#there’s nothing wrong with seeking help

[liketolaugh-writes]

I've been playing with a no-one-knows AU where Danny has been married to Jason for years but hasn't told him his secret. Jason knows that Danny isn't human, but hasn't pressed because Danny is so terrified when he approaches the topic. The Batfamily do not know.

Presently, the GIW are in Gotham and closing in, and the Box Ghost has come to Danny seeking help.

----

“You’re a ghost,” Jason said gently, pulling one of Danny’s hands away from his face to wrap it in his own. Danny let him. “Aren’t you?”

Danny’s breath hitched again.

Surprisingly, the Box Ghost looked almost as horrified as Danny.

“What? NO! I, the BOX GHOST, would not out Danny Fenton to his human family! For he is as human as I once was!” He flailed his arms in blatant panic. “There is nothing to reveal, for Danny Fenton is most certainly NOT a ghost!”

“What’s wrong with Danny being a ghost?” Box Lunch wanted to know, tilting her head up to peer up at her father in confusion. “Is it a secret?”

“BOX LUNCH!” the Box Ghost wailed, every inch a mortified parent.

“Yes, it was, or your father would not be so blatantly lying about it,” Damian told her, taking pity on the child ghost.

“Oh!” Box Lunch nodded seriously. “Danny isn’t a ghost!”

Danny let out a slightly hysterical laugh, and then started to cry, gasping quietly with tears pouring down his face, hunched down to hide from them. He didn’t pull his hand out of Jason’s.

“It is no longer a secret here, as it has become apparent,” Damian elaborated.

Box Lunch scrunched up her nose. “Oh.”

“Ghosts are not bad,” Cass said softly, “if ghosts are Danny.”

“Danny.” Jason scooted closer and pulled Danny against him, and Danny let him, pressing into him without unwinding at all. “Danny, I already knew. I’ve known for years.” Danny tilted his head up to give him an incredulous look, and Jason grinned at him. “You’re not good at hiding it, stardust. Your freckles glow when you’re excited and your eyes flash green when you’re frustrated. You walk through closed doors when you’re sleepy and things fall through your hands when people startle you. I’ve known you aren’t human since we moved in together.”

“…Oh,” Danny murmured, guilt and relief and wonder swirling together in his still-wet eyes.

“Phantom!” the Box Ghost scolded. Jason took note of the sudden change in address. “You are the worst secret keeper ever!”

“Shut up, Boxy,” Danny snapped. He pulled away from Jason and wiped his eyes, sniffling. Their hands stayed locked together. “We, we need to hide you and bitty-bite b-before we talk about this any more. I wasn’t joking about the Guys in White.”

The Box Ghost flapped his arms dismissively. “They will not find us! They are looking for YOU, and their instruments will not be prepared for such subtle spirits as Box Lunch and I!”

“They are looking for me while I am hiding,” Danny said, soft but barbed. He wiped his face again and turned around to better face the other ghost, glaring sharply. “Something I am well known to be very good at. Far better at than you.”

The Box Ghost went so pale he was almost translucent.

“You don’t look like a ghost at all,” Tim said, studying Danny. “Your skin is pink, you don’t glow… most of the time, no pointed ears or fangs. Your eyes are normal.” His eyes narrowed. “Is this… not your natural appearance?”

Danny flinched. “I… I…” He swallowed, staring at nothing, and then forced his attention back onto the Box Ghost. “Your base signatures are pretty low. If you stop using your powers and suppress your auras as much as you can, you can probably bring them low enough to hide.”

No answers would be forthcoming for now, Jason understood. He signaled sharply to Bruce and Tim, the most likely to try to interrupt. Wait. Time-sensitive, finish operation before proceeding.

Bruce didn’t look pleased, but he nodded sharply. Tim just watched, thoughtful eyes fixed on Danny. Damian was scowling, Dick frowning faintly, but Cass’ curiosity looked borderline idle. Jason watched Danny interact with the other ghost with a healthy blend of interest and concern, and tried not to wonder if Tim was right.

