#stubborn identities

[rin-may-1103]

The Disappointment.

This may or may not have multiple parts, depending on whether I feel like writing more. (dcxdp, demon twin au.) also based on some post I read a while ago... can't remember for the life of me who wrote it but if any of you guys do, let me know.

"This way," Mother hissed, snatching Danny's wrist tightly. Damian lagged behind, twisting his head this way and that, keeping an eye out for anyone following them.

"Quick now, we must hurry." She hissed again, her eyes darting back and forth, eyeing the small nicks and scratches she had left previously to lead them away.

Danny glanced back at his brother, watching as he scowled and defiantly lifted his head. His baby brother would die before he allowed anyone to see him defeated.

Glancing back to the path, Danny watched as Mother took down anyone who was in their way, killing without hesitation. As he watched another body hit the floor, Grandfather's muttered words from when he left dinner, ran through the back of his head, "Bring the disappointment to me after sundown. I've seen enough."

There was nowhere in the world they could hide that Grandfather wouldn't follow. They would be hunted for the rest of their short lives, hiding in fear like cowards. Grandfather would not rest until he drew blood.

"In here, Habibi, quiet now. Quickly, both of you." Mother finally let Danny's wrist go, darting across the hall to open the secret door. Danny moved to the side, signaling to Damian that he would keep watch. His brother nodded his head and quickly made his way over, ducking into the small, dark, and eerie corridor.

Mother crouched next to Damian, running her hands over his face like this would be the last time she would see it. knowing her, she probably expected it to be. No one went against their grandfather without severe consequences.

Glancing over his shoulder, Danny studied the shadows; there was a lookout patrol moving closer, which meant they only had a minute before they were discovered. Gritting his teeth, Danny darted across the hall, but instead of joining his mother and brother in the dark corridor, he pushed the wall back, leaving only the missing brick his mother had initially taken out.

"Danyal!" his mother hissed, her voice full of stern panic.

"Apologies Mother, but I can not let you do this," Danny replied, glancing to the side to see how much time he had left. Forty seconds. Crouching down, he picked up the brick and looked back at his mother. Damian stood next to her, his brows furrowed in confusion. Obviously, he hadn't figured out Danny's plan, otherwise he would have started shouting at him.

Mother stared at him for a second, her stern eyes wavering for the first time in Danny's life that he could remember. "Take care of him for me, keep him safe when I can not," Danny asked, grabbing the hood hanging around the back of his neck.

Mother's eyes teared up, but she straightened her back, her black hair framing her pretty face. "You've made up your mind then," she said, her voice low and steady. She rested her hand on Damian's shoulder, giving Danny a nod of understanding. "You are like your father, his love makes him weak."

"But," she continued, kneeling down in a bow, "You are of the demon's blood, it runs in your veins just like mine. Your actions will not be forgotten, nor will they be for nothing. You have my word, tifl alqamar. I love you, Habibi."

Danny nodded his head, unable to voice the thoughts clogging his throat. Instead, he took a silent breath, pulled his hood and mask into place, and shoved the final brick into place. Sealing off his precious family just in time to hear the guards around the corner.

Turning around, Danny silently stalked forward, drawing his shoulders back. The group rounded the corner and stopped, watching him in anticipation. Pitching his voice just slightly to the left and rolling his tongue, Danny spoke in a neutral voice, "take me to grandfather."

The two guards in front shared a look, but the ones in the back straightened up and moved aside. Marching forward, Danny passed the two hesitating guards and with a quick slice, brought them to their knees. He needed this to work, there was no room for mercy, no matter how much he hated it.

"I am the grandson of the demon head, you will respect me as you respect him. there will be no next time." Danny continued walking, pretending to not care if the two managed to follow or not. the remaining guards trailed behind him, silently observing him.

Danny was glad Mother had insisted on them matching today. otherwise, his plan would have failed long before he made it to his grandfather's door.

Stopping in front of the painted carved wood that was grandfather's door, Danny idly studied the carvings and statues around the grand hall. He remembered all the stories of how grandfather had collected them over his lifetime; grand stories of bloodshed and cunning manipulation.

