretching around his girth, already trying to adjust to his large size. Despite how desperate Aiden was to breed you, he still slowly sheathed his cock into you until he couldn’t fit himself inside you anymore. He waited just a moment, taking it as a silent approval when you switched your grip on the bed sheets to hold onto his wrist. He slowly pulled himself out of you before slamming back into you. 

You cried out at the sudden change in speed as Aiden lost any part of him that was hesitant. Now all that was left was this beast that had one animalistic desire to fuck you into the mattress. His pace quickened, growling at the site of his cock plunging into you. He didn’t stop the quick pace he was going at, his balls slapping against your clit every time he rutted against you. The tip of his dick briefly touched your cervix and you could help but try to rock your hips back into him just to replicate the same feeling again. 

You were a mess, tears streaming down your face as your lips opened to let out nothing but a slur of moans and Aiden’s name. Aiden roared above you, his claws tearing into the mattress as he clenched his hands into the bedding. The wet claps filled the room along with your pleas to be filled, the sound only urging Aiden to pound into you more. “So pretty for me…I’m not stopping…want to cum…fill you up….so bad.” 

You weren’t sure if that was Aiden speaking to you or the beast within him, either way his words only urged you to desperately beg for his cum. You were reaching another climax again, your pussy clenching tightly around Aiden’s cock as he thrust into you a few more times before coming to a halt. You could feel him enter deep inside you, his hot cum filling your needy pussy as he lifted his head to let out a wolfish howl. You could feel his knot pressing into you, plugging your hole so not a drop of his cum would leak out of you. He didn’t want any of it going to waste. He panted above you, and you felt lightheaded. You both tried to regain your breath, your sweaty body pressed into the mattress as Aiden kept you pinned down.  

It wasn’t long before Aiden’s knot calmed down enough for him to pull out of you as he flipped you over onto your back. You were spent, breathing heavily and still trying to come down from your high before Aiden’s erect cock entered your ravished hole again. He pinned your arms to the bed, leaning down and licking at the bite marks he had left on your breast. You let out a soft whimper, already anticipating the long breeding session he was about to put you through.

“We’re not done,” He growled your name, nuzzling his nose into your neck as he left another bite onto your collarbone. “I’m breeding you until your tummy swells with my pups.”

[More Monsters]

[ichimerapunk]

What if Joker Tried to Pull a Jigsaw?

Another idea for a piece of a story that has been bouncing around my brain for a bit...

Just your average “Danny joins the Batfamily but none of them know about secret identities” fanfic except the reveal happens with a lot of angst and it’s all because of the Joker.

What if Joker decides he’s going to implode the whatever relationship Batman has with Bruce Wayne by forcing either one of the Bats to kill off one of the Wayne kids or a Wayne kid to kill a Bat? He constructs a Jigsaw-level contraption and manages to capture one or two of the Bats and Danny. (How did Joker manage to capture Danny? Lucked out in that he used electricity to knock him out?) (Maybe the Joker wanted to try to capture more of either group or capture some other Wayne other than Danny, but he’s having to go with what he could get?)

So, he sets his victims in a contraption with a gun barrel pressed against each of them and a timer set to go off if no one pulls the trigger. The rest of the Batfamily aren’t going to get there in time. There are more explosives underneath their seats set to go off if anyone escapes their chair before someone is shot, so Danny can’t just phase his away out or let the bullet phase through him harmlessly.  

The trapped Bat(s) only have the capacity to shoot Danny while Danny could shoot either himself or a Bat (because the Joker knows a Bat would 100% take the self-sacrifice route, but assumed A Wayne wouldn’t [or some other contrivance]). After explaining the rules of the game, Joker runs off because he is expecting someone to die, and he knows how Batman gets when the Joker kills someone close to the man.) If there are two Bats, they could have a disagreement of who dies. Danny knows he can heal from a normally fatal gunshot wound even in human form (maybe because of past stuff with his parents or the GIW, maybe not). So much to the anguish of the Bat(s) present, he pulls the trigger.   

Danny wakes up with many of the Bats anguishing over his apparent death. Seeing Danny come alive again would be a confusing emotional rollercoaster for the Bats. (For even more angst, maybe Danny is freaking out because he believes the Bats will hand him over to the GIW because they uphold the law, right?)

[rithmeres]

i don’t think i’ve rewatched atla since becoming a committed pacifist and i just finished what was probably my tenth rewatch and i have never loved aang more. i've seen it so many times but i still came away with a new appreciation for the way the end of the story was handled. aang is the only survivor of a genocide and he is clinging to the last remnants of his culture and religion, and everyone is telling him the only way to save the world is to kill the dictator whose regime is responsible for the genocide, but to do so would abandon the deeply held beliefs of his people. if aang goes against his beliefs and kills ozai, his people's way of life dies completely and sozin wins.

aang knows it would be wrong but he can't see another way out so he prays for an answer, and the universe hears him and the spirits send out the lion turtle, and the creator answers him. and here's the thing that i never put together before today: aang would not have been able to energybend ozai if he had given in and wanted to kill him. the lion turtle tells aang that only the incorruptible can bend another’s energy, or else they will become corrupted themselves. and i think that aang, because of his love for the fire nation as he had once known it, was never corrupted by personal hatred for the fire lord or the fire nation. he was able to expertly hold two conflicting beliefs in harmony better than any adult could, the belief that ozai is a horrible person and the world would be better off without him and that he's still a human being with a life that is sacred.

