#the lurking skills are insane

[chrollogy]

i’m so sorry i had the urge to annotate like i do with physical books so here’s every unsolicited thought i had while reading the written part 😭 (if one can even read my writing [please don’t, they’re useless thoughts])

THE MANEATER CHAPTER ONE: club classics

masterlist

divider credits to roseraris

For fifteen minutes every night, she gets to take off her headphones, sneak out the staff-only exit, and smoke a cigarette on a cracked-up old milk crate. And even though she can still hear her pre-determined, carefully crafted playlist taking over for her pulsing through the brick walls, it's the only moment of quiet she has all night.

So it makes sense that new bouncer showed up to ruin it.

She groans at the sight of him, dramatically, exaggerated. She rolls her head back and kicking her feet. "Oh my god," she whines, "why are you here? Go somewhere else."

He doesn't validate this little outburst of hers. He just leans against the brick wall opposite to her, and blocks the breeze from blowing out his lighter with a cupped hand until the end of his cigarette is cherry red. She watches him with a lip furled in distaste as he straightens out. "Easiest place to get away from a bunch of drunk people for fifteen minutes, so you're just gonna have to put up with me," he tells her, smoke billowing from his mouth as he speaks.

"Well, you're fucked because there's a bachelorette party in there that keeps buying my green tea shots," she says, voice laced with faux sympathy. "So I'm trashed."

He scoffs. Iwaizumi. That's his name. She recalls it in the instance he flicks off ash with the tip of his thumb. She thinks he's pretty, and immediately after that she thinks she'd rather cut off her own tongue than admit that. "You're a fucking peach, you know that right?"

"Truly one of the sweetest out there. So are you going to apologize to me now?"

Iwaizumi flinches. "Apologize for what? Doing my job?"

She gives him a forced smile. "Well if you were doing your job, you'd probably know better than to stop and interrogate one of your new coworkers."

"Okay," Iwaizumi concedes, giving a forceful nod of his head. "You're right. I'm sorry I didn't realize that you're an egomaniac who thinks everyone should know who she is because she hits shuffle on Spotify for a living."

"Oh so that's your bit?" she bites back. "That's like your thing? You think you're better and cooler than everyone around you because you think things like club music are beneath you? Because what? You listen to like Kings of Leon or something?"

Iwaizumi scoffs. "I'm a big Kendrick Lamar fan, actually."

She rolls her eyes, and puts her cigarette out on the pavement beneath her. Her fifteen-minute smoke break has been ruined. "Predictable," she grumbles, standing to her feet. "I gotta get back to my job before Spotify decides to put Smart Shuffle on. I hope a drunk person pukes on you."

extras!

noya is also a bartender at the maneater! there are others who might pop up from time to time

sakusa established a rotating schedule on who's job it is to go do a coffee run since none of them ever wanted to go and get coffee on sunday mornings

yn does not always drink during her sets but sometimes when club goers buy her drinks she indulges

if kiyoko makes them she waters them down

yn drew iwa on the back of her receipt from the coffee shop

iwa was just like "wait who's akaashi"

their hatred for one another was immediate and it's like they've been hating each other their whole lives <3

taglist: @wyrcan @thechaosoflonging @bedeater @deluluforcarlos55 @localgaytrainwreck @cherrypieyourface @eclecticeggknightpsychic @httpakkeiji @does-directions @needtoloveoutloud @causenessus @kawaii-angelanne @thatonecroc @v1oletfury @lonesomedrive @nnnyxie @guitarstringed-scars @nbcvs @garfieldissocool @iheartpinky @mollyrolls @yogurtkags @yuminako @michivrse @19calicos @sunnyskiezzzz @bailey-reeds @staileykout @loverlunaire @iluvaquaphor @lllaw @alpha-mommy69 @acowboykisser @karasyuu @aquariarose @torkorpse @wave2mia @southernfrogprincesd @mfcherry (temporarily opening taglist, complete this form to be added)

[nyxi-pixie]

anyway skk's acting skills saving the world and also dazai saying they used to fake shooting him in the head all the time??? pm era skk did undercover missions tgthr CANON.

[sunderwight]

Cumplane where Airplane, in a fit of either bravery or insanity or positive or negative self-esteem (he's not totally sure) decides to cosplay as Luo Binghe and post the pictures online.

Of course, he doesn't do it as "Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky", he knows he has some questionable fans and doesn't really want to hand them a picture of his face. So he posts the images under one of the pseudonyms he uses for lurking around the comment section and social media tags. It's just a handful of images of him looking like the protagonist in his head, attempting to strike cool poses in a wig and some period clothes (he rented both).

The reception is... mixed. Airplane does not have abs, after all, nor a flawless complexion or much skill with makeup. He is fat, freckled, and awkward. The PIDW readership is not known for being particularly supportive either. In fact they're mostly a crab bucket of negativity and masculine posturing, so he gets a lot of mean-spirited commentary.

It's fine. Nothing he hadn't expected. Really solidifies for him that posting was a fit of madness, actually! What did he even expect? He's bracing himself for the worst when he sees that Peerless Cucumber, notorious hate-reader and defender of Luo Binghe's honor, has commented. Ah, shit. He's probably going to rip into Airplane for daring to sully his precious Binghe's reputation by dressing up like that, isn't he?

The comment is long, too. Fuck. Airplane's not sure if his self-esteem can take a comprehensive beating from the champion hater himself, but he's too curious not to look.

Shen Yuan, in the meanwhile, is just pleased that there has FINALLY been a Luo Binghe cosplayer who looks the part. Of course Luo Binghe wouldn't have exaggerated muscles, those are just a product of dehydration. Binghe spent most of his disciple years running around chopping wood and hauling laundry, and then later doing whatever he could to pack on the calories in order to make it through the Abyss. A hefty workman's build would only make sense for him, anything else would be nonsense. Airplane also described Luo Binghe as having a beautiful face, which Shen Yuan won't blame most cosplayers for not being able to just make happen, but a beautiful face doesn't mean "covered in so much makeup it looks like an anime character"! When would Luo Binghe have the time or inclination to put on makeup? A natural beauty with some inevitable blemishes would make more sense and be much more appealing, and this "Airplane Crashing to the Ground" (funny play on the author's name, Shen Yuan approves) has very pretty features! Everyone hating on this cosplay is just an idiot, the only actual problem is that his wig is poorly fitted.

So in true Peerless Cucumber fashion, he lays this all out.

This gets him embroiled in arguments with several other fans, who even accuse him of actually being the guy in the photos, claiming that there's no other reason why he would defend them. Shen Yuan doesn't care if people think that's him, because that's still the best Luo Binghe cosplay he's ever seen, but he doesn't want them doubting the sincerity of his arguments. So, he decides that the only reasonable thing to do is dress himself up in cosplay as well and then post the actual photos of himself.

While he'd like to dress up as one of Luo Binghe's allies like Mobei Jun, or maybe someone cool like Yue Qingyuan, he is too pedantic to think he could pull that off. Those guys are all strong warrior types, and Shen Yuan is a scrawny pale rich kid who looks like he'd probably lose a fight with a wet paper towel. The only characters he could plausibly pull off would be some of the more consumptive members of Binghe's harem and maybe, maybe, one of the weaker villains like Shen Qingqiu.

Shen Yuan is NOT posting pictures of himself crossplaying to the central nexus of toxic masculinity itself, so... Shen Qingqiu it is!

Poor Airplane has to go sit and stare at a while for a while. Peerless Cucumber likes his cosplay. Peerless Cucumber, ardent defender of Shang Qinghua's sellout crappy main character mary-sue, thinks Airplane is good-looking enough to cosplay as him. And said so. Repeatedly. And then posted borderline thirst-trap villain cosplay of himself, inadvertently revealing in the process that he is hot.

What the. What. What?!

Anyway, Shen Yuan suggests that they attend the next convention both cosplaying together because Airplane Shooting Towards the Sky is supposed to be doing a meet & greet at that one, and wouldn't it be fun to go as a pair? And Airplane agrees before his brain catches up and he realizes that might present a problem.

[ohodie]

SECOND THAT

luke castellan x reader

★ “i’m restless, i’m wrestling with the song that you love, it’s been stuck in my head”

ABOUT - luke castellan is the only one at camp who sees right through your perfect and poised persona; and all he wants is the satisfaction of ruining it.

WARNINGS - smut, mentions of choking, both the reader and luke are TERRIBLE but luke is much worse lol, swearing, written from the perspective of a deranged luke, penetration, only loosely proofread.

A/N- i have NEVER written and posted smut before EVER. like i get close but i never go all out. so… no hate guys 😘 also i feel like this is a bit ooc for luke so just pretend he’s actually insane and terrible guys!!! if you ignore his incoherent ramblings, it’s PWOP sooo… anyways this might be the first and last time i ever write smut who knows

luke castellan is no amateur when it comes to pretending to be something else. growing up, the only thing that mattered to luke was receiving praise or recognition for being ‘great’ or ‘honourable’ or whatever.

when you live your whole life pretending to be a perfect person, you kinda start to believe you really are a perfect person.

and if everyone you meet also believes you are indeed a perfect person, what’s the harm in continuing to pretend?

at the end of the day, both parties gain something. you get the validation and acclaim that you truly deserve, and they get a role model they aspire to at least halfway resemble.

luke is the sweetest guy at camp- everyone loves him. and he deserves it, doesn’t he? he deserves their praise and love and respect. gods, he should be rewarded for pretending to be so admirable for so long. he’s entitled to it.

you, on the other hand? you don’t. you don’t deserve an ounce of the praise luke has worked so hard to receive.

to luke, you’re vermin. behind your polite smiles and sweet words, there’s darkness. there’s an evil lurking within you- he’s sure of it.

he sees it during early morning sparring sessions, watching from the wings while you tactfully dodge every attack that comes your way. and when you eventually falter, he sees how your eyes turn cold and your smile fades.

he sees how you take a shaky breath, brushing yourself off with your bony hands before flashing a toothy grin. he feels nauseous when you extend your arm out to shake the hand of your opponent- because how the fuck can they believe your little act?

your gentle kindness and bashful charisma is so obviously fake. of course, he’s not pissed that you’re acting; everyone at camp is acting to an extent. but you’re going all out, and he can still see through it. what pisses him off, is that nobody else seems to recognise how truly malicious you can be.

maybe it’s because you’re pretty. luke is no stranger to getting special treatment based on his appearance, and neither should you be. maybe that’s the whole basis of your appeal. it seems to be the only thing holding your pathetic little facade together, considering your sloppy acting skills.

if you were ugly everyone would be able to call out your bullshit straight away, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about sharing the spotlight. honestly, the only reason why everyone loves you so much is because half of them want to fuck you, and the other half want your attention or approval- not that it’d be worth anything.

it was the last week of spring, meaning only the year-rounders and a few of the older kids were at camp. you just graduated high school, and arrived at camp early.

of course, you just had to return to camp prettier, taller, more confident, and with a fancy college acceptance letter. maybe you were much smarter than you let on- but it became very apparent that your intelligence wasn’t the reason you got accepted into NYU once he learned what you were studying.

“oh, i’m getting a degree in art history,”

seriously? art history? that’s gotta be the funniest thing luke has ever heard in his entire life.

“really? why art history?” he asks politely, watching your every move as he awaits your dumbass explanation.

you shrug cheerfully, looking around at the few other campers scattered around in a tight-knit circle as they wait for you to tell them about your ‘lovely’ 18th birthday and ‘eventful’ senior year.