His eyes settled on the one farthest away, with the least interesting story. It was considered ordinary, placed next to art worth billions. But it was Danny's favorite. It was a simple green crystal, carved like a crescent moon.

so simple, yet the most beautiful piece in Danny's opinion. He had always hoped he would die beneath the stars and his ever-faithful friend the moon. Maybe, instead of beneath them, he could die amongst them.

He would take it with him, he decided.

Turning sharply, Danny marched over to the small pedistal and plucked the crystal into his hand. Wrapping his fingers around it, he shoved it into a side pocket and returned back to his position.

They only had to wait for another minute before the door opened, grandfather's servants clearing a path for Danny to walk through.

"I see your mother did not drag you away," Grandfather mused, sitting in his large chair. His dark eyes studied Danny's form, taking in the katana on his back, and the hood and mask concealing his face. He was dressed like he would for a mission; no discernable features, no sign of who he was or wasn't. The perfect image of an assassin.

"at least you aren't a coward," Grandfather hummed, standing from his seat. He slowly pulled out his own katana, aiming it at Danny in a challenge. "no, just disappointing. but you are my blood and that earns you the right to die an honorable death. Draw your sword child, and fight like the warrior you are."

Danny bowed like he had been taught, then without another moment of hesitation, drew his sword and lunged.

He wished he could say it was a drawn-out battle of strength and minds, but it was not. for Danny was only ten years old, and his grandfather had hundreds of years of training and discipline behind him.

he gazed up at his grandfather as his knees hit the ground, his katana dropping to the ground as his hand reached up to the sword impaling his chest. Grandfather's eyes were filled with nothing but contempt, contempt for the useless boy he had just sentenced to death.

but his contempt did not bother Danny, no instead it drew a smile to his face. As much as Grandfather lorded his sharp mind over them, he had never been able to stop Danny from surprising him. So, with a burst of adrenaline, Danny allowed the small shuriken he hid in his sleeve to drop to his left hand and buried it deep into his grandfather's chest.

grandfather lunged back, pulling his katana with him, removing the only thing keeping Danny upright. Danny's body hit the ground, and with the last of his strength, he twisted his head so he could listen as his grandfather cried out in anger.

Grandfather's breath was heavy, the sound of him removing the dagger filling the silence. the shuriken was dropped to the ground with a sharp clatter, falling just a few feet from Danny's face.

"you," Grandfather huffed, "aren't such a disappointment after all. I'll grant you one last honor and keep you in the family tomb. Rest now, Damian, you have fought well."

Danny smiled, the cold feeling of blood loss crawling through his body, but not fast enough to block out the pressure of the moon crystal still in his pocket. He hoped Mother had gotten Damian out in time, and he hoped Damian could forgive him for what he had done.

[zorosroronoas]

don't get me wrong, i get where elrond is coming from 100% & he's not completely wrong, but i feel he's being beyond inflexible & what he said about galadriel only being interested in saving the ring is frankly not fair. like, push comes to shove the elves are pretty much being forced to wear the rings so they can remain in middle earth to protect it & honestly, what's the alternative for elrond? to leave middle earth behind in sauron's hands? círdan told him to stand by his friends & help guide them, instead of turning his back on them, & he's not really doing that so far, he just keep condemning them (galadriel) & it literally led them into a trap.

[ginneke]

Birds, Watching

last-second @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt.

(Did a throwaway quip from Penn about 'little bird' sources need to turn into anything? Maybe it didn't, but oh well, it has.)

—

Sparrows made for terrible sentries. They spent more time squabbling with each other than they did keeping an eye on their surroundings.

Alas, sparrows were what he had to work with, since the crows had turned traitor for nothing more than the promise of food. While they still made more than enough noise to raise an alarm, befriending the target was the last thing he'd wanted them to do. (He'd parted ways with that particular flock after winter struck particularly harshly, frozen ground driving them in search of milder climes. But he stayed. He didn't have anywhere better to go.)

He'd tried others after that, but hawks were too solitary to tolerate his presence. Herons were standoffish and, frankly, rude. Doves, on the other hand, were a lot more sweet-natured -- and helplessly naive. They made for good company if he overlooked their simple natures, but half the time, they didn't even notice the Hylian climbing the cliffside. Revali usually had to scare them off before making his own hasty retreat.

It had been years. Why was that guy still trying to come after him?

