#jazz knows this and wants to use her anger to do something good

[roses-and-revolutions]

Jazz, for some reason or the other, becomes a wielder of a red lantern ring. After going on her rampage and getting her revenge, she realizes that the feeling of rage won't go away. Instead of letting the anger destroy her, she decided to do something else with it.

That's how we end up with a stand-off between Hal Jordan and the most powerful Red Lantern he's ever seen. Because...

"What... what did you just say?"

The young woman smiled gently at him. He would've been fooled by it if not for the burning rage carefully hidden... No, she wasn't hiding anything behind those turquoise eyes. It was taking everything she had to hold it back.

"I said that I would like to join The Justice League." Her voice was soft and velvety. Comforting in a way that sends chills up his spine.

"But you're a Red Lantern."

There was a beat of silence, she cocked her head to the side while looking at the blood-red ring on her finger.

"I don't know what that means, but I'm guessing it's got something to do with this ring?"

Hal didn't respond but she took it as confirmation. There was silence between them once more before Jasmine sighed and continued.

"I feel angry, more than angry. This rage that I've been holding inside for so long has reached its limits and is finally bubbling over. Everything that I loved is gone so killed what took it away from me. But... but I'm still SO FUCKING ANGRY!"

She was screaming now. Tears of rage and sadness rolled down her cheeks as violent red energy radiated from her being. Hal flew back. He didn't want to fight her but was ready to do so if it came to it.

Just as easily as she lost it she pulled herself together, wiping her tears away, returning to her previously calm demeanor. It freaked Hal out.

"I... I know that blind rage without direction leads to meaningless destruction. I don't want to hurt anybody. No... I don't want to hurt the wrong people. I'm asking you to guide me, to guide my rage in the right direction... Please."

[demonic0angel]

okay now i really want to read the mafia boss/rival company anger management fic that we keep talking about XD (from the gods creator AU)

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN I HAVE TO MARRY HER?!" Jason shrieked.

Dick and Tim winced from the noise level but Bruce didn't even flinch.

"You are going to marry Jasmine Fenton," Bruce repeated as if he hadn't even started screaming at all. "Truthfully, it was supposed to be Dick, but since you took over the company, you're going to marry her."

Jason practically snarled, glaring at Dick with vicious eyes.

Dick coughed. "Little Wing, what's the big deal? I know you two have a rivalry, but didn't you admire her? I thought you liked her!"

Jason spluttered before he said, "Like her?! I don't— I don't like her! She's prissy and naggy and talks too much and all she does is use her pretty face to get whatever she wants! Like hell I'm going to marry her!"

His face turned hot as he continued, "And it's not like I like her! I don't! A-And I'm pretty sure we won't be a good match anyways!"

Tim, Dick, and Bruce shared a look before Tim said, "We should call the Fentons to discuss wedding plans and asset sharing."

"Agreed. I'm thinking we should get a 20% amount of shares in the company—"

"Are you listening to me?!"

————

"..... so I have to marry him?"

Danny and Dan glowered, while Dani nodded and shrugged at the same time. "It appears so. Apparently, mom and dad arranged it before they died but we only just saw it."

Jazz frowned.

Dani asked, "What is it? You don't like him or something?"

Immediately, Dan stood up and said, "I'll take care of it."

Jazz grabbed him before he could run off and start hiring hitmen to kill Jason Todd-Wayne. "No, no, that's not it. Let's not be hasty here."

"Then what is it? If you don't like the marriage, I'm sure we could do something about it," Danny said.

Dani muttered, "Though we could get really, really rich really, really fast if we married into the Waynes. Not that it matters much if you don't like him."

Jazz sighed before she said, "It's just so unromantic! Where's the dates? The love? The romance? He's cute, but I don't think he likes me very much anyways."

"Then we should kill him," Dan said with a nod to Danny.

"No killing," Dani and Jazz said, which made both Dan and Danny wilt.

Dani then said, "How about a trial period? You've been alone and single for too long, sis. This could be fun!"

Jazz sighed and smiled. "Well... I wouldn't mind much."

"Woohoo! Okay, I'll send them a message right away!"

"I knew I should've killed him the moment he took over the company," Dan bemoaned.

[snaileer]

Call to My Bedside

When Danny wakes up with shackles around his wrists and chains pinning him to the wall, he’s not all that surprised to see his mother in front of him.

And no, he doesn’t mean Madeline Fenton, although he wonders if he’d be surprised by that either and really, what does that say about his life?

But no, he’s not all that surprised to be staring into the eyes of Talia Al Ghul right now.

Even if his heart stops at the sight of her.

Immediately, he tries to stand, shoulders pulled painfully behind him as he tries not to let her loom over him.

This is a woman he barely remembers, through no effort of her own, but that’s what happens when you left a kid to be trained by strangers before he’s whisked off to America against his will at age 5.

Really she was lucky he remembered her at all.

She crouches down slightly to make up for their height difference, face softening too quickly to be real, “I am Talia Al Ghul. Though you may not remember, you are my child-“

“I remember.” Danny cuts her off, trying to keep the anger from making his eyes glow. He does remember, he remembers enough to know that it would be dangerous for them to know he has powers.

He settles for glaring at her.

For a second it seems she just watches him, but the kindness drops from her face as she straightens.

The slap catches him hard enough to jerk his head to the side, chains rattling behind him as he unsuccessfully tries to catch himself.

Instead, they go taut behind him, leaving him to jerk sideways, breath rough by the surprise of the hit.

“Do not interrupt me, child.” Her voice rings cold in the air.

Danny doesn’t bother to lift his head, instead keeping his eyes pinned to the grimy floor. Had he forgotten how unforgiving this place was? What it was like?

“Look at me.”

Danny kept his eyes downwards. He didn’t want to look at her. He wanted to go home.

“Look at me, or suffer the punishment,” She said, voice steely.

He slowly lifted his head, eyes meeting hers.

“Good. You know who you are then, child? What place you are meant to hold in this world?”

Danny doesn’t answer, only glaring.

She barely blinks but her eyes sharpen in warning.

Danny grits his teeth, “I’m Danny al -Al Ghul, heir to the Demon’s head of the League of Assassins-“

The second hit is just as hard, but Danny is better braced for it.

“Your name is Danyal Al-Ghul, you are my blood and the blood of Batman, your heritage dictates a higher quality of discipline than this and you will show it.”

Everything in Danny’s being rebels against the name. He hasn’t been Danyal in years. And he refuses to go back to it.

He straightens his back, ignoring the ache of his shoulders as he snarls at her, “My name is Danny, Danny Fenton. I haven’t been your precious heir in years, and you can’t make me now.”

They couldn’t and he wouldn’t let them, not when he had the power to-

Talia idly pulls something from behind her and he feels the blood drain from his face.

It’s a picture of him, Tucker, and Sam, next to it is a larger grid of images, each making his heart drop further in his chest.

Sam. Tucker.

Jazz. Mom. Dad.

All of them in cells. Chained.

Hurt.

His family, his family-

“Did you think we would not know of your gifts? Would not know how you would think to leave us? You clearly do not remember as much as you think you do.”

Danny can barely hear her over the static rushing in his ears.

She grabs his face roughly, “We are the League, child, and you are one of us. You may have thought you were like them, but we are better. Meant for better, and you will not be allowed to squander the gifts bestowed on our bloodline through you. Until you can make the right choice yourself, as your blood, we will make them for you.”

Danny looks into her eyes, the certainty behind her words, and he feels a gaping emptiness open inside him. The kind that knows it’s not going away.

He wants to go home. He wants to see his family, and his friends. He doesn’t care that his parents don’t know his secret, that he’s just barely getting a handle on it himself, he just doesn’t want to be here. Not again. Please, not again.

Talia releases him, and he lets his body droop, sinking into himself as he crouches over the ground, the restriction of his arms keeping him from even fully curling around himself.

“Remove the chains, he will not be going anywhere,” Talia says, her shadow falling over him in the dim light of the doorway.

Danny barely moves as the cold metal falls away from his wrists.

And he knows she’s right.

He won’t be going anywhere. Not as long as his family is in danger.

—

The first months were hard. Harder than Danny remembers. Maybe his five-year old self had just had it easy.

He doesn’t now.

“Again!” His instructor shouts, bamboo staff coming down on the back of Danny’s knees.

He doesn’t let himself stumble. Not anymore.

At least his Arabic is getting better, he can understand it completely, as if he’d never forgotten it -as if it’d been his mother tongue- and he can speak it smoothly again, though shallow. You can’t even hear his American accent anymore.

Danny hasn’t spoken English since that first week, when they’d beaten it into him every time he’d tried.

When they’d beaten him for not understanding fast enough. Not reacting fast enough, not responding fast enough, to a language he didn’t know, hadn’t known for years now.

They’re right about one thing.

Pain is an excellent teacher.

“Again!”

He moves fast enough to dodge the bamboo stick this time, body shooting forward against his opponent.

Dodge, lunge, feint, block, swipe, block, block, block-shit-block, reach-

His back slams against the stone floor of the courtyard, knocking the breath out of him.

The instructor doesn’t step in. He won’t.

Not even when his opponent’s hands clamp around his throat.

Danny struggles, trying to use his inhuman strength to pull the arms away, but that inhumanity has waned since he’s been here, drained like the rest of his energy.

He feels the weight begin to build in his skull, he can’t breathe, he doesn’t have much longer, what can he- Danny forcefully moves his arms away, fighting instinct, instead pulling his legs up and rolling, just as they’d drilled into him, the change in leverage giving him the break he needed to be free as he stands-

The bamboo slams into his back, knocking him forward, “Again!”

Danny rolls with the momentum, ignoring the new throbbing in favor of dodging his opponent’s grappling fists.

Dodge, lunge, dodge, swipe, dodge, dodge, hit, swipe, block, forward, dodge, block-

Danny breathes through the sweat dripping down his skin, the way his ribs creak with every breath, the way his muscles feel numb and disconnected. None of it matters.

He just has to win.

He doesn’t have any other options.

He never did.

Not really.

This is why they brought him here.

Why he was born.

He has to win.

Danyal twists the arm of his opponent back until there’s a sickening crack.

“Again!”

A new opponent flies towards him with fists already raised.

He doesn’t have any other option.

He never did.

——

The next time he sees Talia is just before the ceremony to his next stage. She is waiting in his room when he walks in.

“Mistress,” He greets, bowing his head, feeling phantom pain bloom on his cheeks. It’s the only thing that makes him call her that.

“Danyal, your training is going well,” She says, voice idle in that meandering sort of way. This isn’t why she’s here.

“I will improve,” He says anyways. Because he knows he’s not meeting their standards yet, knows they’re disappointed by the heaviness in his bones that weighs him down and drains his energy.

She stands, making Danny go stock still as she approaches, featherlight touch on his chin as she tilts it upwards.

English drifts from her lips, “You have his eyes, his cheekbones…” her eyes drift down again, and it still doesn’t feel like she’s even really looking at him, “My chin and my jaw…not like Damia-“

Her hand drops.

Danny can’t figure out the change but he can feel it. Hesitantly, he asks, in Arabic still, “Talia, why… are you here?”

The steel returns.

“The bat is dead. You are the last of his power,” She says, then pauses. She seems torn about saying more.

She doesn’t, exiting silently as Danny stares into the air, unmoving.

His… birth father… was dead?

A man that was a great enough warrior to impress the Demon’s Head. Impress Talia.

A man… he didn’t even know the real name of.

It’s not like the Bat was anything more than a name to him.

A name he had to live up to.

Danny sighs and turns to his drawers. He has a training ceremony to prepare for.

——

Danny doesn’t resist the arms that hold him back as they swipe a broad slash across the skin of his back with the whip, simply letting himself curl inwards around the pain before he’s dropped unceremoniously to the ground.

He pulls himself back up just soon enough to see the next person dragged in and thrown in front of him.

The handle of the blade is pressed into his hand.

It wouldn’t be hard.

It should be hard. Right?

Killing a man whose crimes he doesn’t even know should be hard. It’s meant to be hard, right?

Danyal wishes he doesn’t know how easy it will be to fall into it.

But he can’t keep doing this. Collecting scars because he’s clinging to morals that aren’t even his.

He can’t keep doing this. He can’t keep doing any of this.

He has to.

Danyal slices the edge of the blade across the man’s neck.

The cut is clean. Deep.

He’s dead in less than a minute.

Danyal’s own blood continues to flow.

——

Danyal doesn’t know what’s happening. One minute he’s training, trying to push past the exhaustion lining his bones, and the next the entire west side of the courtyard is in flames, crumbling down the side of the mountain.

Danny runs through the rubble of the passageways, searching for the source, searching for reasons, searching for… he doesn’t know, but he knows he can’t be caught doing nothing.

He doesn’t find anything except ruins.

Danny is called to meet Ra’s Al Ghul two weeks later. His grandfather. The Demon’s head.

The man doesn’t even look at him.

Danny stays kneeling all the same, better safe than beaten again.

“Are you familiar with Red Robin?”

Danny inclines his head, just barely, “I… can’t say I am…Great One.”

The following hum is derisive.

“He is one of the Bat’s… followers. Recently, he has proven himself to me. His ruthlessness is impressive, his ability to pursue his goals: admirable. He would make the perfect heir,” Ra’s says and he must know it makes Danny’s heart drop, why else would he say it, “Do you know what Timothy lacks, Danyal?”

Danyal stays quiet, eyes tracking the grit of the floor.

After a pause, near silent footsteps enter his vision, “You are the culmination of his mentor’s blood and my own, blessed with the gifts of the Lazarus pits, and yet-“ the cape swirls as Ra’s turns away, “Yet it is squandered by the mistakes of your upbringing!” He yells.

Danyal clenches his fists, willing himself silent.

The air of the room falls level again, “I grow tired of your mediocrity, Danyal. You will advance, or I will stop wasting my resources keeping your baggage alive.”

