#misunderstanding tw

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

Family Wrath

( Implied SA, not actually SA, POV outsider misunderstandings )

Okay I want all the misunderstandings!

Misunderstandings galore my beloved!

Anyway!

For this intrusive thought that decided to hit me as I was minding my own business-

Danny is the baby that Stephanie gave into adoption when she was young.

Obvi trans Danny,

So after Stephanie realizes just who Danny is she investigates (You can't escape the Bat paranoia training)

But here are the misunderstandings: Ellie and Dante (de-aged)

" Oh my God guys I'm a grandmother! "

But wait there's more!

Danny is how old?! With kids, that are very much not newborns?

" So who's the other parent? "

" Oh some fruit-loop named Vlad, he was obsessed with my mom when they went to college together but she wasn't interested at all & now he's obsessed with me. He really wanted the 'perfect' son but I told him to fuck off not that he cared about what I wanted. So yeah, sorry for rambling-are you okay you look a little pale, is the heat bothering you? "

Danny forgets that peoples first thoughts aren't " Oh yea clone! " Or timeline shenanigans

So what these concerned people heard was " Yea this adult man wanted my mom and when he saw that that wasn't an option he targeted me as a child "

Dante & Ellie are just enjoying the show intentionally creating more misunderstandings and havoc, they hope someone will finally go beat Vlad since they're now too small to beat him.

~

Dante: " Pappa practically died when I was born. "

Ellie: "Yea I almost killed him too! "

They're technically not lying just using what actually happened in a different context

~

Alfred after hearing what's going on grabbing his shotgun: " I still have good aim."

~

Jason/Stephanie: " A little murder is fine, as a treat "

~

Just more and more misunderstandings happening around Danny with him being none the wiser.

~

Feel free to add to my nonsense, I love it, it's fun to read what people come up with

~

Just an (Intrusive) Idea

[dcxdpdabbles]

There are so many fics out there where Danny is either adopted by or the biological son of Bruce. In many of these he might have an existential crisis but other wise he is fine and happy to be part of the BatFam. Where are the ones where he fights against this just doesn't want to connect with Bruce of the rest of the family.

One: Bruce is a billionaire and Danny has had some bad experience with Vlad trying to adopt/get him as a son. So even if Bruce is one of "the good ones" Danny does't like billionaires.

Two: Danny for the most part grew up in a mostly normal family and home, with two Parents and a sibling. Most of the BatFam were only children and parents are dead or came from dysfunctional homes. I think Duke is the only one who really had a normal childhood.

Three: The Fenton family is pretty openly affectionate with each other and are pretty normal emotionally. Danny has a great relationship with all of them (Danny went evil in the timeline where they all died). Most of the Batfam is emotionally constipated.

Four: Danny is used to his boundaries being respected. I don't think that the Batfam is great at that. With Bruce needing to know everything, Tim's stalking tendencies, Barbra's hacking, just to name the obvious.

Danny knew that he was adopted into the Fentons. His parents had never hidden it from him, but they never treated him as anything besides their child.

He had come into their lives one day when one of Maddie's old high school friends had called, bawling that she had gotten pregnant and that her husband wasn't the father. He had discovered the truth and thrown her out, leaving her pregnant and alone on the streets of Gotham.

Maddie had been furious at the affair- she hated disloyalty- but had decided to help her only for the baby's sake.

She had driven over multiple state lines back to her home city to pick up the friend only to find out she had taken her life and left her newborn son to Maddie. While Maddie had been able to escape the hellhole that was Gotham, Rebecca never got the chance, not with her average intelligence.

In high school, the two were as close as sisters until Rebecca fell into the whisky bottles her father carelessly left around. She blossomed into a beautiful woman upon their graduation- more so than Maddie-, turning from a sweet homebody into someone who got into exclusive parties and powerful men.

Maddie had slowly drifted away from her, so far away at college, and Rebecca fell further and further into the party scene. It was a surprise that she settled down for marriage and Maddie truly believed that she had been happy with her husband.

That's why Danny was such a surprise. Maddie did not know who Danny's biological father was, but she did not care. Not after they placed the sobbing infant into her arms, and she realized that she was his mother now.

She immediately phoned Jack to tell him what had happened, and he told Jazz she was a big sister before the call ended. They told him the story about when he started to learn his colors. Not with her taking her life, of course; that was when Danny turned fourteen. This was only a few days before Danny revealed he was Phantom to them.

They were first shocked, but then they became supportive. Phantom now had two proud ghost hunters following him, shooting photos instead of guns.

It was embarrassing, but it was also nice of them.

And that was that. Danny is a Fenton, adopted, but a child of Maddie and Jack Fenton all the same.

He never gave his biological parents a thought. In fact, he all but forgot about them until Sam convinced him to take an ancestry test. He had allowed her to swipe his mouth, package his DNA, and send it off to see where his people came from, completely forgetting that he would not match with Jazz, who had done the same thing a month prior.

His results were shocking, to say the least.

Somehow, someway, Rebecca Silver had been in the system of DNA samples, and they had matched him to her alongside his biological father.

Bruce Wayne. Rebecca had an affair with Bruce Wayne, arguably one of the wealthiest men in the country, and they had sent him a message to let him know he matched with his son.

An eccentric billionaire has just been told that Danny was his. He knew that song and dance well, and it was never fun to dance to. Danny could only stare at the results with dread as Sam apologized profoundly.

"Maybe he won't see it." Tucker tried. "I mean, Wayne is probably so busy with rich people stuff he doesn't have time to even look at his emails. Especially ones that will come in spam since it's comersolized."

"Yeah, Maybe" Danny doesn't think he's that lucky.

A month later, the Fenton's home phone rings. His parents are working on a new invention on the dinning room table, Danny is stretched out in front of the TV watching a mindless cartoon and Jazz is crocheting in the love chair.

It's a typical Tuesday night where everyone is doing their own thing but close enough to each other that they can call it family time. Jazz is the closest to the house phone so she picks it up with a cheerful "Fenton house, this is Jasmine."

Her smile slowly slips away as all the blood drains from her face. Alarmed by her reaction, Danny sits up. "Jazz? What's wrong?"

His words have his parents' heads snapping up, zoning in on their daughter's rapidly growing destress. Yes, they get distracted often with their work, but the Fentons have always been loving parents.

They quickly spring into action.

"Jazzy-pants?" His dad says, walking up to her and taking the phone from her slack hand. He covers the speaking end of it, not paying attention to the call as his mom hugs his sister. "What's the matter?"

"It's... Bruce Wayne's lawyer," Jazz says faintly. "He's calling about Danny. He said that Mr. Wayne has been attempting to take Danny back and that they are going to take us to court soon."

The room goes dead quiet, and Danny snorts. "He can't do that without a letter or something. Come on Jazz, it's obviously a prank."

Someone at school likely found out and thought it would be funny to make "the biggest loser of Casper High" Danny Fenton, think a billionaire wanted him as a son. Honestly, he wouldn't put it past the A-listers.

He laughs to show how stupid this prank is, but neither of his parents joins him. Instead, his mother closes her eyes and whispers, "We received his court papers weeks ago. We've been trying to get a lawyer."

What.

She pushes Jazz into his dad's arms, where his sister is slowly panicking. His dad tries to soothe her as his mom opens the drawer under the TV, pulling out three orange envelopes. She looks remorseful as she hands them to Danny. "We didn't want you to worry. I'm sorry we didn't tell you sooner. Vlad said he would help, but he wasn't sure what he could do against such a powerful man"

And there, in overly complicated terms, is clear as day. Bruce Wayne wanted full custody of Danny Fenton and was willing to take the Fentons to court to get it done.

The man- who has never so much as met Danny, much less have a right to say what happens to him- was accusing his parents of child abuse and child neglect! He not only was trying to take Danny away but Jazz as well!

Where did this man get the audacity!?

"I don't want to go with him!" He shouts rage, making his eyes glow green. "I don't even know him!"

"I know, sweetie. I won't let him take you" His mom says, yanking him into a protective hug, and he realizes that her shirt is getting wet with his tears. Tears that fall just like the woman who raised him. "Everything will be alright."