The sparrows continued to bicker. The latest pointless turf war over a prime section of shrubbery—what did it matter if someone stood on the branch you'd claimed as your own? did that really warrant several minutes of shouting about it—came to an abrupt stop. One began to pipe a danger call.

Revali came alert at once, scanning the path for whatever the birds had seen as they rose in a fidgeting cloud and scattered into the trees. A threat to sparrows wasn't necessarily a threat to himself, but... Though he scanned every shape and shifting shadow that crept in the undergrowth, there didn't look to have been anything to spark such alarm.

Perhaps he should have looked up. The Hylian crashed through the treecover on a contraption of cloth and wood. Revali scarcely had time to understand what his eyes were seeing before the collision. They went over in a tangle of limbs and feathers. He yelped and kicked and struggled, but the element of surprise gave the Hylian an undue advantage.

"Caught you."

"Get off me—"

"Come home."

This again. Revali didn't have a home. Revali didn't even have a flock. He stopped struggling, and the Hylian let him up. He retreated to the other side of the glade, letting Revali scrape together the shatters of his dignity.

"...Come home, Revali."

That snagged on something he didn't care to think about. What was there to go back to? An empty shelf of rock on the cliffside which hasn't seen an inhabitant in years. At least here he had company, even if the sparrows were vapid and annoying.

"How long are you planning to keep this up?"

"Until you're ready." 

At least he didn't say 'remember' like last time.

"And then what?" Revali was tired of this. He was tired of being hounded to remember something that would never come back.

"Home can be people, too."

Link would probably be better at keeping watch than sparrows were, he thought. That, and that alone, led him to say, "...Only if you can keep up."

The Hylian—Link—smiled lopsidedly, as if taking Revali's words to heart. How foolish of him. Revali smirked, grabbed his meagre possessions, and—

The ground shrank away beneath him, and Link shrank with it to a pinprick. Something of the sight tugged on familiarity. For the first time in years, he laughed.

If Link caught up again, then this time he would. ...If not, he could always try to find another flock.

Maybe starlings, this time.

[st-peculiar]

Thinking about Ted singular from midnight burger podcast.. what a guy

[fearoffun]

why are people being so rude about US miku's and refusing to acknowledge that the US is literally super diverse and rich in culture........ 😭 if cities/provinces/regions in other countries can vary vastly from each other, what makes you think that cities/states in the us can't be the same??????? also you do realize that the word culture can be basically defined as a way of life belonging to a social group right...? everyone just decided to be xenophobic as fuck for no reason lol

[avionvadion]

For someone who’s writing a fic centered around Sesshomaru x OC I sure do like to put Inuyasha under a microscope to prod at his brain to figure out what’s going on in there.

(Anyways, here’s my favorite paragraph from Inuyasha’s POV from the most recent chapter.)

"He knew what it was like to lose a loved one. He knew what it was like to lose someone he thought he could trust. He knew what it was like to love and not trust, and to have that love and distrust thrown back in his face. He knew what it was like to love and lose, because he had done it several times before, and each time was more painful than the last. His entire childhood was spent running and hiding in fear, trying desperately to stay alive, because all he had known had left him and the world was intent on getting rid of him too."

(Also an excerpt from Sango’s POV because I love her and there’s something very important near the end of it.)

Lifting her gaze, Sango turned to stare at Inuyasha again- the boy chancing a glance at her out of the corner of his eye, over his shoulders. To the demon slayer, who had been informed how badly Sesshōmaru had treated him in the past, and had seen them fight at least once, Inuyasha looked like a frightened dog.

He was afraid.

Not for Irene, who- deep down- he knew was alive, but of the idea that Sesshōmaru had somehow changed. The person he despised more than anything, perhaps even more than Naraku himself.

Sango remembered all too clearly the way Inuyasha had lashed out at Irene before when she said she didn’t hate Sesshōmaru. When she said she had actually felt safe with him. The idea that Sesshōmaru could have had a change of heart, and was no longer the ruthless demon Inuyasha grew up with- grew up avoiding, grew up trying to survive against- was… terrifying to him. It was like the world he thought he understood was coming crashing down around him.