“i don’t know, my mum works with a lot of artists, so she said it’d be a good conversation starter,” you say cheerfully, as if it wasn’t the stupidest thing to ever exit your mouth.

luke can’t help but let out a little giggle, before instantly lowering his head to offer some non-verbal apology. but to his surprise, you laugh along. “yeah, i really wanna score a job at the MET or something. i don’t mind either way,”

luke nods politely, letting the conversation continue without interrupting with a snide comment or unsolicited laughter.

he plays along as the conversation continues, pretending he doesn’t want to grab you by the throat and push you against the wall, demanding you to confess. demanding you to tell the fucking truth; that you’re a manipulative sycophant who’s bound to end up in rehab for getting addicted to designer drugs.

why is he the only one that sees you for who you truly are? gods, if he knew any better he might be charmed. you were naturally picturesque- or at least you seemed to be. the way that you were sitting on the grass with your hair draping over your body; you looked gorgeous. but you always look gorgeous, that’s your best quality after all.

of course all of camp half-blood was fooled- you were to pretty and kind to be lying. maybe it was better to let them keep on believing that you were this perfect image of a girl.

but he’d still appreciate the satisfaction of seeing you for who you are- seeing you in your rawest form.

and then suddenly, he saw it. some athena girl asked you if you wanted to go on a run with her later, to which you politely declined. of course, you kept your composure, told her that you had to take a nap, offered her a sympathetic smile and a ‘maybe next time’. but she didn’t see the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head as soon as she looked away.

luke was astonished. you really were getting sloppy, huh?

and yet, nobody else saw it. nobody else saw the look of disgust on your face as soon as she finished talking. he was seething- how on earth could everyone be so blind?

luke looks around at the group of people surrounding him, his eyes darting back to you ever 5 or 10 seconds. they all look at you with awe- as if you’re the most precious thing on earth.

fuck that. he was going to put you in your place.

a few hours pass, and it was finally time for everyone to walk back to their cabins.

luke spots you walking alone to your cabin, your face dimly lit by the moon as it shines over the camp. he’s so overwhelmed with anger, he couldn’t fathom caring about the consequences of whatever situation he was about to put himself in.

he quickly catches up to you, meeting your walking pace as he shoots you a friendly smile.

“hey, y/n. you got a minute?” luke asks, still adorning that charming smile. you smile back at him, nodding your head ever so gently, as if it would fall off if you moved it too fast. like a rusty elvis bobble head bought 1976 that resides on the dash of your grandmother’s busted car.

“yeah, why?” you hold your hands behind your back as you walk beside him, slowly approaching your empty cabin. luke shrugs his shoulders. “oh, i just had a little question. mind if we talk in your cabin?” he asks.

you nod, opening the door for luke and letting him walk through. you close the door behind him, before leaning your back against the wall. luke stands in front of you, his cheery demeanour vanishing as he crosses his arms.

“why the fuck are you such a little bitch all the time?”

you furrow your brows, mirroring his posture as you cross your arms defensively. “excuse me?”

luke rolls his eyes, letting out dry laughter as he looks you up and down. “you heard me,” he adds, watching you anxiously begin to pick at your lips with your freshly manicured fingernails.

“do you have a problem with me or something?” your whole body feels tense as you continue picking at your lips, your eyes locked onto his.

“yeah, i do have a problem. i’m tired of your little ‘nice girl’ act. it’s getting fucking annoying,” luke scoffed, taking a step closer towards you. your eyes darken, before shaking away your hostile expression.

“are you sure you wanna do this right now, castellan?”

“is that a threat?”

you pull your fingertips away from your lips, shifting your weight to the other side of your body as you cross your arms once more. you let silence fill the room before finally speaking up.

“listen, luke. everyone pretends to be someone they’re not. you and i just tend to do it more than others-“

luke cuts your off, taking another step forwards. “fuck off, we are not the same.”

you roll your eyes, banging your head against the wall as you groan irritably. “so what? are you gonna go around spreading cheap lies about me now?” you ask tiredly. luke shakes his head, slightly shrugging his shoulders.

“nah.” he replies curtly, his voice blunt and expression vague. “mkay, then what the fuck is your problem?”

luke takes another quick step forward, tightly holding your chin in his hand as he lifts your head to face him. “you’re my fucking problem.”

you let out a dry laugh, staring into his eyes as you attempt to intimidate him. “you’re such a loser.” you whisper, refusing to fight back against the way he’s gripping your face.

he stays silent, biting his lip as he looks over your form. “and you’re a brat.” he retorts.

“are we just going to keep throwing insults back and forth all night, or are you gonna explain why you’re so obsessed with me?” you ask playfully, cupping his face in your hand as an attempt to patronise him.

luke is stumped. to be fair, he is entirely obsessed with you. and he has been for years now. and now he has you cornered, watching your weak attempts at asserting dominance over him.

luke was over it.

suddenly, luke leans in, harshly pressing his lips against yours. you retract your hand from his face, pressing it against the wall as you feel his body moving towards you.

he wraps his other hand around your neck, only gently gripping it as to not alarm you.

luke is surprised by how you sink into his grip, pulling away to see your closed eyes and swollen lips. when you wipe your mouth and look at him with those hauntingly innocent eyes, he’s almost fooled.

you scoff, smirking as you tear away from his grip and take a few steps back. “is that all you wanted?” you say confidently, watching him turn around to watch you carefully pace around the room.

he shakes his head, groaning quietly as he walks over to you once more.

luke purses his lips, trying to suppress any sense of genuine attraction to you. but when his eyes gaze over to your red lips and flushed cheeks, he can’t help but let his mind wander.

“if you’re done, you can leave, castellan.” you say irritably, leaning against your bed frame.

it goes straight to his dick when you call him that, especially when your voice sounds so hoarse and cocky. he feels as though he’s finally accomplished what he’s been yearning to do for years now. he’s seeing the real you.

he couldn’t dare squander this opportunity now.

he pushes you down onto your bed, watching how your hair flows over your newly made bedsheets as your head hits the pillow.

“but you don’t want me to leave, do you?” luke says lowly, hovering over your body as his hand hold your wrists together above your head.

“i don’t care what you do, castellan.”

luke groans, pressing another rough kiss against your lips. you kiss back for whatever reason, and your firsts relax within his grip. it was almost as if you got off on the idea of someone calling out your bullshit. or maybe you got off on the idea of somewhat hating your guts. either way, luke knew you were more than eager to continue.

he let go of your wrists, before biting your bottom lip. your mouth opens slightly, offering entry to his tongue, deepening the kiss.

you hand cups his face, while the other grips his shoulder. after a few moments, he pulls away and begins sucking at the skin of your neck, leaving purple marks on your delicate skin while you let out hoarse whimpers.

his hands begin to fiddle with the fabric of your shirt, causing you to push his body forwards as you position yourself to sit on his lap. you take off your shirt, throwing it away as you run your hands down his back.

luke looks down at your chest, growing more aroused at the sight of your lacy little bra. it’s as if you knew someone was going to see it.

you feel a hardness growing from under his jeans, poking against your upper thigh as you slowly grind against his lap. luke let’s put a low moan, continuing to bury his face in your neck.

“i fucking hate you,” he growls, gripping the sides of your waist with his hands as you move against him.

“don’t care, take off your shirt,” you demand hurriedly, running your fingers through his hair as you tilt his head up to look at you.

luke rolls his eyes, before taking off his shirt. he quickly presses another series of harsh kissses against your neck, fiddling with the clasp of your bra as you push your chest up against his. you giggle softly at his incompetence, before he finally unhooks it and ravenously pulls it from your chest.

luke pushes your body backwards onto the bed, trailing kisses down from your neck and onto your tits. you let out a quiet moan, before biting down onto your hand in order to stifle the sound. his large hands knead your left breast, while the other grips the area just under your right breast, resting on top of your ribcage.

luke’s hands slowly move downwards, hip thumb tracing circles against the side of your hip as you gently grasp onto his hair. his fingertips gently pull down your shorts, leaving you in only your underwear.

he rubs his thumb over the wet fabric, before tilting his head to look up at you. “pathetic,” he mutters, smirking at your flushed faced. you groan, burying the back of your head further into the pillow as your back arches involuntarily.

luke’s thumb massages your clit from over the soaking fabric, watching you squirm in response. he lets out a dry laugh, before pulling down your panties and tossing them onto the floor.

“luke…” you moan quietly, closing your eyes as your hips jerk into the mattress. his fingers trace your wet folds, before letting his thumb rub circles against your clit and forcing two fingers inside of you.

you whimper before pursing your lips, rolling your head around as he slowly pumps his fingers in and out. he quickens his pace, pressing down harshly against your clit while beginning to suck on the skin of your upper thigh.

luke holds down your hip with his free hand as you begin to squirm.

suddenly, he stops.

you look at him with a confused expression, your face red as he pulls his fingers out. he chuckles at your disappointed face, before taking off his pants and boxers. you stare at his length unashamedly, biting down on your bottom lip.

“so fucking needy.” he says lowly, his voice horse as he softly begins to continue massaging your clit. you moan, feeling your back arch as he positions himself in front of your legs. he forcefully spreads them open as he teases your folds with the tip of his erect member.

you let out a little whine, your voice trembling as you try to move your hips against his length.

luke rolls his eyes at your poor attempts at penetration, before slowly pushing his cock into your entrance. you let out a breathy, high pitched moan, your hands eagerly gripping your bedsheets.

he gradually pushes in the entirety his length, continuing to rub circles into your clit. luke tightly grips your waist as he begins to slowly pull out, before jamming himself back in. you let out a breathy yelp as you body moves with his thrusts.

like continues relentlessly pushing in and out of you, massaging your waist as his thumb gradually increases the speed of its attack on your clit.

you try to steady you breathing, your face flushed as lukewarm continues to deliberately overwhelm your body.

“mm… luke, i’m gonna…” you mutter, your hips jerking upwards. he smiles at you, amused by how blissed out you look taking his cock. “so soon?” he teases, rapidly moving against your body.

you let out a stammering series of whimpers as your back arches upwards, feeing yourself suddenly release. luke grins, continuing to rub circles into your clit as he rides out your orgasm.

luke slowly retracts his thumb, repositioning the hand to gently grip your hip. he begins to slow down his movements, before quickly thrusting into you repetitively. you squirm, the movements of your hips constrained by his grip.

suddenly, he pulls out, releasing onto your stomach. see? he was a gentleman.

luke gazes over at the girl he just reduced to a panting mess as he stands up and puts his clothes back on. he smiles at you as he zips up his jeans, before kneeling besides you as you turn your head to look at him.

“i wont tell anyone how fucking pathetic you are, don’t worry, princess.”

you nod, staring at him as he continues to look at your defenceless body. “such a pretty girl,” he hums, cupping your face in his hand before kissing your forehead.

he reaches over to your discarded underwear and gently pulls them up your legs, the gesture acting somewhat as a peace offering. he takes a step back, simply taking in how endearingly stupid you look.

you slowly sit yourself up, grabbing your camp t shirt and putting it on. “goodnight, luke,” you choke out, your voice hoarse and breathing shallow. he nods, smiling softly as he turns to walk away. “night, princess.”

[itsswritten]

Threads of Hazel

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 3.6K

Warnings: Angst, blood, gore, injuries, hints of death.

Summary: A mating bond can connect those who have not even met, but can it save them too?

All that welcomed you was the cold, splodges of darkness filtering in your distorted vision.

Time seemed to stretch and contract in the void, a dizzying whirl of uncertainty. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? Perhaps even longer.

No one was coming.

Why had you dared to hope? 

It was that gentle hazel glow that danced behind closed eyelids that had stirred within you. A glimmer of something that felt worthy of holding onto. Something to believe in.

But it must have been a trick of the mind, a cruel illusion born from the depths of insanity. 

