#not knowing he can understand everything

[mynnthia]

was talking with a friend about how some of dunmeshi fаndom misunderstands kabru's initial feelings towards laios.

to sum up kabru's situation via a self-contained modernized metaphor:

kabru is like a guy who lost his entire family in a highly traumatic car accident. years later he joins a discord server and takes note of laios, another server member who seems interesting, so they start chatting. then laios reveals his special interest and favorite movie of all time is David Cronenberg's Crash (1996), and invites kabru to go watch a demolition derby with him

[prlssprfctn]

I've been brewing this post for far too long in my drafts, but I need more doomed!Bruce and Jason throughout universes. And it is not even always about the same Jaybin, dying in the warehouse scenarios!

Sometimes Jason is just a kid, who died in front of Batman, who maybe jumped in between Batman and the villain recklessly, to keep him safe, and whose blood stuck under Bruce's nails. His face haunts him in nightmares, still.

In other realities, Bruce meets Jason as a teen, and they never even get to become father and son officially - but they slowly get into each other's lives, until something awful happens, leaving a ghost of a smirking kid stroll behind Bruce's hunched figure for the rest of his life.

Or maybe it is one of these realities, where Jason crawls out of the Alley Crime himself, and manages to become famous in Gotham; the one, where he opens a charity fond, dedicated to people, who fight with the drug addiction. Bruce Wayne is sympathetic of a kid he meets during some of the events, and as they slowly start contacting each other more often, getting closer, he promises himself to protect him. Expect, Batman is late to save Jason Todd from the hands of yet another villain.

It could be the priest Jason Todd that meets bleeding out Batman on the stairs of the church, and who helps him out, for what he later pays with his life. Or they are not really vigilantes in any of these universes - just father and son.

And in some of these universes, they reconcile. In one of them, some of the medics connect the dots that a catatonic boy, who is covered in dirt, calling for his dad, for Bruce is Bruce's Wayne dead son, and try calling him. In another, LoA!Jason with his memory still being in a haze, crosses his path with Batman, before getting dipped in the Lazarus Pit.

But the point stands.

In all of them, Bruce Wayne is too late. In all of them, Bruce Wayne fails to save Jason Todd.

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[egophiliac]

swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks

(I gave Silver one too :D)

[turtleblogatlast]

I think a lot about Leo standing up for his brothers in the things that really matter to them.

Like- Leo is the one who immediately pushes Mikey and Donnie into finding Raph the second it’s clear that their oldest brother is missing because he knows Raph can’t handle being separated like that.

Leo is the one who stands up for Mikey when Mikey wants to go on a solo mission, actively vouching for him and being the one to convince Raph into letting Mikey go, because being independent and proving himself just as capable of standing on his own two feet as everyone else means so much to Mikey.

And Leo defends Donnie’s honor in particular when his brothers’ intelligence is insulted because Leo is well aware of how important Donnie’s smarts are to him - and how important having those smarts valued and acknowledged is as well.

All this goes right into just how well Leo knows his brothers. For as much as he’ll tease or fight with them, he knows them, and he loves them.

[maleficore]

When I tell you I have been thinking about this for three days straight...

[demaparbat-hp]

In your Spitfire AU, since Zuko is looking after Lu Ten II, what happened to Ursa?

Zuko is slightly older in the Spitfire AU. He was banished at fifteen, his head a little clearer and denial a little weaker than in canon. After his first look through the Air Temples, Zuko decides that if he can't find a myth, he might as well search for the next best thing.

Finding Ursa isn't easy, but in time he makes it to a secluded house in a near-forgotten part of the world. His mom is there, older and stronger and alive.

But she isn't alone.

And Zuko, as it turns out, didn't keep the best company during his search.

When Ursa is discovered and her secrets are laid bare for assassins (for Ozai) to find, she begs Zuko to take his little brother and run. She'll do anything it takes to protect her children, even if that means leaving them behind to keep a target off their back. Ursa diverts attention from them and allows Lu Ten's ancestry to be kept a secret. She orders Zuko not to follow her again, and disappears.

Zuko is left with a little three-year-old brother to raise and a mother he cannot hold onto.

[starry-bi-sky]

mmmmm danny with sensory issues both in and out of his ghost forms, but on the opposite ends of the spectrum. Ghosts can't experience sensations the same way humans can when they're in the mortal realm. They're naturally intangible, and it takes energy to be physical. When they're physical, all touch feels the same barring the texture. They feel no heat, no chill. Sunlight passes through them, and so does wind and rain.

You know when your foot falls asleep/goes completely numb, and you go to touch it with your hand and it causes a strange jumble of sensations? You can feel the skin there, your palm is pressing against an object and there's resistance, pressure, but you can't feel the heat? It's kinda something like that. Like he's feeling everything through a set of gloves.

As a ghost, when it rains, he can feel the raindrops hitting him, and he can feel his hair getting wet, but he can't feel the chill of the water and he can't feel the wetness. His suit is soaked but there's no weight like there should be. During the winter snowflakes don't melt when they land on him, and he can't feel the chill of the snow when he gets buried under it.