and i don't think it's a matter of selfishness like some people make it out to be. aang is not some immature little kid who doesn't want to kill because killing is for bad guys. he's an incredibly wise and spiritual person who was shaped by airbender beliefs and upholds airbender beliefs, and he can see beyond the scope of this war. the balance of the world depends on the existence of the four nations, and aang does not just represent the air nomads, he IS the air nomads. he's all that's left.

despite many people’s interpretation of the four past avatars’ advice, none of the past avatars outright tell him to kill ozai. they tell him to be decisive, to bring justice, to be proactive, to be sacrificial. but none of them tells him definitively to kill him. he doesn't disobey or ignore their advice, he follows their ancient wisdom while still staying true to his beliefs. yangchen actually comes the closest to outright telling him to kill ozai (even more than kiyoshi, surprisingly) but what she fails to account for is that aang is not just the avatar, he is the last airbender, and being the last airbender is far greater a burden than being the avatar. no matter what happens, once he dies, there will always be another avatar. but if he is not careful to preserve the airbender way of life, there will be no more airbenders. yangchen could sacrifice her air nomad way of life for the sake of her duty to the world because there were thousands of other air nomads to continue their traditions. aang has no such privilege.

and it's not that he doesn't want to kill, it's that he actually doesn't think he can do it -- both that he won't be able to emotionally bring himself to kili someone, and, prodigy that he is, he doesn't have the raw bending skill to overcome a comet-powered master firebender. and then it turns from 'i don't think i can do it' into ‘i can’t do it.’ and when the avatar state gives him enough power to actually do it, he changes the answer to ‘i won’t do it.’ he overcomes all the combined power of his past lives to say no, i have found another answer and i will remain incorruptible. to kill is to maintain the power struggle of the fire nation and to reject air nomad wisdom and without airbenders the world CANNOT be brought into balance.

the only thing ozai cares about is power, and that's what the entire fight with ozai is about, physically and ideologically, because ozai only sees power in terms of force, fear, threats, and violence. to ozai, aang (and his entire people) are weak and undeserving of life because they are largely pacifists, but he fails to see the magnificent power that the airbenders do hold, spiritual wisdom and mastery of the self and contentment and joy and harmony and a deep understanding of the world that a man like ozai could never obtain. to kill ozai would ratify ozai’s worldview that power as he defines it is the most important pursuit in the world and the only way to assert one's right to be in the world is to be cruel and violent like him. i think to ozai, becoming powerless might be worse than being dead. he wants power, or he wants death, and aang gives him neither. it upends everything he believed in. aang, the avatar, but more importantly, the last airbender, armed by his past lives' power and his people's love and the spirit world's blessing and the lion turtle's omniscience (and toph's mastery of true sight through neutral jing), ends the war 100 years to the day after the air nomad genocide, in the way that his people taught him, with power that goes beyond force and violence, with spiritual wisdom, with an incorruptible soul, with mercy -- mercy that is not weakness, mercy that brings justice.

[headspace-hotel]

My mamaw has the book right now so I won't be able to read it for a little bit but my mom read The Worst Hard Time by Timothy Egan which is about the Dust Bowl and it puts in perspective all the environmental books I was reading from the 1940's and 1950's and the sense of agitation and intensity in them.

Everyone is like yeah yeah the dust bowl we've all heard of it, but the Dust Bowl was apocalyptic. The USA practically eliminated the bison—we are talking thousands of square miles of land littered with bones, enormous pyramids of skulls—and committed genocide against their caretakers, and then settlers ripped up the prairie grasses (which protected meters of top soil) with plows

And what happened was, half the country became in engulfed in horrific dirt storms that turned the sky black and reduced visibility to a few feet. Even indoor environments were full of deep drifts of dirt. When it rained, it rained mud instead of water. In ENGLAND the snow was RED because of DIRT. People died from pneumonia because they were breathing the dirt into their lungs.

Even before mom started reading this book, I was reading American books about the environment from the mid 20th century, and they are animated with the zeal and terror of people who have realized that human mismanagement could make the USA literally uninhabitable. I realized, "Oh. This is right after the Dust Bowl." cause of how they talk about erosion, and I realized just how formative the Dust Bowl was in terms of environmental policy.

Reading about various wildlife species, I realized also how utterly apocalyptic the conditions of the past were for animals. Deer were almost eliminated from my state. Deer.

Why do we have the Migratory Bird Treaty Act? Because just about every large bird species almost went extinct from uncontrolled commercial hunting. We almost had no swans, no cranes, no egrets, no storks. We lost the passenger pigeons and Carolina parakeets, but we could have lost Basically Everything.

So many of the ill-conceived decisions to introduce species to this continent are easily explained by how apocalyptic this period of time was. Why did we think it was a good idea to introduce Kudzu? Because in the 1950's, erosion sparked a visceral apprehension of CERTAIN DOOM, and logging had made the whole southeast start washing away! Why were so many exotic antelopes introduced to Texas? Because every native large animal was almost wiped out!