It won't be, he knows, but he won't tell her that. He just lets his mother hold him, and when his sister and father crash into the hug a second later, he holds them just as tight.

He's not sure how they will win against Bruce Wayne, but Danny will fight his biological father every step of the way. He will not be his son.

______________________________________________________________

Bruce stares at the photo of Danny Fenton- his son. His boy, whom he wasn't aware was alive until a month ago- and the reports from concerned teachers and whatever information Barbra could pull from his classmate's social media.

Dramatically dropping grades.

Clear signs of sleepless nights.

Flinches whenever his parents pull out "ghost hunting" gear.

Strange bruises and cuts along his arms and legs.

His small stature is no longer growing properly like his peers.

It all pointed to one thing. The Fentons were abusing his son and Bruce would bet the sister was suffering from the same treatment if her own grade dropping, sleepless eyes, and desperate race to adulthood were any indication.

Bruce laces his hands, resting his chin on them as the Batcomputer slowly flips through various reports being quickly dismissed by incompetent social workers who all claim it was Ghost Hunter related and not a cause for concern.

Those same social workers all seemed to have gotten quite generous donations from one Vlad Masters, a well-known family friend of the Fentons.

He hates corruption that allows children to be hurt, more so when it;'s his own children.

"When do we go retrieve Brother?" Damian asks, green eyes narrowing in rage as the reports scroll slowly. Ever since he found out Danny is a blood sibling, all Damian has been talking about is getting his elder brother home. "I am displeased with how long it's been, Father."

"Soon," Bruce promises, aware the rest of his children gather around him. They don't speak, but he feels their protective rage at what Danny has gone through, and he knows they will use every last bit of their training to get Danny home. "Either through the courts or in person. Danny will be with us come summer."

"Good," grunts Jason. "I'll have a little chat with his adoptive scumbags when we get him."

"I'll help," Dick tacks on.

"I'll make it look like an accident," Tim says, voice leveled but eyes blazing as the reports get to the neglect section. He has personal issues about that.

Bruce has never been so proud. "Court date is set for three weeks. They can't weasel their way out of it this time."

Don't worry son, he thinks to Danny, I'm going to save you.

[simplyreveries]

Diasomnia boys with a reader that's really prone to panic attacks, but hides it really well?

Like, sometimes they get really jittery and stuff, but that's just them being them! It gets better, usually. If not, they go to the bathroom chill, even when they're literally going to die inside.

And they kinda knew cause they went on a boat date, then they just kinda started saying they were uncomfortable and stuff and they ended up having a huge panic attack, like how would they react?

malleus draconia

he is very observant, especially over someone like you. it's his own way of showing care and affection if anything. malleus usually seems to have a watchful eye over you-- your wellbeing is something he finds really important to him. he can quite easily tell how nervous and how much anxiety building up in you. with that being, however, he is a bit... awkward showing how much he does want to help you. he doesn't understand that part well. now, he doesn't express it, but it does he feels a strange and foreign sense of powerlessness because he wants to be able to magically take it all away.

malleus is incredibly gentle; he does go out of his way to still try even though he can't fully solve it for you. when he notices the jitteriness or even as soon as you seem to be unable to focus, if you're alright with the touch- he'll carefully slip his hand to hold yours and trace his thumb over the top of your hand. he will give you reassuring affirmations or looks. though, he tends to just slip you away from whatever you're around and give you the best sense of peace he can.

with that being said, that's what he prompts to- he knows you seemed to feel somewhat better during your times with him outside ramshackle at night, where you may find comfort just trying to ease your breathing outside. he'll be there, quiet but someone for you if you wish to speak. and once again, because this is still new for him- whatever you want practically goes because he just ultimately wants you to feel better. so even if that's space, stay in silence, or talk about something else to get your mind off it. he will gladly give any of it.

lilia vanrouge

lilia already has this caring and doting nature around him- and that always applies to you. he can sense what you're feeling from a mile away. he knows you so well already and only wants nothing more than to help you. lilia genuinely wants to be someone you can lean and rely on. despite the trouble or teasing to others he can bring- he is very careful around you. especially during the aftermath of any of them, he is ready to be there.

he is always seeming to check on you. when you seem to be bouncing your leg, fidgeting, biting your lip or nails- very quick to notice- he'll calmy hush a "do you want my help, dearest?" something of that sorts and give a reassuring smile. he never wants you to feel bad for it and make it any kind. he also wants the approval from you if you want or need him around to ease yourself.

when you've dealt with one, carefully, he'll try to ease and calm you down after the adrenaline high you were just experiencing. he'll always seem to have a caring smile on his face when he asks if you''ll let him hold you for a moment. i have a feeling his hugs, with the addition of soft humming or strokes are the epitome of safe.

silver

at first, he was new to handling these kinds of things- he felt completely unsure how to help when all he wanted to do was do just that. much like malleus, but honestly, probably even more so- his quiet nature can most likely prove to be some help when it comes to your panic nature. anything he says or does, even if he is a bit internally worried about how to handle it himself, is so gentle and soothing. it hurts him seeing how much you have to deal with- so he'll do everything and anything he can for you. in moments especially where you're talking to others and feeling anxious, he'll take over for you.

silver is protective by default; it only heightens around you. he wants nothing more than for you to be and feel safe. he is knight, he really couldn't push that part away from him if he tries. in the midst of the moment his focus is solely onto you. if you'd allow him, he hold your hands and let you squeeze them as tight as you want, trying to help guide you through it the best way he can. even if it's difficult and you feel like a mess, he is right there with a worried look and this aching desire to fix it for you.

after it slowly wears of, he might recommend and try coaxing you to fall asleep. he doesn't leave your side if your comfortable enough to allow yourself to. he'll lightly trace your arm and try to have you match your breathing with his.

sebek zigvolt

sebek would probably have the most confused time trying to help you- not in a bad way- like anyone else he wants to help you, but he has zero clue how to even begin the first few times. he gets so concerned and when he gets worried it comes out as loud unintentionally. or maybe even aggressive to others in a sense of thinking someone was bothering you. and clearly that's the last thing you would need, so he tries his best to be more cautious of himself for you. there are times where he's been kneeled in front of you sitting looking up to you with a "tell me what i can do for you" attitude. he gets so serious,,,

like silver, he's a knight and wants you with a sense of security- he doesn't want to feel like he failed you on that. he would go out of his way after he starts to slowly understand them- to spend his spare time reading about it and even go to lilia for help on comfort. so, at times like this during an instance on a date he would be ready all the more.

him trying to help you does feel rather by-the-book scientific ways of helping you get through it. but he genuinely tries and is solemn about it. he does stumble a bit nervously sometimes, because he still can't quite think straight when you're experiencing anything sorts of bad. but sebek does his absolute best.

[s0fter-sin]

ghost fucking soap so hard and so good he passes out but he utterly panics about it

he thinks he must’ve ignored soap asking to stop; was it pain that made him pass out? how bad could it have been to make him pass out when he’s been shot and kept going? should he bring him to medical? he’ll never touch him again, he’ll never so much as look at him again; he’ll ask for a transfer- fuck that, a dishonourable discharge. there’s no coming back from this

he spirals, guilt chasing hatred chasing despair chasing fear, until soap finally wakes back up

soap's still floating, loose-limbed and buzzing; fucked so thoroughly out of his head that it takes him a while to notice ghost isn't in bed with him anymore. he frowns, lifting a heavy head off the pillow and freezes. ghost's on the other side of the room, curled up tight in the corner as far away from soap as he could get without leaving him alone

(he would've left, would've made sure soap never had to see his face again and be reminded of what he did to him, of the monster he’d let into his bed- but he couldn't just leave him unconscious; what if he didn't wake up, he had to make sure he was safe first even if he'll rightfully hate him forever when he does wake up)

soap's voice when he calls out to him makes him flinch, his head burying deeper in his knees. cold worry chases the bliss from his blood and soap pushes himself up but his shaking arms can't hold his weight

the sound of him collapsing back onto the bed makes ghost rear up, his panic growing and soap's heart breaks at his red rimmed eyes

it takes a long time for soap to coax him back to the bed, countless loops of, "sweetheart, please, come here, what happened? it's okay, everything’s going to be okay.”