Danny’s head whips up before he can think better of it, meeting Ra’s Al Ghul’s eyes where they stare down at him.

“Do not mistake my past grace for mercy, Danyal. Mercy makes men weak. There is no room for weakness, and we are here to purge it from this world. Do not forget that.”

“Of course, Great One.” Danyal’s heart pounds in his ears, fear jumping across each beat sporadically, “I will do better.” He tries to fill his voice with confidence.

He’ll do better.

He has to.

Ra’s looks at him, then turns his back and waves a hand dismissively, finally allowing Danyal to stand and leave.

He feels Ra’s’ eyes on his back the entire time as he leaves. And no matter how much he wants to, he doesn’t stop in the hallway. Even once the door is closed, he continues forward.

In his mind, Danny stops and heaves a breath through the grief crashing over him.

In his mind, Danny is a million miles away, at home, with his family around him, happy and safe.

In his mind, Danny rushes back into Ra’s al Ghul’s grandiose throne room and attacks him with the sword he’s forced on him, not stopping until he’s free or dead.

In reality, Danyal breathes out with false calm and moves on.

He has training to get to.

——

Danyal can feel the pressure of the Leagues- of Ra’s’- expectations pushing down on him.

It’s not new.

But he doesn’t let it weigh him down anymore. He doesn’t have that luxury.

Instead, he uses it to push himself harder, farther, pushing until he reaches those expectations.

And surpasses them.

And keeps going.

He won’t-can’t stop. So he keeps going.

Moving up, learning, training, getting better, faster, getting stronger.

Getting weaker.

Danyal ignores the strained whisper of his core in his chest in favor of aiming at the target in his scope.

An Ethiopian politician, making a name for himself by drafting new acts supporting the build of a dam on the Nile River.

It would endanger the lives of thousands in Egypt, cutting them off from the water that has flowed through their country for millennia.

It would never make it through the legislative ruling without him.

This is their duty. To cull the disease. To burn away the parasites killing the world. The ones feeding off excess.

Danyal pulls the trigger and starts packing the gun away.

His hands move with robotic precision, even without his guidance. No, his eyes and his focus are elsewhere.

Instead, Danny stares at the newspaper laying damp on rooftop gravel, eyes scanning every detail, every line.

May 7th of 20XX. Over a year.

Alien invasion recently. Superman.

New hero in Russia.

Multiple car crashes in Pakistan. All survived.

None of it really matters to him, not really, it doesn’t tell him anything interesting, nothing he needs to know. It’s not even an American newspaper.

But…It’s the closest he’s come to freedom in so long. In almost two years.

Is it bad that what he calls a taste of freedom is knowing how long it’s been since he’s been free?

The rifle case clicks shut beneath his fingertips and he stands without so much as a lingering glance at the newspaper.

Danyal leaps off the roof, scaling down the side, ignoring the way his legs want to collapse beneath him as he lands in an alley.

He heads towards the rendezvous, job finished. Efficient as always.

Exactly as is expected of him.

———

It is several months more that he begins to realize there may be something truly wrong.

He’s training-fighting, losing- with the Lady Shiva. If Red Robin could beat her, Danyal must as well.

He’s fairing… okay.

They’ve been engaging for a while now, for a fight, a minute at least, maybe two.

He feels his breath rough in his chest, his face slick with sweat, his body buzzing with adrenaline and the push to do better-

His heart squeezes, seizing up tense and frozen for just a second, his body following in surprise-

There’s a sword through his stomach.

Danyal tries to focus again, to swing his sword, like he’s been trained, but everything feels… loose.

The sword is removed from his stomach, wet blood sliding down his tunic. Cold floor beneath his knees, had he fallen? No, he had to stand, get up, get up, get up. Get up!

Please, you have to get-

There’s hands on him, moving him, the hallways are too dark, -get up, you have to get up- he can’t tell where they’re going. No they’re not dark, his eyes are closed, he pries them open, gasping for breath as the pain in his stomach tears deeper.

Please, he just wants to go home.

Darkness still clouds his vision, but the people carrying him barely glance back as he groans.

His eyes flicker shut, too heavy to keep open as he tries to focus on anything but the pain, on not bleeding out, on please don’t let him die here, not here, please.

They enter another door, letting him stumble across steps farther and farther down.

When they reach the bottom, it seems as though every sound is sucked out from the room. An eerie silence thick in the air.

It forces his eyes open, just a squint, darkness prickling at the edges of his vision.

He barely catches a glance of cave walls before he feels himself thrown forward.

And familiar green fills his vision.

Panic surges.

Pain in his stomach. -His hand. The button!-

Green water surrounding him. -The portal is on!-

Liquid fills his mouth when he tries to scream. -There’s no sound between dimensions.-

It feels like burning acid running across every nerve of his open wound, creeping into his pores like tar covering a dying animal.

But it doesn’t feel like death.

He would know.

It feels a little like life.

He doesn’t want it.

He doesn’t get a choice.

He never does.

It feels like a thousand screaming souls, begging for justice and for freedom, just as he is.

They shout and yell at him to do something, to fight where they can’t, why can’t they, they’re so helpless, angry at their helplessness, angry at their inability, angry angry angry

Their pleas fill his ears, louder with each passing second.

He’s angry, angry, angry- how dare they, how dare they- he could win, they can’t stop him, they deserve it-who’s they?- he’s going to kill them, they can’t stop him-

Frigid humid air stings against his skin, no longer submerged, and green fog tinges everything.

But he-they- need to fight, kill them, stop them, do something, do something because they can’t- fight!

Danny lunges at the first person he sees, an assassin in all black at the edge of green waters.

His fist nearly collapses his skull. It doesn’t stop him.

There’s another and Danny lunges again, ignoring the sword that slashes towards him, grabbing it and snapping the metal with one hand, the other around the ninja’s neck, gripping, cracking, breaking-

Something heavy hits him over the head, the world staticking for a second as his hand loosens, a body dropping to the floor.

Hands reach at him, pulling, holding, restraining, and he fights with sharpened claws and fangs and burning fists of glowing energy and hands ripping hearts from their chest- until there’s so many bodies around him and restraining him, that it actually slows him down.

Enough to realize his powers are flowing easily once more, surprise cutting through the fog in his mind.

He stops actively pulling against the arms holding him down, his cheek now pressed painfully against rocky floor.

Where is he?

A nauseatingly familiar voice fills the room, “You managed quite the damage, Danyal,” Ra’s al Ghul stands in front of him, when Danny is able to lift his head and look, “Perhaps there is still potential hidden behind your weakness, the capabilities of your rage is akin to my first venture into these pools, so many centuries ago.”

The smile on Ra’s’ face sends twitches down his spine and confusion pools in his gut, “What…?” he murmurs, head still murky, but a bolt of fear races through his chest, and he forces his words into the League dialect once more, “What happened…? I..-“ His voice is small, and slowly he feels the assassins holding him release his arms and back away. He pushes himself upright to his knees, finding less strain in his muscles, in his bones, than he has for nearly two years.

“You failed your training, little Al Ghul,” A voice, Lady Shiva, speaks from his right. Her sword is still red.

Danyal’s eyes jump to hers, the memory rushing back- blood, the sword, falling, the water- his hand grips the side of his tunic even as his head snaps to the side, finally seeing the green waters lurking just next to them.

The Lazarus Pits, his training says.

Ectoplasm, his core whispers.

He looks down at the hole in the fabric of his tunic, any bloodstains around it all but gone. There’s not even a scratch.

The rest of his clothes are still layered with blood.

And Danyal knows it isn’t his.

He stands, watching as other league members file in, dragging away the bodies surrounding them.

There are too many to count.

He doesn’t even try.

Ra’s Al Ghul steps forward, drawing his focus once more.

He eyes Danyal critically, “Walk with me, child,” He says, already turning away with robes moving gracefully.

Danyal hurries to move with him, one step behind as they trail through the halls and corridors, slowly moving farther and farther up through the compound.

Finally they step out from an arch, the gentle late afternoon sun lighting up the sky with colors. Just enough light to see clearly, not enough to blind or burn.

It would’ve been a perfect afternoon to die on.

Instead, Danyal catches the sword thrown towards him with surprising grace. Ra’s face is filled with dangerous curiousity as he speaks, “Attack.”

Danyal doesn’t question it. Doesn’t wonder why Ra’s remains unarmed, doesn’t question if he might hurt him. He just acts, lunging forward at the command with nary a second thought.

“Starting today, you will train with me. Each week,” Ra’s speaks as he easily dodges and blocks Danyal’s hits, forcing him to take a new approach each time.

Danyal nods, “Of course, Great One.”

Ra’s knocks him to the ground, standing over him with sword drawn, “Call me Grandfather, Danyal. You’ve earned it.”

Danny’s heart squeezes.

He nods, “Of course Grandfather.”

——

After that, things change. Ra’s Al Ghul keeps to his word, calling for him each week, sometimes no more than a few days apart.

All too quickly it becomes a part of Danyal’s routine. The brutal training sessions of Ra’s beating him down and letting him up only to do it again.

He wishes he had it in him to question the Demon’s Head, but he doesn’t, so when Ra’s tells him to attack, even when unarmed, even when Danyal should rip his throat out with one use of intangibly, Danyal listens and attacks him.

Months into the now singular training, Danyal realizes that he hasn’t left this compound in a while, there hasn’t been a spontaneous move, or travel for a new master.

It’s just been… Ra’s.

He feels more stable, more stationary than he remembers being in so long. His youngest years had been the same routine of constant movement from base to base, compound to compound. And then he had lived.. in America, and had a single home, a house he knew the direction to from anywhere in town. For so many years, he been able to settle in one place.

Only to be uprooted once more, thrown back to everything he’d left behind, everything he’d-

Danyal enjoyed knowing where he would return to at the end of the day. The sense of familiarity that came with the same room, the same bed and halls, day after day, week after week.

Maybe that’s why it catches him by surprise when Ra’s calls for him at the base of a landing pad, jet idle behind him.

Danyal allows a nearby assassin to pass a pack into his hands, clearly full of materials.

For a moment, Danyal wonders where they are going? What new training awaits him at the other end?

Then Ra’s steps aside, dangerously graceful as ever, and reveals the bay of the jet to be not empty, but filled by assassins, each standing at command.

Danyal looks to Ra’s once more.

“An Al Ghul does not only follow, Danyal,” He says with a sharp smile as he approaches, laying a heavy hand on Danyal’s shoulder, “An Al Ghul leads. And as you are my heir, you must learn to command the respect of our members.” The hand squeezes on his shoulder, making him look up, meeting Ra’s in the eyes, “By any means necessary.”

Danyal looks away, looking back at the assassins waiting for him, for his command.

He’s not ready.

He has to be anyways.

The hand on his shoulder feels like lead as he steps out from under it, filling his voice with power he doesn’t feel, and sending the squadron scattering to new assignments.

Flight, equipment, weaponry, information, planning, infiltration, execution, all of it, it’s all on him to control.

Danyal turns back to gauge Ra’s’ reaction, only to find him already halfway gone, the sight of his retreating back the only response.

Okay, he’ll do this.

He can do this.

He has to.

What else can he do?

——

He takes to leading missions with the hand of a natural.

It’s easy.

Send these people here. These people here. Block every exit, erase every loose end, don’t leave any witnesses. Finish the mission.

Their missions are for the betterment of everyone, they are fixing things, getting rid of corrupt leaders, people unworthy of what they have, everything they’re doing is for a reason. It has a purpose.

He has a purpose.

So he ignores what’s behind every number he sends for each job. Ignores the calculation behind every call to secure the exit that has five private guards. Ignores the number behind the perimeter assignment because he knows the building has a late hour maid present each night.

They’re just numbers.

And he’s good at this.

At least he’s good at this.

He kills the first person to question an order.

They don’t question him again.

Everything runs smoother when they don’t question him.

It’s easier this way.

It’s always easier.

——

He’s traveling again. Spending more hours sleeping in hotels and safe houses than any bed he might deign to call his.

More and more time goes by, bit by bit, hour by hour, each filling his body with sand like setting concrete.

Slowly, Danyal feels it begin to wear on him. The exhaustion of the missions, his own body weighing him down with every strike he takes. Refusing to react with the speed demanded of him to succeed.

Danyal pushes past it. It doesn’t matter. This is his duty, it is all that is expected of him and he will do it. Even as he finds himself clutching his chest in the dark of a mission, blood still leaking from his target below him.

He forces himself past it, eyes flickering, steeling himself, then wiping down his blade and leaving, muscles tense and bones shaking.

He makes it as far as the car waiting in the near abandoned parking garage below, his chest continuing to tighten, heart erratic beneath his ribs. Danyal grunts, pain lacing up his arm, struggling not to stumble as he staggers into his seat with a near gasping breath.

He pulls himself together, his words as confident as he can make them as he speaks to the assassin in the drivers seat, “Call Ra’s Al Ghul. Bring me to him. Now.”

Danny feels his heart twitch in his chest, his hand flickering in his vision, or is it his vision that’s flickering, he can’t tell, still the cold leather soothes him, heart pounding louder louder, yelling, screaming in his ears, angry so angry so angry, rage rage rage, fix it fix it fight fight fight for us fight! Don’t let it go, never let it go, revenge, make them pay, they have to pay-!

He comes back with a gasp and a burst of pain across his shoulder, adrenaline and fury still coursing through his veins in equal measure.

His hair is wet, green liquid dripping down his face in sluggish trails mixed with foreign blood. It lays plastered on the curves of his face, framing his eyes as he stares up at the Demon’s Head.

The same malicious smile sits on his face, “Welcome back, Danyal.” The words are tinged with expectance.

Danyal pauses, collected his words around his tongue like a lead weight in his dry mouth, “I- Why was I put in the Lazarus pit again?” Danyal can only hope he’s showing the right amount of deference to even be allowed such a question.