No one was coming. No one ever would.

Maybe it was time to give up.

Time to surrender to the abyss, to let go of the tenuous thread that bound you to consciousness. As you teetered on the edge of oblivion, a fleeting sensation brushed against your senses, a whisper of familiarity.

You could smell it, faint and distant yet unmistakable. 

Night-chilled mist and cedar. 

It was that scent again. But like a wisp of smoke on the wind, it vanished as quickly as it had appeared, leaving your senses grasping at shadows in the void.

Another wicked false sense of hope. Your mind must be creating delusions as it comes close to its end.

No one was coming.

It was time to let go.

***

This was the last location. And then they’d go home. 

Finally.

Azriel straightened his posture, rolling back his shoulders with a weary sigh. His wings unfurled and then tucked in against his back. He felt anchored, weighed down, by the silent burdens he was carrying. Even his shadows were slumped against him, as if they were also affected by his fatigue.

Azriel was utterly exhausted.

Despite Cassian's concerned pleas for him to stay behind and rest, Azriel couldn't bring himself to heed them. The ache in his bones and the weight of exhaustion pulling at his limbs were nothing compared to the thought of letting Feyre and his brother face this mission alone. 

He was Spymaster of the Night Court, he would fulfil his duties regardless of his own welfare. Regardless of the demons that weighed on him.

But these demons of his, had been plaguing him for months. Clear in the dark offset look of his gaze, and the purple shadows that sat beneath his eyes– he was a tormented soul. 

The aftermath of the war had etched its scars deep into Azriel. It was a sensation he was all too familiar with, the fallout of anguish and slaughter, had always defined his life. But in recent months, his demons seemed to be haunting him more fiercely than usual, their whispers echoing in the silence of the night.

For months, Azriel had been plagued by a recurring dream, a nightmare he assumed. Because as much as he tried he couldn’t recall the details. Each time he would wake from the depths of his sleep, finding himself drenched in a clammy sheen of sweat, his chest heaving attempting to draw in air as though a claw was clenched around his lungs. 

But that is all that would linger.

A feeling, no memory of what had caused this reaction within him. No clue as to why his body shivered in fear when he woke. 

It was a maddening cycle, the dream hovering just beyond the edges of his consciousness. Clearly haunting in nature and yet elusive. Each day felt like a puzzle with a missing piece, the memory of something crucial lurking just beyond reach.

So close, and yet not close enough. And it was driving him mad.

In a desperate attempt to break free from that grip, he tried avoiding sleep altogether. Yet, that feeling persisted. A restless energy coursing beneath his skin. It was relentless, a constant reminder– that he was forgetting something of importance.

And that feeling terrified him. Azriel had always known most, metalicus with his gathering of intel and information. Skilled in deciphering most people and their thoughts. But his own mind had him at a loss. He was no Spymaster of his own consciousness, simply a male who couldn’t sleep because of a nightmare.

Feyre, Cassian and Azriel had embarked on the final leg of their scouting mission. Despite the passing of time since the war's end, new pockets of Hybern loyalists still cropped up. The three of them were tasked with weeding out any lingering enemies. They had arrived at the last location Azriel’s intel had unearthed. A manor house on the skirts of the borders, had whispered rumours to be a base for some Hybern stragglers.

Derelict and crumbling, the building seemed to sag under the weight of its own deterioration, its once-majestic features now reduced to a skeletal framework of crumbling stone and splintered wood. The scars of fire marred its surface, meaning any valuable pieces of information that might have once resided within its walls had long since been burnt. Nothing but charred remnants and ash laid in their wake.

They had been too late, but they still had to check nonetheless. 

"All clear from up above," Cassian announced, his voice cutting through the silence as he landed beside Feyre, who had just reentered what remained of the foyer. She had meticulously scouted the left wing of the building, while Azriel had taken the right.

"Clear here too," Feyre confirmed with a nod, her eyes scanning the dimly lit space for any signs of danger.

Azriel soon joined them. His part of the search had also yielded no immediate threats. Cassian stood beside his brother, kicking some burnt debris with his foot while mumbling that it was a shame Hybern’s men had burnt this place. That it was such a waste. But Azriel wasn’t listening. 

Running his rough hand down his face, he let out a heavy sigh. A very clear tell that he was not okay. Something Azriel never showed. But he could feel it again, under his skin. Pinching at him. Something faint in this chest, weighed and sliced, only to subside to a dull ache.

He felt uneasy, as he had for months but there was something about this place that had shaken a deepness within his gut. Even his shadows fluttered nervously around him.

Maybe he would need to see Madja when he got home. Or maybe even relinquish his pride, and ask Rhys for help.

“Let’s get this checked over quickly, and then head home. It’s been a long mission,” Feyre spoke softly, offering both males encouraging smiles as she gestured towards the back of the building. 

Feyre’s eyes settled on Azriel, giving him a reassuring look. For a moment Azriel almost let her in, he had noticed the concerned looks and touches his family had given him. Growing more and more these recent weeks. Instead though, he nodded softly following the pair into the back room. 

They descended down grand stairs, into the lower levels of the house. Each step he took echoed through the empty remnants of the building, every move feeling heavier and weightier. They were hit with a chill when they reached the bottom. In the absence of natural light, Feyre conjured small orbs of illumination, casting soft, flickering light that bobbed across the dark space. The feeble glow revealed crumbling walls and decaying remnants of furniture, similar to what they had seen upstairs. 

The air was heavy with the scent of decay and mildew, but there was something metallic that lingered.

Blood.

They could smell blood. And there was something else too. Perfumy and chemical.

Faebane. 

Tensions rose as they all hesitated on their weapons, Azriel’s fingers gingerly hovering over Truth Teller as they stepped deeper within the space. Azriel's shadows flickered and swirled around him, their movements erratic and unsettling. They sensed something lurking in the darkness, something that sent a shiver down his spine.

There was this haunting apprehension washing over Azriel as if he had been here before. He couldn’t quite place it, couldn’t quite pinpoint why he didn’t feel like a stranger in this room.

As though he had been here many times before and yet this was still his first time here. That gnawing began deep in his gut again as his fingers gripped at his dagger.

He heard Feyre gasp loudly, before his eyes quickly scanned to see what her light had revealed. 

A figure, barely recognisable in the dim light, hung limply from chains fastened to the wall, body gaunt and ravaged by torture. Steel rods protruded from flesh, each one coated in the deadly poison of faebane, its sickly scent permeating the air.

Feyre's hands flew to her mouth in horror, her eyes wide with disbelief and revulsion. "Is she..." her voice trailed off, unable to voice the question that hung in her mind. She had to stop herself from gagging, as the contents of her stomach threatened to spill up her throat.

Even Cassian, veteran of countless battles and witness to nearly every injury imaginable, could not conceal the grimace that tugged at his lips. They all took a moment to absorb the sight before them, Azriel remaining motionless as he processed the scene. The sensation from earlier still persisted, but now intensifying as Azriel's gaze fell upon the steel rod protruding from the body's chest, a sharp pang jolting through his own.

Azriel staggered, overcome by a sudden wave of agony that seized him, breaths ragged and uneven. Feyre moved swiftly to his side, her hand offering comfort as she implored about his well-being, but his attention was elsewhere.

He wasn’t listening to Feyre, he was listening to his shadows.

Alive.

They were pulsating beside him, waiting for his orders, waiting to be released, begging to be released.

Azriel clutched his chest, mustering his strength to stand straighter, the pain subsiding for now as he took a hesitant step closer, 

Alive, alive, alive.

They whispered frantically this time, their urgency desperate.

Then Azriel saw it. The faint rise and fall of your chest, the subtle rhythm of your heartbeat still persisting against all odds.

Azriel's breath caught in his throat, his mind struggling to process the sight before him.

How? How were you still alive?

He wasn't the only one to notice. Cassian, wasted no time in springing into action, his voice commanding as he instructed them to release you from your chains, to get you the urgent help you needed. Both Feyre and Cassian, mentally calling to Rhys to be ready with Madja.

But Azriel was frozen in place, his senses honed in on the fragile thread of life that still clung to you. Time seemed to slow to a crawl as he watched, his chest constricting with an overwhelming emotion.

He remembered. 

The sight before him wasn’t new. No, he had seen this. Seen you before. Felt this way every night for months. 

It was you whom he had been forgetting when he woke, the haunting echo of your desperate pleas vibrating in his mind. As he watched your body slump to the floor, freed from the chains that had bound you, Azriel struggled to push back the flood of visions that threatened to overwhelm him.

Visions of you, screaming, pleading for someone to help you.

Begging him to come save you.

How could he have forgotten? Your cries had pierced through the darkness, reaching out to him night after night.

A plea for salvation had rippled down the thread that seemed to connect you.

That thread.

That power that had subconsciously been connecting you both for months began to hum. Louder and brighter than anything Azriel had ever felt before.

It was a realisation, a confirmation to what he had been feeling for all that time. The golden warmth finally settled under his bones, consuming all his senses.

The mating bond.

You were his mate.

Something that was supposed to be so cherished, felt incredibly bittersweet as he watched your near dead form be pulled into Cassian’s arms.

He could feel your pain seeping through the bond, in fact that is what he had been feeling all those weeks. Your suffering leaking its way down to Azriel. Your pleas reaching him in the depths of his sleep.

He had a mate, finally.

And yet when he pulled gently on that faint thread that linked you to him, he could feel it fading.

Maybe he was too late.

***

A bright white light filled your vision, its touch lining your body slowly.

It was time. You were ready.

But just as you were on the brink of surrender, a golden warmth surged forth, wrapping around you like a protective shield. It tugged at you, pulling you back, refusing to let you go.

Not now, not yet. It spoke.

You resisted, clinging stubbornly to the edge of oblivion, but the pull of that hazel glow was undeniable.

Let me go. It hurts. I want to leave. Your soul cried towards the glow.

The hazel glow called out to you with a familiarity that stirred something deep within your soul.

I won’t let you go. Not now, not now that I have you. 

You couldn’t understand. You heard no voice, yet you felt every word.

I need you to fight, for yourself, for me, fight harder than you ever have done and I promise, after this, you will never have to fight again.

Why those words had some sway over you, you weren’t sure. But when your senses filled with that comforting scent you had smelt every night for the past months. It tethered you, anchoring you in the physical realm once more.

You could smell it again, night-chilled air and cedar.

You would hold onto it one last time.

***

Agonising screams filled the air as you writhed in pain on the makeshift table. Your body contorting, fingers clawing desperately at the gaping wound in your chest. Even in the dim light, Azriel could see the blood, thick and crimson oozing through your fingers as you had lurched up when Cassian had pulled the poison coated rod from your chest.

They had managed to remove some while you were unconscious, but the pain of this one, deep in your chest, had yanked you awake. How you were still alive none of them understood. Your injuries and body filled with enough faebane to kill a dozen fae. 

Your vision was still distorted. Just one of the injuries that ravaged your body. Only blurry shapes and figures filled your sight, and the lack of that sense only added to your fear. You couldn’t see who you were with, and although they didn’t sound like your captors, you didn’t know them. Didn’t trust them, and they were hurting you.

Even if they repeatedly told you they were helping you, their touch just brought more pain.

Madja flitted around Cassian, her hands hovering over the faebane-drenched wounds in a futile attempt to heal. Azriel stood at the head of the table, crouched down close as he firmly held one of your arms down. His shadows fidgeted uneasily around him, reflecting his inner turmoil. He had witnessed countless horrors in his life, some inflicted upon himself, but seeing his mate in such agony was a new level of torment. 

Feeling the pain trickling down the bond was tearing him apart.