“Box Lunch, do you know how to land?” Danny asked. It seemed like a silly question until Box Lunch wrinkled her nose and cocked her head.

“Land?” she asked, audibly uncertain. For that matter, her father looked vaguely baffled too. “Like… with my feet? On the floor?”

Danny managed a smile and nodded. Box Lunch eyed the floor, then drifted down to hover at floor level. “Like this?”

“Not exactly,” Danny said, sounding more fond than anything. He slid off the bar stool and knelt down in front of Box Lunch. Jason couldn’t look away; he’d been deprived of any open knowledge of Danny’s nonhuman side for so long that his curiosity was damn near insatiable now. And Danny teaching a kid of his species? That was doing things to Jason. Good things. “Close your eyes.” Box Lunch did. “Feel the energy in the air. Do you feel gravity? Do you sense how it pulls things down?” She nodded uncertainly. “Hold onto that feeling. Let it hold onto you. Do you feel it?” Nod. “Good. Now- let go of the sky.”

The instructions didn’t make a lick of sense to Jason, but Box Lunch dropped right out of the air and landed on her feet. Her eyes flew open, and she pinwheeled dramatically until Danny caught her.

“Ahh!” she squealed, looking dismayed. “I’m heavy!”

Danny chuckled. “No, bitty-bite, you’re still light as a feather.” He picked Box Lunch up and held her out in front of him, smiling. She squealed again, kicking her feet, her eyes bright with delight. “Good job. Do you think you can hold that?”

“Um, sure,” she mumbled, not looking at all sure.

The Box Ghost landed on the floor with a grunt - Jason suspected that he’d been listening to Danny’s instructions too. He held out his arms for Box Lunch, and Danny handed her over willingly.

“Now what?” the Box Ghost asked tentatively, staring at the floor like it would eat him. Yeah, Jason could definitely believe that he’d never landed before either.

“Now, you listen to me,” Danny said seriously. He reached out and grabbed Box Ghost’s arm, demanding his attention, and forced eye contact. From the Box Ghost’s wide eyes, this behavior was as new to him as it was to Jason. But then Danny continued, speaking as firmly as if he were willing his words into existence. “You are not a ghost. You are not a ghost.” Understanding flickered across the Box Ghost’s face, and he screwed his eyes shut. His glow started to dim. “You are solid. You are heavy. You are warm. You are made of flesh, blood, and bone. You are not a ghost. You are not a ghost. You are human.”

The Box Ghost’s glow receded and disappeared. Except for his blue skin, he almost looked human now. He opened his eyes uncertainly, and Danny gave him a weary smile and a nod, letting go of his arm and leaning back.

“But what about Box Lunch?” the Box Ghost asked anxiously, looking down at Box Lunch. She’d squeezed her eyes shut to try and follow Danny’s instructions, but didn’t seem to be meeting with the same success.

Danny sighed. “I’m not sure how to explain it to her,” he admitted, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair as he looked at the little girl with worry. She opened her eyes and gave him an anxious look, and Danny gave her a small smile. “It’s not your fault, bitty-bite. It’s just… you’ve always been a ghost, so you don’t have your dad’s memories of what it felt like to be human.”

Box Lunch stomped her feet. “I can pretend!”

“Then pretend,” Danny said seriously. “It doesn’t have to be perfect. Just do your best.”

“Wehh!” Box Lunch flailed her arms, brow furrowed in concentration. “I am human! My body is super solid and I crash into things a lot! And I run around on the ground and eat human food! Fear me!”

It was so cute that Jason muffled a laugh, and he wasn’t the only one. Box Lunch ran a circle around the floor, then crashed into a wall on purpose and bounced off, giggling. Even Bruce’s hard expression softened into a fond look.

“That should keep you off the sensors,” Danny said to the Box Ghost, voice low. Something about his eyes looked exhausted. “Just make sure Box Lunch maintains it. Maybe keep playing human with her.”

The Box Ghost nodded uncertainly. “Thank you, Phantom,” he said quietly. “I know that we can count on you.”

[hannieween]

the soulkeeper’s betrayal — prologue

When Jun realizes that something has gone awry in his kingdom, he has no choice but to ask for help from his estranged wife. Though not without paying a price.