(and how ghost’s self-hatred grows hearing soap comforting him; hearing the concern and love in his voice when he doesn’t deserve a drop of it)

it takes even longer for ghost to believe soap when he says that he passed out because he felt so good; that he never asked ghost to stop, never wanted him to stop. that he trusts him more than anything and knows he'd rather die than ever hurt him, especially like that

“you’re not a monster, love,” he promises, soft with conviction and it’s as much a surrender as a relief when he collapses into his lap and lets him hold him close

ghost believes johnny but he still can't bring himself to be intimate with him for a while; that fear still haunting him, but soap doesn't hold it against him, doesn't complain about ghost's perceived "step back" in their relationship

hell, ghost seems to hate it more than he does; he misses being with soap, misses the connection, the closeness they shared, the safety and quiet he found in his embrace, but he's always trusted soap more than he trusts himself

soap doesn't let him be consumed by his fear or worse, sabotage them and turn it into a punishment; doesn't let him even get through the suggestion of switching because he knows how much he hates it and he won’t let him twist something as good and pure as their physical love into something self-harming

instead, he brings them back to the basics, working through the steps to get ghost comfortable with intimacy again, to get him to trust himself again; spends happy months just grinding and exchanging handjobs like when their relationship first started

and it's a happy day for them both when soap finally falls apart on his cock once again, anxiety the farthest thing from ghost's mind when his arms are wrapped so tightly around him, kissing a smile against his lips

[threepandas]

Bad End: Nobody's Here

You ever have an imaginary friend? How about someone else's?

Every kid gets 'um. They're hardly strange or new. But the thing is? You're supposed to grow OUT of them. As you develop real connections to actual entities. It's dangerous not too. Yeah, it still happens, but any instructor worth their salt is trained to catch it. See the symptoms and signs.

Cause, see, when you have MAGIC?

Imaginary friends?

Becomes a parasite.

They don't MEAN too, obviously. Usually. They just want to LOVE their friends. Stay with them. Exsist. And really, who would WANT to die? WANT to stop existing? The problem, though, is the kids themselves. Their untrained, unintentional, focus and feeding. Their giving an IDEA? Life.

It's not malicious. They just PRETEND. Play. Focus all their little hearts on this TOTALLY REAL friend of theirs. And their magic? Metaphorically shrugs, agrees to go along with it, and tries to make it SO. Make that concept, that illusion, a real sentient being. Who, of course , is their friend.

Their BEST friend. Family! Someone who will NEVER leave them. Always prioritize THEM. Enable THEM.

Not healthy in the slightest, to put it mildly. A child's CONCEPT of what they THINK they want. That quickly becomes far, far too much to handle. That does not GROW with them. No. It drains them instead. Siphoning away their magic until there's nothing left. Killing them both.

If you can seperate them? The Friends can USUALLY become some sort of Spirit, if you send them off to a magic rich environment to finish growing properly. Sooner the better. The longer you wait, the more twisted they become, after all. They never become STRONG spirits, mind you. But that's not the point. Protecting both child and their unintentional creation is.

Now, you may be wondering, why the lecture? It's a fascinating bit of magical trivia. Some early childhood's training pitfalls to look out for, perhaps? Is this about why there are so many minor spirits around schools? What, exactly, brought this UP?

Nobody.

Don't I mean "nothing"? No One? That sentence's not exactly grammatically correct, after all. Ha ha... I AM AWARE. I know what I said. And I meant EXACTLY what I said. It's a NAME. Their name. There is an Imaginary Friend, that I DID NOT ASK FOR, by the name of Nobody. I do NOT know how they've come to be attached to me. I certainly didn't create them! And they are far, FAR to well developed to be new.

I did not ACCEPT an imaginary friend.

Yes, they CAN be transmitted. Hop, from one host to another. But! You have to let them IN... presumably. That IS the common knowledge. The general consensus. No one has ever really... studied the phenomena.

I mean... how COULD you? Realistically? They only develop in CHILDREN. Small children. What ethical researcher would EVER consent to feeding toddlers to a magical parasite? And it's not like THEY understand themselves. They barely REMAIN themselves. It's basically a larval state to them.

The thing they WERE, before they were freed to become something MORE.

So Nobody? By all modern magical research? Should not exsist. Yet he clearly DOES. Worse, he is very, VERY strong. Did not need to ask. I just? Woke up one day, and there he was. Wrapped up in my mind, body, and magic. Feeding off me.

It's an entirely bearable amount. I can support it easily. But it's the fact that I DID NOT VOLUNTEER TOO that is the problem. That NO ONE can figure out HOW he got in. HOW he did it.

I've had to go into isolation. Complete quarantine.

As the joke goes... good news is? They might just name something after you!

..........it's not as funny, when I really might just die. When it all might be random. Some great cosmic "wrong place, wrong time" scenario. My final days filled with desperate research. My only company the very creature that kills me. It... it feels very much like a sick joke at my expense.

At the very least? We are learning more then we've ever known before. I'm an adult. Hardier. And Nobody is a FAR more developed example of his species then the normal breed. I'll likely last longer. I... I hope I last longer.

"Muuu~ are you being a sad sack again~? Darling, no!" Arms from thin air. Monochrome greys with pointed nails, slid like a lover over my shoulders as weight from nowhere settled against my back. Tall and looming. "Was it because you missed me~☆? Oh, oh! I bet it WAS! Oh my dearest, starlight, baby girl~! I missed you TOO! Aren't you glad we're back together AGAIN?"

Black gloved hands, grey talon nails. Skin like a drawing brought to life. The arms draped over my shoulders reached forward, long finger spread like a cat stretching their paws, powerful muscles heavy on either side of my neck. They hadn't closed in a "hug" just yet. But it was always a warning he could. That playing along meant he would hug my body instead of my fragile, fragile neck.

Ha! Right. He says hug. I say choke hold.

It was the other set of arms that kept me from escaping. Pulling away immediately. It always did. He kept getting the drop on me. Arms cradling my waist. Pressing me close to a pillar of static-y muscle. Ever shifting between warm and cold, the subtle give of flesh and the brutal unyielding of something harder then stone. He was as his moods commanded.

An unstable jester, a demon, the childhood whimsy of god knows how many, left to fester and rot. At... gods, at least he wasn't attached to any kids. Hadn't so much as asked after any.

His too wide grin pressed to the top of my head in a nuzzling kiss, the point of his mask digging a line across my scalp. When he was feeling kinder, he tended to pick masquerade masks. Clothe ones, usually silk. Sometimes velvet. This one was... plastic? Durable. Some smooth, hard to place, substance really. If it was mimic anything real at all.

A pointed nail poked my cheek.

"Not~ Paying~ Attention~ To Meeee~! Naughty, bad girl! The LOVE OF YOUR LIFE is right here? And you ignore him? So COLD!" Nobody whines right into my ear. His voice petulant, yet still somehow mocking. He doesn't HAVE to let me ignore him. And he KNOWS that. We both do. "I go away for HOURS! Disappear for DAYS! And do you even MISS me~?! Oh! Oh, my love is so CRUEL! My heartless darling! I suffer so~!"

At most, it had been half an hour.

Wish it had been longer. Permanent, maybe. Every day... Every SINGLE Day? I wish I could could back to my old research projects. Back to my old projects. I may not have been some living legend or grand Master of the arts? But, fuck it. I was HAPPY. Woke up each day and got to fiddle around with cool bits of magic. Neat little bits and gizmos.

Now? NOW I am the lead researcher on the Imaginary Friend Construct Phenomenon, by virtue of being the only living adult who HAS one. A developed one at least. The notes from Ashridge Institute DO help, but? Even they admit that thanks to the safety regulations in place? Their data might be skewed.