Sunlight passes through him, a nice breeze ruffles his hair but there's no relief in the sensation. All pressure, no sensation. It's like a strange form of sensory deprivation. And of course, the internal things. It's even worse when he's intangible, when he's not putting energy into being physical. He doesn't feel real.

As human, things become too much. Especially when he's been a ghost for hours. He can feel the weight of his ribs pressing against his ribs, he becomes hyperaware of the expanding of his lungs when he breathes, the feeling of his heart pulsing in his chest.

He curls his fingers in and out slowly and becomes fascinated by the feeling of the joints moving. He turns and grabs Tucker's hand, and soaks in the warmth of his body heat -- he can't feel it as a ghost. He runs his fingers through his hair, and he can feel the individual strands.

There's a weight when he walks. A small drag when he bends his knee and lifts his leg and takes a step, and when he's been a ghost for too long he stumbles over himself, drags his feet along the floor and stomps when he doesn't mean to because he forgot to weigh his steps. Sometimes when it rains he goes out and sits on the front steps of the house just so he can come back in shivering and soaked through to the bone. Runs his fingers obsessively over the goosebumps up along his arms and legs because he can't get them as a ghost even if he's cold.

Because there are certain things, even when he's in the ghost zone, that are exclusive to the living. The little internal things you don't notice and take for granted. Things like breathing and goosebumps and exhaustion exclusive to running that makes your heart pound against your ribcage and your chest hurt with the need for air. Sore muscles from working out and sweating. Thirst and dry mouths, chapped lips and hands, blinking and dry eye, the feeling of the sun soaking into your skin on a nice summer's day.

As a ghost, Danny faces sensory issues in the form of not enough. When he can't feel the hair behind his ears or the weight in his limbs where there should be muscle, tissue, and bone. He can't feel the sun or the wind, everything is in a permeable state of 'just fine', and its maddening. He can breathe if he wants, but there's no point to it. He has no lungs, he can't feel them expand, and there's no relief behind it. He's going through the motions without any of the reward.

On those days, the idea of going ghost again makes him feel ill. Paranoid. He can't stand the thought. He needs to feel. He needs to feel the soft texture of the rug beneath his feet and the grooves in his knuckles, he needs to feel dirt crumble beneath his fingers and get stuck under his nails, he needs to feel the heat of his sister's hand and the feeling of body warmth passing from her to him. He lays on the carpet room and stretches out, and focuses on the feeling of his heart beating and the weight of his bones and muscles and tissue pinning him to the floor.

As a human, Danny faces sensory issues of too much. When all the things he's starving for suddenly make him sick. He feels trapped in his own skin. His ribs become a cage and breathing becomes a dumbbell that he can't put down. He can feel the hair along his arms and it rashes him. He's too cold, he's too hot. He feels like a ghost puppeteering its own corpse and he needs out.

On those days, Danny dips away when he can and goes ghost, and Sam and Tucker don't see him for the rest of the day. He's gone invisible, intangible, and he does nothing but exist.

Just, him experiencing sensory issues as both ghost and human, but in opposite directions from each other. And the idea that ghosts experience the mortal realm differently, and that there are certain things that are just exclusive sensations for the living that Danny doesn't realize until he's a halfa.

[cookiedough77]

in season 6 we BETTER fucking get argos and chat noir interactions

also this raises a question ive had for like a while, if you have the peacock miraculous its been shown you can sense if something/someone is an amok or a sentimonster

obviously argos is aware of himself, adrien, and kagami

but would he be able to sense chat noir? does having a miraculous on affect it? is agros going to feel the need to investigate first before striaght uo telling him (how adrien finds out) argos trying to find who else gabriel gave the peacock to, (he doesnt care if he finds out who chat noir is)

PLEASE??? CAN WE GET LIKE AN ANSWER???

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[ptieuca]

[ourwhisperingtorment]

SQUID GAME 2 SPOILERS!!!

I find it funny. How people are mad that Junho didn’t reveal the frontman’s identity to anyone. But I also saw a lot of reactors who said they didn’t know Player 001 was the frontman till episode 7. EVEN IF they showed Inho’s face as the frontman in the flashbacks quite a lot of times in the early episodes.

Well, I don’t blame them since I know a lot of people who’s not very good with faces. Sometimes, I’m not very good too 🤷

But imagine if Junho did show Inho’s photo to Gihun but Gihun just. couldn’t. remember 😭😭

Gihun: “You look familiar” 🤔

Inho: “what? I’m certain this is the first time we’ve seen each other.”

Gihun: “no, no… ah, i remember! You really look a lot like Detective Hwang’s brother!”

Inho: *sweating* “oh really? Ahahaha pfft, i don’t have a brother” 🙃

Gihun: “yeah yeah, he said his brother was the frontman. That couldn’t be you, Youngil.”