› pairings: wen junhui x female reader › aus: hades jun, king jun, exes to lovers, husband jun › genres: angst, fantasy, fluff, smut (18+) [none in this part] › word count: 661 words

› 🎧: things we lost in the fire – bastille | nfwmb – hozier | end of the affair – ben howard | lover please stay – nothing but thieves | conspiracy – paramore | only – ry x | cosmic love – florence + the machine | caught up – sights & sounds, nicole dollanganger . . . listen on spotify

› this fic is part of the greek gods collab ✧

» read more

no warnings apply in this part

› prologue, the journey

The morning felt stale under a colorless sky, announcing a cold and cloudy day ahead. A soft whooshing sound preceded the breeze that swept through the forest, rustling the leaves of the timber trees.

The leaves had begun to turn a vibrant shade of yellow, the King noticed. As he gazed at the land before him, he felt the urge to bend down and pick up the leaves that had begun to blow around his feet in the wind, creating a soft, crumpled blanket on the ground. 

He paused for a moment, aware that the wind was whispering something from afar. It carried with it the distant, melodic calls of phoebes, their voices echoing through the crisp air of the morning.

Junhui tilted his head forward, allowing the cool breeze to brush and sweep between his eyelashes as he closed his eyes. With a gentle, respectful gesture, he bowed to the wind, feeling its whispers in his brown hair.

The earth would gradually grow barren and lose the sweetness of spring. This was familiar to him; he had witnessed the signs time and time again. Yet this time it carried a significant weight—it meant that you were on your way here, it meant that you were coming home for the very first time since you had met. 

With a deep, steadying breath, he straightened his neck, feeling the anticipation rising within him, he felt an exhilarating rush of energy coursing through him. Slowly, he opened his eyes to the land stretching before him. 

Paradise. Where the sunlight seems almost tangible, it rises but never reaches its zenith. Colorful waves of grass stretch far and wide, dotted with small mounds of tiny white flowers, inviting anyone to rest their head on them.

This place was beautiful. At least this side of his kingdom was tranquil and robust with color. The birds choose to seek shelter and sleep here. It is where the souls who were granted peace would grow quiet and witness the king of the lands spend his mornings.

The place reminded him of a long-lost childhood. The music from the phoebes, the cold but gentle breeze. He wanted to run, he wanted to become one with the wind and not feel anything at all.

But alas, the dread came.

“What are you doing here, Clotho?” he asked, his voice was low and raspy from not speaking to anyone in what felt like months.

“It is time. Must follow tradition,” she said with a gentle tone, but Junhui knew better. He knew she was pressing on the importance of your arrival there. One of the Fates, only doing her work, but vague as to how to be tactful. 

“I am aware of that. Thank you,” he replied, turning to face her, turning his back on the land.

Her pale face looked stricken with worry and embarrassment as she lowered her eyes to the ground. “Forgive me.”

Jun raised his gaze to the silvery sky, trying not to roll his eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said coldly. “You’ve done nothing wrong.”

Clotho frowned. Those around him saw his apathy, and they took it as a sign that he was grieving his break-up with you. They were right; his heart was heavy with sorrow, even if he refused to show it. Beneath the surface, a storm of grief raged within him, slowly consuming him, even if he wore a mask of calm.

You came into his life in the most devastating way imaginable. Like a merciless wave, washing away everything that preceded you, leaving only you. Your arrival was not only abrupt, but it was like a shock that altered the course of his existence, forcing him to deal with the remains of the things you made him feel.

But then he lost you, all because of a lie. Now, as autumn slowly awakened, you were coming to him; it was time to make amends.

Only if you let him.

› author's note: heeeey (❁´◡`❁)

this is the prologue to a one shot i have planned to release on november 16th!

this is kind of a challenge for me because i never write detailed descriptions of places. i hope you like this one-shot. hehe

toodles!

support me on ko-fi? 🥹🩵

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[aebinspa]

tell me somethin' i don't know

PAIRING: gunwook x y/n reader

GENRES: fluff, gunwook is your brother's best friend (of course gyuvin is your brother), reader is a bit shy, they are the same age, reader is bad at math and gunwook is actually the solution to her problems!

