#the dark secrets I know

[inkskinned]

we were sitting on the floor and i was cutting out tiny pictures to make a collage for a friend's birthday. you were on your phone and you laughed about something, and i was still in love with you then, so i asked what had you giggling.

"sorry. i was just..." you took a moment and went back to texting. "i was telling someone about how you're afraid of the dark."

i'm afraid of the dark because something bad happened. "oh." i felt a little slinky of shame crawl down my throat.

you glanced up, and maybe it showed on my face, because you rolled your eyes and held the phone to the side casually so i could see the group chat. "what? was it a secret?"

i looked down to the scissors in my hand. "i just..." no, it's not a secret. it just felt like something private, something serious. saying why would you tell someone that just feels like an accusation. it's unfair. i honestly am not even ashamed of it, it's just a fact about my person that i don't usually share.

what a strange experience. is this a human thing or a generational thing? for our grandparents: did they need to worry about how quickly someone can just... share your personal information? again, i didn't even really have a true objection. what could i say? i want any person in my life to feel they can be honest with their friends. it's not like i said don't tell anyone this.

i cut out another letter to complete the rainbow happy birthday, started hunting for the exclamation mark. i heard you sigh dramatically.

"don't make a big deal about this," you said.

this entire conversation was a pattern for us, and this was when we got to my least favorite part of the pattern. i would get my feelings hurt in some oblique not-technically-terrible way, and then it would be making a big deal about something. you'd get frustrated for me for being soft, but i was born soft. you knew i was soft when you pierced me. it's one of the things that made controlling me so easy.

"i'm not," i felt my voice crack. the question came without my wanting. "why are you guys talking about me?" and why are you saying that thing? why not like - i'm telling them how you're generous and kind and pretty.

you let out this low, tragic groan. "oh my god." you tossed the phone away from your body. "there, see? i just won't talk to them if you don't like it."

the rest of the hour went the way it always went, between us: i said i don't actually mind if you talk to your friends but -, you found a way to call my minor expression of discomfort "being dramatic." you got upset that i had been offended. i ended up apologizing, even though i hadn't actually done anything.

afterwards, you picked up the phone again. after texting for a little bit, you snorted. "okay," you said, "but it is kind of funny you're afraid of the dark. i mean, when you think about it."

[braisedhoney]

okay but can you imagine—

[thevoidstaredback]

Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

[dandelioncolour]

I experimented a little bit with Danny's look. There are head canons like space obsession and ghost king staff~

[puppppppppy]

(guy who has never played cotl) haha au time

[kacievvbbbb]

honestly you would think Rayleigh gave birth to shanks the way they are just exactly the same person right down to their alcoholism, penchant for scheming love of sandals and other generally horrible fashion items.

In a world where Mihawk meets Shanks first, he later goes to challenge old man Rayleigh and it all starts to click into place. like "oh you're the reason I'm stuck with that" point to Shanks wearing an outfit a pattern blind person put togther.

[kaynineacademy]

every. page. that. i. wrote. you. were. on. it.

[dentpx]

It’s just such an amazing scene because he takes so many precautions to make sure his outfit won’t get bloody and then 90% of the blood ends up on his face

[densewentz]

more dreamling dad au bc thats just what i do now apparently i like lazy afternoon naps and so do our boys

[abusivelittlebunny]

Plsplspls what is the photo you're art is based off of!! (Also your art is so tasty good)

You can just see Charles' brain running a hundred miles an hour seeing their size difference and how fucking dainty he feels in Carlos' hands I mean at this point the fic writes itself. That hand is not only on top of his thigh its reaching in, ready to part his legs manually because Charles was made to be manhandled, he's like a little doll, a fucktoy, a pocket pussy of course he needs to be moved however Carlos wants him-

"You're good there, cariño?" Carlos' chuckle breaks him out of his stupor and he blinks up, breathing deep and eyelashes fluttering like he has just been submerged under water.

"Hm? Ah, y-yeah, yeah, I'm good, completely." He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the embarrassing squeaky quality to it that comes from fantasizing a bit too much, hoping Carlos wouldn't catch on to his dirty thoughts but behind his sweet Labrador smile Charles can make out something... dark. Knowing. Almost as if he personally sprinkled perversion onto his brain like fairy dust.

"Good, aren't you? Good. You are a good boy." One could use the language barrier as an excuse for either of them phrasing things in a silly or even embarrassing manner in English, God knows they both have done so a million times, but the way Carlos' voice dipped low in almost a purr would make anyone halt and gulp. Charles certainly did.

If Carlos' voice and darkened gaze didn't, the squeeze to his thigh certainly made him be on high alert and question the innocence of the situation. It's not like Carlos never touched him before; he was quite touchy on average, always holding Charles by his waist or hips or curling one of those large hands around his nape or bicep or wrist.

Of course it made Charles flustered, he's been wondering what Carlos' dick down his throat would feel like since day 1 but Carlos couldn't have known about the effect he had on him, right? Charles wasn't that obvious. Right?

The large tan hand on his thigh slipped more inwards almost seamlessly as the car took a turn and if Charles thought Carlos would rectify his mistake, he was certainly in for a treat because Carlos instead used his grip to pull him closer, dragging him over as if Charles weighed nothing.

"Why so tense, cariño? I thought you were good? C'mon, baby, relax." Carlos pulled his entire leg over his own, spreading Charles' thighs wide and he had to carefully hide his crotch with his hands to not put the obvious source of his tension on display. Carlos was holding the leg in his lap with both hands now, massaging the inside of his thigh with one, the other stroking his knee as if he was some pet. "Nervous, are you? It's okay, baby, it's been a stressful season. I can help you let loose when we're back in the hotel, hm? Sounds good?"

Oh good God. Charles was not going to survive the journey with a sane mind, and Carlos definitely knew.

[sovamurka]

crime city jinx x psychic detective ekko

[veinsfullofstars]

“Can’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

(ID: Kirby series fanart of Dark Meta Knight, bust shot, covered in bloody spatters that drip down his armor, half-draped in a deep red shadow that bleeds in lines down the background. He glares at the viewer through the tilted visor of his mask, a single, manic-wide eye glowing gold in the shadows, an unusual orange slit pupil slashed through its center. He holds one hand up before him, gloveless, bloodstained, curled into claws as if he’s just ripped it out of something. END ID.)

Started 11/14/24, finished 11/16/24.

[the-unrivalled-pessimist]

crying real tears

[queeringclassiclit]

Victor Frankenstein & Henry Clerval

from Frankenstein by Mary Shelley

[b0nelessdoodles]

was feeling the sad beige mom in my soul tonight so had to doodle a her 'cause its a crime i don't draw more mystic flour tbh

also have my dumb message to my friend about it

[roukabi]

Kristen Stoat-wart. get it. get it. Stewart. Stoat. Stoatwart. Hello. Hello is there anybody out there