“You were brought to me collapsed, and your heart failing you. The Lazarus pits provided a temporary solution,” Ra’s says, his eyes sharp, “But it is temporary. This problem will not be allowed to continue.”

“Of course, Master,” Danyal pulls himself to his knees, “…I believe it’s because of my accident-“ Danyal pauses, this is closest he’s come to actually telling them how he got his powers, what it did to him-, “There was electricity, and the shock, my heart was-is damaged. I don’t know why it’s getting worse-“

Ra’s hums, “The body can be fixed, child. The mind cannot. This,” Ra’s places a hand on his back as Danyal stands, “is merely an obstacle to our goal.”

“I will not fail you, Grandfather.”

“I know, child.” His words are a guarantee, an assurance to Danyal.

He will prove that the confidence placed in him is not mistaken.

——

It is barely months after that second time that Danyal once again feels his body’s failings encroach on him.

His heart beats off pattern, falling out of rhythm more with every passing day.

Danyal takes a deep breath, willing it to calm himself.

He will not let this stop him. He is an Al Ghul. He is capable. He is strong, and he will not be held back by his own body.

Danyal turns his focus inwards, ripples traveling along the surface of the ectoplasm in his core he’s left untouched for so long now.

He lets the ectoplasm submerge him, turning his form ghostly, his eyes sharper green than they’ve ever been before.

Danyal lets his feet lift off the ground, just for a second, weightlessness enveloping him, the buzzing of the world a background in his ears.

Then his toes touch the ground again and Danyal snaps into movement towards his closet. He puts on his usual league clothes over the old hazmat suit, feeling the layers lighten as he covers them up. Until it feels as though he’s only wearing the league clothes, and his white gloves stare in his face.

Slowly, he removes them, staring for too long at the green lines like cracks trailing up his arm.

Danyal turns away.

He has work to do, he can’t let himself be held up with small feelings like that.

As Danyal travels the halls, every step an effort to remain flat on the ground, he feels the ectoplasm within him roil, coursing faster and stronger than he ever had before, even in the Ghost Zone or in A-.

It revitalizes him and Danyal arrives to Ra’s Al Ghul’s training with bold confidence filling him.

Ra’s greets him an enigmatic smile and a challenge of his strength.

Danyal meets him kind, dodging every lunging, swiping every parry, light on his feet like he hasn’t been in years now.

Their fight lasts longer than any other they’ve had, his muscles able to hold up stronger in this form, his stamina infinite as the ectoplasm he draws from without any need for breathing or rest.

Ra’s Al Ghul is impressed even as he holds Danyal beneath his boot, his sword pressed to his neck.

Glowing green sluggishly leaks from the scratch.

Danyal pays it no mind.

Instead he stares at the small cut on the crown of Ra’s’ head, a single crimson red droplet crawling down the side of his face.

Danyal did not win. But he didn’t loose either.

Satisfaction fills him in a rush, carrying him through even as they reengage.

——

Danyal strives to reach his goals, to hit every target set out for him, beat every opponent put against him, to reach the expectations and the potential that the Demon’s head sees him.

To make himself worthy to be here, to stay.

And he knows his weaknesses hold him back, make him vulnerable, put everything-one- in danger.

So he stops being vulnerable. Stops letting his body, his weaknesses, dictate his capabilities.

Faster and faster his store of ectoplasm drains within him.

And Danyal makes himself stronger and stronger, short exposures of the Lazarus pits to keep it from stopping him.

He can’t stop.

So he keeps going, keeps training, fighting, growing- when had he gotten tall? When had he gotten older?

He keeps working, to be better, to be the best.

And as he approaches the Demon’s chambers weeks later, he is surprised to hear yelling.

More than that, he is surprised to hear Talia’s voice be the one yelling.

He pauses outside the door, eyes narrowed and body resting on the edge of invisibility.

He does not want to know the punishment for eavesdropping, nor for interrupting them… and yet…he hasn’t spoken to Talia, not truly, not since she told him the Batman was dead. Barely seen her except beside the demons’s head in ceremony as he stands at the edges of a room.

It has been entirely too reminiscent of his childhood.

Danyal’s ears prick up as the volume increases once more.

“You cannot ask me to bring him back to use him for-!”

“I do not ask for anything, Daughter! He belongs to the League! And the League to me! It was a mistake to allow you to keep-“

Ra’s’ voice drops too low to be heard through the door, muffling the rest of his words.

Danyal steps back from the door, standing in the hall with questions blooming in multitude.

Moments later, Talia Al Ghul steps through, a force of fury in every step. She catches sight of him immediately, and when Danyal makes eye contact, her eyes are filled with worry, stress, regret, a thousand what-ifs and plans and concerns.

Somehow he knows none of it is for him.

He bows slightly, and she passes by him without a word.

Danyal watches her hair flow as she retreats further and further down the hall until he finally turns around to enter the room.

Ra’s Al Ghul is waiting for him.

He gives no indication that he knows Danyal heard him, so Danyal doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t make the mistake of thinking that means Ra’s doesn’t know.

He always knows.

His training continues.

For days, and weeks, and months more, he continues.

But even a ghost cannot lie to himself forever.

——

When Damian wakes up with chains around his wrists and the familiar feeling of harsh metal beneath his knees, he is not surprised to see his mother standing in front of him.

He wishes it were only his mother.

Instead, his grandfather stands in front of him as well, eyes staring down at him with impassive judgement. Damian feels his spine straighten against his will, the feeling of ‘never good enough’ creeping through his limbs.

He glances at his mother behind Grandfather’s looming form. Her face is uncharacteristically open, the barest hint of tension evident in her jaw, her eyes almost brighter with the concern hidden behind them.

Damian forces his eyes away as Grandfather begins to speak.

“You’ve wasted your time with your father Damian,” he starts, “Letting your training go to waste as the league continues to work to better the world.”

Damian wants to sneer, a scowl forming on his face, “The league does nothing but hurt innocent people. My time as Robin has saved hundreds.”

Grandfather’s eyes sharpen, “And I see it has taken your discipline as well.”

Damian grinds his teeth, “Anything I have learned, I learned from my Father and my family,”

“Your family?” Grandfather says, his tone almost mocking as he raises an eyebrow, “You are an Al Ghul-“

“I am a Wayne too!” Damian says, straining as he rises to his feet, “I am Damian Al Ghul-Wayne! Just as you wanted me to be! And it is my choice to be a hero, to be Robin, and I stand next to Father and the others with pride!”

Grandfather’s glare intensifies, “Do not interrupt me again, Damian. You will not be exempt of the consequences.”

Damian stares him down, fear pressing against his insides with a scream too familiar to his youth.

He turns away with a click of his tongue.

Shame whispers at his cheeks.

Grandfather waves a hand blithely as he turns his back, “Bring him.” He pauses at the door, “He remains bound.”

Damian watches his Grandfather leave, his eyes drifting sideways to his mother.

“Mother, why am I here?” He demands, tone sharp and clear. He tries not to let show how lost he is.

Mother steps forward, laying a gentle hand on his face and the other at the crook of his neck, cupping his cheek as her eyes soften. Regret sits behind them.

“Mother.” He says again, pulling slightly away from her hand, “Why am I here?”

She sighs, stepping back, “The Demon’s Head has need of you.”

Then he watches her leave as well, and Damian finds his arms and hands grabbed as assassins unchain him and push him forward.

He reluctantly lets them lead him through the unfamiliar halls of wherever they are, just a few paces behind his mother.

They stop in front of an open doorway, and when Damian is dragged in front, the sight he is met with brings confusion over anything else.

In front of him is a young man, no older than Todd or even Drake, laying asleep in a hospital bed with a heart monitor attached to him.

The beeping that fills the room is shallow and unsteady, much like the boy’s breathing. His hair is dark with speckled streaks of grey and a natural paleness in his skin.

Worse than that is the IV Damian can see tucked into the crook of his arm, tube trailing up to a bag.

Slowly feeding Lazarus water into his veins.

Damian whips his head around to look at his mother, only to find her staring disdainfully at the boy in the bed.

It only serves to confuse Damian more.

What had this man done to cause his mother such ire?

“Take the sample.” His Grandfather’s voice commands. And Damian feels the arms holding him shift to a more secure grip, pulling him to his knees even as he fights them. A man in a white coat approaches him, and Damian fights harder when he notices the syringe in his hand.

The sting of the needle is dull against the fear crashing through him as his grandfather watches.

His mother looks away.

Finally, Damian jerks as the hands he now knows are Ubu’s release him, still hovering close as he is dropped. He is surprised to see that they actually took blood, rather than dosing him with something. Sedative or worse.

Damian scowls at his grandfather, but he simply looks unconcerned as the assumed doctor moves forward to take a second sample, this time from the boy laying in the bed.

“Why am I here, Grandfather?” He asks, eyeing all parties critically.

“Haven’t you realized, Damian?” His Grandfather asks with a mockingly raised eyebrow, “His heart is failing, and the Lazarus waters can only fix so much by the nature of his defects. Your brother needs you, Damian,” Grandfather says, voice serene, “And you are going to help him.”

Damian barely has a moment to process his words before the hands are pulling him back once more, he yanks his arms from their grip, “Grandfather! What are you- let me go!” Damian turns fully to incapacitate the assassins, only to have Ubu pull his binds harshly sideways and give the servants leverage enough to actually tame his movements.

“Who is he?! Mother!” Damian turns to her, unsurprised to see her turning a blind eye once again, “Mother who is he!? What is Grandfather talking about?! What are you doing!?” The assassins pull at him again, successful in getting him through the doorway as he struggles.

Just before the door closes, he hears the Doctor speak to his grandfather, and his response.

“The boy is a match Great One.”

“Good, prepare Danyal for surgery. As soon as possible.”

The surprise is enough that the door closes in his face and he is dragged back through the hallways.

He stands as much as he can, walking at pace, refusing to allow them to disrespect him by letting them drag him.

He glares at Ubu as he shuts the door of his cell between them.

Once he knows he is alone, Damian takes a better register of his situation. He is still in his Robin uniform, so that means he was out with the family- he has a brother- they’ll be looking for him. He believes he’s on a boat, the rocking, the design of the doors and walls- a brother!- he has to make sure he can be found. Grandfather has plans for him-why tell him now- he doesn’t seem to be listening to Mother’s decisions- his brother’s name is Danyal- he might be in danger-they both could- how is he going to get out-

Damian stops.

He readjusts his clothing, feeling the minute shift once more. There’s something between the collar of his suit.

Slowly, Damian runs his hand along the fabric, finding a small bump he recognizes as a tracker.

One of his own bat made trackers. But how..?

Mother.

Damian scoffs to himself. Of course, he should have known she would never show such an obvious display of affection without reason. She was still largely loyal to Grandfather, but Damian was not so naïve as to think she did not care for him at all.

The vibration of the tracker is rhythmic beneath his fingers, the only solace he gets.

His family is coming.

He knows it.

He just hopes it’s fast enough.

——

Perhaps Grandfather’s first mistake was taking him as Robin, when his family was always the most on edge, the most prepared, the most connected.

Or perhaps his first mistake was training Bruce Wayne in the first place.

Either way, Damian watches from the other side of an observation window as his Grandfather and Father engage in a fight racked with fury on both ends.

Richard jostles him, bringing his attention back into focus.

Right.

His newest brother.

He mumbles an explanation to them, words slurred as they leave his mouth. But he knows they heard him. The shock-caution-suspicion painted across their faces could mean nothing else.

Perhaps his Father was under a curse. Surely there was a limit to how many unknown children one person could have in a single lifetime?

All the same, once freed, he moves to help Drake and Richard remove the boy-brother, Danyal- from the operation table next to him, stepping over the doctors knocked unconscious at their feet.

Reluctantly, he allows Drake to support him under one arm, the anesthesia still weighing down his eyelids.

They rush through the halls like a bull, both him and Drake separating to fight off more than one assassin. Even Richard has to set down Danyal to join the fight at least once.

But finally, they make it to the Batplane idling next to the hull.

The moment they are onboard, the plane starts to move away, but his Father is still on board.

Still fighting with Grandfather as they burst through the doors, fists and weapons engaged in equal measure.

Father dodges sideways, blocking hits until he reaches the rails, then he jumps over without hesitation. And just as Damian is about to shout for him, arm reaching out futilely, Richard blows past him.

He is leaping out of the open cargo door with just as much surety as his father leapt, a cord tied around him, and with perfect precision, he watches Richard catch his father at the extension of his swing.

It’s a perfect demonstration of their partnership.

And Grandfather is left scowling out at them from the ship.

His mother stands alone and calm on the upper deck, watching.

Damian turns his attention to his family.

And to Danyal with them.

——

Returning to the cave is less of an affair than Damian may have expected from such a mission.

His father is-has been- silent for most of the flight, staring at the body of Danyal with blank eyes.

Even Drake and Richard conspicuously cast a glance back every few minutes. Damian controls himself from doing the same. He is not so undisciplined as to be as obvious.

Still, the tension only rises the longer Danyal continues to remain asleep. Even by the time Damian feels the last of the anesthesia leave his own system, Danyal is unchanged.

Damian is certain his grandfather would not choose someone so sickly to be his heir, someone so incapable of protecting themselves in this state. Surely there was a reason he was kept, a reason he was allowed this weakness when Damian was-

Regardless, Damian didn’t trust it. The others could get pulled into this invader’s lies all they wanted, Damian would be there to stop him, he was sure of it.

Still, he watches Pennyworth dote over him in the medbay, Father laying him down on a medical bed with harried care, removing his cowl with barely a thought.