From my other readings on the subject (Changes in the Land by William Cronon is a good one) devastating environmental destruction started just about as soon as Europeans started controlling the land, and I am guessing that if you examined the timeline of environmental disaster alongside the migrations west, it would support the argument that settlers started pushing west more and more rapidly because of land degradation and environmental disaster.

I wish this was commoner knowledge, getting to where we are now has been a journey. Environmental history doesn't start in 1970's.

It is not the case that things have steadily gotten worse over time and recently are becoming extremely bad, rather, different parts of the environment have become both better and worse in steps forward and backward, and many seemingly unremarkable things around us were earned by a vicious fight, which we can learn from and continue...

[dcxdpdabbles]

So I've seen a couple of Demon twin prompts that have Danny and Damien knowing and keeping in touch with each other over the years with the Batfam none the wiser (The funniest being that Damien had Danny go and replace him for a week then the two played it off like it had been happening since Damien was brought to the manor. Another good one had Danny quickly dropping off Ellie with Damien leaving him to introduce Bruce to his granddaughter). How would this play out for you? Would Danny have run with Damien faking killing him, would he have just disappeared from the compound (?) One day?

Their mother had given birth to identical twins. Damien was born three whole minutes before Danny, which shouldn't have mattered much but to the Ra's it meant the world of difference.

Ra's did not want to raise more than one hire. He did not believe in spares or succession struggles. He gave Talia the ultimatum,- pick one twin to raise in their ways and give the other up to a civilian family or lose them both and her status.

Talia will never claim to be an angel. She knew that her heart was cold and wrenched as needed to cleanse the world. She was far too selfish to even consider becoming a civilian away from the league.

It wasn't a bad life, in the end, to become a regular civilian but it was not for her. Ra's had many children who were never deemed worthy of being part of his greater plans. He never mistreated them, but ultimately he ignored them and they grew up not knowing the blood that ran through their veins.

Talia herself knew of six siblings- all different ages and races- that she had seen from a distance. Her father would take her sometimes to see them, to be reminded that unlike them, she was destined for greatness.

They were nicknamed as the Lost by one of Father's past heirs. He had died fifty years before Talia's time but he was known for his surprisingly humorous outlook on life. How Ra could stand it, she will never know.

Sometimes Talia pitted her Lost siblings. They would be outlived by their father- as all of his children thus far have been- but they would never know the waste their lives had become. They would never know the glory of battle, the rush of leading an army, or the satisfaction of successful missions.

They lived in a rose-colored world inside a small fish bowl. Her Lost siblings would never know the vast wonder of the world.

Sometimes Talia envied her Lost siblings. Even though they had no real impact on the world, no real importance, they lived peaceful lives. They grew, made friends, and fell in love without fear of being betrayed. A foolish belief but one that seemed almost blissful.

How light would their shoulders be to not have to carry the weight that Talia has known all her life? Weight to be the best, to be the killer her father required, to allow her son to head to a possible death day after day.

None of them had to worry about their children never returning from a mission like she did. That's why she trained Damian so harshly, why she pushed and pushed until he reached perfection. If she didn't, then Damian would be bested in the field and his death would shatter what little humanity she still held.

She had taken Danny- her sweet youngest boy- to America to entrust him to her Beloved. It was only as she arrived on American soil did she realized that Bruce would not be satisfied with only one twin.

He would do everything in his power to get them both. Despite the years he trained with them, after learning their ways and their mission, Bruce did not approve of the League.

He was powerful enough to succeed in taking Damian as well if she gave him the chance.

Talia chooses to not do so. She instead stopped at the closest city that was miles and miles away from Bruce Wayne. She found Amity Park, a small sleepy town that would never gather much attention let alone Bruce's, and located a couple struggling for a second child.

After her men screened them and after making sure that they were harmless despite their eccentric research into ghosts, she gave the Fentons her Danny in adoption.

When she signed the adoption forms, Danny offically became a Lost sibling. She flew home, and held Damian just a tad bit tighter and longer, allowing only a few tears to fall before shutting away her heart.

She visited him through the years, but never within sight. Danny was unaware of her presence, as he stumbled his way with his life. He was unpopular with his peers, uncoordinated in basically everything, and the idea of him harming anything was laughable.

He had too much of his Father's heart but none of his will.

Talia made the right choose in getting him out. He would not have survived long within her lifestyle.

When her sons turned six, Talia had chosen to take Damian to see his Lost brother. She had two motives for doing so. The first was to show Damian what became of those deemed unworthy. To let him see that he had been given the honor of being the twin to inherit all that the Al Ghuls could offer.

The second was so that Damian could see his brother still lived, even as worthless and meaningless as he did so, he was still alive. He would know nothing of their world but he would still be able to walk through a different one.

She hoped but never voiced that he would find comfort in this and maybe even affection for her foolish Lost brother.

_________________________________________________________

What she was not aware of, was that Damian Al Ghul was just as selfish as she was. Once he saw what he deemed as his there was little in this world that would stop him from owning it.