“Stop, stop. Please…” Your plea was raw, your voice strained and hoarse from the agony that wracked your body. Azriel shuddered at your tone, your voice an echo of the nightmares that had haunted him for endless nights. 

He remembered it all now.

Each night, stumbling through darkness, trying to follow that golden bond to you. To your calls for him. And each time, he tried to figure out where you were, how to get to you, how to save you only to forget everything when he woke. His memory of you slipping through his fingers like sand. 

“Rhys, there must be something you can do,” he pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation as he looked over your pained expression.

Feyre had diligently wiped the blood from your face, revealing slashes across your eyes. Remarkably, Madja seemed optimistic about their healing potential, though it was contingent upon your survival. He could feel your fear rippling down the bond, how frightened and in pain you were.

“Azriel…my power, I can’t penetrate her mind. The faebane has saturated her body, creating an impenetrable barrier,” Rhys responded. “I’m sorry brother…I’m truly sorry.”

Azriel couldn’t contain the small whispered sob that escaped him, his hand flying to his mouth to stifle the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm him.

When Cassian had carried you from that dark basement, Azriel had acted on instinct, snatching you carefully from his brother's arms and holding you close. He whispered into your ear, a litany of apologies for not finding you sooner, for the pain you endured. He begged you to fight, to hold on for him. And had clung to that faint glimmer of hope as he returned to the safety of the River House.

Rhys had prepared a table for Madja to work on, but neither of them had anticipated the extent of your injuries.

Azriel had laid you on the table, still unconscious as he nervously watched Rhys and Madja try their best. Cassian and Feyre joining them moments later to help. 

It was then they had all realised.

He was fussing over you, whispering frantically and his shadows had been skittishly tracing over your body and injuries. So unlike the usual calm and collected Spymaster.

Rhys had pieced it together first. Simply stating She’s your mate into Azriel’s mind. Although it was clear by the heartbreaking expressions on his family's faces, they were all aware of the significance you held.

Azriel felt helpless, he couldn’t lessen your anguish, couldn’t heal you, couldn’t do anything.

Your sobbing started again, while you writhed under their strong hands. Pleading for release. Instead, they responded with reassurances and hushed whispers, and there was one voice in particular that washed over you in a familiarity you didn’t understand.

You fought against them, resisting their attempts to restrain you, but they were stronger. Another wave of agony rippled through you as they worked to remove one of the steel bars embedded within your flesh.

“Focus, Shadowsinger,” Madja's voice cut through the turmoil, her gaze landing on him firmly.

“The best course of action is to remove these rods and then attempt to drain the faebane from her system. Her resilience is remarkable, but she won’t survive much longer without intervention.” Madja was speaking directly to Azriel now, he took a second to look down at you crying on the table. Cassian and Rhys holding you down, while they calculated removing the next impalement. 

Madja continued, “If you want to help her, comfort her, support her.” The instructions were clear.

Feyre spoke then, glancing between your pained form and then to Azriel. “Use the bond Az, she needs you.”

With hesitation, Azriel’s rough hand found yours. Holding it tightly. Grooves and lines were etched into his weathered skin, speaking of his own past battles. Instinctively you wanted to recoil from the stranger's touch, but as you felt another pull on your torso you clutched down on his hand tightly. Another sob racking through you.

You felt him close to you now, his presence enveloping you as his warm breath brushed across your face. He was close to you. But you couldn’t make out who he was. Only a blurred version of a male with tan skin and dark hair. His other hand grazed your cheek, offering you a comfort you hadn’t felt in months. 

“I need you to fight just a little longer,” the voice was deep and warm, there was something about it or maybe it was the words he had chosen that felt familiar. 

“It hurts..” you whispered, another sob leaving your lips.

"I know, I know it does...but not much longer, okay? And then you can rest, I promise," he reassured you, igniting a flicker of hope within you despite the overwhelming pain.

Then Azriel pulled gently on the bond sending ripples of reassurance and comfort down the link. So much that he hoped to drown any pain out you were feeling.

You felt that golden warmth fill your chest, that same feeling that had pulled you from the white abyss many times before.

"It's you..." Your voice choked with emotion, the realisation dawning upon you.

Azriel stood there, uncertain of how to respond, but he watched as you turned toward him, your brows furrowed in concentration. Though your vision remained distorted, blurred colours danced before you, and amidst the haze of black and deep tan, you saw it—the faint glimmer of hazel.

"You came for me..."

"Always..." Azriel's voice cracked with emotion, his unwavering commitment laid bare.

With the last of the rods removed, your body bled profusely. Madja urged caution, while Feyre urgently advocated to cauterise the wounds. But with this amount of faebane, they grappled with the best course of action. Their voices melding in a flurry of noise.

A soft, sad smile graced your lips, your hand reaching out to touch the figure before you, feeling the contours of his cheek beneath your fingertips.

Blood began to fill your mouth, the red liquid seeping through your smile. The bitter taste staining your words. Azriel began to shake his head, clinging to that fading bond with all his strength. With a pained slowness, he felt your hand slip from his cheek, leaving a blood-stained print upon his skin.

"You were real..." Your voice was barely a whisper now, breaths shallow. "My thread of hazel."

a/n: ngl I don't love this lol, doesn't feel like my best work but sometimes it's better posted than perfect! I had originally planned for this to be longer, but writers slump has me in a chokehold so this is all I managed! Anywho, hope you enjoyed the angst! <3 - Lottie Forever tags: @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @milswrites @amberlynn98 @marscardigan @illyrianbitch @lilah-asteria

[madamechrissy]

=͟͟͞♡ Healing Hearts =͟͟͞♡ - Part seven preview

Dr. Gojo x intern reader- don't read if you haven't read part Six

Mdni- suggestive, kissing, teasing

 “Why do you have to look at me like that?”

“Like what, sweets?”

“Like all… intense and 'Gojo' like.” He snorts now, easing back his hand, leaning in the chair and looking up at you.

“Hard not to look at you.”

“These eye bags turning you on?” You tease, sitting back down, his hand comes to brush your lower back, making you gasp just a bit.

“Anything about you makes me insane.” You bite your lower lip, looking down at your lap, barely able to function around this man. “Especially love that shampoo you washed your hair with last night.”

“Strawberry really gets you going hmm?” 

You both laugh a bit then, so much unsaid and unknown lurking between you however, creating this… tension that’s so palpable.

“If you need me… you could utilize me you know.” You blink then.

“Utilize?”

“Mmhmm. Utilize my skills on your anatomy.”

“Jesus, Satoru.” He watches the color spark on your cheeks, smirking outwardly, but inside he’s dying for you, for any of you. “You think what, we could just… there’s no way.”

“If you need me I’m yours.”

“No chasing after infinity stones? At all?” Your eyes narrow a bit, assessing his face, which is far too serious for his teasing tone.

“None at all. I’d let you use me.” Your mind whirls, you shake your head quickly, sipping on your coffee, making your tummy flip with his images.

“You’re insane. Use you?”

“Mmhmm. Any way you wanted to. You work hard, you know.”

“I’m out.” You stand now, as he chuckles at you, mischievous little shit again, but you know there’s so much more, and his pull is irresistible. It’s not like you don’t know better, and it’s not like you’re giving in, but the idea of… cumming for him? You suddenly feel so hot you can’t take it.

He stands now too, walking with you to the elevator, god this elevator, where he stands too close, where his eyes get lidded, the first place you kissed. “Thoughts going through that pretty head?”

“You’re annoying, that’s the thoughts.”

“Hmm. And damaged.”

“Definitely.” You agree, earning his snort of amusement, as he turns and steps to you, backing you up until you’re against that elevator wall, his free hand on your waist, thumb brushing up, making you shiver. “You’re suggesting I what, fuck my frustration out on you? Where’s that lead?”

“I’d take any part of you, sweetheart.” His desperate words are your undoing, you yank him down, kissing him then, it’s desperate and messy and full of desire, before you pull back, as the elevator stops, and Satoru feels your heat against his thigh, pressed between yours.

“You’re the most toxic man.” You huff, shoving at him and stomping out, Satoru leans against the wall, head falling back, when you’re back inside, your coffee and sandwich not even in your hands somehow. The doors shut again, and you’re pressing the highest floor, shocking him. “You’d really just… get me off?”

“Oh I’d let you fuck my face any day baby.” You kiss him again, like a dam breaking, when he’s all over you, picking you up in his arms, your thighs are against his hips, making you grind eagerly as he groans, hand against the wall, holding you up as he nips your lower lips, pressing harder against you. Your cry makes your head fall back, his lips kissing up your throat.

“Fuck you, Satoru.” You grumble, gasping when he grabs your ass, pressing his cock against your eager cunt.

“Lemme make you cum.”

“Here!?”

“No… m’office…lemme feel her pulse around me, fuck.” You whimper then, breaths coming quicker and quicker.

“It doesn’t mean we’re good, though. I’m still m-mad. Just…”

“Be mad, but let me drink you.”

“Goddammit, ugh.” You’re eased down, dizzy as he presses the button to your floor, you try to compose yourself. “You’re infuriating.”

“I know.” Is all he says, softly now, brushing your hair back. “Meet me on break.”

He walks out and you’re shaking, he’s practically beaming, this ass of a man that you can’t stand, but also… love and want. Know he’s got issues out the ass, but fuck you want him, and could it just be sexual? You severely doubt it, not with how you feel as he kisses you, the energy altogether, but your pussy throbbing around nothing is trying to infiltrate your better judgement.

What a day it’s going to be.

“Someone just left a sandwich and coffee. Yum.” Maki says, her and Yuuta have split it in half, you can’t stop the laugh, an insane peal of laughter that makes half the hospital stare at you.

You’re losing your shit, aren’t you?

Tagging everyone I know read last chap so I don't spoil anyone not caught up!! -@cuntphoric @msniks @kiaraandrea @chiyokoemilia @moncher-ire @loafteaw @miizuzu @nanasukii28 @jjknanamin @jkslaugh97 @wstaley2 @airandyeah @suguruscousin

There's still lots of angst and shit but the next chap reader thinks with her coochie I'm sorry but... we all would. But don't mean they're good YET lol!!

[ninjasmudge]

YOOOOO CULT OF ELYSIUM LETS GOOO!!!

very pretty art style, drama is real, flock is neat and makes me wonder what other facets are different from the human can opener. Crown being horrible necktie turned up to 11 on violence and bound to the lamb is funny even if only for interskill arguments. Narinder looks so cute! shivers would be insane and whatever cult based espirit de corps exists will probably be so done.

sorry to everyone who doesnt want to read all that, but to everyone else: my chart 🥰

i didnt redo all of the skills on the first post, cause it took me several days to work all this out lmao. a lot of the skills are similar, but i think thered have to be some differences.

flock, that you mentioned is their version of esprit de corps, which i think is extra funny that it talks about narinder because it implies to me that lamb thinks of nari as a work friend for the start

shivers is replaced by the lurking beast, in the og game its connection to the city, but to lamb its more like listening to their animal instincts about the lands that belong to them.

visual calculus isnt really something i think lamb would have, so instead they have grimoire which functions similarly but enables them to pick up, understand, and work out magic.

text under cut

YOU - "Crown, what are they thinking about me. Narinder said you have to tell me."

THE RED CROWN - THAT IS NOT HOW THIS WORKS.

LOGIC - Okay so… we read their minds ourselves. We might have to be close to someone to do it.

VOLITION - We probably shouldn't just grab someone and stare at them until we learn how to get into their head though. It will scare them.

GOD COMPLEX - We can do that if we want. We can do anything, we're god!

GRIMOIRE - If this power is like the others, it should come pretty easily. It's unlikely we need eye contact.

FINE TOUCH - So we hide around the corner of something, read someone's mind from behind all sneaky-like.