WORD COUNT: 0.6k

AUTHOR'S NOTE: english is not my first language! i wrote this very short part about gunwook on the train and it will be the last thing i post for a while! i have already started to use my time to write a medium-length fic about karina that i hope will be better than the others i have written :) have a nice day!

The room of Gunwook, your brother's best friend, was strangely clean. Even after looking for several minutes in every corner, to then accuse him of something, you couldn’t find anything. The room was small but welcoming and on one side there was the enormous desk, with the books you would need for revision.

Sure, you didn’t hate Gunwook, but finding yourself suddenly, from one day to the next, at the house of one of Gyuvin’s most popular friends wasn’t exactly relaxing. Your brother Gyuvin certainly had everything a woman or a man could be interested in, but once you got to know him you couldn’t help but notice that he was missing something: a bit of tact.

“Y/n, you’re already here, ah” Gunwook, surprised, entered the room and closed the door behind him. Gunwook was popular, too popular for your tastes. You were the same age, you attended the same school but not the same section. The desperate sighs and screams you heard when you passed in front of his classroom, always surrounded by fans, made you turn on your heels every time.

If you had to describe your relationship with him, perhaps you would have reduced it to those greetings you sometimes exchanged when your eyes met. Nothing more. Except for one small detail: you too, like many others, found him extremely attractive and, on several occasions, he had shown you that he was kinder than Gyuvin’s other friends.

“Mathematics doesn't really get into your head, does it?” a bright smile almost made you regret not being very good with numbers. “Yeah. And Gyuvin decided to make my problem your problem, too,” you said, emphasizing the “your,” and the young man laughed. “We’ll show Gyuvin that the two of us are better than two Gyuvins.” This time it was you who laughed. “We are, without a doubt.”

Gunwook spent the next three hours explaining to you in detail everything you didn’t understand and, when necessary, he stopped to let you take a break. Sometimes your hands would touch and your breathing would synchronize; you tried desperately not to make it obvious that you weren’t indifferent to that closeness. Once you finished reviewing all the notes you had brought with you, you thanked Gunwook with a weak “thank you” to which he responded with a huge smile full of warmth.

“Well, Gyuvin didn't do anything wrong in calling me to help you.” “Sometimes he knows how to make himself useful!” you replied a little too enthusiastically, immediately ending up embarrassed by your own words. “Y/n, whenever you want, I’m always willing to give you a hand” “You don’t have to” You accidentally met your gaze in the nearby mirror and noticed the redness on your cheeks. What an idiot I am.

“Let me put it this way.” Gunwook settled back in his chair and took your hands in his, causing you to yelp a little, to which the boy responded by tilting his head and laughing, whispering “How stupid you are.” “Um, tell me.” “Next time, let’s go to a nice coffee shop to study or the library. Anywhere you like. I have an overwhelming urge to take you out on a date.” Your head was spinning a little, so you held his hands tighter as if seeking support.

“Maybe you got the wrong girl” That toothy smile didn't seem to leave Gunwook's face. “I don’t think that’s possible. I, well,” Gunwook ran his hand through his hair, “I need to get to know you better. Every time I talk to you or simply look at you my heart does flips. I don't know how I got through today's lesson without kissing or touching you."

"Oh, okay" “Is it a yes, Y/n?” Gunwook was now closer than expected. “Yes, I feel the same so how could I say no to you?” You were the same color as a tomato. Gunwook came closer and closed the distance between you by giving you a chaste and sweet kiss. You responded with a huff.