Damian ground his teeth, did they not understand that this was an operative trained by his Grandfather? An assassin with no attachment to them that was favored enough by Grandfather to warrant Damian being-

Damian turned to his locker, glad to replace his weapons stores and feel the weight of his sword at his side once more. It would be a pain, but he would have to find a way to receive a package from his mother if he wanted his other sword back.

It was merely a replica of one of his betters but the desire remained.

He watched from the corner of his eye as the family began to gather in front of the Batcomputer, the screen’s light casting shadows on them even in the artificial cave lighting. Finally, they were going to be doing something.

Damian approached, lingering at the edge where he could still see through the curtains of the medbay.

“I’m not the only one who noticed a suspicious lack of life threatening wounds right?” Drake began, turned away from the console with one hand still on the keys, “I mean, there was that first surgery cut, but that was the same as on Damian. It certainly wasn’t enough to necessitate Lazarus water being entered directly into this kid’s bloodstream.”

Damian scowled, “He was like that before they attempted this. Grandfather said that there was something wrong with… Danyal’s heart, said that I would be able to fix it.”

Father cast another brief look at the medbay, Pennyworth’s shadow still moving within. “I’ll have Agent A call Leslie. Robin,” he turned towards Damian, “Did Talia or Ra’s mention anything else to you? Where .. he’s been this whole time?..Why you didn’t know of his existence?”

Damian shook his head, “No, only that he was my brother and that the pit water was being used to fix him somehow. That I was needed to save him.”

Father hums, turning back with pensive silence.

“B, we don’t even know how long this kid’s been there, he’s older than Damian,” Richard pleads. And it makes Damian duck his head with clenched fists. Who was he? Why was he so much more favored by Grandfather?

Why had they told him he was the firstborn of mother? Of father?

“He could always be a clone with advanced aging, we know Talia is capable of it, she’s done it before,” Drake adds. But the theory sits uncomfortably with all of them. Something just not quite right.

“But then why did they need Damian?” Richard says back.

Father grunts.

“Is it really…” Richard starts, “I mean, we have to consider that she actually kept it secret again. Even from Damian.”

“But B wasn’t even with Talia before that, Damian was the first time they… y’know.” Drake says, a grimace on his face at the end.

Father hums, “But I’d fought Talia before. And I had trained with Ra’s.”

“All it would have taken is one DNA sample, right.” Richard says with a sigh, carding his fingers through his hair, “Well, we might as well-“

There’s a slight clatter on the medbay level, silencing everyone as their heads snap to the sound.

When nothing follows, Father motions them all to head up, flanking the room.

Damian is the closest, entering first. No sooner does he notice Pennyworth laying on the floor before he feels a hand slip around his neck and another quickly snatch the sword at his side. Within seconds, Damian feels his back pressed against another body, the cold steel of his own sword stinging at his neck as he stares into his Father’s eyes.

Except his father is not looking at him, he’s looking at the person holding him.

Danyal.

“Where am I!? Who are you!?” The voice behind him demands, the vibration buzzing against him with the familiar staccato of Damian’s native league dialect.

His family shares a weighted look, clearly hesitant to say anything. Already Damian can see the way their fingers twitch towards weapons and utility belts.

The steel at his neck tightens, “Tell me now or I slit his neck and deliver your bodies to the Demon’s Head myself.”

Father’s stance tightens, anger pulling at his gloves even as he forces himself to put his hands up in surrender. When he answers, it is in the League dialect, “We’re not a danger to you, Danyal,” the blade doesn’t so much as twitch, “Put down the swor-“

Stephanie Brown’s voice rings out across the cave, “Hey, Kate and I just finished patrol and-“

Damian doesn’t pay attention to the rest of the sentence because the moment Brown starts speaking, his assailant’s group loosens just a bit, accompanied by a low, broken whisper of, “English?…”

Damian immediately jabs the flat of his arm up, putting the blade farther from his neck as he begins to grapple with him.

In the blur of movement, Damian sees his sword coming at him, throwing his body back with a barely a second to spare, feeling the supporting hand of Richard on his back as he joins their combined front.

Danyal now stands alone in front of them, stolen sword extended in warning.

And now that Damian can see his face, he knows why his family was hesitant… Danyal’s eyes flicker a bright Lazarus green.

“What do you want from me? Why am I here?” he demands once again.

His Father steps up, “I don’t know how much know about me: my name is Bruce Wayne,” There’s barely even a flicker of recognition, “But you might know me better as Batman.”

The eyes widen, eyes scanning them with fervor before narrowing with suspicion and denial, “The Batman is dead, the Demon’s Daughter told me so herself.”

Drake steps forward, “She was wrong. He came back-“

Damian rolls his eyes, “Clearly Mother must have told you. Do not be stupid.”

Danyal’s brow furrows, silently mouthing the word ‘mother’ beneath his breath.

“I don’t-“ He cuts himself off with a grimace, hands tightening on the shaft of the sword, “I don’t believe you, what-“

“What happened? Did we bring back the demon spawn, why are you all-“ Brown bursts into the room, words already filling the air. Only to stop when she sees Danyal.

He raises the sword at them again, noticeably less stable as he supports it with two hands, “Who are you!? Why am I here!? Tell me-“ He grunts again, putting a hand to his chest, “Tell me, now! I-“ the sword drops, Danyal using it to support himself like a cane. Father steps forward, hands extended. It only serves to make Danyal lift his head to glare at him.

“Stay back-“

“We’re only trying to help-“

“I said-“ Danyal grunts, hand clenching at his shirt as he drops to his knees, “Stay- Stay back- I’m-“

The sword falls from his hands with a metallic clatter on the stony ground, Danyal gasping for breath.

“Back- off..” He whispers, the English falling from his lips with desperation as he curls in on himself.

Father rushes forward the moment Danyal’s body goes limp, lifting him onto the medical bed as the room bursts into motion. Richard is grabbing medical equipment as Drake helps father with providing CPR as Brown moves to get Alfred, all of them quick to jump to action.

Damian slowly steps forward, picking up his abandoned sword from the floor.

He turns it over in his hands, making sure it is unharmed from the ordeal even as he watches his family rush to help each other.

Just what had Grandfather been doing to Danyal?

Part 2: https://www.tumblr.com/snaileer/752878745769181184/call-to-my-bedside-part-2?source=share

[midnightshindig]

That Cecil’s kid one was amazing! Could we get a version where Cecil was unfortunately too busy with work to be there for his kid? Maybe they grow up to resent him a little and eventually secretly end up working with the Mauler Twins, Angstrom, etc (maybe even Viltrumites if you’re willing), for their own personal gain, or what ever reasons you see fit? Take your time! Sorry in advance for this request being kinda long :)

Cecil & Villain!Child!Reader

Oh my god i've been wanting to do this request for so long!! Thank you for submitting it!

hcs under the cut

Your mother died young, being a superhero did that.

You never hated her for it, for protecting others and for doing her best

but you couldn't help but resent her a little for who your father was

or rather, who he wasn't

Father was a generous term for what Cecil was. He was a lot of things

Head of the GDA, most powerful non-powered civilian on Earth, a badass ex spy and a great diplomat and genius

but he was NOT a father

you both knew it.

You barely knew the guy, being raised by a nanny specifically for superpowered children like yourself

You saw him occasionally at dinner, but that was maybe once a month.

He, for safety reasons, didn't want the world to know the two of you were related

so naturally, when you had a big baseball game, or your schools talent show cropped up, or even when you landed a main role in your senior play, he "couldn't" attend

Oh sure, it was taped and streamed to him, but you knew he never watched.

So was it really any surprise when you weren't jazzed about becoming a superhero?

When, throughout your final year of high school and the two years after, you befriend the Mauler Twins?

Even supervillains are allowed pen pals in prison, and they made such compelling ones for you to correspond with

It was a fun guessing game as to which twin had written what, and over the course of three years, the three of you had become something akin to friends

They gave you advice on what your major should be, how to handle the stress of college, and shared anecdotes from their own lives

It was hard to imagine them as normal people once, but they made a convincing story

You knew it was likely supervillain manipulation, but they seemed interested in your life, I mean, its not like they had tv

So you would detail your day-to-day life, sharing your frustrations with Cecil and the GDA as a whole

"What an asshole." the three of your would agree

Maybe you three could work together? It was an idea brought up frequently.

So honestly, you weren't really all that surprised when they showed up at your house after getting broke out of prison

Your powers were marginally useful, the ability to phase through walls and be invisible.

It was USEFUL, but not terribly flashy.

Either way, it made stealing things with them incredibly easy.

Cecil didn't notice when you stopped coming home

god knows he was never there

he did notice, however, when the Declaration of Independence went missing

and when GDA specialty supplies went missing

and when the schematics for all sorts of government wherewithal went missing.

"Donald- what the FUCK is going on?!" Cecil demanded, watching the surveillance streams

"Uh- Sir, you need to see this-" The feed was cut and changed to the news

The Mauler twins, business as usual. Whatever.

But-

"OH my god- Y/n?" Cecil put a hand to his head, pacing back and forth

He thought you'd moved out- maybe with roommates or a partner or something- but this?

Oh fuck....

Cecil teleported to the scene, the Mauler Twins and you attempting to break into the White House once more.

"Y/n! Get over here!" Cecil called out, a mix of anger and pain in his voice

you ignored him.

The Guardians of the Globe arrived

and realistically there wasn't a way they could tell them "oh leave that one alone its my offspring."

And so, as all good things go, your villainous spree ended with you in GDA's supervillain prison.

"Why? I want to know why." Cecil sat across from you with his hands folded

"God- what do you care?" you spat back, your hands cuffed and an anti-power collar around your neck

"Because, Y/n, you're my child and I care about you. At the very least I don't want you in prison."

"You didn't even know I had powers."

"Of course I did!"

"You knew I could phase through walls, but being invisible? I've read the files, Mom couldn't do that. And you had no idea I could."

Cecil sat in silence for a minute. Processing.

"Is that what this is, Y/n? Rebellion?"

You shook your head, rolling your eyes "Of course, everything I do is to appease or piss off a guy I don't even know."

"I'm your father, Y/n."

"Fuck off." your glare was cutting, and the tone in your voice oozed venom with every syllable.

"The Mauler Twins helped me enroll in community classes, they gave me advice about being an adult and how the world works. They listened and were happy for me when I graduated. They sent me a shitty graduation card with the supplies you give them in prison. To be clear- these guys were in prison and they showed up more than you did."

Cecil literally couldn't believe what he was hearing.

"Y/n, you're only eighteen, you need to rethink thi-"

"I'm twenty."

Cecil blinked, standing up and going to the door, speaking with Donald through the door before returning

"Twenty.... wow...."

You leveled another glare at him "Yeah. Time flies when you're having fun." your tone was sarcastic, and your disdain apparent.

"Look. I'm sorry for being a bad father, but you're a criminal."

"So? Lock me up, throw away the key. Just fuck out of my life, you were doing so good until now."

Cecil let out a long, drawn out sigh. Feeling twenty years of disappointment in a single moment "Y/n, I know I never took the time to know you, but know this. I don't waste potential."

...

"Go fuck yourself, Cecil."

Bonus!:

The Mauler Twins are being interrogated for their involvement with you

they don't usually take accomplices, so the GDA wanted to know why

instead all they got were violent outburst about your location

"Where is Y/n?! They are INNOCENT damnit! My Clone will agree-!"

"I'm not the clone. But as the ORIGINAL, I demand to know where Y/n is and that they are safe!"

The twins are assured of your safety, but do not calm down until surveillance footage of you and Cecil's interrogation is shown to them

This puts them at ease, as they continue to testify to your innocence.

The GDA has never seen them so concerned about anyone other than themselves

"We will gladly serve our time- god knows we will always find a way out- but Y/n is innocent, release them this instant!"

[brunhielda]

Ok- so I have been scrolling through posts for Cinderella’s Castle like a crazy person. Like you do.

Most of the posts are people squealing over their favorite bit currently, or just in general how much they loved it.

However-

Every one in 20 posts has someone expressing disappointment, and finding it lack luster.

It seems like you either are salivating over how good it was, or bored, and annoyed no one else was.

The main complaint seems to be “the characters are flat compared to other shows.”

As someone obsessed with fairytale fantasy, I just needed to come on here and say…

No duh.

Fairytales are not about the character as a person. They are about the person as a symbol/theme. Any detail about them suddenly humanizes them and makes them that much more relatable. But they are never, I repeat, NEVER, a fully realized person. Even in more modern fairytale adaptations, you don’t come for the character, you come for the story as a whole, and stay for the character’s “vibe” that allows you to create elaborate back ground details in fanfiction. The whole appeal of a fairytale is “less is more.”

Ella was raised as a Lady. She likes to paint. She sees herself as brave and tough, and wants to stop evil even if it kills her. She is clever and kind and has dreams. She is utterly practical in accomplishing her goals. She loves her family and friends deeply.

That is all we know.

We don’t know her favorite color, or if she’s a jazz girl, or even what she wanted out of life before this all happened, only that she misses her family.

That is the POINT. Ella, the cinder girl, the girl of ashes, is EVERY YOUNG GIRL WHO IS RAISED IN ABUSE. That is why the tale of Cinderella exists. So grandmothers and mothers could instill in children the deep knowledge that they deserve more, can survive, and do it without letting it break them.

Cinderella is someone you know because she is not pinned down with details. She just is.

Every character in a fairytale is that.

The stepmother is the abuser.

The Troll is a ruling class not from here.

The Princeton a fairytale is an escape and a stamp of approval of your morals. Not his own person. He is Deux Ex Machina. The fact that he HAS a personality here and it is awful is a subversion and holding up Ella’s personal determination over higher approval. She doesn’t need someone else’s approval to prove she is doing the right thing- she knows it, and holds it like the starlight in her hand. And that is GLORIOUS.

The Griswald sisters are a show of how even when you are utterly destroyed by evil, the fact that you were bright, and good, and true MEANS SOMETHING and still helps make the world better.