GOD COMPLEX - And then we kill them if we dont like what we hear!

LOGIC - Killing someone in broad daylight? We'd definitely lose faith from that.

SHOWMANSHIP - But god, what a message!

OG SKILLS

LOGIC

ENCYCLOPEDIA

RHETORIC

DRAMA

CONCEPTUALIZATION

VISUAL CALCULUS

VOLITION

INLAND EMPIRE

EMPATHY

AUTHORITY

ESPRIT DE CORPS

SUGGESTION

ENDURANCE

PAIN THRESHOLD

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT

ELECTRO­CHEMISTRY

SHIVERS

HALF LIGHT

HAND/EYE COORDINATION

PERCEPTION

REACTION SPEED

SAVOIR FAIRE

INTERFACING

COMPOSURE

LAMBS SKILLS

LOGIC

ALMANAC

RHETORIC

SHOWMANSHIP

THE TEMPLE

GRIMOIRE

VOLITION

GUTS

EMPATHY

GOD COMPLEX

FLOCK

PUPPETMASTER

ENDURANCE

PAIN THRESHOLD

VESSEL

ELECTROCHEMISTRY

THE LURKING BEAST

BLOOD THUD

JUGGLER

PERCEPTION

REACTION SPEED

RETRIBUTIONIS

FINE TOUCH

COMPOSURE

THE RED CROWN

[o0sleepingdead0o]

Prepared for Anything Pt. 5

Part 4, MasterPost

Danny debated with himself if he was a bad person or not for letting this go on. He watched one of the crooks, Sack-head, (probably the boss of all these other goons) squeeze a few drops of a misting, green liquid into a beaker and swirl it together like the most dubious cocktail Danny had ever seen.

But. . .Danny was the only captive in this warehouse (with so many lab safety violations even his parents would make some changes) and could he really be considered a captive if he could escape anytime? It was so lucky for that raccoon guy(his eye bags were almost as bad as Danny’s when he’d been fighting ghosts nearly two days straight) that Danny had annoyed Sack-head enough that he’d kidnapped Danny instead of raccoon guy.

. . .Danny was bored. . .

. . .

And maybe hoping Orphan would show.

Anywho, he did not like the look of that syringe being dipped into what could only be poison(right? It was poison, right? It was glowing ominously, like ectoplasm met magical sewer water, it had to be poison). What was he planning on doing with that? Should Danny have destroyed this place as soon as he got here? But he’d been bored and curious and slightly anticipating Orphan’s arrival, that he’d left it alone. 

Hmmm. Sack-head was coming towards him, laughing like the insane cartoon villains he and Jazz would watch as kids. The really annoying ones.

Danny didn’t do needles.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to act, and he sat back comfortably in the chair he was chained to as shards of glass sprinkled onto the concrete floor below. Vigilantes descended from the ceiling and windows with such coordinated timing, that they just had to be teammates with earpieces or something.

Danny’s face lit up with a smile as he caught sight of Orphan nailing a guy in the head. He might’ve swooned just a little. Sack-head, ever a cliche villain if Danny’s ever seen one, called “Get them!”

Danny settled in to watch.

The warehouse exploded in noises of gunfire and fighting. With Danny at one end of the warehouse, he only saw the vigilantes a little with goons blocking much of the view, but he could tell the bats were holding their own. Their skills far outclassed the goons, but the goons had numbers and so the fighting went on.

It was Orphan he spotted in the rafters a couple minutes later, sneaking closer to him, and he couldn’t help the grin he flashed up at her. She was wearing a mask and he couldn’t tell if she returned it, though he’d like to think that she did. One of her soft smiles that hid a cunning and a perceptive mind, shifting eyes, taking in every detail of body language, knowing things he was saying without him having to say it—

He needed to get himself together.

She was moving even faster now, reaching for something in her belt—

There were pointy things grazing his neck.

Danny will be honest. . . .he’d known Sack-head was coming for him, probably to give the bats an ultimatum like he was doing now, threatening to. . .poke(?) Danny with his gross claws if they didn’t back off. . .but he’d. . .he was having too much fun playing damsel in distress, okay?! This was only the second time he’s seen Orphan in weeks, and as soon as this situation was cleared up, she’d be gone again, and he, admittedly, wanted to drag this out as long as he could. Even if only by a couple of seconds. It was bad. He knew this. . .but what else was he supposed to do when the source of his affections was right there, lurking in the rafters like some beautiful goddess of darkness and death? She was perfect and he didn’t know until he’d met her that someone could feel so right. 

He could take just a couple more minutes, he’d make sure no one got hurt(severely), it was fine.

Currently, the vigilantes were frozen. Besides Orphan, there was a big guy all in black like a goth vampire, Bruisy, Spoiler, Jason(AKA Red Hood), Red Robin, and the little one with the sword. He was so adorable. Like a vicious, blood-thirsty, snooty, little duckling with anger issues.

“Hey, guys.” Danny said to the frozen vigilantes, smiling good-naturedly to let them know he was okay. “Been a minute.” He gave a little wave, startling Sack-head.

“Wh—What happened to your chains?! Nevermind, not important right now.” He mumbled the second part to himself. “Surrender!” He ordered the vigilantes who ground their teeth and reluctantly dropped their weapons. Sack-head had his goons restrain them and soon they were bound on the floor.

Danny internally winced. Okay. Maybe he should stop this now. . .

. . .

But no one had noticed Orphan in the rafters. And he would really prefer not to out himself as not completely normal. He’s done an amazing job, he thinks, of helping out where he can without showing his powers. The vigilantes don’t suspect a thing. He’s just a regular dude who just happens to come across them sometimes with useful objects to help them out. Yes, totally normal.

“You! Watch the kid!”

One of the goons came and stood nearby, finger on the trigger of a gun, and barrel pointed at the floor. The claws slid away from Danny’s skin and Sack-head stalked to the workbench where he’d been playing with chemistry.

“Uh. . .Boss?” One of the goons said nervously. “Shouldn’t we. . .ya know. . .leave? They could have back-up coming.”

“In a minute.” Sack-head snapped. “The experiment will be ruined and I’ll have to start from scratch if it’s disturbed!”

Danny glanced to the bats who were either watching him, Sack-head, the goons, or assessing how to get out of the situation. Danny caught glances of Orphan moving above, but didn’t chance looking up in case the goons caught on.

“Whatchya buildin?” Danny asked cheerily, much to the aggressive Teletubbies’ continued astonishment. 

Sack-head grumbled. “Shut u—“ Sack-head paused when he whipped his head to him. “Where did you get that?”

Danny threw another popped kernel in his mouth and jutted his thumb at the goon standing guard over him. Said goon looked bewildered, casting his gaze around and pointing to himself questioningly. Danny nodded. 

“What ar—don’t feed him! He isn’t a guest!?”

“Gave me this water too.” Danny said before taking a sip from a plastic water bottle.

“What? No, I didn’t—“

Danny hummed disappointedly with a shake of his head. “Tsk, tsk, dissent in the ranks.”

“Boss! I didn’t—“

“Figs! You’re taking over for Gertrand!”

“Yes, Boss!”

Danny waved goodbye to a distressed Gertrand as his place was taken over by Figs. Popcorn crunched loudly between Danny’s teeth as he smiled broadly at his new guard. He held out his tub of popcorn. “Want some?”

Figs stared at him for a moment. Glanced back at Sack-head who wasn’t looking. And shrugged. As he reached in, Danny gasped loudly, quite convincingly, and pointed at the other end of the warehouse. “What’s that!?”

It was too easy. Every head turned and Danny pulled out a grenade and threw it. Smoke  exploded out, billowing across the floor and thick into the air. The next moments happened fast as the vigilantes had already freed themselves and had been watching for an opportunity. Orphan dropped from the ceiling. Bodies became obscured in the smoke, the sound of them thudding to the ground between fists exchanged and shouting. There were several screams. When the smoke cleared, the vigilantes were cuffing and knocking out the last of the goons. Sack-head was thoroughly bound and lying on the dirty floor.

He spotted Orphan cuffing a guy and he grinned wide, getting up from his chair and making his way over. She straightened when she saw him coming. He raised a hand. “Hey—“

Black suddenly obstructed his vision and Danny halted, looking up at the large man. “Hi. Nice. . .horns?”

He heard someone snicker. The goth vampire didn’t react at all.

“Who are you?” The guy gravelled and wow, Danny’s sort of worried about the guy’s throat. 

“Danny. Nice to meetchya. Water?” Danny pulled a sealed bottle from behind him. “You sound like you need it.”

Spoiler burst out laughing.

“Last name.” The guy grunted out and Danny frowned. The bottle lowered when the guy didn’t take it.

“Ya know, it’s common curtesy to give your name back.”

He wasn’t sure why the others kept laughing. The goth vampire didn’t say anything for a long minute.

“Oh my gosh! I can’t believe you still don’t know who Batman is!” Spoiler was leaned against a wall, cackling like her head might fall off. “I’m so glad I came.” She swiped a tear from her eye.

A hand appeared on Batman’s(?) arm. Danny turned to Orphan with a big smile.

“Hey!”

“Hi.”

“Uhh. . .nice to see you—Y’all—uh—All of you. . .”

She nodded.

“Orphan—“

“Shush.” Orphan shushed the man with a pat on his arm, not straying her eyes off Danny and he shifted a bit on his feet. “Friend.”

Batman grunted. Apparently that meant something cause Orphan said “Stop” and stepped forward. Danny stepped back to make room for her.

When he spoke again, Batman’s voice came out a tad deeper and agitated. It was hard to spot. 

There was something familiar about the way Batman postured. Danny looked him up and down, trying to figure it out; the crossed arms, the vaguely intimidating looming, the angry scowl like Danny had run off with his daughter in the middle of the night—

“He’s an un—“

“Ohhhhh!” Danny realized with a finger. “You’re her bat-dad.”

The laughing stopped. The vigilante’s masked eyes blew wide.

Ha. Danny was right.

He restrained himself from reaching out for a handshake. He had a feeling Batman wouldn’t take it.

“Riiight, okay, I get it now. Last name’s Fenton.” Danny looked down as he ticked off a finger. “I’m twenty-three, I don’t drink, smoke, or do drugs, I have a stable job, a degree in mechanics and engineering, umm. . . Oh! I have my driver’s license, though that might not be vaild here. Uh, I’m from Illinois, I know first-aid—“ He was running out of fingers. “—and how to do water rescues, I’ve never committed a crime of my own will—“

“What?”

“—and I’ve never crashed through any buildings with my car.”

“. . .huh???” Bruisy asked.

“Oh. Yeah, well. Back home, people got nervous when I said I got my driver’s license and I like to make it clear my sister taught me to drive and not my parents. Anyway—“ He said to Batman. “—I just wanted you to know you don’t gotta worry about me. . .if. . .we ever hang out. . .?” Danny said the last part to Orphan shyly and rubbing at the back of his neck. She nodded and he beamed, making a pleased sound in the back of his throat.

Batman’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve committed crimes against your will?”

Ah. “Well, I should get going. You guys probably have a lot of vigilante-ing to do and saving children from fires and all that.”

“Ans—

“Not to mention these guys.” He gestured vaguely at all the tied up goons.

“You—“

“Yep, I can tell you’re itching to get going.” Danny began to back away. “We’ll talk later?” He asked Orphan.

“Find you on roof next time.”

Danny smiled at her.

“Dan—“

Danny froze and pointed wide-eyed behind the bats. “That guy got free!”

Everyone but Orphan whipped around to look and Danny dashed out of there. He couldn’t believe that’d worked a second time.