“You’re good with women” “Tell me something I don’t know, Y/n”

[im-out-of-it]

PSA KIND OF A RANT BUT ALSO JUST A GENUINE QUESTION BUT LIKE DOES ANYONE FEEL WEIRDED OUT THAT THE SHADOWHUNTER SERIES ARE KIND OF TARGETED FOR TEENS (I mean, aren’t they though)

I know I hate and shit on the shadowhunter series (SORRY IT DESERVES TO BE CRITICIZED) and y’all, I’m seriously okay with having characters have trauma and being complex (seriously I’m all for it!!!! I love those fascinating characters) but make these people young adults or something. because this should not be targeted for teens!!!!! LET ME REPEAT MYSELF!!!! THIS SHOULD NOT BE TARGETED FOR TEENS!!!!! I just don’t like the message it sends. I think it’s probably the worst in TMI.

oh if you’re abused or have a shit childhood, it’s okay to put that on others and make it their problem. oh if you’re boyfriend is toxic and emotionally abusive, it’s okay because y’all are soulmates apparently and your whole identity is about him!!!!!!! I don’t mind insane fantasy romances!!!! but don’t target it towards teens!!!!! I still get amazed that this incest toxic fantasy is for teens???????

I don’t know, it’s just weird that a 50+ year old woman is writing about teens having sex. like does anyone feel Cordelia was extremely sexualized????? there’s just so much problematic shit CC writes. and once again, I don’t believe that fantasy books should be “real” “make sense” or whatever excuse people want to use to defend misrepresentation, incest, or heavy topics (abuse, trauma) that are written poorly.

I don’t care if clary and jace aren’t actually siblings- they thought they were and they’re both toxic to one another, also the fact that clary is there to serve jace’s happiness is wild. so like if you want an outrageous fantasy world, that’s absolutely valid but don’t have it targeted for teens. this is my whole beef with the shadowhunter series (and more let’s be obvious) is that teens pick up these books and maybe they don’t understand (doesn’t a brain fully develop at 25 or something?????) and thinks the type of stuff that is in this book is okay or to be admired.

maybe I think too much of this (I’m a very heavy and emotional thinker/person who feels A LOT) and maybe teens don’t actually think this???? maybe they can differentiate that this is fiction and not to be admired? but it’s just weird reading about teens and all the problematic stuff they do. I’m in the young adult ish category so it feels uncomfortable at times for me. make them young adults or something!!!!!!

I’m probably just thinking too much into this lmao but does anyone else feel this way about the books???? and before someone says OmG dOn’T rEaD iF yOu DoN’t LiKe It- the only reason I read these books was because of show Malec and I stupidly thought it was going to be the same masterpiece and I was sorely mistaken- and then I read about the insane stuff CC has gotten away with (plagiarism, how she treated people in the Harry otter fandom, how she treats her own fans when they criticize her, like I think she’s actually insane) and I just feel like this fantasy world and some of these characters deserved better treatment and should’ve been put in the hands of an author who actually cared more. I’m just tired of problematic authors and writers ruining shit for us

[nightingale-prompts]

Bringing back another black-haired and blue-eyed boy was met with a round of sighs but acceptance.

Little Davey looked only a few years younger than Damian. 12 years old at the most. The boy was pale, slightly gaunt, with large eyes and matted black hair.

Davey was strange. He didn't understand social cues or how to exist in public. He knew next to nothing about how the world works or how to stay safe. Cars were familiar enough but only because he would be dragged into them or put in the trunk. He was very excited when he was allowed to touch the buttons.

Damian wasn't ready to be an older brother especially not to something like that thing. Davey felt wrong to Damian. Something that shouldn't exist.

Damian was proved right when the boy looked him right in the eyes and said.

"Play with me." He pulled Damian's drawn sword to his neck. "Cut me open!"

Bruce snatched Davey back from the blade and told Damian to put it away. Davey was forbidden from entering the Batcave and any dangerous items.

Damian was freaked out. Davey was too mentally disturbed to be here. However, the revenant is fond of his older brother and follows him around and begs him to play. Damian has to try pawning him off on the others but Davey is like glue.

Then there was food.

Davey didn't understand food. He had been fed a mostly liquid diet for his short life by Vlad. The liquid was made from nutrients and ectoplasm. After escaping Davey didn't know what food looked like. When strangers came up to him offering candy he took it. So he learned that candy was also food. But that wasn't enough to make him full, so he resorted to the closest form of ectoplasm he could find. Human blood. He learned that he could drink it for sustenance.