The frog knight is kindness repaid, and to not judge by appearances.

The mouse squire is that willingness to do something, even if you don’t have the skills, is important. Is worth something. (I saw someone talking about Crumb serving no perpose because he did not effect the plot. Of course he didn’t. The point of him is that he was WILLING, and that alone made her life better. And whimsy. Sometimes in genre, a thing is just for “vibes” and that’s what makes it genre. You cannot have fantasy without whimsy. He be whimsy.)

Even Tadius is a newer symbol of the “faithful servant.” Who does he serve? The Prince? The people? By following orders, or by using his wits?

And the Fairy Godmother. There is so much happening there, I could do a whole TedTalk. But basically, the fairy godmother is Help. It is offered help. She offers it because Cinderella was kind and had an anger in her screaming for justice. The fairygodmother in any story shows up to reward a virtue that the mc takes for granted. They don’t feel worth of the help, are even inclined to turn it down. The point of Cinderella is you TAKE THE HELP. Pride be damned, self worth be damned, you take it and you USE it to make things RIGHT.

The point is this:

A fairytale is about the themes. It is ABOUT the message. It is ABOUT how older themes get changed to fit modern understanding and turn into new themes.

What they did with ash and fire and starlight was incredible. The fact that they brought Fairy Godmother back to the Fairy who is a Mother Goddess was breathtaking because it made Cinderella’s quest for justice holy, not just empowered.

These characters are not flat. They are given thier depth by their role and themes rather than by the plot or personal details.

If you were bored by this, you don’t like fairytales. You may enjoy some of the trappings, but would like it better in a fantasy styled romance or drama, which is not the same thing.

This is not “connecting to humanity by connecting to a character not you.”

This is “connecting to something deeper and more than all of us put together through the use of symbology.”

Maybe that ain’t for you. Maybe you prefer to explore all this plane has to offer. That’s totally an acceptable preference. But don’t come in here and call it a bad show. It’s just not your genre.

(Also, since ya’ll seem to call out Hatchetfield stuff too- maybe you just don’t like genre centric stories 🤷🏻‍♀️)

[murphy-kitt]

Ectober Day 4 - Came Back Wrong

Word Count: 1,645

Tags: Angst, Character Death

AO3

—

Jazz didn’t hate the ghosts at first.

But now she loathes them.

Back when her parents research was merely myth, Jazz hadn’t bothered to focus on the theories or speculation they spurred out. Why would she?

Every waking minute at Fentonworks was spent talking about ghosts. Ghost this, ghost that. What new weapons they had conjured up (to her, it’d seemed stupid. Why did you need defence against things that weren’t real?).

Her own mind didn’t need plagued by ghosts all hours. But now, admittedly, it’s all she thinks about. She doesn’t think of them in the way her parents do.

The hatred may be the same, but the science—that doesn’t matter. She doesn’t want to cut them up or learn what a core is.

All she wants is revenge.

Because it was the ghosts that killed Danny, in the end. That stupid, stupid portal.

And in a right mindset, she’d blame her parents, their negligence. The practicality of it was, that it had been her parents fault. She was aware enough to know logically that Jack and Maddie Fenton had been the reason.

But the reason for their portal? Was their obsession with ghosts. And so it became deliberate ignorance.

Directly it might’ve been her parents, but if their obsession with ghosts hadn’t happened then portal would’ve never existed and her baby brother wouldn’t be dead.

The night is dark as Jazz sits by her desk, blinds open as she watches for any sightings of ghosts outside. Her eyes are heavy, a mix of academic drag and grief. Which one prevails, she doesn’t know.

She knows Danny would want her to keep going academically. And although Danny was never spiteful, merely witty, it feels important to do this. To..get justice…closure?

Jazz picks up the ghost scanner with a trembling hand. It constantly buzzes, a malfunction that her parents never fixed, but she doesn’t care. It’s the one bit of tech she trusts to be reliant.

A rare moment of determination, she’d stolen it from the lab when they weren’t looking. Her dad would probably think he’d misplaced it.

“Come on, come on.” She narrows her eyes, feeling as frustrated as she had on her last exam. Her mind doesn’t work the same way anymore.

Once studying was done with a breeze, but now this plagues her. Danny’s death. The emptiness. Her parents are constantly working.

Of course, she still gets good grades, despite being told she’s relieved of all assignments for the year. But it feels more like an obligation, than something she used to enjoy.

Perhaps this is what the burnout Danny used to describe is. Danny was never as academically competent, always slower but eventually getting there.

Now justice is all she lives for. Any will do. Any target.

She just needs…violence? To rant? Anger? She doesn’t know.

Just something.

Something to feel anything but the deep dread weighing down on her, tethering her to an endless cycle of grief.

And then the scanner starts wailing, making Jazz tense slightly. She relaxes, before checking the small screen.

“A loud noise, so a powerful ghost surely?”

And she’s right.

Ghost: Phantom.

Power Level: 7.8

Current Core Usage: 80%

Jazz interprets, given the ghosts core usage, that it’s currently in a fight with another one. Plays hero, of sorts.

Phantom’s the worst one for her. He’s never done anything to her—but she hates him.

He’d appeared a few weeks after the portal had opened, whilst everyone was still reeling over Danny’s death. Yet, at that time Amity couldn’t ever have expected the paradigm shift Phantom was about to throw them into.

Ghosts everywhere. Constant fights. Damage. Already grieving and to blame parents wearing themselves down even more to defend the town.

Albeit, not very well, but she didn't dare say that. They’d already lost Danny, they didn’t need to lose the ghost hunting too.

Without another word, Jazz slips on her winter jacket, slipping open the door and down the stairs. Scanner in one hand, compact ectogun tucked into her belt.

She can hear her parents' snores echo from upstairs. Good. They won’t miss her for a while.

Cold air freezes her to her bones as she steps out into the street, instantly looking up at the sky. Dark blue and empty, only a few stars twinkling.

She’s sure if Danny was here he'd tell her what constellations they were.

“Where are you?” she grits out, watching as the small screen on the scanner shows a bright green dot, about two blocks ahead. There’s another dot too, smaller and weaker, before it disappears off the map. Jazz presumes Phantom has captured or weakened the ghost, whatever he does.

So she needs to be fast.

Within less than a minute, Jazz makes it to the street where the scanner showed, then shoves the scanner into her pocket. She doesn’t need to alert her presence.

And there he is.

Phantom is smaller up close than she’d initially thought, although no one at Amity has ever got a good glance. His back is facing towards her, the black of his jumpsuit glistening under a street lamp.

Something cylindrical in his hands has captured his attention, probably why he’s not noticed her yet. Jazz strains her neck to look, but can’t see.

Phantom. The ghost that’s put her parents through so much hell.

The ghost that’s, whilst Amity was still reeling from Danny, racked up the problems on their list by causing destruction to infrastructure and pointless money. All with a side of witty banter.

“You.” Jazz tries to steady her voice, feeling the grief trickle through. All this, for her brother.

She never got to grieve properly. No one did. How were they supposed too, with ghost fights all around?

Phantom’s reaction is immediate. His back stiffens and he swivels around.

The eyes. They’re a piercing lime green, just like the portal. The portal that killed Danny.

“What do you want?” Phantom’s asks, tone initially surprised but flattening. He’s younger than Jazz expected. Fifteen, at most.

Near the same age as Danny.

“What do you think?” Her eyes narrow, reaching for the ectogun attached to her belt. She doesn’t expect a logical answer.

Of course Phantom won’t know why she’s here, or what she’s after. He’s just a ghost with an obsession of being some copy-paste comic hero.

“I—I don’t know.” The ghost mumbles, eyes now averted down to his left hand. He tucks the cylindrical device under his shoulder before tracing a round shape on his left palm.

That’s…strange. Jazz thinks. Not the answer, but his behaviour. Is he thinking of something in the past? Better yet, he’s still here. Usually Phantom, at least to news reports, is enigmatic, and never likes being filmed.

So the fact he even turned in the first place is perplexing.

But then she thinks of Danny. Buried in the cemetery, grave stricken of flowers due to the quickness of their grief. Amity bombarded with attacks on the constant, never any peace.

All Phantom’s fault. At first, perhaps (the attacks) not. But over the months, he’s gotten quite a reputation. She’s sure he has some sort of control over Amity. That ghosts come to Amity now just for the sake of fighting him.

When he’s really just a five-foot nothing skinny teenager like her brother.

If Phantom is gone, she’ll finally get a break. Get to grieve for Danny. Danny can get the justice and tribute he deserves.

The ectogun is sleek in her hand, tucked under her coat. She knows what she’s doing, having received multiple lessons from her parents after Danny’s death. They didn’t want to lose her too.

Unlatch the safety trigger, quickly aim, shoot.

It’s that simple. She points.

”Please! Please—don’t do that!” Phantom pleads, “You don’t know what you’re doing—please, put it down!”

—

“Please, Danny! I need you!” She cries out. She’s in Danny’s room, the bed still unmade, clothes still strewn about.

Untouched from when Danny had last left it. He’d gone into the lab, and that was it. Electrocution, they told her.

He’d been barely hanging on at the hospital. And then his body couldn’t take it any longer.

Her brother is gone.

—

The next thing Jazz knows is the cold pavement underneath her body, sitting with her knees drawn up to her chest on the curb. The ectogun is a few feet away, glittering in the lamplight.

”I can’t—“ she sniffles, not even realising it. Her cheeks are damp, eyes stinging.

”What’s wrong?” An echoey voice besides her. Phantom. His eyes are narrows in concern. He sits near her, but leaves a gap.

Why’s he still here? He should’ve gone long ago.

“What’s wrong? My brother is dead and his body was barely cold before you waltzed in with your stupid puns and caused damage everywhere!” The anger radiates through Jazz’s body as she scowls at him, “My brother’s death was cast aside because of you. My parents never got time to grieve, none of us did. Too busy expecting another ghost attack or repairing damages.”

“Your brother?” Is all Phantom responds. Wiping her eyes, Jazz takes a glance at him. He’s hunched over, grimacing with an expression she can’t quite read.

”I just want Danny back.” She chokes out, wiping her eyes again, feeling the tears fall.

He’s gone. Only fourteen. What sort of age is that to die? Killed at the invention of their own parents. She’ll never hear his (admittedly annoying) chatter about space, nor have their petty arguments again.

Even the times he got on her nerves meant something.

”Jazz, I—“ Phantom starts to say, but freezes.

As does Jazz.

”How do you know my name?” She tilts her head, voice sharp.

She wipes her eyes, again, blinking back the bleary vision.

Then looks right into Danny’s green eyes.

[waliminium]

Would you be able to do reader x Harvey inspired by the song “I miss you, I’m sorry” by Gracie Abrams!?

A/N: I tried my best, but I don't know if it does the song justice. If you'd like any adjustments, I can always tweak things!! :) What We Don't Say Pairing: Harvey Specter x Reader Warnings: angst, heartbreak, betrayal (not cheating), unresolved conflict, emotional manipulation mentioned Word Count: 826

The worst part wasn’t that Harvey wouldn’t talk to her. It was that he looked at her like he used to care.

He had always been good at hiding things. His emotions. His fears. His feelings for her—until he wasn’t. Until one night, after years of tiptoeing around the tension, he finally gave in. Pulled her in by the wrist, kissed her like a promise, and made her his.

Now he was back to being unreadable. Worse than unreadable—he was cold.

The firm was quieter without their secret glances. Without her coffee waiting on his desk before he arrived. Without the quiet knock on her office door at midnight when they were both still there. Working. Pretending.

He hadn’t said a word to her in three weeks.

Not since that night.

Not since she told him she’d been talking to Charles Forstman behind his back.

“It wasn’t personal,” she had tried to explain. “He reached out to me. I thought it was about another client. I didn’t know—”

“You didn’t know he was trying to get to me?” Harvey had shouted, voice razor-sharp, eyes filled with betrayal. “You think I haven’t seen this game before? You think I haven’t watched people try to use you to get to me? But you let it happen.”

She didn’t argue. She couldn’t. Because he wasn’t wrong.

She’d thought she was protecting him, navigating the situation without needing to involve him. She thought it would blow over, that she could fix it before it became a problem. But secrets have a way of rotting everything.

She had let him down. She’d broken the one thing Harvey valued above all else—trust.

Three weeks.

That was how long it had been since he’d spoken to her beyond clipped professionalism.

So when she found herself outside his apartment on a Thursday night—rain clinging to her coat, eyes heavy from crying—she didn’t expect much. Just… a chance.

She knocked.

Footsteps approached. Then the door cracked open.

Harvey stood there in sweatpants and a black t-shirt. Barefoot. Unshaven. Exhausted. He didn’t look surprised to see her. He looked tired of seeing her.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

He didn’t move to close the door. But he didn’t move to open it either.

“I just—I needed to say something. Please.”

He exhaled, jaw flexing. But he stepped back.

The door opened.

She stepped inside like she didn’t know the layout by heart. Like she hadn’t spent more nights in his bed than her own this year. Like it hadn’t once felt like home.

Everything looked the same, but colder. The jazz wasn’t playing. The bottle of Macallan sat unopened. The warmth was gone.

He stood across from her like she was a stranger.

“I never wanted to lie to you,” she began.

“You didn’t just lie,” he snapped. “You chose to lie. Over and over.”

“I was trying to handle it myself. I thought—”

“That I’d be mad?” His laugh was hollow. “I’m not mad because of what he said. I’m mad because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me.”

Silence.

Her throat felt like it was closing. “I’m sorry.”

“You always say that,” he said flatly. “But you keep doing the same thing.”

She nodded, lips trembling. “I know. And I get it if you’re done. I just—I needed you to hear it from me. I needed you to know that I’d take it all back if I could. Every bad choice. Every moment I didn’t come clean.”

He looked at her then, and it shattered her.