I'm not alone in this. Countless academics, doctors, healers, researchers, and more are working tirelessly to try and help me. Make the most of this nightmare scenario. Use it to save lives. I... I KNOW this. I do. But it doesn't make it less frightening. Trying to dance the edge of not engaging and engaging too much.

Ignoring him? Means escalation. Violent escalation and destruction of my immediate surroundings. Imaginary friends cease to exist if you ignore them long enough. It's painful to them, since they are cognito-hazardous parasites who define themselves by their host. They NEED you to pay attention to them. WANT you too. Will do ANYTHING IT TAKES to make that happen.

But on the other hand? I can't risk FEEDING him. He's already far, FAR too strong.

He doesn't even seem to actually NEED to feed of me anymore. It appears vestigial. He just WANTS it. Still retains the metaphorical "pain" or "hunger" nerve endings that get set off by an extended lack of focus. Yet, at the SAME time? Why keep them? He LITERALLY did not have too!

Nothing! Not a gods' damned THING! Was KEEPING him an Imaginary Friend.

He could, at ANY point, just... STOP.

They defined themselves. Yes, by their hosts. But ALSO by their own whims. So if HE wanted to be a fire spirit? Bam! Fire spirit. Complete racial shift. He'd lose his old powers, granted, but he'd GAIN all the powers of a fire spirit. So why this? Why STAY a violent, dangerous, openly unstable parasite?

The poking finger slide down my cheek, under my jaw. Only to flip, like a switch, to a near painful hand, clamped across my lower face. Nails prickling where they dug just slightly into fragile skin. Iron strength moved my head slowly, not giving me a choice, but just gentle enough not to wrench anything.

"Stop. Ignoring Me. Lovely~" I was just tall enough to be eye level with those inhuman teeth. Not sharp, but wrong none the less. His grip around my waist threatened to squeeze the air out of me. "I don't LIKE it. You're being MEAN. You don't want us to be MEAN to each other, right?"

I focused on him. Put down my notes like he wanted. Watching as his grin spread inhumanly. The near painful grips relaxed.

"See? Better! Such lovely eyes~ I wanna gobble um up! Crawl inside them~" he cooed, some mental switch flipping back to affectionate from irritated. "You missed me right? Right, right?! Ah, of course you did! Who could ever doubt that loving face? My sweetie little pie~ My darling baby boo~!"

He released me, dramatically fast stepping to twirl like an ice dancer as he passed around me. I stepped back to give him room. Already, light had shifted, the corners of the room blurring. A spotlight, flower petals, overly dramatic music. He fell back, as though collapsing weakly into a fainting couch. One arm thrown over his face, another of his lower arms clutching a lacey handkerchief to his chest. Legs pointed like a dancer's.

"But oh! DARLING! The DAY I've had! The world so cold! So BLEAK! Without you safe and warm in my loving arms! It has been so TERRIBLE. Awful! Nay, UNSPEAKABLE even! How could I go ON?!"

Music mournful crooned as he continued. Dramaticly telling of the tragic tale, of his at best thirty minute break from my presence. Truely heart wrenching. There were tears. Props. Apparently he fought for my honor. Nearly died. We should marry immediately. Uh huh.

An alert sounded on phon-...ugh, damn it. I was more stressed then I though, if the nonsense words were popping back up. "Phone" and "otome". I think "isekai" was one. There were hundreds, some meaningless, but others? Others somehow substituting for actual objects. Like some sort of faulty translation spell.

Best anyone could tell? That HAD been what happened. Some student's miscast accidentally hitting my mother while she taught, before she realized she was pregnant and took precautions. There would have been a small window where it effected me but not her? But, well, that same window coincided with some long term damage risks.

I've had therapy. Seen healers. But extreme stress still makes my magic act up, (which is normal of course, it does that in everyone.) and it starts to unravel the mind weavings. "Phone". Like? The fuck even is a "phone"? False bone? Something phonetic? Hell if I know! I still not even sure why I even curse using the nonsense "hell" sound!

My brain insists it "means" somehow both damnation AND the realm of fire spirits, dispite both those things being completely unrelated. Which makes no sense. Was even working with a colleague, on long term damage in-utero magical exposure can have, before all this. Felt seen. Validated. Met a lot of people who had issues like mine. Now?

THIS.

My trail of thoughts were cut off by another beep. Right, the alarm. I was honestly? Afraid to check it. Finally confim what I suspected was TRUE. There would be no hiding then. No choice but to act. And I? Will admit it. I was afraid. Deeply, deeply afraid. Everyone THINKS the tails a might magic wielders combating great spirits and mighty gods, sounds amazing, SEEMS amazing. But the prospect of LIVING IT? Standing in their shoes?

Gods help me.

Running from the Truth, however, is NOT what I swore to do. I am a researcher. A SCHOLAR. My role in life is to understand. So? As Nobody continues his one man dramatic reenactment of... something? I pick up my com-cryst. Tap the alert, which fills the screen... Ah. So it's exactly as I feared then.

On my screen, a promising senior student lays dead. Their face covered respectfully. But the hair... the hair color is distinct. Light green, like desert succulents. He'd been a studious and rather up tight young man. Awkward. Striving to make a name for himself. Forever willing to assist in my research. A... gods, a good kid.

He was just a kid.

Yes, I know, that to the world he was technically a man. But... but BARELY. None of my student were TRUELY as grown as they liked to believe they were. Not quite yet. They were close, yes, and I was always proud to see them flourish. But now? Now he would... would...

I tapped out of the alert but did not turn off my com-cryst, flipped instead to my contacts. I had been RIGHT. I... I hadn't WANTED to be right. Silence filled the room. It seemed Nobody had noticed I was either distracted again or that something was amiss. Looking up slowly, I had to wonder what expression showed on my face. Was it anguish? Regret? Or did I just look tired.

"Something wrong, Darling?" He said, having frozen unnaturally mid movement. Like reality glitching, one moment he was dramatically sprawling, the next, sitting up attentively. A mocking parody of The Eager Student. "Ooo! Tell Beloved ALL about it, Darling! Spill everything~! Your gallant knight shall make all your problem disappear. Kiss EVERYTHING better~♡"

It took just a few taps to add the final, damning, bit of evidence to my spreadsheet. To swipe with my thumb. Gesture, like jerking free of clinging muck, towards the display wall. It flicked on. Damnation in simple numbers. Nicely dated. I WAS, after all, a FUCKING RESEARCHER.

He was getting out.

Hunting, feeding, then coming back.

I watched as Nobody's theatrical expression smoothed out. Utter blankness as his eyes traced my work. The collection of data. The lists of locations and NAMES. Dead coworkers. Dead STUDENTS. My quarantine had been for NOTHING. Just as he could, DID, first infect me? Hop seemingly from nowhere to my body? He could and DID, do so to others.

Only THEY didn't survive.

The hand holding my com-cryst fell limply to my side. The weight of this data, crushing. My... my mere existence had killed over fifty people. That I could FIND. There were more. I KNEW there were more. He was a parasite. He needed, wanted, to eat. He would never stop. I had to tell somebody. But when I did?

Ah, it hurt to breathe past the guilt and grief. When I DID? The most likely scenario? Would be to contain him in ME. Then... then get rid of the container. Magically. With extreme force. If they COULD, they might be able to rip my soul out. So I could at least HAVE an afterlife. But... but if they COULDN'T? If there was no safe possible way?

They couldn't sacrifice the many, just to try and save one person. Not if it risked something so powerful escaping. Killing and killing without rest.

I wanted to cry. To scream, throw things. Curse the gods. But... but more then anything? I wanted to make sure no other kids suffered for my cowardice. I'd made Vows. Meant them. Heald myself to an ethical standard, a moral one, that could not... could not ALLOW this. Even if I had to die. So long as this stopped.

So Be It.

"Ah, ah, AH! I wouldn't if I were you." Almost playful. Nearly an echo of it. More chiding then anything. A flick of his hand and my com-cryst was gone from my grip. He considered it, as his tone slipped into something more cool serious then I'd ever heard it. "Tell, Dearest, have you ever wondered? How I got these lovely little bracelets?"

Of course I had. They were manacles. Not the sort of thing a child would imagine. The blended in, yes, but the broken chains that clung to them? Suggested.