Feeding Davey for the first time was...sad. He was like a toddler learning what different flavors were. Sour, salty, and savory. All so new a wonderful.

Tim let him him have a sip of soda and Davey was hooked.

Tim is also banned from giving food to Davey after letting him try coffee and making him sick.

Stephanie is also banned after giving him spicy chips. Mostly because of Davey's need to harm himself caused him to eat himself sick.

Davey's issues are more than concerning. Dick was supposed to watch him while Bruce was investigating the last suicide linked to Davey. Davey didn't know how to talk to someone not trying to kill him. But Dick felt like him. The blood on his hands was the same as his. But the lingering scent of another pulled Davey elsewhere.

The other revenant.

One that felt a similar drive.

Bruce debated if Jason should meet Davey. It could help them both but it could easily make them worse. Davey was impressionable, to say the least, and Jason didn't need to bring someone else on his crusade.

Jason wouldn't use Davey like that but Davey would surely agree to it.

But Davey wasn't like Jason. He didn't kill. He gets killed. He lets himself be tortured until he drives others insane. Jason could never use him to kill the Joker. In fact, the clown must never know of Davey's powers or Davey might find his eternal playmate.

But it doesn't change that Jason and Davey will meet.

"Yeah, he's coming with me," Jason said picking up the boy under one arm.

"You can't just take him!" Dick yelled

"Do you guys think you can control him? That he'll stop wandering around looking for more targets. He can't and he won't. It's a part of him. At least I can get to his targets before they can kill him first. If he can sniff out any predator then he can use his powers for good." Jason said .

"He's not like us. He's a child and mentally he isn't ready for the outside world yet. I love you but I can't let you drag him into your mess." Dick said.

"And what? Fix him? He is a revenant and he's going to seek out his obsession. In a place like Gotham, he will find another target. He needs it." Jason barked.

There is no clear answer. They could try to preserve any innocence Davey had left but that same innocence led him to being tortured. They could also tell him what he's actually doing and he'll then do it on purpose knowingly killing others. What was better for him mentally because they all knew by this point Davey would strike again? It's his nature.

The only answer they had right now was finding where Davey died originally and calming his spirit. If they could find his original killer or make a grave for him then he'd settle.

Constantine was firm that Davey couldn't leave even if they calmed his soul. His life and death were too traumatic for him to disappear.

On the other side of the country, Danny had a bad feeling. He knew he should leave his clones to themselves and wait for them to come home on their own but his most recent clone brother bothered him. He wasn't like Elle at all. He was...odd. Danny decided not to worry too much since the clone was stable.

But then Vlad talked non-stop about losing his "precious boy". The word made him feel sick. Then there was the first death. Some offender that lived on the outskirts of town ended their life. The only reason anyone talked about it was the state he was found in. Blood was everywhere more blood than a single human body had and unknown chunks of meat scattered the ground.

Danny brushed it off but more started happening and they led a bloody trail.

Of course, Danny knew something was up. This all lined up perfectly with the clone's escape. But at the same time, all the victims were serial child murderers. It was hard to feel bad about it. He had found his obsession and it was such a bad one.

But Danny was still worried. A bit of investigation wouldn't hurt.

(This all came out as a stream of consciousness)

Lay Me to Rest- DCxDP Prompt

Warning: Blood and gore

There has been a series of murders across the country. Each death was varied and self-inflicted. At first, they all seemed like suicide but each had a strange range of symptoms before death.

Sudden paranoia, incoherent mumbling, screaming or yelling, going in and out of their homes sporadically, random fixations, and finally self-harm.

The victims were teachers, parents, businessmen, truckers, and even a crime novelist. All unrelated and in different states.

Each victim didn't seem to have a connection until an investigation discovered that each one had been an active serial killer. The body counts ranged from as little as 5 to as much as 23. The killer was named the Serial Serial Killer which wasn't creative but it was catchy. Some called them the Angel of Vengeance but most thought it was cringy and overdramatic. Many people didn't want them to be caught but others hotly debated letting a killer dispense justice when their crusade could easily turn into them killing people for innocuous things.