He believed he was entitled to having a connection with his blood brother so underneath Talia's and the League of Assassins' noses, Damian did just that. He officially introduced himself to Danny when he was eight and told him the truth about their heritage.

Danny welcomed him with open arms. Despite being polar opposites in personality the identical twins were the best of friends. Damian always looked forward to seeing his brother for a short visit whenever the opportunity arose.

Danny was always pleased to host him for a weekend and the Fentons were more than happy to have him over. They may not have been able to adopt Damian but he was just as much their son as Danny was.

Damian just wishes he could return the gesture but if he ever had the Fentons over at Nanda Parbat they would all be dead within the first thirty minutes.

It was best to go to Danny.

Then Damian went to live with Father. It was a rough adjustment and he is not proud of his less-than-optimal reaction to Father's adoptive siblings seeing as the Fentons had proved blood is not required to love a child. It took months of getting used to living there before he was comfortable enough to go visit Danny again.

They spoke every night on the phone, however, since he no longer had to worry about traitorous warriors reporting his contact with a Lost sibling. He told Danny everything about the Waynes, just as Danny told him everything about being Phantom.

They just forgot to tell any of the Waynes about him.

Damian offered to have him over now that he knew Father would never harm his brother, and that the other Wayne children wouldn't kill him either. Danny, ever the most mischievous of the two, had a better idea.

"We could prank the family instead." Danny chirps floating above his bed, headphones in his ear as tries to play videogames upside down. He grins at the screen where Damian stares back at him.

Facetiming Danny can be a bit difficult when his brother has a hard time sitting still.

Damian wasn't strong enough to say no to him.

____________________________________________________________

"Master Bruce" Alfred didn't shout exactly but it was a near darn thing that had everyone in the cave tensing up. They all turned to an older man who was nervously gesturing to a screen. "We seem to have a guest"

They gather around the older man, watching as a teenage boy wearing baggy oversized sleepwear rampages through the kitchen in an ill-fated attempt to make...a sandwitch?

"How did he get in?" Bruce demands at once watching the boy pour himself a large cup of milk. His face was turned away so they couldn't see him clearly but-

"What are you all babbling about? That's not a guest." Damian scoffs after pushing his way to the front of the computers. He waves a hand at the stranger and it is conveniently at that exact moment that he turns around gulping down his milk.

It's an exact replica of his youngest. What in the world?

"Demon Brat" Jason starts slowly, hand reaching for his gun. Bruce would be angry by that, except he's not exactly sure that his son is standing with them now "Who is that?

"Obviously it's Daniel."

"Who?" Dick asks

Here Damian actually pauses looking around at everyone in as close to alarm as Bruce has ever seen him. "Daniel. My brother. Do you all not remember him?"

"Master Damian, this is the first time I have heard of your brother," Alfred stressed, the tone just a tad bit off from being upset. Damian's eyes widen behind his mask suddenly looking rather small.

He stares at the butler like he has never seen him properly nodding his head to the Batcomputer. "Check for yourself."

"I'll do it." Tim offers strolling over. With Babs on vacation with her father, he is the best with computers. He will know if something has been altered. A few clicks on the keyboard was the only sound within the cave as everyone stood around in unease.

A quick hiss between his teeth has Tim announcing. "Demon Brat isn't lying."

There on the multiple screens is proof that for the past four years- since Damian came to live with them- there was Danny. The brother with a medical condition that made being a Bat impossible.

Tim even had a personal folder- one he made but couldn't remember making based on his wonderous expression- titled "Angel Brat". Apparently, he and Danny got on like a house on fire. At least according to the files.

"Are you all quite sure you have no recollection of Daniel?" Damian questioned. His stance is protective, tense in a way Bruce has come to know as his son being nervous.

None of this makes sense. The last time Damian was this nervous was the last large Justice Leauge mission when all hands were on deck to fix the timeline-

Oh No.

"Damian, on the last rank 10 mission of the league you were the only one on the Watchtower when Flash shifted us back. Even Alfred was commanding a tank that day." He states waiting until his son nods in agreement. Around him, everyone was equally tense likely realizing the same thing.

"I was not alone Father. Daniel was with me. I couldn't possibly control all those stations alone."

Of course.

"Damian, I'm afraid the last mission erased Daniel from our timeline. I do not remember him."

His son's eyes practically bug out of his head. He swings around in small circles looking towards the rest of the family. His jaw clenched at their blank expressions.

None of them remembered Daniel either.

"We must inform Daniel at once-"

"No!" Dick shouts, cutting him off. There was a slump in his shoulders as he spoke much less sharply now. "If we do that, there is a chance that Time will try to force his existence out. It could.... erase Daniel completely."

"So what? We just pretend to know the kid? Lie to him?" Steph scoffs,

"Yeah as much as it sucks. I've worked with Bart long enough to know that there is a real danger in telling Daniel the truth." Tim sighs running his hands over his face.

"That's fucking great." Jason sneers, kicking a chair. Duke's hands are curled into tight fists, while Cass is looking at Damian with a sad frown.

Damian sneers at them, fleeing into the showers. Cass is one step behind him. Likely for the best, his eldest daughter has always been the best one to confine into. If anyone can get Damian talking about his feelings without being too pushy, it's her.