Inho: 🙂🙂🙂

[moeblob]

What if I straight up didn't explain myself? What if I just said trust me on this? Would you?

[mbat]

i yet again do NOT understand why people think that what happened to steven in future came out of nowhere. the main show beats it into the ground how fucked up all this stuff has him! just cause he ends the main show in a good place doesnt mean that everything was solved! he solved the gem stuff but not himself, that was the whole point!

like. those people show that they didnt even pay attention to the show AND they dont understand trauma. like. shut the fuck up !!!!

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

The world if people stopped applying their understanding of "conservatism" and "religion/christianity" through a very modern, deeply American view onto Death Note (a manga from the Early-mid 2000s which is very much set in the cultural and societal context of early-mid 2000s Japan and all that entails):

[s0fter-sin]

(cw non-sexual kink, cis male tiddy sucking)

nikolai takes one look at ghost - at the stiffness he holds himself with, arms held rigidly at his sides as he glares ahead, each breath carefully measured to make himself unnoticed - and knows it’s been too long since he’s checked on his boy

all it takes is a single look, catching his bruised and tired eyes, and ghost all but slumps. nikolai turns, heading towards the 141’s private rec room and he doesn’t need to hear the near-silent footsteps to know ghost’s following. he pulls him down onto the couch, bringing him into the circle of his arms even as he weakly tries to pull away

“don’t need it, nik; don’t have time…” ghost argues but it’s hollow at best

“hush, sweet one,” he soothes his halfhearted protests and thumbs his mask up above his lips. “always so nervous; so lost...”

he tugs his shirt up, showing off his belly and the heavy swell of his hairy pecs; nipples already pebbled. he cups the back of ghost’s head, his thumb brushing over his exposed jaw and ghost is helpless to follow as he gently leads him to latch onto his breast

“i have you,” he promises

no matter how big he is, in presence or in stature, nikolai is bigger; encompassing his whole body in warmth and safety, the familiar scent of cologne and motor oil filling his senses just as the heat of his tit fills his mouth

ghost’s eyes roll back and he nuzzles deeper into his chest, sinking into him and lets his mind empty as he suckles

-

soap didn’t mean to. he didn’t mean to walk in on something not meant for his eyes. he just wanted to check on ghost; he’s been so distant lately, different from his usual bad days and he doesn’t know how to help him but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to try

but he didn’t mean for this; for guilt and a heated, confused want to chase through him as he enters the rec room and realises nikolai got to ghost first

realises they’re not just necking on the couch; that ghost’s lips are pressed tight to nikolai’s furred breast and not moving away, a gentle hollow thinning his exposed cheeks as he sucks, his throat softly bobbing as he swallows

nikolai’s cupping the back of his head, fingers drifting through the blonde hair at the nape of his neck and he looks so fond; like there’s nowhere he’d rather be than on their broken in couch with ghost curled around his body, sucking what must be a deep ache into his tit.

then nikolai looks up at him, frozen in the doorway and soap-

soap runs

-

nikolai gives soap a few days before he tries to talk about it; gives him a chance to come to terms with what he's seen. it's almost adorable; how deep soap’s flush grows when he sees him, how he stumbles over his words and can’t quite make eye contact

but it also tugs at him that he feels the need to shrink, to brace himself from whatever punishment he thinks is headed his way; shoulders hunching in, arms wrapped almost defensively around his body before finding whatever excuse he can to run from him

run from himself

he wishes he could wait for soap to come to him but he knows lost boys and their fear of coming in from the cold

nikolai keeps himself gentle as he uses his bulk to corner soap; stopping him from running but also using it to show how easily he could hide in him if he just let himself give in. if he let him take care of him the same way he takes care of ghost

"but... but it's wrong," soap whispers, fingers tangling with a gold cross at the hollow of his throat (a cross so similar to one he’d melted down all those years ago), but he speaks with such clear longing; eyes wide where he stares up at him, all but begging to be told otherwise and it almost breaks nikolai's heart

"no, lovely boy," he denies softly and soap shudders as he cups his face and backs him up against the corner; hugged by both walls and nikolai himself. "there is nothing more natural."

he caresses soap's cheek. he feels him shake under his touch, his eyes already growing dewy, and chances drifting his fingers over his bottom lip. soap's breath hitches and he looks up at him with so much fear - so much trust - and hesitantly opens his mouth to let them sink inside

nikolai doesn't press them too deep, doesn't threaten his throat, but they are thick and wide; filling his mouth and comfortably weighing down his tongue

with a small, involuntary moan, soap closes his lips around his fingers and nikolai catches him with his body as he goes limp. he coos as he starts sucking; wrapping his other arm around his head and brings him into his body, hidden and safe and small

"my good, lovely boy," he whispers and soap lets out a cracked whimper. "you are not wrong."

he isn't ready yet, much the same way ghost wasn't ready at first. but feeling soap tremble and suckle at his fingers, nikolai knows he'll soon have another boy tucked safe to his breast