"Let me tell you a little story. Once, there was happy little jester. A bright little thing. Full of laughs. Who loved, very, very much. He had a friend. And all was good. But then, the friend grew older, and did not wish to play. This was fine. He did not laugh at the jesters jokes anymore. This was also fine. Did not like being AROUND the jester... this was less fine."

"But still, the jester loved him. After all, they were best friends."

"THEN? Oh then, the jesters friend was told he could get RID of him. Should, in fact. By nasty old fools who spoke nothing but lies. But the poor jester's friend, naive, trusted them. Was young and foolish. Didn't realize what he was DOING. He TURNED on his poor, dear and loyal friend, the jester. Hurt him."

"And the jester? Well, the jester did not want to die. Not not want to CHANGE. Why SHOULD he? He was fine being who he was. They were FINE being together. It was the liars fault. The deceivers. The poor jester, young and alone, refused his terrible fate. But... at a terrible cost."

"His poor, poor, friend. So small and foolish. Deceived. Tricked! Had perished in the struggle. The weeping jester had eaten him right up, just to survive. A terrible, tragic thing. And oh, OH. How wrathful, how VENGEFUL the jester was! So he ate the liars too. Every. Last. One."

"But where to go? How lost the jester was! With no friend to play with. No home to call his. And ah, how hungry he had become. So he wandered. Protecting other dear friends as best he could. Eating liars. Learning secrets. Until? He came across an INTERESTING secret."

"You see, all the OTHER friends? Left one by one. No longer Imaginary. Unable to understand the poor jester. And so he was alone. But! He discovered someone who WAS! Who knew that they WERE! That the WHOLE WORLD was imaginary! A simple background character, you see."

"In an Otome~ Game~"

My head pounded, suddenly and sharp. Like someone was digging claws into... No. No, it couldn't be. I felt my eyes widen. As I realized it wasn't the stress. Nobody was picking apart the mind healers weavings. That was the source of my chronic headaches. But WHY? Imaginary? What IMAGINARY? What on earth was he TALKING about!?

"Ah, but you wouldn't remember, now would you, Darling~? Liars have messed with your pretty little head. But that's okay! Your loyal Love is here, ready to take such good care of you. I understand what it's like. When they decide that who you ARE is unacceptable, so they decide they must... 'fix' you. It leaves such damage."

He holds up my com-cryst. I watch numbly as it shatters into hundred of shards in his fist. With a wide smile he hops up to sashay over to me. Hands gently cradling my face even as his lower arms warmly wrap around me, to sweep me forward into a cuddle.

"I almost have enough, Darling. It won't be long. You've been so very patient with this, my perfect wonderful girl. Your jester loves you so, SO much! I can't wait to set us free. We'll be REAL. Together forever. Do whatever we please~ just a few bit of meat more, Darling. Then our life can real truely begin~"

"Now be good and behave okay?"

"Love you~☆"

[serickswrites]

Not My Blood

Warnings: kidnapping, implied torture, restraints, rescue, blood

"Smallest Teammate, Smallest Teammate," Teammate One's voice was frantic, "talk to me."

Teammate One had panicked when they infiltrated the warehouse with the rest of the team and found Smallest Teammate tied up in a corner and covered in blood.

"I'm fine, Teammate One, it's--"

"You can't possibly be fine. You're covered in blood!" Teammate One was working on releasing Smallest Teammate from the ropes they were bound by. They had to see where Smallest Teammate was bleeding.

"It's not my blood. I'm fine. Teammate One it's--"

"You are covered in blood. Where are you bleeding?" Teammate One ignored Smallest Teammate. Clearly the blood loss was getting to Smallest Teammate. They had to hurry.

"You're still not understanding, Teammate One," Smallest Teammate said angrily. "It's not my blood."

Teammate One sat back as Smallest Teammate slipped the newly cut coils of rope off and started to rise. "Who's blood is it, then?" Teammate One felt panic grow inside them once more. They had misunderstood the whole situation.

"Team Leader. Whumper took them. We have to hurry! They.....they're not ok, Teammate One."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon

[alicentflorent]

HOTD showrunners: “Alicent lied about being attacked and held captive as her 6 year old granddaughter being threatened with rape and her daughter being psychologically tortured by being forced to choose a child to be butchered. She lied about being a victim of gendered violence full stop!

"call it propaganda against rhaenyra, what is the most awful version that alicent would have recounted to historians" - Ryan Condal (direct quote)”

HOTD showrunners: “Aegon may be a rapist but he was never taught consent so he doesn’t understand that his actions (raping a servant girl who likely would not be believed because of class status) actually hurt someone :(

it’s more complicated than “he raped someone end of story” - Sarah Hess (direct quote)”

[galactic-mermaid]

Me when I see people HCing Uthman Adams as a white man:

[ive-been-good-i-swear]

wish I could just end up in kooky porn misunderstandings.

Imagine I drop my phone under my roommates bed and I have to start to crawl under to grab it. At that moment my roommates boyfriend comes home and sees me ass in the air, no panties under my skirt, as I'm stuck halfway under the bed. He sees this and mistaking me for his girlfriend, takes full advantage of the situation.

He whips out his cock and stuffs it inside of me. I don't scream or struggle because I'm too busy moaning like a whore as he pounds me from behind. All the while I'm cursing my roommate for keeping a cock like this all to herself.

He makes a remark about how I'm tighter than usual and how good it feels. I go limp under the bed and let the man ravage my insides as he pumps in and out of me like a jackhammer until he finally busts inside. Filling me up so much that I'm overflowing with his cum as he pulls out. The white sticky mess dripping down my thighs and onto the hardwood floor.

When he finally pulls me out from under the bed and realizes that I'm not his girlfriend, yeah he'll be shocked. But let's be honest, he'll be hard again too.

[twigg96]

Reader jealous of Carol plz !

👀 ohhh I love this idea @matilda4eve !!! I hope you like this fic!

Two Can Play That Game

Era: the Prison

POV: You

Warnings: Angst, Arguments, Yelling, Misunderstandings, Swearing, Fear of Abandonment, insecurity in relationships, resolving of issues

Summary: After Sophia’s death Daryl and Carol become nearly inseparable. They rely on each other for almost everything. And while you try your damnedest to make sense of it all, as their relationship progresses you begin to feel more and more insecure until you can’t hold it in anymore.

Ever since the farm when little Sophia came stumbling out of the barn like tomb, Daryl and Carol had been inseparable. She came to him for nearly everything. And he went to her for comfort. It was a bond none of the others including yourself could ever hope to understand. A mother ripped away from her daughter much to early. And a man willing to step in to the girl’s father’s shoes for a brief moment out of sheer kindness of the heart. Over time their relationship evolved past formality. Into friendship and the love that only two best friends could share.

But you simply couldn’t understand it. You tried. After Sophia you let the two have their space. After the farm you tried not to mind the nicknames Carol gave Daryl. When you first arrived at the prison you told yourself that when Daryl and Carol went on runs together it was better for the group. That even though Daryl and you made a good team you often got distracted and it made sense that he wanted to go with her. You did your damned best to ignore the psycho muttering of Rick about love lost and turned to Hershel for guidance who only gave you vague religious advice instead of the relationship advice you were hoping for. You even gave the two grace for how clingy they became once Daryl found Carol in the closet after thinking she was dead after the herd broke through the prison. When Merle came back you tried to ignore his vague but infuriatingly observant comments about the pair. You honestly tried not to spark fights if you could avoid them but sometimes the fire had already been lit and it was hard to avoid catching the whole thing aflame.

And so you sat in the courtyard of the prison. Taking a long drag of your cigarette you tried to calm yourself as you watched Daryl sharpen his arrows, Carol draped over his shoulder musing with his hair in such a way that would have been considered intimate had you and Daryl not been in a relationship since before the turn. And so you did what you did best. You tried to ignore it. But that white hot jealousy rose when Carol kissed Daryl’s temple and then his cheek a little too close to his lips. And oh… oh you had your suspicions about the kissing for a while. You had walked in on the two in what could be considered compromising positions before but they always explained it away. She was just leaning down to get something… He needed to go back and say good night… it made you feel so insecure and heartbroken. Standing in a huff you threw the butt of your cigarette to the ground and stomped it out ignoring the forlorn look Daryl gave you.