Tag List:

@okami-love, @whataspectaclebear, @thomasdimensor, @observerblock23, @stargazer-luna, @lazerswordweilder, @random-sparks-98 , @spam-extemporal, @theo-the-raven, @felicityroth , @jklpopcorn , @nontitlenym , @wanderwithwings, @8000fangirl

[hmslusitania]

prompt number 2, 8, 15, or 35 for TimKon or something with arrowfam (tv or comics lol)? Or whichever prompt that's calling to you! :)

I went with 8: "Am I close?" "Not even a little."

The thing is, Kon shouldn’t really be surprised. Tim, who hates surprises but keeps secrets like it’s his first language, is exactly the sort of person who — given a modicum of leeway — would plan some insane surprise situation for his boyfriend without even letting Kon have a hint about what it is.

“You scheduled us all a shift in the Justice League’s old moon base because you want to see what happens when Bart tries to run at reduced gravity,” Kon guesses, poking the bare strip of skin between the hem of Tim’s shirt and waistband of his boxer briefs. Tim is sitting up in bed and hunched over his laptop, focusing heavily on some case details for his latest Gotham bullshit situation. Kon is pretty much immune to random body aches, but his back twinges in sympathy the longer he observes Tim’s posture.

“No, but I do want to do that now,” Tim says, shifting a little when Kon pokes him again.

“Why won’t you just tell me?”

“And ruin the surprise?” Tim asks, twisting to look at him. The new posture does nothing to help the state of his back, and Kon can’t look at it anymore without intervening. He snatches Tim around the waist, uses his TTK to put Tim’s laptop safely on the floor, and hauls him back to bed.

“Can I get a hint?” Kon asks, when he’s got Tim’s spine properly straightened out and Tim’s face mashed against his chest.

Tim hums, considering. “No,” he decides finally.

“You convinced Wonder Woman to let us borrow her jet, so we can go to that crazy mall out in the middle of space where they sell everything and relive our wasted youth as ‘hoodlums who lurk in malls’,” Kon guesses, grabbing the two Gotham goons trying to rob the bank he’d been assigned by the collars of their jackets and hauling them up into the air while they scream.

“If you’re going to operate in Gotham, please observe Bat-comm protocol,” Oracle scolds mildly through the earpiece Kon had been talked into.

“I was never—” Tim starts, and is interrupted by the sound of his bo staff hitting the goons at the bank he’d been dispatched to. Kon thinks this is probably moor coordination than the general Gotham goon squad typically gets up to — robbing a dozen banks simultaneously in broad daylight because they’d been under the impression there was just the one daylight vigilante — but he’s not the detective here and his only real job is to help prevent the robberies. “—a mall hoodlum.”

“That’s just because the one mall in Gotham that wasn’t constantly getting carpet bombed by fear gas when we were growing up didn’t have a game store,” Steph pipes up in the comms.

“Ooh! Is that the surprise? You’re finally gonna teach me Dungeons and Dragons?” Kon asks.

“Kids, as much as I respect both games that help you hone skills like improv and storytelling and math, and the joys of young love,” Black Lightning says over the comms. “Maybe you can work on planning your date night later?”

“Sorry,” Tim and Kon reply, and Kon goes back to delivering his set of goons to the waiting members of the GCPD Oracle had dispatched to collect them.

Kon doesn’t reconnect with Tim until they’re done stopping all the robberies, the Bats, the Outsiders, and Kon pitching in because he’s in town. He meets him on a rooftop where Tim’s perched on a gargoyle to observe his city, and he smiles when Kon extends the bag of Bat Burger takeout his way.

“Did you get the fries Jokerized?” Tim asks.

“No, that felt like it was in really bad taste,” Kon replies.

Tim hums and goes a little pink beneath his mask. “Actually, they’re pretty good, and since even Jason’s said that, it’s just one of those weird facts we have to live with.”

“If you guys go into Bat Burger in costume, do they give you discounts?” Kon asks, unwrapping his own burger. “Like, I think the Flashes all have free admittance to the Flash Museum, or would if it was possible to keep them out of it.”

“They don’t give us discounts, but they do look at us kinda funny if we order things besides the menu items named for us,” Tim says.

“This city’s insane, right, like, you do know that,” Kon says. It’s kinda supposed to be a question, but he can’t quite make it one since it’s such an obvious statement.

“Yeah,” Tim agrees, with nearly a fond sigh about it.

They eat their burgers in companionable quiet for a moment, and then Kon prods Tim in the knee. “So was I close? Game night?”

Tim grins at him. There’s a sesame seed stuck at the corner of his mouth, and it shouldn’t be cute, but Kon is uselessly gone on him, so it is anyway. “Not even a little.”

--

“Someone crafted a superpowered rage room and we’re going to—”

“Nope.”

“The Watchtower needs new permanent crew for a six-month shift—”

“It has nothing to do with space.”

“Well, that’s — wait, is this blindfold lead-lined?”

“Did you just try to x-ray vision your way into a hint?” Tim demands, and stops walking. Kon, guided only by Tim’s hands on his shoulders, also lurches to a stop.

“Well, yeah,” he says.

“Cheater,” Tim scolds.

“I already agreed not to use my super-hearing or my super smelling, you’ve gotta give me something,” Kon complains.

Tim mutters something under his breath that might be “I give you plenty,” but Kon’s pretty sure it’s not the time for that kind of talk.

“Step up,” Tim instructs, and Kon places his foot on a wooden stair that creaks under his weight. “Another one.”

The second stair creaks too, in a way that’s deeply familiar, and Kon knows before Tim says that there’s one last step onto the porch, and that really begs the question of why Tim’s dragged him to the Kent household as part of the surprise.

Tim circles around him and pushes open the front door, pulling Kon inside by the hand.

“Surprise!”

The call comes from more than just Ma and Pa Kent, and when Kon pulls down the blindfold, the living room is packed with people. Bart and Cassie and Cissie are all there, and Clark and Lois and Jon and Kara, and right in centre, Krypto, who launches himself to lick Kon’s face as soon as Jon lets go of his collar.

“We know it’s not really your birthday,” Ma says, nudging Krypto aside so she can hug him. “But it’s the anniversary of the day we got you back.”

“Kind of like a re-birthday,” Tim suggests, squeezing Kon’s hand.

“Okay,” Kon says, choking on the lump in his throat, which the rest of the group takes as an excuse to hug him as well.

“Sorry it’s not space,” Tim says when Ma squeezes him one last time and then goes to cut apart the cake she’s made.

“That’s okay,” Kon promises, kissing him even though his face is covered in Krypto’s slobber and even though Tim makes a face about that. “This is way better.”

[sejdkvinna]

a year and a day of witchcraft research

Years ago, I asked myself how I would approach witchcraft if I were to start all over again.  I loved the idea of dedicating yourself to a year and a day of study, even if I don’t align with Wicca. From this, I created a weekly study plan for a year and a day of witchcraft research  Realistically, I don’t think you can study one topic in depth per week, but I do think it’s useful for beginners to explore a little bit of everything to find their interests.  Please don’t feel confined by the weekly structure!  If a topic interests you, take more time to explore it!  The application of a topic is just as important as reading about it.  If a topic doesn’t hold your attention, be grateful for what it has taught you and move on. Or just use this for inspiration on what to dive into next!

A note on research - not all sources are the same quality!  Over the years, I’ve gravitated to academic articles and botanical books for information on history, plants, etc.  Many witch authors have spread an insane amount of misinformation, so being able to track where their information is coming from is crucial.  That’s not to say there aren’t good witch authors on witchcraft – do a quick search on their background and look at book reviews!  This is additionally important to understand what biases may be lurking in their writing.

Finally, I want to encourage you to keep two journals during your study.  I keep one journal as a grimoire/book of shadows (BOS) or whatever name you choose to call it.  I keep another journal to keep my personal experiences with the craft (meditations, spell work, etc.).  I’ve loved being able to look back at my progress over the years.

Week 1:  History and Cultural Appropriation

A good place to start your witchcraft research is the history of witchcraft.  Learn a bit about where it started and how it evolved to its modern form.  This is also a good time to also do some research into cultural appropriation – many modern witchcraft practices are full of it!  Understanding the roots of practices will help you to not only build discernment skills, but it will also help you to respect closed practices.

Week 2:  Traditions

There’s many schools of thought and cultural contexts for witchcraft.  This is a good time to explore the different witchcraft traditions and see what resonates with you.  I personally would discourage beginner witches from picking a path early on, as I find that you’ll naturally gravitate towards what’s meant for you.  However, doing some research on different paths early on can help you make connections and see practices through different lenses as you progress.

Week 3:  Ethics

In addition to there being many paths, many witches have created codes of ethics.  Do some research into what ethical framework you wish to move forward with – you are more than free to create your own!  What does ethical witchcraft mean to you?

Week 4:  Cleansing and Banishing

Learn what cleansing and banishing are, and find a few ways to do it that you like.  What are some indicators that a cleansing or banishing might be needed?  Think about cleansing yourself, your home, your sacred space, tools etc.

Week 5:  Protection

To follow up cleansing and banishing, learning some forms of magical protection and warding.  Again, think about the different ways you might protect yourself and your space.  What are some signs that it’s time to renew your protections?  Make sure to practice protection magic moving forward in addition to learning about it!

Week 6:  Meditation

Do a little research into how to meditate and give it a try.  Meditation doesn’t come easy to everyone, so don’t get discouraged!  For this week, focus on your breathwork, entering a blank space, and generally relaxing your mind and your body.

Week 7:  Visionary Work

Once you’ve gotten the basics of meditation down, move on to visionary work.  Build your visualization skills – this does not have to be “seeing” things in your head.  It can include all senses!  Something that helped me with visionary work was to look at my surroundings in front of me while “seeing” my surroundings that were behind me.  Incorporate meditations with visionary aspects during this week.

Week 8:  Centering and Grounding

Now that we’ve done some visionary work, try doing some meditations with the goal to center/ground yourself.  There’s so many meditations (and even other ways to center and ground yourself) out there – find what works for you!  What are some signs that it’s time to ground yourself again?

Week 9:  Energy Work

Hopefully you’ve already got a bit of a sense for handling energy from centering and grounding, but this week it’s time to really dive into energy work.  What does your energy feel like?  What about others’?  Objects?  How can you manipulate and shape energy?  Etc.

Week 10:  Shadow Work

Get to know your shadow this week! Learn about what shadow work is and how to integrate your shadow. There's lots of exercises and prompts out there already - go ahead and explore!

Week 11:  Developing the Senses

Next, let's start developing the psychic senses. From the visionary magic week, you might already have a sense of which of your psychic senses might be strongest. Start looking into what the psychic senses are, and how you might start developing them. For an introduction, I really like this video by The Norse Witch.

Week 12:  Consecration and Desecration

Now we're going to focus on how to consecrate and desecrate objects. Consecration is a valuable skill to be able to designate objects for a certain intent, and desecration is valuable for when you need to remove intent from an object, whether good or bad. Learn about a few different methods for each!

Week 13: Bioregionalism

It's time to get to know the nature around you. What plants grow in the area? What rocks and minerals can you find? Where are some crossroads that you can visit? These questions are just a starting point; take the time to really get to know the land around you!

Week 14:  Elements

Now we're going to focus on the elements. The four classical elements may not apply to the tradition you're working within - do some research to see what the "building blocks" are for you! If you do want to work with the four (or five) elements, take some time to learn about the correspondences, associated spirits, etc.

Week 15:  Directions

Building off of the research done on elements, do some research on the four directions and their associations. This can also be a good point to look at wind magic, and how different directions are associated with different winds.