Alfred remains silent but his posture is stiff and straight. He is equally as displeased as his more explosive children. Not that Bruce couldn't blame him.

His heart has already shattered a dozen times over once Daniel's files have been brought up. He has forgotten his son. Has lost him in a way as close to death.

He flickers through them with the family. Everyone wants to remember as much as possible. There is so much. Daniel has a heart condition that has him attached to a heart pump, his consistently cold and is rarely strong enough to wander too far away from the manor.

In fact, he seems to collapse a lot like his legs just become intangible. Talia isn't aware he is still alive- Damian broke the rules to get him out of the league before his plan execution due to his condition.

Despite all of this, Danny had the biggest heart out of them. He seemed to be the kind of person with an easy smile, and happy pun waiting. He is so gentle that Tim's nickname "Angel Brat" is not just a mirror of Damian's

And Bruce forgot him.

To make matters worse the cave's elevator dings on, and down it comes Daniel himself. He looks exhausted, likely not used to being up so late but he smiles at them all warmly anyway

"Hey guys! Welcome home!" He greets. He rushes forward, hugging everyone with ease that not even Dick has been able to do. His movements are done so naturally that this must be how he greets them every night.

Everyone lets him and he doesn't seem surprised by the fact they return the hugs.

Bruce feels like vomiting as his youngest- Damian is older- smiles up at him. "Welcome home Dad! Love you."

"I..." His words catch in his throat. Daniel tilts his head confused but Bruce pushes through wrapping his arms around him just as tightly. "I love you too son."

"Tell the others you love them too" Daniel whispers in his ear. "Don't forget that they need to be shown through words and gestures too Dad!"

Bruce stiffens, unsure if he should but he doesn't have enough information to deny Daniel anything. If he suspects something is wrong he may zap himself out of existence. He can't let that happen.

He pulls back from Daniel after a moment, and then without giving the others warning, he reaches for the child closest to him. Jason yelps as he is dragged into Bruce's warm embrace. "I love you, Jason."

"Ugh what?" Jason sounds confused from above him- when did his little boy get so tall?- but he wraps his arms around him too, giving the beaming Daniel a quick glance before he mutters. "Love you too old man."

Bruce turns to Dick who is practically bouncing on his heels, arms held out. He steps into them easily, grunting as Dick squeezes him with all his might. "I love you, Dick"

"I love you too!"

Tim is staring with wide longing eyes over Dick's shoulder and Bruce knows he will have to hug him next. Behind him, Daniel has moved to embrace both Jason and Steph, which triggered a group-wide personal hug.

Even Alfred is there affording hugs and I love yous.

It's.....nice.

_____________________________________________________________

None of the Bats are good enough to read the body launage as Cass is. She saw the mischievous glee her new brother was hiding as he went around hugging everyone.

Damian taps her wrist. "Will you keep quiet of Daniel's harmless jest?"

She smiles. "Funny. They think they can't say no to him. "

"Oh, Dad! Now that you're back can I paint your nails?" Daniel asks loudly. "I have the best black nail polish!"

"....I suppose that is fine."

Damian cracks a smile. "My brother is a menace."

[nocreativityfornames]

Everything we know about Barbatos so far, lore wise.

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS

➤ He lives in the Demon Lord's Castle with Diavolo and works as his loyal butler. (swd: 2-13)

➤ He's one of the demons who share a pact with Solomon. (swd: 2-A)

➤ According to Mammon, he has a secret torture room beneath the castle from where you can hear the screaming of his victims at night. The other brothers and Diavolo were in the room when he told this to MC but none of them batted an eye or tried to deny it. (swd: 6-19)

➤ Before, citizens of the Devildom were allowed to easily travel to the Human World whenever they wished through passages placed in certain locations in the kingdom, but now those passages are blocked and the only way demons can use them is by getting permission from the few other demons who are still allowed to use them freely first. Barbatos is one of said demons. (swd: 11-4)

➤ He has the ability to time travel thanks to his powers that allow him to create a portal to any place, time and reality he wants. (swd: 15-17 and 53-11)

➤ He was the one to take MC back to the past when they made a deal with Diavolo to figure out who had opened the attic door and released Past!Belphegor in exchange for Present!Belphegor's freedom from being imprisoned for conspiring against the exchange program. (swd: 15-17)

➤ He looked into MC's bloodline under Diavolo's request once the prince realized there was something special about them, and it was then that he found out that they were Lilith's distant descendant. (swd: 16-15)

➤ In response to MC asking him if he knew everything that would happen with Belphegor getting out of the attic before it occurred Barbatos said that no, he didn't know, and even further said: "Imagine for a moment what it would be like to know everything that will happen from now until the end of time. Why nothing could possibly be more boring, wouldn't you agree?" (swd: 15-17)

➤ His main way to use his powers to "space travel" is through the many doors in his room in the Demon Lord's Castle. (swd: 15-17)

➤ He was never a child. (swd chat: The Royals, “That's What I Mean”)

➤ He met Solomon a long time ago when the sorcerer risked death to summon him (swd: 53-16), desperately needing his powers to control time for reasons that are still unknown. (swd: 49-A)