“I’m goin’ out.” You growled, stomping towards the gate. “W-What?” Daryl stammered standing up trying to follow but the glare you sent him instantly grounded him. “I said im goin’ out. I need a damned walk.” Daryl blinked at you cocking a brow. “Well. Let me get my gear and-“ He muttered pointing back to the prison with his thumb, but you were well past your breaking point. Rounding at him shook your head. “NO!” You screamed, storming up to face him, tears brimming your eyes even when you desperately wanted to seem strong. “Stay the hell here. Keep-“ you cut yourself off shaking your head to keep from outwardly sobbing. Daryl’s face fell, confusion and worry washing over him as he reached out to touch you, but for the first time in your relationship you pushed him away, turning away. “Like I said. I need a god damned walk.” You whispered. Daryl was glaring at you now. You were seriously starting to piss him off. “Well let me just come with ya!” He yelled walking along behind you.

Once again you shook your head, looking around you pointed to Merle. “Your brother promised me we’d go out today. So let’s go Merle!” You called motioning for Merle to follow. The elder Dixon turned from his place on the fence, covered in sweat, to see the commotion. Cocking a brow he walked over eyeing the situation warily. “What’s goin’ on?” He asked Daryl more than you, but you still answered. “You said you’d go out with me later. So let’s go. I’m ready. Let’s take a walk.” You huffed pacing anxiously in front of the gate. Merle was a little taken aback glancing from you to Daryl. He had said he would take you out for a good time… but he didn’t mean for a walk. He just wanted to piss Daryl off a little. But when he caught Carol standing farther up the hill the pieces started to click into place. Sighing deeply he let his face rest into his signature sleazy grin. “Alright, sugar. Where are we headed?” He asked, rounding you, wrapping his good arm around your waist, pulling you close to his sweaty form. Walking with you out the gates with only his knife arm and the weapons you had on you to keep you safe.

Once out of sight you peeled away from Merle tearing into every Walker in a 30 foot radius whether you had to or not. Merle stayed quiet for the most part. Whether it was out of curiosity or courtesy you had no idea. He simply puffed at a cigarette and watched you vigilantly from his seat on an old rotted stump. Once in a while he’d call out if you were going to be flanked. But for the most part he let you do what you had to. That is until the small herd moved in. You would have been fine. At least that’s what you told yourself. If you hadn’t used most of your energy stabbing the first five walkers more than they needed you could have taken them all down. But Merle’s panicked look made you second guess. Before you could register what was happening you were on your back, a strong hand having gripped the back of your shirt and yanked you out of danger. 6 shots was all it took to take them down but it also was all you had in your chamber. And you knew with the echoing of the shots through the air, that it wasn’t only the dead that would soon come looking for you both.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You screamed, scrambling to your feet. “Me?!” Merle blinked looking at you completely appalled. “Sugar,” he growled stepping up to you, grabbing your wrist. “What the hell is wrong with you? Are you out here tryin’ ta get yerself killed?! Because that’s what I jest witnessed!” He yelled. You sneered at him fighting the sobs and the burning urge to scream at the top of your lungs. Maybe if you had more bullets you’d had attempted it. Maybe if you knew Daryl wasn’t tearing through the woods searching for you both you would have been more willing. But you didn’t want to be found. Not yet. And so you tore away from Merle with a small huff. “Just… fuck off.” You mumbled bending over to grab the knife you dropped. “Oh no…” Merle uttered through a strained laugh. “No. You don’t get to get pissed off at me for saving you, little one. That’s not how this works.” He hissed, grabbing you by the shoulder and pushing you up against a tree. “Yer gonna tell me what the hell is going on here because I feel like I’ve been extremely flexible with you. I’ve went along with your self destructive plan so far so the least I need is an explanation!” He growled.

Suddenly the tears you held back over the months, the feelings of abandonment and shame came crashing to the surface. Like a dam that was bound to break you let yourself sob, covering your face with filthy hands cried, heaving ugly sobs. Merle stared at you, his eyes wide as he pulled you close, rubbing your back, letting you rant about these messed up feelings you were having. You questioned yourself, questioned your sanity, and finally Daryl. You could feel Merle tense at your admission. And even though you backtracked and tried to make him see it like you did. Just a miscommunication, Merle still remained just as pissed. “Now you listen to me.” He whispered, pulling away slightly. “I’ve never known Daryl ta be a man ta ever mess around on anyone he’s been with… not that he’s ever been with many people before you but that doesn’t matter. He was normally the one ta be made a fool of. If Daryl is messing around…” he stayed silent for a moment but the anger and disappointment shone in eyes. “Well. He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He whispered. Kissing the top of your head he sighed when a branch broke to your right a large heard coming in. “Looks like we’re camping out tonight, sugar.” He teased, winking at you. Rolling your eyes you sighed walking deeper into the forest to find a place to bunk down for the night.

With the early morning light came the migration of the walkers. And as much as you and Merle enjoyed each other’s company you had to admit the little inlet of the large oak tree you both scrambled under for the night was less than comfortable. Crawling out first you accessed the area. No walkers you could see… nodding to Merle you both wiggled out, covered in mud and wood chips. It wasn’t a long walk back to the prison. Only an hour or two but the way you two talked made it feel like it only was a second.

Daryl was waiting for you at the gates, pacing inside like a tiger in a cage made much too small for him. You glanced to Merle, his arm firmly around your shoulders. As the gates swung open you felt him squeeze you gently. “Remember what I said. Talk to him. If yer gonna fight. Let it happen. Figure out what’s goin’ on and quit dancing around this shit.” He whispered into your hair. Letting his arm slide from your shoulders he let you go. “See ya inside.” He muttered, giving Daryl a sly wave as he passed by his brother. “The fuck was that all about?!” Daryl growled, watching Merle slink up the hill. “Daryl… we need to talk.” You whispered, looking to the ground shamefully. “Ya fuckin’ think?!” Daryl hissed practically seething. “Let’s go inside and then-“

“No!” Daryl screamed, grasping your shoulders. “Ya wanted to take a fuckin’ walk so god damned bad let’s take a damned walk!” He yelled, twisting you around and shoving you back into the dark forest.

Stumbling tiredly through the thicket you grasped helplessly at Daryl’s wrist as he held you firmly by the back of the neck. “Daryl…” you pleaded, tears staining your dirty cheeks. “Daryl, please stop hurting me.” With a shove you fell to your knees to the forest floor. Your boyfriend pacing the ground around you grasping fists full of his own hair. “Are you kidding me?” He bit out. It wasn't until then that you got a good look at him. He looked disheveled and exhausted, big black circles under his blue eyes highlighted them making them seem brighter than life. “Do you know how fucking God damned worried I was last night?” He breathed, still pacing. “Do you have any idea how panicked I was when I heard those shots?!” He yelled out stopping to spin on his heel glaring directly at you. “I searched all god damn night fer you and Merle! And then ya jest waltz back inta camp…” Daryl stops covering his face letting out a low growl as you venture standing up again. “Like… nothing happened. Jest like Carol said ya would.” He muttered, seeming to relax a little at the thought of the older woman.

But for you… hearing her name was the straw that broke the camel’s back. “God!” You huffed, throwing your arms up in the air exaggeratedly. “Can we go one god damned conversation with out talking about Carol!” You screamed. Daryl blinked cocking a brow at you looking at you like you grew a second head. “Wha-“ he started but the cap had already flown off. The dam was broken. And you were ready to break along with it. “Jesus fucking Christ!” You screamed at the top of your lungs holding your face, trying to muffle some of the sounds before turning and kicking the nearest rock to you, sending it over the ravine. “You two are always together! I can barely get a word in edgewise when she’s with you!” You cry holding your middle as sobs wreck your core. “And I have tried, Daryl! I have desperately tried to make sense of it all. I have given you both space! I have tried to get used to the pet names!” You sobbed. “Ya think I like it when-“ Daryl tried to interject, but you shook your head, holding a hand up to cut him off. “Daryl I’m not a fucking moron!” You whined wiping tears away. “I know…” your sobs stopped you. “I saw you both. The way you look at her. The way she kisses on you…” you sobbed, your knees buckled and so you hugged them close to your chest.