Week 16:  Holidays and Seasons

While many witches choose to work with the wheel of the year, you might find there are other holidays associated with other traditions. This can be a good time to think on how you want to celebrate the changing of the seasons. How do you know each season has come? What magical workings might be best for each season?

Week 17:  Lunar Phases

This week, let's look at the different lunar phases and their correspondences. What workings are best for each phase? What about for each sign the moon can be in? This is also a good time to look at the correspondences for the lunar eclipse.

Week 18:  Planetary Correspondences

Now let's research the correspondences for each planet. How does the positioning of each planet have the potential to affect your spellwork?

Week 19:  Astrology

While learning everything about astrology would be very time consuming, this week you could aim to understand your birth chart, as well as what each sign is associated with.

Week 20:  Timing

Zooming in now, let's look at timing. Look up what the days of the week and times of the day are associated with, and how they can affect your practice.

Week 21:  Written Verse, Incantations, etc.

Written verse is a part of spell work for many practitioners. How can you write the incantations for a spell? Does your tradition offer any guidance or structures?

Week 22:  Color Correspondences

What do you associate each color with? While there are many correspondences you can find online, be sure that they align with your intuition as well.

Week 23:  Candle Magic

Building off of color magic, this week is for delving into candle magic. How can candles be used? How do you dress/anoint a candle?

Week 24:  Knot Magic

Look into what knot magic and some ways you could practice it. Personally, I am a big fan of the Witch's Ladder.

Week 25:  Herbalism

There's too many plants to learn the correspondences for all of them in one week (or even a lifetime), but take this opportunity to learn more about the plants growing in your area! This is also a good time to look at how to make balms, tinctures, etc.

Local/native plants

Week 26:  Crystals

Once again, there's too many crystals for one week. What are some rocks/minerals you could find in your region? How can you use them in your practice?

Week 27:  Tools

What are some tools you can use in your practice? This doesn't have to be the athame, chalice, etc. You can think of both physical and nonphysical tools for this.

Week 28:  Spell and Ritual Writing

Now that you've got down a lot of the parts of spell writing, it's time to put them all together! While you can rely on others' spells for a while, learning to write your own is a powerful skill.

Week 29:  Amulets and Talismans

How would you create an amulet or talisman? What purposes can they serve? If you feel called to it, try making your won.

Week 30:  Shrines and Altars

What's the difference between a shrine and an altar? What are some purposes for both, and what might you put on them? This would also be a good time to make your own, if you feel called to it.

Week 31:  Pendulum

This week, we'll start focusing on some divination practices, starting with the pendulum. Look into how to use one, as well has how to make a pendulum and pendulum board if you don't want to go out and buy these things.

Week 32:  Tarot

For tarot research, I found that looking up the meaning of each card, taking in the visual symbolism, and then assigning one word meanings to each card helped me to learn how to read tarot. Look into some spreads you could use as well!

Week 33:  Scrying

To add another divination practice you can choose from in the future, research scrying and how to perform it. It might also be a good idea to find some ways to make your own scrying mirror.

Week 34:  Runes

This week, let's look at the runes? Learn about their origin and history, the rune poems, their meanings how to perform divination with them, etc.

Week 35:  Tea Leaf Reading

To wrap up the divination weeks, learn a bit about tea leaf reading (tasseomancy). What are some common shapes, and what are their meanings?

Week 36:  Sigils

What are sigils? How are they charged and activated? How do you draw a sigil? There's a few different ways to create sigils - see what works best for you!

Week 37:  Symbols

What are some symbols and their meanings? What are their origins? Which ones resonate with you?

Week 38:  Sacred Geometry

Do a little dive into sacred geometry. What is it? What are some examples of wit can appear? How can you use sacred geometry in your practice?

Week 39:  Alchemy

Look into alchemical principles and how you might want to apply them to your practice (if at all). Does it align with your view of witchcraft?

Week 40:  Numerology

What are the correspondences for each number? If you're interested in it, look into your life path number and what it means.

Week 41:  Axis Mundi

Many traditions have a concept of an "axis mundi" - what is the axis mundi in your tradition (and if you don't subscribe to a tradition, what does an axis mundi mean to you? How might this relate to your practice and accessing other worlds?

Week 42:  Animal Correspondences

What are some correspondences for different animals? What animals are good psychopomps? What might seeing certain animals mean to you?

Week 43:  Protective Spirits

Many different traditions have some concept of protective personal spirits. Many modern witches might instead refer to a "spirit team". Do some research into the different protective spirits - what resonates with you?

Week 44:  Ancestral Work

Some of the easiest spirits to work with are our ancestors! You can start an ancestral practice to honor those who came before you, even if you do not know or wish not to honor your blood ancestors. Look into some ways you can work with and honor your ancestors during this week.

Week 45:  House Spirits

Next, let's look at some house spirits. Do some research into some different house spirits, and get to know the spirit of your house!

Week 46:  Land Spirits

This week, let's move on to land spirits. Dive into what some different land spirits are and get to know the land spirits around you. This may include spirits from folklore, as well as the spirits of rocks, plants, water sources, etc.

Week 47:  Egregores

Now, let's look at egregores. Research what they are, how they are created, etc. You don't need to create one now, but it will help you to have this knowledge background if you choose to continue with spirit work.

Week 48:  Dream Work

This week, let's research how to interpret dreams, lucid dreaming, how to communicate with spirits through dreams, etc. This is also a good time to start recording your dreams, if you haven't already. You can also build off past herbalism research to enhance your dreams.

Week 49:  Astral Work

For this week, research the astral plane, other types of spirits, how to reach the astral, etc. For many, astral projection/travel takes a lot of time and practice - don't get discouraged! There's many ways to interact with spirits outside of the astral plane.

Week 50:  Pantheons and/or Animism

Many witches choose to incorporate deity work into their practice. Other witches do not, and some of these witches may believe in animism and choose to work with plant, rock, etc. allies. What do you believe it? If you do feel called to deity work, this could be a good time to start. I recommend starting with looking into the different pantheons and seeing what resonates. I do advise against assuming everything is a sign that a deity is calling to you - reach out to those you want a relationship with, and your psychic senses or divination to see if they want to work with you too.

Week 51:  Mythology and Folklore

Whether you choose to believe that stories from folklore/mythology are true or not, they do often contain valuable information on witchcraft from their traditions. Take some time to read these and recognize patterns within them. How can these inform your practice?

Week 52:  Covens v. the Solitary Path

What are some benefits to working in a group? What are some benefits of working alone? Are there other practicing witches in your area? How might you meet them?

Last Day:  Reflecting on your Path

You made it to the last day, congratulations! This day is dedicated to reflecting on your path so far. What lessons have you learned? Are you feeling called to any particular paths, or what interested you more than others? Do you see yourself looking for a group to practice with, or do you wish to continue on your own?  

[alilbatflies]

Just Cake #3

by popular demand (2 people asked) (hello) (thank you for commenting! it means a lot even if I don't manage to answer perhaps)

Part 1, Part 2

... ... ...

“Look who we’ve caught,” an entirely too sweet voice said. “Well, aren’t you two adorable?”

The villain was growling now. A low, guttural sound which the henchman has only heard in life-threatening situations, usually forced out by the desperate struggle of survival. Now it was a promise of violence, get closer I dare you, a promise of slaughter and doom.

They tried to angle their head to glimpse whoever had the honour of experiencing such a threat.

The person shuffled to the side, no doubt measuring them in turn. They were all cloak and magic glowing through two bright orange eyes.

Supervillain.

They were so screwed. Utterly fucked.

The supervillain measured them both.

They seemed… wary. Ridiculous, given that the two potential threats were trapped in a power-suppressing net. Ridiculous, given that the supervillain was a supervillain for a reason—spectacular amount of magical skill and all.

Although the henchman could admit they wouldn’t want to be facing their villain’s growling and claws either. Even through a net. There were holes.

“You’re not superhero.”

The confusion triggered by such statement startled the villain out of their instinctual reaction. They stopped growling, although they were still baring their teeth.

“I was not expecting anyone else,” the supervillain said. “Perhaps that pesky hero who lurks around them sometimes, but not a fellow criminal.”

Fellow criminal, huh? The henchman assumed the supervillain was trying to convince them that they’re all on the same side. Perhaps the idea of a potential furious threat unsettled them, no matter the current cage around it.

Well, it wasn’t like they particularly wanted to stay in the bloody uncomfortable trap.

“In that case,” the henchman said, “I suppose you wouldn’t mind getting us out of the net?”

“Should I?”

…the henchman had assumed wrong.

While they probably were on a similar kind of boat regarding their criminal activities, the supervillain hadn’t had any proper motivation to let them go. They weren’t especially close or anything.

And yet, still standing there. Still watching the two criminals swinging in their net as if they somehow held the answers to the universe.

The supervillain had options.

First, they could let them out. The best outcome but severely unlikely.

Second, they could close a bargain of some kind. I’ll only let you out if… which was less favourable, but it would still mean getting out relatively quickly.

Third, they could leave them trapped.

It occurred to the henchman that while there was little chance of them making it out then, the supervillain couldn’t possibly know that. Their villain’s powers were speculated on so many levels it had led to more confusion than clarity in the industry. That could work out in their favour.

The henchman was no mind reader. They couldn’t possibly know how much of a threat did the supervillain consider them at the moment. Nevertheless, the supervillain was still standing there.

Nevertheless, the supervillain didn’t seem entirely convinced leaving them hanging was their best option.

They could work with that.

They decided to play their cards according to their instincts. The villain still hovered over them, a display of teeth and taunt like an arrow ready to take flight and slaughter. Their most wild card, a whisper of carnage. A terrifying ace.

The henchman loved them so.

“You had no quarrel with us before this… incident,” the henchman said. They focused on keeping their tone light, conversational. “Although, now that the situation has changed, perhaps you’re excited to find out how we settle the score, hm?”

Their look met the orange eyes. The supervillain probably found them crazy, threatening from within the containment. They felt insane. They felt the thrill run through them.

“Let us go, so the beast doesn’t have to claw its way out.”

On cue, the villain growled.

The supervillain hesitated.

It was a brief and finely concealed blip of emotion, barely slipping past the dangerous façade. Surely the villain couldn’t be so terrifying as to startle them. And yet.

The supervillain drew a smile, entirely too sharp in its flawless elegance. “Of course.” Then they proceeded to pull shears out of nowhere.

The henchman tried not to be impressed too bad. They hadn’t had much time to ponder about the practicality of the supervillain’s pockets relevant to such level of preparedness, since the net was cut down. There was little regard for the fact they would hit the ground.

The henchman couldn’t care less about the fall as their magic roared to life inside them. It pushed along their bones and crashed into their skin from within. It settled then, nesting in their body like a monster in its cave.

Belatedly, they realized the villain shielded the back of their neck and head from impact with their arm.

There was absolutely no dignified way to get out of the tangle of ropes.

Once the henchman managed, they realized the villain was standing over them protectively, placing themselves between them and the supervillain.

The villains stared each other down. It seemed a stalemate.

“I appreciate you understand plans fall through sometimes,” the supervillain said. “It was not my intention to harm you.”

“As displayed,” the henchman noted quietly.

The villain considered this. They nodded in acknowledgement.

The henchman itched to get out of another’s territory. They were sure the villain didn’t want to linger either.

“Could you give us directions from the forest?” they asked. “We would dislike to meddle with any of your other… endeavours.”

The supervillain tilted their head.

“What I mean is…” The henchman pulled the net up from beneath their feet, holding it out. “We wouldn’t want to mess with your handiwork.”

The supervillain grinned as they took the cluster of ropes, a little feral, a little genuine. They did point the two in a certain direction. They tipped their head at the villain before seemingly dissolving back into the forest and vanishing.