Because it was still there. That softness buried beneath anger. That trace of love in the hurt.

But he blinked, and it was gone.

“I loved you,” he said.

Past tense. A knife.

“I still do,” she whispered.

“That’s not enough,” he replied.

She took a step forward. “Harvey—”

“No.” His voice was low. Controlled. Deadly. “You don’t get to come here when it’s convenient for you. You don’t get to play this card. Not after everything.”

Her heart cracked. “So that’s it?”

His lips pressed together. “You burned the bridge.”

“But I’m standing on the ashes,” she whispered.

He looked away.

“I waited for you,” she continued, voice trembling. “Every day. Every time my phone buzzed. Every time I passed your office. I kept thinking you’d come back. That we’d find our way back.”

“I did that too,” he admitted. “For a while.”

She wiped a tear. “Do you hate me?”

“No,” he said after a beat. “I just don’t know if I’ll ever believe you again.”

She nodded slowly, because that was fair. That was more than fair.

“I miss you,” she said one last time, barely above a whisper. “And I’m sorry.”

Harvey didn’t respond.

She turned to leave, her hand on the doorknob.

But just before she opened it, she heard him say it—quietly, broken, like a truth he couldn’t bear to keep in anymore:

“I miss you too.”

[prettygirlformula]

things i do to distract myself.

i dont usually post textposts, but i decided to do something different because, its november!!! nd we all know this months is when things go wrong and i've been struggling to practice self-care so here are some of my favourite things i like to do to remind myself i am loved, and perhaps give you all some inspo if you're in a funk too!! <3

listen to music i tend to have different playlists as i believe that the music you listen to dictates your mood. as much as i enjoy my jazz and classical, when im in a funk i need to be hype 24/7!! my go to's are usually anything future, miss stallion, glorilla, king von, tate mcrae, charli or carti. i need to listen to music that'll manifest success and confidence.

read i'll read anything really, just to keep my mind off social media BECAUSE I DO NOT WANT TO ROT MY BRAIN WHEN IM FEELING SULKY. im currently reading letters from a stoic by seneca - im learning plenty and its keeping me stay calm

body movement i love a good run, or a pilates sesh so i'll put all my anger and sadness into pushing myself to run an extra k, or that extra set. sometimes its nice to just clear ur lungs and ur mind, and it'll build my strength physically and mentally!!! plus i'll look even better so he'll regret ever ending things with me

visit the beach im a beach girl forever, the ocean has always been my best friend. a quick swim will alwayssss level me out. there's cute boutiques and my favourite açai place along the esplanade and i love walking down there during the sunset or sunrise to keep me busy.

annoy my friends i love my friends so much they're my everything!!! they bring me peace even if we're loud. there's something about surrounding yourself with positive and loving energy that i'll never get tired of, if i could i would give all my love in my body to them.

write ive always been a writer i think. i have to get everything in my mind onto paper or a document or i lose it. its nice to write in my journal about things im grateful for, things im scared about and things i want to achieve. as well as just what went on in my day - i think that now im out of high school im living a much more dramatic and different life to what i used to, so i need to process these things. also i write w a muji pen so it makes the experience so fun.

cry no matter how nonchalant i try to be, im a crier - even at the clubs (it gets embarrassing) but i find it a great way to rid my anger, sadness or stress - better out than in.

meditate ive only just started practicing this, but its very peaceful!! well duh i like to do it during sunset in the park near one of the beaches i frequent (so i can swim too hehe) and the sound of the waves, the people and life can kind of block out anything in my head!!

clean/re-organise my room organised room = organised mind!! (my dad taught me that one) but during this process i always find something that i forgot about and i get distracted, so it takes longer but i get the job #done

call my mummy my mum and i are close, shes my best friend so i tell her everything (except my tattoos and my ehem..rendevouz..) her wisdom has helped me in a lot of situations...i tend to write down the advice she gives me so i dont forget and fuck up. again :p

retail therapy maybe not the most healthy way of self-care, but it gets the job done i cannot lie!! sometimes you need to spend a little bit of money to sustain some peace in your life. you do need that glossier lip liner babe, get it, you deserve it.

ofc some of these things may not work well for you, but self-care is what makes you feel good!!! im open to new ideas of self-care so lmk what you guys do :p + thank you so much for 3 blessed years on this account, eternally grateful for everyone <3

[elzifelzi]

PHANTOM

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Chapter 16:Haunted Hallows Part 1

 Meanwhile in an attempt to clear his head Dan trudged through the moonlit Forest.  He had been walking for a few minutes before his phone began ringing in his pocket. He pulled it out and the caller id,read "Dad".What could he want? Why now? These were the questions Dan thought as he hesitantly swiped up and answered the call. 

Dan:”hey”

Jack:”hey”

Dan:...... 

Dan:”Any reason you called?” 

Jack:”I contacted the university, they said that you already left campus for summer.. “

Dan:”yeah we did.. What of it?”

His voice was like ice and he was certain Jack could fill the chills through the phone.

Jack:”I- I mean we assumed that you'd be coming home for summer..”

Dan:”didn't think you'd want me there.”

Jack:”Danny you're my son of course I want you there..”

Dan:”Then why wait till now to call? I hadn't heard from you for damn near a full year till now.so why?”

Jack:”............I..I mean we wanted to give you your space, and with Jazz missing we just……”

Dan:”JAZZ IS MISSING!!?”

That was the most emotion Dan had allowed himself to feel up until that point….

Dan:”How long?”

Jack:”what?”

Dan:”How long has she been Missing!!?”

Jack:”About 6 months.”

Dan:”And you didn't tell me? Are you even looking for her!?”

Jack became appalled at Dan's insinuation.

Jack:”of course we have but…”

Dan:”But what!?”

Jack:”Jazz is an adult,she'll be alright.”

Dan:”You haven't changed a bit have you…”

Jack:”I see neither have you... I don't know what else you want from me Danny! We let you go to college, we even fund this ridiculous passion of yours!! Even after what you did!!”

Dan gripped his phone tighter trying his hardest not to break it. The anger he felt from that one statement was immeasurable.

Dan:”.. You know good and damn well what happened wasn't my fault!! And….”

He caught himself before he said something he'd regret.

 Dan:”you know what, never mind..Thanks for the talk dad glad to see you in such high spirits and give mom my regards.”

Jack:’Dan, wait I'm.... “

Dan:”You know what Dad.. I can see why Jazz disappeared.i wouldn't want to be in that house with you either. “

Jack:”Danny…son, wait I…”

Beep.. Dan cut off the phone and Dumped it back into his pocket. That was the first time he'd talked to his father since he'd left for college but the pain he felt on that day was the exact same pain that he felt now,helplessness,frustration And Sadness. All he could do to prevent himself from falling to his knees where he stood was to continue walking forward with hopes that he could take his mind off it. No sooner had he continued walking his ghost sense began to go off and from behind a collection of trees emerged a green skeleton Like ghost with red eyes frantically swinging a sword at Dan. Instinctively our hero immediately took a battle stance. 

Dan:”I'm going....”

He stopped halfway.

 Dan:”Wait, shit I can't use my ghost powers or else skulker will find me. “

Dan began running away helpless against the current threat. He had relied so much on his powers up until now that he hadn't ever thought about what would happen in a situation where he couldn't use them.He ran for what seemed like hours in one direction but only a few minutes had passed. Eventually, he hit a dead end and with his back against the wall he had no other options. 

Dan:”I'm going…”

He could only get out the 1st 2 words of his signature battle cry  before the skeleton was knocked out by a shadowed assailant.Upon closer inspection it was Sam with what appeared to be a baseball bat. 

Sam:”You got real far didn't you?. Comeon let's go, that won't hold him off for long but if we leave now we can lose him. “

Dan:”gee am I glad to see you!”

Sam flashes him a cheeky grin.

Sam:”likewise.”

Sam took the lead and together with Dan they left.

to be continued…

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Chapter 17:Haunted Hallows part 2

Back on Skulkers Island he informed the mysterious figure from before of Dan's disappearance and as Skulker expected he wasn't happy about it one bit. 

???? :”how could you let him out of your sight?? we need him!!“

Skulker :”it isn't that serious…”

???? :”Of course it is you, useless psychopath!!!”

Skulker raised his hook at the figure's throat. 

Skulker :”Mind running that tone by me again?”

???? :”cut it with the stupid hook you sociopath.. This is a serious matter.”

Skulker Lowers His weapon and returns to his throne.

???? :”What are you doing.?”

Skulker:”waiting for you to shut up so I can talk.”

???? :”Fine talk!!”

Skulker :”The boy running was expected,I practically gave him the idea myself but that's no issue like I told you he WILL return.”

???? :”how'd you figure?”

Skulker : “Because I'm A Hunter and I understand my prey .”

????  :So what, we just wait for him to come back? We can't do that!! Who knows how long it'll take for him to come back!!you're just saying all this simply because you can't find him!”

Skulker :”You're not very bright are you?”

????:”huh?”

Skulker:”I still have an Ace up my sleeve”

He points to the blinded Boxghost who was helplessly chained up in a corner.

Skulker:”With That idiot's ability we can locate the ghost boy no matter where he goes in the human world or the ghost zone.The concept of losing him was never even a possibility.”

????:”Then why haven't you?”

Skulker :”The box ghost needs his eyes for the ability to work and he hasn't regenerated them yet.It will probably be another day or 2 before they're fully healed.”

The figure facepalms in frustration.

????:”He's Only Blind because of youu!!!”

Skulker simply shrugged.

Skulker:”Whether we look for him or not he will come back and if he's doing what I believe he's doing I'm certain that when he comes back he will be eveb stronger. All we have to do is wait.”

Skulker :”Now you just need to do your part.”

???? :”And what would you have me do?”

Skulker:”It's your job to find and bring our other half ghost partner here.”

???? :”What makes you think he'll help?”

Skulker:”He's already been helping,now we're Just having him be more proactive.”

Skulker pulls out a phone-like device and gives it to him.

Skulker:”His coordinates are on this..use this to find him.”

He then reaches into his pocket and pulls out a crumpled up photo.

????:”What's this?”

Skulker:”I found this in the ghostboys home,our friend may find this very useful.”

The figure grabs the device and the picture and leaves to scour the human world for this other human ghost hybrid. After hours of searching he stumbled on the supposed human while he was exiting his home.

???? :”Vladimir Masters I presume”

Vlad:”You presumed right,and I take It you’re one of Skulkers men?”

The figure nodded.

Vlad:”If he's sent you , that must mean that plans are accelerating. What is it that he wants with me now?”

???? :”I've been told by him that you have certain abilities, abilities that would be a great use to us,I've come to confirm them.”

Vlad lets out a loud scoff as a sinister grin forms on his face.

Vlad:”I see,it's finally my turn to join the fray very well.”

A red glow envelopes around his hand and he fires an ecto ray at a nearby tree.

Vlad:”Is that proof enough for you?”

The cloaked figure nods then hands Vlad the crumbled photo that Skulker had given him,as he unfolded it he was surprised to see a picture of his old college roommates Jack and Maddie with their son Danny Fenton.

????: Skulker picked this up from the ghost boy's alleged home.”

Vlad:”The Fentons? Why I haven't seen them in years! and you say this photo was in the ghost boy's home?”

The figure nodded.

Vlad:”Why would the ghost boy have a picture of the fenton family unless ... .Are you trying to tell me that the ghost boy,Is Jack's son?”

The ghostly figure nodded once again prompting another sinister grin to form on Vlads face.

Vlad:”So what would you have me do?”

????:”Soon we will resume the search for Dan. He is a vital piece in our conquest.When we do find him your assistance will be needed in swaying him to our side.”

Vlad:”Seems simple enough.Is that all?”

????:”Yes, Skulker believes that seeing another halfa may be enough to influence the boy.”

Vlad lets out a light chuckle

Vlad:”Well well Jack you old fool it looks like your son will finally reap the consequences of your sins .”

???? :”so do we have a deal?”

The mysterious figure extendeds an open hand towards Vlad, Vlad takes his hand and shakes it smiling eagerly. 

Vlad :”It's a deal..”

To be continued…

New Chapters out, both these chapters were very short on their own, so I dropped them together,hope you guys understand the teen angst.Please keep reading!! Or i'll come to your house and tickle you.

READ the other released Chapters here.

[the-scarecrow-of-aus]

Soooo...

Um, for mermay...

I was thinking of what might be fun to write for dcxdp, I thought I might be able to hash something out as I drove home from work earlier...

Listening to a random Spotify playlist that contained 'two' songs right after each other.. (this will come up later)

People know about pirate!batman right?

'Leatherwing'

My mind went about updating leatherwing to include all the bats and birds. Then it went to how I'd introduce danny.

-

Danny, who learnt he was a mermaid when he was 14, after being knocked overboard unconcious, into the port he fell, getting brained by a stray lumber spar, caught in fouled rigging and then dragged over the side by dead weight all on accident by his port-friend sam.

He didn't drown, but it took a while to wake up then realising you were staring at the underside of the ships keel.

-

not a good thing to discover when your parents hunt mermaids and other mythical creatures. "Dangerous creatures danno my boy, once you anger a mermaid best ready yourself because they don't forgive easily!"

Even worse when they're constantly travelling by ship with their benefactors: the GIW (the gentlemen in white).

A privately sponsored armada of hunters: whether their prey is pirates, mermaids or any creature they consider a threat, you don't want to be hunted by them!

So danny, doing his best to not be caught but still learn what he's capable of, learning how to use his voice to stun and enchant... finally he gets discovered freeing their captives.

He has to flee and flee he does, escaping them and striking out on his own.

(I assume jazz stays in Port and isn't aware of what's currently happened-away at 'college')

-

Sometime in the future though, constantly dodging his parents attempts to track him whenever he comes to a port, Danny happened upon captain leatherwings pirateship.