➤ He gave Solomon his grimoire out of trust and respect for him. (swd: 53-16)

➤ It's a big rumor around the kingdom that he's powerful enough to rival even the Demon King himself. (swd: 54-1)

➤ He met Diavolo when the prince was still a child and Diavolo got Barbatos to work for him by luring him into the castle with the promise of very rare tea and then telling him that he wouldn't let him leave unless he agreed to be his butler, getting to the point of even threatening to not assume his position of king in the future if the older demon refused to. And telling this story to Thirteen, Barbatos confessed to having found the whole thing very cute. (swd: 58-A and nb: 15-A)

➤ When it hit the news that he had sworn allegiance to Diavolo the whole kingdom was in shock and it was THE THING everyone was talking about. (swd: 54-1 and nb: 15-1)

➤ He has been around for a long time and shows up in historical records under multiple different names. Rumor has it he was alive even before the Devildom took shape. (nb: 15-1)

➤ When asked about Diavolo in a conversation with MC, he told them that the prince is the very reason for his current existence. (swd: 54-5)

➤ Narrated by Solomon in the Nightbringer Prologue Movie we hear the story of a certain demon, it goes: “Once upon a time, there was a demon who could see both past and future. With a flurry of trumpets from his king, the demon appeared. Finding a lost human the demon whispered: 'I can take you to where you'll be happy.' Through their tears, the human spoke: 'Thank you, o kind one. If you save me from this dark path, I will pray to you every night. Please, tell me what they call you!'" But before any reply can be said Barbatos is shown making a shushing sound, which was largely perceived as him not wanting the viewers to know that he was the demon from the story. Later, the human was revealed to be Adam, a man who came to the Devildom looking for his lover and met a demon named Nightbringer, who he immediately went to begging for help. (nb: 8-16)

➤ He was the one to give Solomon the title of “the Witty Sorcerer” when he brought him to the Fountain of Knowledge for the first time while Solomon was on the verge of death. Barbatos attended the sorcerer's wounds there and declared him the new protector of the spring. (nb: 11-10)

➤ He's to blame for how much Solomon has changed, according to Thirteen. The reaper told MC that Solomon used to be very loveably innocent when he was younger, but that Barbatos let him experience whatever he wanted and now nothing scares or fazes him anymore. (nb: 11-10)

➤ The reason he had been so irritable towards Solomon in the past was because when visiting the sorcerers' home he found a list of demons he wanted to make pacts with and noticed his name was placed 8th. (nb: 25-1)

➤ Before meeting Diavolo he used to use his powers freely to travel through time and space whenever he wanted without a care for how his actions could affect others, and they ended up terribly affecting Diavolo and Solomon, and Barbatos sees his devout servitude to the prince as a way to atone for those past actions, but Diavolo doesn't know that. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")

➤ Although he accepted to work for the prince for the sake of atonement, he ended up enjoying his time with him and found that he felt a sense of belonging working for him. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")

[intersectionalpraxis]

"A reporter asked a Palestinian child "What do you want to be when you grow up?" The child said, "We're Palestinian, we don't get to grow up." Majority of the Palestinians murdered are children under the age of ten. What crime have they committed?"

Children in Gaza represent roughly HALF of the population -that's a million human beings under the age of 18. Recent figures have also stated that one Palestinian child is killed every 15 minutes. And over the past 4 months alone -10,000 of them have been genocided and many more are still under the rubble. Many Palestinian children have also been targets of the IOF for decades -from their disproportionate targeting of women and children to the rampant imprisonment of Palestinian youths and kids in Gaza and the West Bank.

I have spoken about this on my page many times before -the IOF continues to terrorize Palestinian people and systematically robs the childhoods of Palestinian children in so many ways, and I don't know how anyone can look at what is happening and remain silent. Learning about how over a 1000 children have also had one or both their legs amputated since the start of October 7th, 2023, and over 25,000 have been orphaned -this should continue to enrage you, but I still see people think that Israel has a 'right to defend itself,' and that in itself is both a depraved and despicable statement to make.

May the IOF rot.

Palestine will be free.

[shradsmanifestt]

You've been affirming and persisting a lot. But you can't help but wonder why it isn't here yet?

I guess this is something a lot of people including me have faced. Believe me I know how it feels. But lemme ask you something. You affirm saying it's already done and then you go behind your own bavk and ask where it is? How does that make any sense?

There's only one solution to this. If it's already done why go search for it? It's done and that's it.

I know we as humans wanna be validated with proper proof that it's done. But c'mon. This is the law of assumption. There's nothing logical about this. You know it, I know it. Every time you affirm just remind yourself that this is your validation. The very fact that you're able to affirm it, makes it true. The fact that you can imagine it, script it , feel it real are all proof that it's done and that's the validation that you need trust me. Just trust me on this.

Manifestation isn't logical. So stop trying to make it logical. You'd fail. Quit trying to make sense of what's happening. It doesn't matter. You don't need to understand how electricity works to use it right? All you need to know when it comes to a lamp is that you switch it on when you need the light and off it when you don't. Likewise you change your thoughts and know what you desire it's already done and that's it. Persist in that and that's all you need to do.