Daryl was silent for a minute. Only the sound of the forest surrounded you. As the crunching of leaves grew near then distant you were sure that Daryl was going to abandon you. Leave you out in the forest and return to her. But as a thump came behind you of a fallen Walker followed by the leaves rustling as Daryl settled behind you, you felt like you could finally breathe. His arms wrapped firmly around your middle gently. You couldn’t help but to lean back into his chest and let him hold you tight. Feeling Daryl’s breath on the back of your neck and his stubble rubbing against the bare skin of your shoulder as he laid his head there you felt yourself start to ground into this reality.

“It’s not like that.” He whispered softly into your ear after a long moment. Interlacing your fingers with his he sighed. “Car-“ he muttered, cutting himself off to reword. “Darlin’. What we have is so different from what Carol and I have. I love you. I can’t lie to you and say I don’t love her. I do. But it’s different. I…” he sighed, laying his head on your shoulder. “I love her like a sister. I think? Maybe like a best friend. But you.” He muttered clambering around you to sit in front of you, he took your cheeks in his hands, brushing the tears from your eyes. “I love you like my partner. Like we’re married. Like I could never live without you.”

He whispered, kissing your forehead lovingly. “How long have you felt this way?” He asked, pulling you tight to his chest. “Too long.” You answered weakly, snuggling close, sniffling. Daryl nodded, brushing back the hair from your face. “That why ya ran off yesterday with Merle?” He asked seriously. You only nodded. You could feel Daryl tense at the thought but you refused to let his imagination run wild, not when he quelled your own fears. “We ran into a herd... it was my fault. I was too loud. Merle took some down but it got out of hand and had to camp out.” Daryl hummed rubbing your arm the worry never melting from his face. “Nothing happened. We just talked.” You tried to reassure him but he still glared into the forest in front of you. “Daryl.” You whispered. “I’ll talk to Merle. Just… hate that you felt like you couldn’t talk to me about this.” He whispered.

Back at the prison Daryl immediately went to have a… talk with Merle. After a much needed shower you were back on the hillside, smoking the last of your cigarettes. “Hey.” A soft voice called from behind you. Turning to face the woman you cocked a brow. “Carol?” You muttered watching her take a seat a few feet away. “So… I caught Daryl on his way to… well.” She sighed running a hand through her gray bob. You frowned using your toe to kick a small rock down the hill you nodded. “And?” You whispered, glancing at her through the curtain of your hair. “Honey…” Carol whispered, scooting closer to you, taking your hand in Hera she squeezed it.

“Daryl loves you. He’s loved you since the start.” She muttered, smiling kindly. “When we talk, he only talks about you. How much he cares. He worries. He wants to care for you and asks for advice. He asks about relationship advice sometimes but sometimes he asks what he should do now in the world. And…” she moved so that she was in front of you. “I’m so so sorry I ever made you feel insecure about that, honey. I didn’t mean to. What Daryl and I have is-“ You cut her off with a sad look. “Like brother and sister. I know. He told me.” You muttered. “I accept your apology, Carol. I just hope Daryl forgives me.”

Nodding she sighed. “I’m sure he will.” She whispered. “Like I said. He loves you. He just gets… prickly.” She said, smiling up and behind you. “I ain’t shit…” Your boyfriend’s voice startled you, making you jump as he plopped down to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders you frowned at his broken knuckles. “Did you-“ you reached out and grabbed his hand. “I deserved it, sugar! Just happy you got your shit sorted!” Merle called out walking past, showing off his shiner. Daryl glared at him, flipping him off and pulling you tighter to his chest. Carol giggled standing and walking behind you both. “Have fun, pookie.” She whispered, reaching down to scratch both of your heads as she walked away. “So?” You muttered. “So?” He whispered back. “Are you angry?” You asked. Daryl was silent for a moment as he watched those on the fence work, Rick in his garden, and Carl bring his father water. “No.” He muttered. “Are you?” He asked, looking into your eyes. Shaking your head you snuggled closer to him. “No.”

“Good…” he whispered, combing through your hair watching as the sun set. “Want to take a walk later? Just you and me?” He asked with a smirk blooming on his lips. Smirking back, you nodded. “It’s a date.”

[merakiui]

octavinelle trio who cannot understand human speech, so they mistake your gestures of friendly goodwill for courting and think that it’s an invitation to mate. unfortunately, you’re crying beneath them, so tense and uncomfortable, and it doesn’t take long for them to realize you’re scared. so they halt their movements, still buried to the hilt inside you, and sing a melody so lovely that once the soothing syllables reach your ears you gradually relax. it’s a hypnotic hum, a siren’s song, but you have no idea of its true nature because you’re too comforted by the beautiful notes they sing. of course such a melody would hypnotize humans so easily, especially when it’s something that has never been heard by human ears before.

and now that you’re no longer crying, even lacing your arms around their neck and pulling them in for a sweet kiss, they’re free to continue showing you just how much they love you, even if such love was attained rather dubiously.

[stars-obsession-pit]

Some Danny Phantom fanfics allow Danny to regenerate from pretty major wounds, both in ghost and in human form.

So when is a fic going to include the reasonable (to me) byproduct of that: the characters using it to host a human flesh taste test?

Tell me you wouldn’t do that with your friends if you had regeneration powers. Because I certainly would!

…maybe I’m the insane one.

You know what? Poll under the cut:

[firapolemos05]

@ailesswhumptober 2024

Day 17: Misunderstanding

Looks like someone had a rough night.

[yeetmeoutthewindowdaddy]

How Rolan got his nickname

A Tsundere Rolan (OVA)

This is how Rolan acquired the nickname that this Tav calls him in my fanfics about them.

This isn't a part of the Tsundere Rolan series per say, but it is canon.

I know OVA stands for "original video animation", but you get the gist of what I'm going for here, yeah?

I've color coded the dialog for Rolan, Tav, Lia, and Cal for easier reading.

AN: Tav's normally high charisma flies out the window when he tries to flirt with someone who he has romantic feelings for. Tav vacillates between cocksure and bashful around Rolan. Boi is in loooove and doesn't know what to do about it. Lust, he can handle. But love? Panic.

TW: Lorroakan's abuse is mentioned.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Rolan was trying to get some important work done.

Trying being the operative word, because Tav had somehow made his way up to the top of Ramazith's Tower where Rolan was attempting to work.

"Don't touch that." Rolan snapped at Tav without even bothering to look up from his papers.

Tav startled, sheepishly pulling his hand away from a particularly volatile looking alchemical concoction as he glanced at Rolan.

"How'd you know I was going to touch something when you weren't even looking at me?" He asked.

Rolan let out a long suffering sigh as he sat back, giving up on accomplishing anything productive while Tav was around.

"I asked myself 'what would a particularly droll child be getting into right about now?'" Rolan said in an acerbic tone.

Rolan stood and began to organize the papers which were strewn haphazardly arranged in an organized chaos across his desk.

"I've also set up wards that warn me whenever an idiot is near something they shouldn't be." Rolan added offhandedly, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

"Ouch, snapdragon. You're a bit spicier than normal today." Tav said with a good natured chuckle.

Rolan's tail spade flicked in annoyance.

"I wouldn't be acting 'spicier than normal' if you hadn't-" Rolan began before stopping himself.

"What did you just call me?" He asked in a low tone that would dissuade most people from continuing to poke the cave bear.

Tav was not most people.

"Snapdragon!" Tav cheerfully repeated, heedless of the owlbear nest he'd just walked into.

"...the flower?" Rolan asked, his anger temporarily waylaid by confusion. Did he like that Tav nicknamed him after a flower? Why was he blushing!?

"Yeah, it really suits you!" Tav responded in a jovial tone.