Because if Sesshōmaru’s heart actually changed for the better, if he was actually going out of his way to save Irene- Inuyasha’s friend- then that meant Inuyasha would have to feel gratitude towards him. One of his best friends would be alive because of the half-brother that had so-often wanted him dead.

But… that doesn’t erase the past.

Sango wonders if Inuyasha realizes that. If he knows that, just because Sesshōmaru has the capacity to care now and even cares about one of their friends, it doesn’t mean the scars of the past will vanish. Inuyasha is still allowed to hate him. He’s allowed to hold a grudge.

Sesshōmaru had been awful to him.

Just because there will be gratitude to the demon lord for saving Irene, that doesn’t mean Inuyasha has to forgive him.

“Inuyasha…” The bloodied mask felt heavy in Sango’s hand, but she didn’t set it down. Her features shifted into something gentler, yet still so very sad. “It’s okay.”

The half-demon said nothing.

“It’s okay to hate Sesshōmaru.”

His feelings are completely valid on this matter. Forgiveness is a gift, not an obligation, and Inuyasha does not have to give it if he does not choose so.

[daz4i]

ik it's not good to latch onto a mental illness as your defining trait but also. babe i don't have much else going on or any other sense of identity beyond it

[freakinator]

its been 7 hours in the poll so far and i saw the who ppl want to win coming but i wasnt expecting the who they think will win ngl, like i was expecting it to be a little more even but nope lol

[sammygender]

there’s also the obvious dimension that well. dean’s whole life is built around this tiny family unit. him and john and sammy. even if it ruins him, even if it’s toxic and abusive and codependent, it’s who he is. it’s who all of them are!! then sammy leaves. sam leaving is selfish! not in a bad way, in a way where it’s an intensely brave act of self-preservation that must’ve required so much strength to pull off! but that idea of selfish as at all ever being good….... well. dean cant even comprehend that. not when he’s so thoroughly invested in this decades-long act of Dean Winchester, big brother and soldier son and surrogate wife. not when he feels like nothing and has no real sense of self at all. how dare sam be selfish etc etc is basically asking How dare sam even have/try to take ownership over his own identity and his life since when was that a thing that happened…….

[herearedragons]

A non-exhaustive list of possible alternative endings for Devil of Caroc:

the Watcher is a cipher; they use their mind reading abilities to download Devil’s maintenance routine directly from Galvino’s brain and then teach it to her

same as above, except the Watcher (any class) uses their soul reading ability to watch the moment from Galvino’s past when he came up with said maintenance routine

the Watcher is and/or knows a brilliant mechanic; they reverse-engineer Devil’s maintenance routine and then teach it to her

a restored Abydon offers the Watcher a boon as thanks for helping his restoration; the Watcher asks him to bless Devil’s body so that it wouldn’t rust. Optionally, Abydon empathizes with the experience of being stuck in a metal construct and also gives her the ability to sense/smell again.

same as above, but Abydon straight up turns her back into a flesh and blood human, mirroring his own restoration

[razreads]

When someone has decided who you are, and they won't let you change their mind, what are you meant to do? Where is left to go?

Caleb Roehrig, Teach the Torches to Burn

[firewolf111]

Anyone else have a limb that decides to suddenly be stubborn?

Like, sometimes my knee decides it just doesn't wanna bend. Nothing physically wrong with it, I can still bend it. I just have to focus on bending it because my brain is dumb and decides I shouldn't.

Might just be me. But yeah, my knee is stubborn sometimes. Brain says, "No bending for you" and I just say "screw you".

(I mean, it also likes to ache. But that's irrelevant)

(If this is called something, feel free to let me know)

Anyways... Have a good day/night. Drink water, eat food and get some sleep.

Love y'all. Peace <3

[charulein]

Gods, I'm so emotional about Venat,,,, I cried during the cutscene after you complete the mothercrystal ;^;

[criminal-sen]

How many pipes and wires in an art is too many pipes and wires??? Trick question>:3

[phagodyke]

weekend melancholy is starting to kick in >~<

[brbuttons]

We finally got Atticus to give someone else front, thank heavens. He's been fixated on deadlines and friends visiting, but he's been more and more mentally exhausted as he's gone on.

So it's Alice now. Hopefully. I often don't hold front for long these days. But I can certainly attempt.