If it was out of reach/ impossible to manifest you wouldn't be able to desire it. It wouldn't be crossing your mind. The very fact that you can want it is all the proof you need. That's it.

Stop being lazy. If you want it you want it otherwise respectfully - fuck off. You can't go whining how it isn't here yet when you're the one who isn't letting it come to you. If you plan to just live your life like others live then why try? Just live your life the way you lived before knowing the law of assumption.

You're only adding more whining and worry on top of your situation. At least before knowing you didn't worry abt how it's gonna manifest.

If you want it badly enough you'd just stfu and persist. You'd stop being a pain in the ass to yourself and put in the discipline. I'm proof that the law works. If you can imagine the number of things that I've manifested over a span of many years you'd know. I'd start posting my stories if you'd like too.

I've known about the law of attraction since I was 13 and my mom gifted me the book - the secret. I always knew there was SOMETHING. By 2020 i learned about the law of assumption and the past 4 years have been pure bliss. Sure I've had my hard times. But in the end it's worth it. It was all worth it. Don't give up. Put in the work. It has no other choice but to manifest.

[periprose]

Hi! :)

I’m craving some Logan Howlett angsty fluff and I really like your writing style… Do you think you could maybe do a fic where either Logan and reader are in the heat of the moment and his claws come out and he scratches her. Or where Logan has a nightmare and the same thing happens. Either way the reader ends up comforting him.

Thank you! 🩷 :)

Hi!! So sorry for getting to this so late 🥹 loved the idea btw :) ended up doing a bit of a mix of both? If that makes sense.

/

"Out with it."

Your voice rings out clearly among the X-Men, the throng of battle no longer around you all. It was a more exhausting battle than you would've thought, but nothing irks you more than knowing that Logan has been apparently thinking of you as someone to play babysitter to. He hadn't trusted you to make your final blow to the enemy, and instead scooped you away to safety before lashing out with his own claws.

Logan clearly has something to say to you, and you want to hear it. You're not going to let him escape again- the way he always does, nonchalantly, refusing to acknowledge how he treats you.

Charles stiffens next to you in the helicarrier. Watching the tension, feeling the palpable heart-wrenching sensation between you and Logan. He doesn't know how you got to this point.

"Listen. Just because you didn't have it doesn't mean you're not a good X-Man-" Logan starts dismissively.

"But I did! I did have it!" You shout back at him, and then inhale carefully. "Nobody told you to rescue me, Logan. If I was about to die, then I was. I wanted that to be on my own terms."

"Don't talk like you're a fucking martyr when you've never had the privilege, kid." Logan's unnecessarily harsh tone has you flinching. "Do you know how many people I've seen die, for no good reason? Do you really want a bunch of Pentagon psychos to be your last memory?"

"Shut up." You shift in your seat, feeling small. "We don't get to choose when we die. Not like you."

Logan becomes visibly angered with that, the little taunt you've made towards his immortality. "That doesn't mean you have to go seek it out, dumbass."

"Oh really? Don't tell me you're getting soft, Logan." You glare at him, and Charles and Jean and Scott look at each other uncertainly. "Just because your life is so long doesn't mean the rest of us have forgotten what it means to be alive."

There's an unspoken, sudden charge in the air, now that you've mentioned what everyone else has the good sense to shut up about- Logan having lived so long and not caring about the consequences of his actions. Logan's eyes narrow until you feel sure that you've pushed him too far this time- he looks more animal than human, more Wolverine than ever- and you feel yourself inching forward, letting the anger of not being understood push you to fighting him- and Charles suddenly raises his hand in protest.

"Please, you two. I'm not sure what has transpired today, but I know you are better than choosing to have a physical altercation on a helicarrier flight." His calm, soothing tone makes you feel a little disappointed in yourself, and you settle back in your seat, refusing to meet his or Jean's glances of concern.

/

All you really wanted was an apology. A "Sorry, I won't do that again." Or even an explanation for why Logan keeps tabs on you all the time, never letting you be a real part of the X-Men, always safely on the sidelines. Were you just too weak?

Should you even be here?

You feel guilty for what you said to him. It's not a bad thing, you know, that Logan doesn't want you to get hurt- it's just that you want to do your job. You're not a kid.

It almost, almost justifies how you treated him, but even you know that was too far. You can't act as if you know Logan's life story- not even Charles or Jean would claim to do that, and they've searched his mind for memories several times.

Like it or not, the man was mysterious. He kept to himself on a lot of things, citing past hurt as his reason why- and you should've respected that.

"Maybe I am weak." You mutter to yourself, wondering why you can't restrain your emotions around Logan.

You're practicing shooting small, psionic blasts towards the target in your room- it's a great way to pass the time when you can't sleep- when you hear a groan, a shudder, an angry, deep growl-

It sounds like Logan. His room is right above yours, and the sounds are definitely coming from there- you hear him yell, and before you can stop yourself, you're bounding up the stairs to the third floor of the X-Mansion, bursting through his room's door with a ready hand, in case you need to fight.

/

Logan watches as you berate him in his dream.