“Bloody hell.”

The villain inclined their head. Then they turned and started away. “Luckily not.”

“Luckily not,” the henchman huffed in echo, following short behind. “Extremely insightful as always, boss.”

“Hm.”

They luckily didn’t stumble into any more traps on their way back.

The henchman was so not sleeping that night.

...

Part 4

[dipplinduo]

CHAPTER 10 NWBFBSBW SOBS

never in my life have i been so invested in a fic AND I MEAN IT (full range of emotions fr but mainly SCREAMING IN MY PILLOW) read it yesterday and i plan on rereading untill new chapters com out 🙏 your writing skills are INSANE!!!!!! CHEFS KISS FINALLY SOME GOOD F FOOD

Im no good at drawing humans but other peeps beautiful works inspired me to break my artblock!!!!!

*retreats into the lurking shadows*

OHHHHH MY GOSH.

THIS IS BY FAR THE BEST WAY TO START MY DAY STOP IT. OH MY GOSH THE APPLIN LOVE. I AM SO SO SO HAPPY THE FIC GIVES YOU THAT MUCH JOY AND FRANKLY I AM FEELING SIMILAR LEVELS WITH THIS FANART THANK YOU SO MUCH

[eobe]

Dank Farrik ☝️

Welcome to a glimpse of AuDHD everyday chaos 🦉Scroll on or get rambled 😅☕️

Today is draft day, but not a lucky one 😭🫠

Do you know those days, when it’s so tempting to abandon every securing structure and just cave in the lurking chaos? 👀

I’ve got a really great picture in my mind and it’s so clear and beautiful, but I can’t realize it, because lack of drawing skill. This sucks so much! 😭

How to draw walking people? Top view walking towards, something around dimetric perspective? I want to screech and hide under my blanket! 🦉Frustration tolerance depleted.

And the worst: Either I lost my ability to google properly or there are no drawing tutorial, studies or templates for this specific motion perspective and if I found some, they were always not the motion I look for or the angle doesn’t fit or aaargulklkjjfhfgdkk! 😱 Kriffin‘ details

I‘m barely an inch from going insane with tempting solutions my brain offers which were absolutely able to ruin me 🤯

I can almost see myself litering caf, green tea and energy drinks through the night, digging myself into 3D modelling only to build my figures and my scene to get that karking epic perspective palpable and out of my head where tempting and sparkling ideas like this tend to 💣 because it’s so beautiful and out of my reach yet aaah 😩

… and oooh I can see where this would lead, I know myself! 👻 After I learned Blender I‘d render that scene into life after some weeks or even months of no sleep welcome to adhd hyperfixation and hyperfocus phases where eating, sleeping and other human things are absolutely overrated. Not that there would be a choice naah and then after all not even recognizing myself anymore I’d realize I could do magic now … 😱 By accident because I only wanted to see the scene … 🙈 I only wanted to draw … 🦉☕️☕️☕️ Lost. Out of energy. But badass. But out of energy. This is so stupid 😂 It would be badass to do 3D and animation aaargdfkljd 😱

👀

So, quiet now brain☝️ It’s highly probable, that there’s a really simple solution for this. I‘ve got a feeling that I find something tomorrow after I got some sleep. Something I can’t see at the moment, because I‘m stuck and tired 🧘🏽‍♀️✨

… 🤪 Or I learn Blender, ZBrush, Animate, After Effects, Premiere and everything else to realize every missing scene I ever wanted to see and I can die happliy dopamining ✨aaaaah ☕️☕️☕️😂🫠

… No ☺️ I‘m a reasonable adult, I‘ll deal with it tomorrow 😅

Sigh 🤣🤷🏽‍♀️

[sparkmender]

For the hive au, is a mostly peaceful compared to the OG lore? Is there crime and civil unrest? Whether between the courts or factions or etc

In the immediate area of Hive Iacon (and Megatron’s remaining Swarm loyalists who have come to stay), conflict is quite low now that Megatron and Optimus have settled things between them and Megatron has been appointed Lord Protector of the Hive. They have joined together out of a need for shared resources and, on Optimus’ part, an urging from the Matrix and his inner court to secure his position as the new Prime (potential-to-be Magnus) of the Hive. As Sentinel had any other Prime potentiates killed before they could emerge from their second cocoons, and then fell to sickness, Optimus was in a very precarious situation that could have led to Iacon facing colony collapse or poaching from other Hives— prior to becoming more isolationist under Nova Prime and Sentinel Prime, Iacon had long been held in high regard for their gifted magic adepts and skillful healers (as well as a carefully maintained library due to the work of elder Alpha Trion) and many would be glad to take them and their knowledge in, should their community bonds crumble.

Tensions had been very high between Iacon and the Swarm in the past under Sentinel Prime’s leadership, with Sentinel as the aggressor rather than Megatron— for the most part Megatron had been very, very busy trying to quell infighting and claw back territory after his successful coup and duel to the death against Megazarak, the former leader of the Swarm and his and Galvatron’s sire. (Galvatron had previously been excommunicated and thrown out into the wastes of the Kaoni desert for her own attempt on Megazarak in Megatron’s grubhood, as she was considered mad due to her Seer abilities— the Swarm has a long history of distrust and disbelief in such things— and it would have been ‘dishonorable’ for Megazarak to kill her because of her insanity.) At current time the Swarm exists in name only; there are several different troupes and factions within that have splintered away for various reasons since that clash between Megatron and Megazarak, and the Swarm’s once ironclad grip on the Tarnish mountain range and surrounding territory (stretching from the Kaoni desert to roughly west of Tesarus) has been thoroughly broken, leading to infighting, banditry, and other conflicts.

Notable among these splintered groups are the Wyld Hunt as led by Tarn, the bastard offspring of Megatron, and Overlord’s strange wandering Circus. There’s also a bunch of idiots calling themselves the Scavengers? We don’t know what their deal is, but they’re human friendly and pretty bad at being mercenaries.

The Order of the Path are wandering pathguides and wayfinders of all sorts, who travel among various Hives and settlements to share news and, occasionally, guard caravans of travelers. Drift is one such pathguide, and travels between Iacon and Caminus regularly. Beyond the threat of ambush and bandits for large groups of travelers, there are large Voiceless (nonsentient) predators to contend with, ranging from those who are opportunistic to those who specifically predate on Fae and their kin.

There’s also the Court of Vos, which is constantly in conflict with itself, everyone around it, anyone who’s ever been tangentially involved, and probably you as well just because. Vos itself sounds constantly as if it is in argument with itself, given the concentration of the wasp population within. You will hear the buzzing before you even realize you’re within fighting distance.

The Coastal fae and their kith have very loose arrangements with each other and are typically solitary or form small pods with poorly defined territory claims. When conflict arises (which rarely occurs, as the beach dwellers and cave-lurks keep to themselves), issues are brought to Shockwave to mediate, as all are in agreement that Shockwave is the most impartial and sensible. This has nothing to do with the fact that he is also the largest. We swear.

As for the Kaon Market, it’s only a crime if you get caught. Don’t get caught.

[worldsokayestmagicalgirl]

This one is 100% @captain-cappie 's fault

Words were spoken, and my fate was sealed.

I'm very on board with the idea of both of them having previous partners in this AU and having both partnerships ending badly. They were both 2 star meisters that were needed for a mission who were skilled enough to resonate for this one job, but were so successful together they stayed on together as permanent partners after it. There's still little sore insecurities that lurk under the surface of their partnership, but Aqua is nothing of not no nonsense 🤣

I had originally planned to have the kids in another picture for this one but I think it's gonna have to wait till October is over before I revisit. But I'm so excited to add it to the collection!

As always, Aqua : @captain-cappie

be sure to check out my partners in insanity @clovedown & @captain-cappie

Let's put these idiots in SITUATIONS ✧*｡٩(๑˙╰╯˙๑)و✧*｡

[sasheneskywalker]

batfamily fic recs which are told through unusual formatting

a hat fashioned from tin foil by discowing (ameliafromafairytale) nightwang @karakurachou – 8 hours ago jason todd is alive and faked his death so he could become robin: a conspiracy theory thread

Batfam conspiracy theories meet social media.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

occam's razor by BeatriceEagle r/SolveIt • Posted by u/Phalangefier 3 days ago

It's the fifth anniversary of Jason Todd's death

Today is the fifth anniversary of the day that Jason Todd and Sheila Haywood were murdered, so I thought I would post a write-up unifying all of the information that we have on the case. There have been a lot of posts about Jason over the years, but this case is so weird and has so many branches to it, I don’t think that anyone’s ever compiled all of them in one place.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Dick Grayson & Jason Todd

Send to All by kerosceene I, _______________, hereby acknowledge that this form represents my wishes should I contract phytoaphrodisiac-induced delirium (hereafter referred to as “PAID”) during engagements with or while apprehending Dr. Pamela Lillian Isley (“Poison Ivy”).

-

The bats have a sex pollen release form. Because of course they do.

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Tim Drake & Bruce Wayne, Stephanie Brown & Tim Drake, Barbara Gordon & Dick Grayson, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Kon-El | Conner Kent, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

Batman Hits the Red Hood with His Batarang by redboard (Ink) Batman hears whispers of a new crime lord in Gotham, trailing blood and carnage in his wake. The Red Hood is skilled and ruthless, and quickly seizes control of the drug trade, seemingly for his own ends.

Red Hood, after years of planning, your moment has finally arrived. Why have you come?

An "Under the Red Hood"-themed tabletop game, for one or two players. You will need colored dice (or a dice roller), your imagination, and, optionally, a friend who has as many feelings about Jason Todd as you do.

(Yes, I'm serious. This is not a bit.)

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne

#Justice4Gotham by Havendance So, uh, Hi. I’m still alive. I didn’t die of the clench (barely). I’m kind of sorry for disappearing on you for so long but life just got really busy and I didn’t really have time to chase after Batman and Robin anymore. I’m not sure how many of you guys still check this blog, but if you are out there, I’ve got a big favor to ask you all.

On June 27th at 7:03pm, Gotham City was hit by the worst earthquake the east coast has seen in, like, ever. And now we could really use your help.

[Or: When you run out of things you can do, there’s always yelling at the world from the blog you made when you were ten.]

T | No Archive Warnings Apply | No Relationships

Night Blogger by AnonDude There's a blogger catching the internet's attention with a long, insane, and twisted tale. The problem is, he seems to persist under the impression that he's just a random anonymous blogger looking for advice on his relationship. That's all.

QuillsNFrills: I like your first entry! But I'm a little unsure as to what genre you're aiming for here; it seems a little confused and all over the place. It's clear you want it to be something more lurking under the guise of a simple relationship blog, but is that…mystery? Thriller? A dark romance? Sci-fi/fantasy/magic (with the…whatever is going on with BF's head)? I'm also kind of wondering if I'm reading right that maybe there are hints this isn't a reliable narrator? Maybe that will continue…eyes. Anyway, keep up the good work! – April 15, 2023 –

BlueberryPancakes: this […] only continued to get MORE wild, and despite the "clearing up"…I still don't know whether to believe […] it's supposed to be an obvious red herring and this is all an Experience^tm, or whether this is really OP's life. – April 17, 2023 –

M | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | Tim Drake/Jason Todd

A preliminary examination of potential significant others (last saved by T. Drake) by Betty, Elf_Herself, Petra thefourthvine wrote, "I want the story where someone sits down and thinks that, and lists every single person in the canon (probably in some kind of database, with numerical codes and assigned weights for each category and stuff) and weighs all the pros and cons and finally, after a lot of careful deliberation, selects a candidate for the position of Significant Other."

This is the first step in that process.

G | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | No Relationships