He follows them as a mermaid, watching them work. Sometimes they attacked a ship and other times they fled, being chased by pirate hunters but never caught! It was fascinating to watch despite the danger of being seen (he's seen).

At night he'd wrap himself around the rudder and hum or quietly sing listening to the ocean, hoping another mermaid would answer his call (he's never met another)

One day as leatherwing's ship, the flying fox. Starts to sail into port, danny hears them say they will put up a request for new crew (some leaving, some died).

Danny slips away ahead of them to shore, stealing some dry clothes (without holes to look presentable) and camps out at the inn by the docks looking for hire.

-

It takes some work but Danny gets hired on, excited to be among people again. He's introduced to the crew and does his best to fit in, it becomes apparent some of the long term crew are more then just crew, they act just like family...

Danny gets close to them, curious about their relationships with each other. One night (I'm picking cass for this but it could be anyone) he finds 'orphan-blackblade' sitting on the stern of the ship.

her feet through the railing on the back trying to hum a strange tune that sounds familiar, another of the crew sees Danny watching and laughs, 'orphan doesn't talk, but she sits on the back of the boat every night listening to the 'music of the sea' (you do the math)

-

-

That would continue building a relationship at a pace but now, we come to the part where danny is revealed.

leatherwing and the flying fox is attacked by the GIW who stumbled on them looking for danny with whatever dark magic's they use to track him. This coincides with a storm approaching and as the battle rages Danny gets pinned under water by debris and is forced to start transforming.

He breaks free and seeing the fight going poorly tries to help using his cry to shock the GIW, it works. This is where things get a little angst as the flying fox crew don't recognise danny as a mermaid...

Danny seeing the mainmast of the GIW ship coming down tackles orphan out of the way but in saving her gets attacked by her and everyone else forcing him to take her hostage to save himself and flee, whisking her away into the dark of the stormy sea.

-

This is where the songs literally came in:

Fish in a birdcage: 'rule #34'

(Awkward timing, forcing me to decide which was the priority: getting my ace asses mind out of the gutter or keeping my car wheels out of the gutter as I did some specific driving on the freeway to avoid some surprise gridlock traffic ahead!)

So play that song and imagine pirate!cass waking up in a cave of an unknown island being stared down at by an angry, shirtless, very familiar looking mermaid who you'd just stabbed...

My brain while trying to drive:

The second song was: fin- ship in a bottle

What comes to mind (as I was now stuck in gridlock) is an angry danny fighting back as leatherwing tries to find his daughter orphan after she was taken by a mermaid that suddenly attacked them during the fight.

He'd interrogated the GIW who invaded his ship, those who hadn't been able to flee in time as he chased after his daughter, they were hunting the mermaid and assumed he was on-board (a thought backed up by nobody knowing where danny had gone-they found his torn off shirt though...).

He tore the knowledge from them on how they tracked the mermaid, learnt the consequences of using the magic, forced them off the ship because they were now 'deadweight', cast the magic and set sail.

And now that he'd found him he was going to get his daughter back... But as said before, dannys angry and they fight...

- that's all I got at the moment.

-

The only other things I have is cass going non verbal in the cave and humming her song which could calm danny down as he recognises it as the song he sung when wrapped around the rudder at nights.

Cass stopping the fight between Danny and Bruce (and her siblings) threatening to beat both their asses

Ellie showing up as a mermaid, trying to find danny, she bumped into jazz and they've been trying to find danny for a while (Danny forgets to check in every now and then)

[dreaminglily125]

Ren Amamiya Headcanons

Before P5R *P4 SPOILERS*

~ Ren had a very rough home life with divorced parents so he was never used to stability.

~ Adachi is Ren's uncle and Ren spent many days at his home when his parents' arguments became more intense.

~ That being said Ren is from Inaba.

~ Ren was an awkward and quiet kid hiding a lot of anger and resentment because of all the cruel things happening around him.

~ Ren played with Nanako sometimes and even met Yu and Yosuke a few times.

~ When Adachi was exposed for the murders, the anger and resentment Ren was feeling had grown even worse, being betrayed by the one person who meant something to him.

~ All this made Ren decide he wanted to be a police officer when he grew up, but that all changed when the events of P5R happened.

During P5R *P5R SPOILERS OBVIOUSLY*

~ After Ren's sentencing, he vowed he would never become a police officer if it meant doing to someone what was done to him.

~ When he awakened Arsene he felt powerful for the first time in his life, hence the manic grin on his face when it happens.

~ Ryuji and Ann were the first friends Ren had ever made and this makes him very protective of them.

~ Ren had started to form a friendship of sorts with Shiho before her attempted s**cide. He hopes he can reconnect with her in the future with Ann's help.

~ After meeting Yusuke, Ren told Ryuji and Ann that he wanted to model for him and they sat there in utter shock while Morgana nearly hacked up a lung laughing.

~ Related to the previous one, after meeting Akechi for the first time Ren told his friends that he thought Akechi was hot and Ryuji told him he had the world's worst taste in men.

~ While he would get over it eventually, Ren was suspicious of Makoto for a couple of months after Kaneshiro's palace considering she blackmailed them into helping her.

~ While Ren didn't think much of Haru during Okumura's palace, but over time Ren grew to see her like a sister and was quite tempted to do something very painful to her fiancé. She was one of his closest friends only topped by Ryuji, Ann, Sumire, and Akechi.

~ Speaking of Akechi, his betrayal cut Ren very deeply because by then he had gained a crush on him and that person who he felt was his other half had planned to kill him all along.

~ Shido's Shadow had been the first time Ren was truly tempted to kill someone.

~ Sumire was someone Ren would consider a friend. but it wasn't until Maruki's reality where he started to become a lot closer to her.

~ Ren was actually neutral about Maruki and his reality. He saw the good it could through his friends as they were living great lives, but he also saw the cruelty in losing one's sense of self and having no say in what their new life would entail. In the end, he chose to fight Maruki out of respect for Akechi's final wish, although Ren was quite tempted by the promise of not losing him.

After P5R

~ After the allegations against Ren were proven false his record was wiped clean so Ren used the insane amount of Mementos money he made to pay for his schooling in university in full (no debt allowed). He uses his flower shop money to pay for his apartment.

~ Ren bought his apartment so he wouldn't have to return home after his probation ended.

~ Ren went to the same university as Makoto and Haru so the three made it a point to meet up for study sessions. He would still video chat with the rest of his friends once a week.

~ During his university days he managed to get in contact with Akechi again and they frequently talk on the phone and Ren would even sneak to Jazz Jin to meet up with him without his friends knowing. That failed later because Futaba hacked Ren's phone again.

~ When Ren graduated university with his psychology degree, he was so impacted by Maruki that he decided to become a therapist so he find a way to help people solve their problems instead of running from them.

~ Ren managed to reconnect with Shiho and they became very close friends. She even taught him how to play volleyball.

[demonic0angel]

Prolonged ecto contamination can cause regenerative abilities. This is great when something important is stabbed or a limb is lost. But for other things, not so much.

“Daddy,” A five year old cried, “somethings wrong with mommy!”

Jason ran to his and his wifes room. He stopped by the door, taking in Jazz's tense still frame perched on the edge of their bed. She gazed at a small cylinder object cluched in her hands.

"Jazz?" Jason called.

She slowly lifted her gaze to him and turned the object around, revealing two pink lines.

"Is-is that an old one?" Jason stammered.

Jazz moved her head to side to side.

"Defective?"

"I've done ten of them, all the same."

But, but that couldn't be. Jason mentally floundered. After a failed vasectomy resulting in kid numer six and then a failed tube tying causeing baby number seven, Jazz had a hysterectomy.

Jason opened his mouth to address this but then remembered that their kids were in the room. It wouldn't be good for kids to witness their parents having a meltdown over a positive pregnancy test. Or discuss a possible lawsuit against a certain hospital and surgeon.

Switching gears, Jason called to his kids, "Come on tribe! To the living room for a movie."

"What about Mommy?" the five year old protested.

"Don't worry," Jason scooped up his kid and pecked her forehead. "Your dad got this," he said with way more confidence than he felt.

(OML I LITERALKY FUCKING ROLLED WHEN I SAW THIS ASK ASDFGHHKLLL THIS IS SO FUNNY BC IN MY ORIGINAL IDEAS ABIUT ANGER MANAGEMENT, THEY HAVE 5 KIDS)

Jazz stared at him blankly. Jason stared back. They both stared at each other. Then he admitted, “I don’t think I got this.”

Thank goodness their oldest, Elinor, was able to understand and distract all of her siblings. Now it was just Jason, Jazz, and their Ancient ghost dog alone to discuss what to do next.

Jazz continued staring at him, holding Shadow in her arms before she said, “Y’know, we could….”

“Don’t even start,” he said in exasperation. While he would always give her the choice, he knew that none of them would actually genuinely consider it.

She sighed. “I know. I want it anyways. It’s mine. It’s our baby.”

Her possessiveness was so cute. Jason reached over to hug her, squeezing her gently and placing his chin on her head. It was a bit difficult due to her height, but she hunched over to tuck herself into his arms, so it was a little easier.

“We’ll handle it. Together, like always. It’s not like we’re lacking in money anyways. And we have plenty of rooms and we can get help from our support groups. I can take another break from being Red Hood and you’ve never stopped your online therapy sessions, so I think we can do this.”

Jazz sighed, nodding before she suddenly groaned aloud and used a fist to hit Jason’s chest. Jason blinked. “What?”

“You know what my siblings call me?! They call Miss Weasley! At this rate, we’ll have a football team by the time we’re done!”

Jason tried not to laugh but a twitch must’ve alerted Jazz to his amusement because she looked up at him and glared. Shadow growled lightly on her lap. She scolded, “You’re giving the news to our families again. And I won’t stop Dan from trying to kill you this time.”

“Even if it makes you a single mother to 7 kids?” Jason asked idly.

Jazz paused and then she cursed softly. Jason snorted into her shoulder before Jazz then said, “I think after this, we’re using condoms again.”

Horrified, Jason lifted his head up and stared at her in disbelief and shocked horror. “What!”

“Jason! We have 7 kids now! Can I please get a break!”

Jason groaned, long and loud. Then he sighed, rubbing Jazz’s sides in faux sadness as he bemoaned, “Fine… since I love you so much… I’ll wear protection next time…”

Jazz pinched his cheek with a little narrowed eye stare and smile, shaking lightly but she said, “Thank you, dearest. We’ll handle this together, alright? It won’t be easy, but we’ve done this six times before, we can do this a seventh time. I think I should ask Dan how he does it…” she mumbled more plans to herself, as Jason just held her, closing his eyes.

If his past self was ever told that he’d have a wife and seven kids, he was sure that he’d probably snitch to the cops that someone was hallucinating.

Not that he’d ever trade this for the world, of course.

[lririx]

so, hypothetically, demi with a lady dimitrescu like hunter partner? i love both these women and i think the worlds should collide, my sapphic ass is hella WEAK for them

I love Demi so much I can't😭 My lesbian loving heart can't handle a ship like this it's so cute😭I hope you enjoy it!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

•Low and behold a new hunter has come to the Manor with no sign of wanting to show any mercy towards anyone.

•A terrifying yet beautiful woman who is about 10 foot tall. No one knows her story. All they know is that if they end up in a match with her they're done for.

•Due to her condition she needs blood to stay alive and somehow the Manor provides the blood needed.

•She was a Nobel before she came to the Manor so she's used to ordering people around. She sees herself above all the other hunters but devotes herself to Miss. Nightingale.

•She obeys her every word and does nothing that might anger her. The hunters in the Manor were intimidated by her. Her demeanour was what caused it. No one thought she'd open up to anyone.

•So how in the world did this happen? Is she plotting something? Why is she dating a survivor? And that survivors is Demi?

•No one knows how this relationship came to be. Even Miss. Nightingale is confused about it. The hunter who showed no mercy even to the hunters is in love?

•Demi and The lady are quite different. Demi is a sweet ball of sunshine who wants to help everyone and bring joy to the Manor while the hunter wants to go on a murder spree.

•Well, their hobbies might have made them get closer. Both of them love to drink and listen to jazz all day. They adore dancing too.

•Sometimes music can be heard in one of the rooms and when people go and check on it they see two drunk love birds happily dancing to the song.

•The lady protects Demi all the time. She’s not overprotective, but deals with the trouble if Demi’s not capable of doing it.

•She never hits Demi during matches. Not even in a playful way. While she’s obliterating the survivors, Demi just stands there drinking and lovingly looking at her lover.

•If Demi asks The lady to not hurt anyone during the match, she will obey her instantly. Everyone sighs of relief whenever she does this.

•She can turn into a dragon like monster aswell and let's Demi get on top of her and she just flies away.

•Demi is around 5’6 and the lady is like 10 foot so the height differences is quite something. The lady has to kneel for Demi to be able to kiss her. Demi sometimes gets a chair or a stool or ever gets on the table to kiss her.

•Demi is a switch but The lady is a dom. Though she will be a bottom from time to time to make Demi happy.

•Sex with The lady is quite an experience. BDSM is something that will constantly happen during it. Good thing Demi enjoys it.

•Drinks and alcohol are always on the bedside table next to candles and incenses.

•Remember how I said the lady needs blood? Well yeah she bites Demi's neck and drinks it during sex and makeouts.

•Both of them will have visible bite marks and hickies the next day.

•And on a daily basis she takes Demi’s hand and drinks her blood.

•They call eachother mommy on the bed.

•If she’s talking to Demi and someone interrupts her she’ll bite their head off.

•Pet names. They will constantly use Pet names on eachother like “Sweetheart” “Dear” “Love”.

•They love showering together. They go in the bath and brush eachothers hair while kissing eqchothers neck. It gets steamy sometimes.

•Both of them wear red lipstick and they kiss eachother on the lips, cheeks and neck before a match and neither of them wipes it off.