Actually, it's not quite you- it's some venomous, evil, witch wearing your face. You giggle at him- you call him old- you don't take him seriously.

With every taunt, you fire another bright purple blast at him- and for once, his body doesn't heal instantaneously. He is getting old, getting hurt, watching as blood pools out of him. It's agonizingly painful.

He's going to die this time, without making it right with you- he's afraid that you're right about him, that he's a washed up sad old man who can't ever let people in.

"We don't need you anymore, Logan..." The not-you whispers softly, smiling a smile that doesn't quite reach your eyes, and Logan can't help but believe it.

His self preservation instincts kick in, and he launches forward, snarling, claws out with a sharp snikt sound. He feels that even though he'll regret your death, he'll miss you immensely, it's just one more tally mark to several others.

/

"Logan. Logan!"

You're leaning over Logan's sweaty, clammy body in his bed. You watch as his hands fist in the sheets, and he tosses and turns in agony- you breathe in hesitation, in fear that he's not going to be okay- he grunts suddenly, and you're reminded of how Rogue tells you about his nightmares. They're frequent.

How out of touch could you have been today?

You gently-yet-firmly grab Logan's arm, shaking, and his arms move forward in a self-defense mechanism that seems practiced, as if he's been attacked in his sleep before, and before you can move away, there's a sharp snikt sound, a quick wave of claws, and a searing pain in your side.

It all happens before you can even blink. You fall off to the side, on the floor, writhing in pain. Logan's claws just nicked your side, it's essentially a scratch- but the pain is so much worse than you're expecting, and you fall to the floor again as you try to get up.

You breathe in harshly, holding back a sob, as you feel wet blood pooling through the side of your night dress.

"Jesus Christ." Logan pounces off the bed, waking to blood all over his claws, and he's leaning over your body, as you blink up at him hesitantly. He immediately panics, lifting you up and resting you on his squatted thighs. "Kid! Hey, kid, don't close your eyes-"

"..." You're just barely hanging on, but you listen.

And Logan feels that same sense of shame he felt when he attacked Rogue, when Jean "died", every single time he had accidentally unsheathed his claws towards someone who didn't deserve it.

Doubly so, considering it's like his terrible nightmare has come to life. But you absolutely didn't do anything wrong- he can't believe he was so angry with you.

He calls for help, in a slightly broken tone, and no one seems to be coming.

"Just a scratch." You try, but Logan shakes his head.

"No, no, no." Logan spits out. "How could I- I never meant to-"

"I'm sorry, Logan." You cough, and Logan feels awful that you're apologizing while bleeding out due to his actions. "I shouldn't have said what I said. You're not some unreliable old man who doesn't care..."

You flinch at a sudden, sharp pain, and Logan motions for you to stop talking, but you keep going.

"If anything, you're the opposite. You're there for me. And I'm sorry that I got so... so angry at you for that." You mutter to yourself, not aware of how Logan hangs onto your words. "You're protecting me from making mistakes, and I'm grateful."

"No, kid. You had a point before." Logan interjects, but you shake your head.

"Did I? Or was I being a brat?" You grimace at yourself.

"You did have a point. I was being selfish," Logan shakes his head and then swallows that urge to push you away. "I don't always know how to leave people well enough alone. Sometimes I'm too much."

He hesitates, and then continues on. "Like, I treat you as if you're a nuisance, right? But I always... I always want you next to me. And I know I should just sort my shit out like an adult. But I'm scared."

"Scared?"

"Of what happens. What always happens." Logan sighs in defeat. "I fall in love, and they die. I find my people, and they leave me because I'm such a jackass. There's too much surrounding me that just... ruins everything."

"No, no. I won't leave." You tighten your hand around Logan's, and he, despite wanting to say that you're wounded because of him, believes you. He's so grateful to hear you say it- he had no idea that's what was weighing on him so badly.

He loves you, he knows he does. Logan has never been the best with feelings, but for once, he's glad he was honest.

The first thing Scott sees when he finally makes his way to Logan's room, from all the way across the X-Mansion, is Logan whispering "I'm sorry," and... he thinks (he's not 100% sure), "I love you," to your very forlorn, softly curved-around-him body.

It's a very tender moment, and Scott feels he should leave.

Then Logan presses a firm, shaky kiss on your forehead, and then your lips, and you, with your limited reserve of energy, kiss him back, and then Scott interjects with:

"Hey!...?"

He seems taken aback as you both look at him. "I heard screaming? What is this, some sort of weird cult sacrificial scenario?"

"Logan... had a... nightmare..." You wince, and Scott sees the red on your night gown. "I need... medical attention."

"On it." Scott glances at Logan for permission, and he's currently trying to push all these mushy feelings back into his chest where they belong, and he wants to be there to help you in the clinic, but he's flustered with everything that's happened and he can only hand you to Scott without looking at him.

Scott smirks to himself as he runs you to the clinic of the X-Mansion.

"You and Logan, huh? I knew there was something in that fight today." Scott remarks as you cling to him.

"It's taken an embarrassingly long time for me to figure it out, but yeah." You blush. "Has everyone else...?"

"Jean's been running a bet for the last year." Scott laughs. "She says you both are two sides of the same coin."

You can't help but agree.