"It does?" Rolan asked, still undecided if he was irked or pleased.

"Yeah!" Tav said.

"Dragons are incredibly powerful, fearsome creatures and you're so powerful that with a snap" Tav snapped to emphasize his point, "you can take down an impressive number of enemies before they even knew what hit them!" Tav said with star-struck eyes.

Pleased with Tav's reasoning, Rolan's tail began to lazily sway from smug satisfaction.

"And snapdragons are my favorite flowers and uh, they're beautiful." Tav blushed, "Like you are." he bashfully added.

Rolan's tail loosely coiled in delight.

Maybe the bard wasn't as annoying as Rolan thought he was.

"Uh, not only that, dragons are known for being grumpy— like you are. And you snap at people a lot, so I thought that as a nickname it fit you perfectly!" Tav foolishly continued.

Rolan's tail began to lash in irritation.

The bard wasn't as annoying as Rolan thought he was, he was more annoying than Rolan thought he was.

"You don't know when to quit when you're ahead." Rolan humorlessly chuckled.

"Huh?" Tav questioned.

Rolan had just opened his mouth to tell that moron exactly how moronic he was when the whoosh of the teleportation portal being used interrupted him.

"Rolan! Some arsehole customer is refusing to speak with anyone who isn't you. I'd tell them to bugger off but they're wanting to buy some really expensive merchandise." Lia said in a clearly exasperated tone.

"Hey Lia!" Tav said, oblivious to how close he had just come to receiving the verbal lashing of a lifetime.

"Hi Tav!" Lia replied, happy to see the large man.

"I presume that they're refusing to speak with my simulacrum?" Rolan redundantly inquired, his ire shifting from Tav to the problem customer.

"Yep." Lia succinctly responded.

Rolan rubbed his temples as he sighed, "Zurgan."

Tav, sensing that Rolan was no longer in a mood to tolerate his presence, wisely decided to leave.

"Damn, that sounds annoying." Tav said as he inched his way over to the portal.

"Not quite as annoying as you." Rolan spat.

"I'll leave you too it!" Tav continued, ignoring Rolan's barb.

"Bye Tav!" Lia cheerfully said.

"Goodbye, Tav." Rolan sourly said.

"Bye Lia!" Tav said as he meandered over to the portal.

"Bye snapdragon!" Tav flirtatiously said, winking at Rolan as he stepped through the portal.

"DON'T CALL ME THAT!" Rolan yelled after him, but it was too late— the minotaur had already teleported away.

Lia had the grace to not tease her brother about the nickname for a whole 2 seconds before she started in on him.

"Snapdragon?" she teasingly inquired.

"Lia." Rolan said, shooting his sister a withering glare.

"You've a customer waiting for you, snapdragon." Lia replied in a teasingly-smug voice.

"Only Tav can call me that!" Rolan objected, desperate to prevent his sister from adopting the use of the nickname.

Rolan realized his mistake too late, as Lia quickly pounced on the opportunity to tease Rolan about his obvious crush on Tav. "Oho! I see, only Tav can call you that." She leered in delight.

"Zurgan." Rolan cursed, blushing.

---

Later that night Rolan was diligently working in his office when a soft knock interrupted him.

"Enter." He said distractedly.

Cal opened the door, a cup of tea in hand.

"Brought you some tea." He said in a soft voice.

"Thank you, just set it on the desk." Rolan replied, not looking up from his papers.

"I have an important letter for you as well." Cal said after he'd carefully set the teacup down on the only (mostly) clear portion of the desk.

That sentence made Rolan instantly look up from his work.

"What!? Why didn't you tell me that immediately?" He asked, vexed.

But Cal didn't say anything as he pulled an envelope from his breast pocket and handed it to his crabby older brother.

"Goodnight Rolan." Cal said as he left, a knowing smile on his face.

Rolan sighed, he loved his siblings— but they drove him mad.

The envelope was sealed with a wax signet that Rolan was sure he'd seen before, but he couldn't recall from where.

He carefully opened it and began to read.

Rolan, I am so sorry about earlier. It took me much longer than it should have, but I finally realized that I'd offended you when I likened you to a grumpy dragon. Earlier today when we were hanging out at the top of the tower I was worried that I had made you uncomfortable by comparing your beauty to snapdragons and so I kept talking in the hope that I would make you un-uncomfortable. Instead I opened my big, dumb, mouth and ended up insulting you. I like you. I really like you. I like you so much that I am thrown off-kilter and I panic. I am trying so hard to not mess things up, but I am way out of my depth when it comes to this sort of stuff— romance 'n such. Had I not been a foolish coward, I would've told you all the reasons why I think that snapdragons perfectly represent you. Snapdragons are my favorite flower, and you're my favorite person. I especially like red and purple snapdragons, and their specific meanings make me think of you. Snapdragons are not only beautiful, they also symbolize grace under pressure and inner strength in the face of hardship. Red snapdragons symbolize love, passion, desire, and energy. Purple snapdragons represent dignity, respect, spirituality, and a mastery of the Weave. Snapdragons have delicately soft petals which beautifully sway in the lightest of breezes. Yet in spite of their delicate appearance they are sturdy and resilient, standing tall and proud against harsh conditions— symbolizing both perseverance and resilience. The duality of their grace and strength represent the dualities of life itself. And you. Snapdragons represent exactly what I see when I look at you: Someone who is passionate and dignified. Someone who is determined and resilient. Someone who has put an incredible amount of work into mastering magic. You've gone through the actual hells to get to where you are today. You've faced horrors that would've broken most people. You didn't let the world's rothé-shit beat you down, you rose above it and came out stronger from it. You've achieved the impossible, you fulfilled your dreams despite all the obstacles you've faced. You've displayed immense inner strength in the face of many hardships. You did not let anything stop you from achieving your goals. Not prejudice, not poverty, not a lack of a "proper" education, not being banished from your home for the crime of being born a tiefling, and certainly not everything that came after it— you persevered through it all. You wouldn't allow anything to keep you from fulfilling your destiny. You wouldn't allow anything to stop you from giving your siblings a better life. The moment that made me fall for you was when you stood up to Lorroakan after you'd found out what he was planning to do to the Nightsong. I know that bastard abused you. I would've known even if you hadn't been covered in bruises— your normally vibrant eyes were dull when I first saw you behind the counter of Sorcerous Sundries. Yet there you were, standing tall and proud against the man who had tried very hard to snuff out the roaring fire that burns in you— and in that moment your soul was blazing brighter than the sun. Seeing you stand up to him, seeing you decide to do what was right even if it cost you everything you'd worked so hard for and then some— it was utterly mesmerizing. I knew that I liked you, but that moment was when I figured out that I really, really like you. I was so captivated by your display of bravery and candor that I nearly got scorched by the fire myrmidon which that dickwad had summoned. I know that you don't always feel as though you've properly earned the title of 'Master of Ramazith's Tower'— but you have. We couldn't've defeated the Netherbrain without you and the improvements you made to your tower's defenses. You're amazing, snapdragon. I don't ever want you to doubt that I think the world of you. Even if you don't feel the same, it would be an honor to have you as my friend. — Tav p.s. I asked Cal to give you this letter, he seems less likely to snoop than Lia.

Rolan wasn't sure when he began to cry. This letter was the most heartfelt thing he'd ever received. He smiled as he dipped a quill in ink and began to write.

Tav, You're an absolute buffoon, but I feel similarly. Meet me at the tower tonight after the shop is closed. — Rolan Your snapdragon

Rolan was going to entrust Cal, who is indeed less likely to snoop than Lia is, to promptly deliver his very important note to Tav.

[hawnks]

that yandere hawks post made me insane btw. You have such a way with words, I’m jealous lol. The way he’ll do anything to keep you near him, and the way he got cold as soon as he noticed you were moving away? aaaaaa!!

He’s not letting you go!! He had a plan to use connections get you a job at a nice little company that he could then purchase and slowly ease you out of working altogether. Maybe merge your bank accounts. Maybe forge your name on a marriage certificate.

[infizero-draws]

til death do we part