•They wander around the Manor together while laughing and drinking. They just look like the sweetest couple during those times.

[logan-fields-official]

A sbg x gn reader who is like emu otori from wonderlandxshowtime and she is the captain of the dance team + and has the fighting technique of mizuki just search up "mizuki wrestler" on tiktok.

SBG x Reader

Don’t know what I’m gonna name this yet and will probably come back to add more.

The dance studio was filled with an energetic feel as Y/N, the captain of the dance team, led their group through their rehearsals. To say Y/N was an enthusiastic person was an understatement. It was like they had sun in their pocket. their cheerful and energetic demeanor often lighting up the dance teams spirits though it also sometimes drains them out. “Okay, everyone! Let’s take it from the top! I want to see those jazz hands sparkle!” Y/N exclaimed, clapping their hands together, earning a few giggles from the team. Logan, with his anxious demeanor, adjusted his glasses nervously, wincing slightly. “Uh, Y/N, maybe you shouldn’t not do the jazz hands this time? I think it’s a bit odd of a time for that.” he suggested, tugging at the hem of his sweater, his voice barely above a whisper. Y/N gasps dramatically and snaps their head towards Logan “Nonsense, Logan! Jazz hands make everything better. Right, Aiden?” Y/N stated, turning to Aiden. Aiden grinned and glanced up at Y/N nodding his head. “Oh absolutely! There’s nothing good jazz hand can’t fix. Besides, Logan, if they somehow screw up jazz hands then it’s just some more entertainment for us.” he chuckled, ignoring Logan's nervous side-eye. Ashlyn, sitting on the edge of the half wall, rolled her eyes though a slight smirk found it’s way onto her usual cold expression. “Yeah, yeah, as long as you don’t make me join in, I’ll stay” she said, and Tyler, leaning against the wall next to Ashlyn spoke up with an amused expression. “Don’t worry, Logan. Y/N’s probably just gonna end up adding something crazy if they gets rid of the jazz hands they’re just full of wild ideas, it’s mostly harmless.” Once practice was done, Y/N suggested an ice cream run. “I’m in the mood for something sweet, YALL wanna come get ice cream with me?” Y/N questioned, eyes sparkling with excitement. A cheer of enthusiastic agreement erupted, except from Ben, who sat quietly at the mini fringe, scribbling in his journal to stay detached from the dance team’s chaos. Y/N glanced at Ben and eagerly spoke up “Ben! You should join us! It’ll be fun I promise” Y/N claimed, their cheerful tone coaxing a slight smile from him as he nodded slightly. As the group was leaving the studio, laughter filled the air, but their playful evening took a sudden turn. Just as they had reached the parking lot, an argument broke out nearby. A couple of men were arguing loudly, and before the group could decide if they want to ignore it or intervene, it escalated. One of the men who appeared quite anger reached for something at his waistband, and all of a sudden Y/N’s instinct kicked in. “Guys back up!” Y/N shouted. Leaping forward ready to protect the group, their Brazilian Jiu-Jitsu training kicking in, Y/N quickly moved to intervene, placing themselves between the escalating fight and their friends. “Hey! What the fuck are you doing! Do you wanna go to jail?” they shouted, heart racing but their voice steady. Logan looked on in worry, clutching Ashlyn's arm, while Ashlyn’s usual cold demeanor fell away, revealing a hint of concern. Tyler’s usual harsh mood melted into protectiveness as he quickly made his way over to grab Y/N. “What the hell are you doing? Are you trying to get yourself killed!” he scolded, while Ashlyn caught up, not far behind also ready to help if need be. Watching in shock and amusement, Aiden stared intensely, while Ben stopped scribbling in his journal, ready to help dissipate the nervous energy radiating from him. The group was tense, but Y/N remained determined, channeling their training. 'Its okay guys, I know how to handle this,' they claimed, confidence filling their tone. A delicate dance between bravery and rashness, Y/N stood firm, ready to protect their friends at all costs.

[mint-yooxgi]

Of course you can write what ever you want, it is your space after all. I didn't what to make you upset.

It's a bit scary to tell you an opinion you might disagree with because you always answer so aggressive.

I apologize if my response was aggressive. I'm simply getting tired of people saying the same things over and over again when I've stated many times I'm not giving up or abandoning my other fics. It gets tiring to repeat myself so many time, but I understand the frustration from a reader's point of view, too.

This response ended up getting super long, so I'm gonna put it under a read more for those that would like to read it. It's sort of a life update of what's been going on with me lately, along with some explanations and more apologies.

TW: Mental Health, Mention of a death in the family, Depression, and all that jazz

I do want to update my current series, I just find I have no motivation to work on any of them currently. I have most, if not all of them planned out, I just need to take time to finish writing them. They're eventually get done, but a lot happened last year and it took a lot out of me. Between working on the commission, dealing with personal issues and my own mental health, along with timing not always working out, it's been a wild ride.

It's no excuse, but I do also feel guilty about not updating certain series for so long. I think that's where some of my annoyance and anger comes from. I'm also upset at myself, and I end up taking it out on anons and others who come into my ask box asking about my current series. For that, I do apologize.

One of the reasons I started writing this self-indulgent fic for myself near the end of last year was because of everything that had been going on in my personal life. I had a huge falling out with someone I considered a very close friend only to realize they hadn't been treating me as a friend for months. My mental health was already fried, and that just sent me spiralling. It's one of the factors that sent me to the hospital, if anyone remembers that.

Because of that incident, it sort of put a damper on Ateez for me for a little while. Simply looking at their content made me associate them with that 'friend', and I very honestly almost fell out with the group. It took some time, but I decided I wasn't going to let this person ruin something I care for so deeply. That's also why I started writing the fic. Just like with Hotel California, it's what I needed at the time, and I'm still having a blast writing it now.

I can honestly trace back to when I sort of stopped updating my series, and it was definitely around the time I posted chapter 15 of PG. Shortly before that is also when I agreed to write my commission, as well as when I had first started talking to this 'friend'. Most of my time was spent talking with them, so my writing got sidelined. That, and the added stress from not knowing everything about what the commissioner wanted from me for the commission took its toll.

Then, at the end of November 2023, my Baba passed away. She was my last remaining grandparent, and even though we were expecting it and I wasn't all that close with her, it still affects me, even if it's only subconsciously.

I'm also pretty sure I went through a round of burn out, which also took the fun out of writing for me. This ties in with my mental health and all that. The fics I was posting were short, and honestly, all I could really manage at the time. Which is why I was really excited for Kinktober, since that's what really kicked off my enthusiasm for writing HC/PG the first time. I was hoping it would have the same effect, but it didn't.

Granted, there were a shit ton of other factors contributing to that, but I digress.

Last year was not a good year for me, looking at the grand scheme of things. Yes, there were good moments, but a lot happened. There's other stuff to do with family, too, and I had to take care of a lot more things than I'm used to while my mental health had been declining. I'm still not exactly where I want to be, but being on anti-depressants have really helped.

For now, I'm simply trying to focus on things I want to write, and have motivation/excitement for. That, and I'm focussing more on the commission, too. It's been a slow journey, but I have a better idea of where I'm going now.

Plus, with the severe lack of interaction on fics in general, it just doesn't make me as excited to post something nowadays. People barely reblog, let alone comment. Even when I posted chapter 15 of PG, I had to ask how people liked it before I started getting responses.

It's really discouraging as a writer to have people constantly demanding you for more updates when so many don't even interact when you post something.

Anyways, this got long.

TLDR; I'm sorry for coming across aggressive. A lot has gone on over the past year, but I promise I'm working on things. It's just a lot to deal with, and I shouldn't be taking it out on you guys. I do sincerely apologize for that.

PS: If you go out with a friend, and the way they're acting/you believe they're treating you makes you upset, tell them. Don't put your grievances in a public fic skewing the reality of events to make them look like a heartless bitch. Especially if you've said nothing to said friend before they stumble across the fic on their feed. People aren't mind readers. If you don't tell them how you're feeling, they won't know.

[gds-daisy]

heyy, this is for the matchmaking event! thank you so much for doing this for all of us, it’s so appreciated 💋

1&2.  My name is Abbi 💘, I go by she/ her pronouns and I present myself as VERY feminine!

 3. My personality id say is very fun, I love to laugh with people and make people smile. However, I’m a little more introverted around those I don’t know fully or aren’t common with. Honestly, my humour is broken at this point. I find most things humorous, in general I’m lighthearted like that. To be honest, my coping skills are really just crying things out. I struggle to fully express sadness and anger etc so mainly I cope with it alone, bottling it up (I know it’s not good). I’ve also got OCD which controls a lot of my life, the themes of it probably add to my personality. My MBTI is ENFJ 😌

4. My hobbies are creative things, I love to paint watercolours and big scale paintings that take me weeks to do. I play a lot of stardew valley, grounded. Cute indie games like that. I also love plants and I grow vegetables and fruits! I’ve got a knack for self care things like doing my own nails, eyelashes, eyebrows things like that! (They save me money haha). I love to read tumblr posts, obviously!! I also LOVE to sing!

5. My biggest pet peeve have got to be people eating with their mouths open and bad teeth! I can’t stand bad oral hygiene. I also really hate it when people try to tell me how to deal with MY OWN OCD. 

6. My ideal partner would be someone who’s wants me FOR me. They aren’t bothered about my flaws and love me unconditionally. Someone who can balance sexuality in the relationship. Having my best friend as my partner would be very important to me too. My ideal date would be something simple, spending time with them and just enjoying eachother’s company. Something like a picnic date with our favourite foods in a secluded area. 

7. My love language is for sure catering for people and physical touch! I loveeee hosting dinner parties for my friends, feeding them good food and hosting little parties and gatherings. I express love through birthday cards, Xmas cards and other little things like that. Physical touch is another love language, for me it’s a way to feel connected to those I love. I love hugs! 

8. My clothing style is definitely very feminine and sleek; black skirts, tights, nice flowery tops and dresses. I love simple long, flowy dresses. I love curled hair, my natural hair is wavy! Pretty simple colours, not too many bright colours. If I do wear colours, they’re quite muted tones. 

9. Hmm, well, I really love cats! (we can all tell why I said this). But seriously, I have a beautiful white cat who is my best friend, she’s called snow! I’m very interested in witchcraft, I’m a red witch to be specific. I’m also very interested in astrology and reading birth charts, that’s something I do for my closest friends and family. Very in touch with my own self love and worth, doing little things for myself etc. ‘My body is a temple 🤲’ I’m a big music lover, my favourite genres and bands differ a lot though. Recently I’m more into the soft, modern jazz kind of stuff; Raye, Joy crooks, Jorja Smith. 

10. I’d love both headcanons, very much into NSFW content 😌. I’d say I’m more of a switch when it comes to the bedroom, it depends on my mood and emotions etc. Reading sub!jiyong posts turns me the FUCK on. I really like body worship, praising and the thought of my partner trying to please me. But I also enjoy the thought of being put in my place and overpowered. Reoccurring switch.. DRY HUMPING. Both ways, receiving and giving, dry humping is so fucking HOT. In a begging, teasing way. 

for abbi

i match you with…

kwon jiyong

the first thing jiyong noticed about you was how you always lit up a room with your personality!

he loves the fact he can let loose around you and crack the most stupid jokes! not many people truly understand his humor the way you do, so it feels good to have someone match his joking nature!

when you play your favorite video games, he’ll get so intrigued by the aesthetics they have to offer and will practically linger around you until you’re finished

the two of you even play together after he finally asks if he could join in on the fun with you!

he loves how expressive your watercolor paintings are even if he doesn’t understand the concept of it at first

if the two of you go on a serene picnic date, you make sure to prepare food that is sourced from the plants in your little garden of yours.

“oh my god this is so good! did you seriously make this all by yourself, jagi?” jiyong says after swallowing every tiny bit of food you made for the two of you!

self care nights are sacred for the both of you! he knows how you always paint your nails and will practically BEG you to get matching nails!

when you guys celebrated your first holiday together, he was shocked with how you went all out for his card

when you first mentioned that you were into astrology and birth charts, he was so eager and wanted to learn more about it

jiyong is aware of your ocd and will go above and beyond to make it more bearable for you to deal with. something is too messy for your liking to the point you can’t handle it? he’ll make sure to clean it up just for you.

if you have compulsory patterns, he won’t pay it any mind and will let you finish the ritual that way you’re more at ease

he is the biggest sucker for physical touch and so are you! the two of you live for simple acts of pda such as holding hands and wrapping each others arms around the others waist.

jiyong knows you have a tendency to bottle your emotions up which definitely makes him worried at times but he will always be there for you when you need him <3

nsfw!

this man is a switch for you through and through!

jiyong worships the shit out of you whether he’s on his knees or fucking you with everything he’s got

he can’t help but become a desperate mess for you even when he’s supposed to be the one in charge! he loves every part of you and will go to great lengths to show you just how much he does!

he knows how much you love dry humping (so does he) and uses it to his advantage whenever he’s in charge

jiyong loves seeing you fall apart when you fuck yourself against his thigh, already begging him to let you cum.

dare i say the two of you will dry hump at that innocent little picnic of yours that i mentioned earlier

if you are needy for him, he’ll let you use him in any way you want until you’re fully satisfied

if you act out, he is one to correct your behavior on the spot even if he has to become a brat tamer

there will be times where he’s had enough of you and will pin your arms over your head as he fucks you since he’s so strong

but oh how the tables turn when you’re the dominant one! he will go from being the cockiest man to a blabbering mess especially if you tease him.

he’ll be whimpering for you to give him more because he’s so sensitive :(((

you of course give him what he wants because of those sad pleading eyes he flashed you (his best charm)

aftercare is the very best with him! depending on who’s the dominant one in the scenario, one of you will take care of the other whether it’s through words of affirmation or good old cuddles :)