The police were still questioning whether this killer even existed. One thing was clear, there was a trail and it led straight to Gotham. A goldmine for them. Naturally, Batman had gotten a hold on the case and began an investigation.

The biggest question was how the killer found their victims and how they knew that they were killers.

The answer was obvious. They didn't need to figure it out. They just needed to wait. Why just in the effort to investigate when a serial killer tries to convince you to leave with them? So bars are the obvious place. But that's shaky at best since there is a period of torment that takes place that allows the victims to return home. The killer doesn't care if the victims could call the police, perhaps because they know their victim won't.

Bruce started to build a profile. He saw a pattern here. Each of the victims had a preference for their victims as well. They targeted young people, mainly boys. Odds are the Serial Serial Killer matched that description or age range. So bars weren't the hunting ground. So parks were more likely to go unnoticed and boys tended to hang out there longer after dark.

The killer was more than likely a victim himself so he may have a few scars but probably not noticeable enough that his would-be assailants would be turned off. There is no ignoring the predatory nature of the victims. Each killed children for gratification in some form. It's not that the boy is attractive but he probably has traits that the victims found attractive in children. So babyfaced, short, native, and polite.

There was much else Bruce could get. There was nothing concrete and he still didn't understand the method that was used. So far this was guesswork.

It wasn't until a few weeks later while he tracking another killer that he found his answer.

Dr.Kinder a Biologist by day and a killer who experiments on his victims at night had picked up a promising new lab rat a week ago. He had intended to slowly dissect the boy. He had gotten so used to the screams he stopped using anesthetics besides he wanted to see how the fear response caused the organs to shift.

To his surprise the boy didn't fight, in fact he seemed to jump to the table and say he didn't need restraints. Disturbing. But he was restrained anyways.

As the doctor cut him open the boy didn't react, only humming to himself as he watched the doctor.

"What are you hoping to find?" He asked. "I'm getting bored and this bearly hurts."

The boy annoyingly never stopped talking and never missed a chance to ruin the moment. There were never any screams or cries but incessant talking.

Dr.Kinder found the boy disturbing so he simply took an axe and chopped the boy into pieces. Not once did he make a sound. The doctor thought it was over but the next day the boy was back. He sat on the autopsy table kicking his feet in nothing but his bare skin.

"What the hell are you?" The doctor gasped in horror.

"I'm bored. Play with me again." The boy purred.

Bile crawled up his throat as the doctor restained this...thing again.

This time the boy spoke differently.

"You cut me up last time. Did you do that to the last boy. After you...you know." A sick grin spread across his cheeks.

The doctor cut open his neck this time and let him bleed out.

Everyday he came back and every day the doctor killed him until the time between his death got shorter and shorter. The days began to blur and he had no idea how long he had been doing this. But that thing kept talkimg to him.

Dr.Kinder stared down at his desk at the papers trying to think of anything but-

"I wonder what people would think about what you've done. You're a disgusting and depraved man doctor. Look at what you've done to me." The sing-song voice of that demon called out.

He could feel those blood-soaked arms wrapped around his neck.

He flinch as he pushed the thing away.

"Oh, are you going to beat me or stab me this time? Ooo, or are you going to put me through the woodchipper again?" The demon asked as the doctor wrapped his hands around his throat.

He just kept squeezing until the boy went limp. It never ends. The blood never goes away. It covered every surface of the room. Dripping, conjugating, and spreading into every corner. Whenever he turned his head he could see body parts spread across the room in the pools of blood he could they the faces of the others that he had killed. Each face wretched in agony.

"You hold on better than the others. I've been eaten, torched, and disemboweled before but after coming back a few times they usually end it after a few words. But every time they don't feel guilt. They just don't want to face consequences." The boy said. "Do you even remember my name? The one I told you when you picked me up on the side of the road or was I just another body to use and discard? I used the name of your first victim. I hoped you'd notice."

The doctor knew he couldn't kill the boy but he could end himself. He had tried it once but just like the kid he came back without a scratch.

"Not yet. This is your life now. Come on, let's taste death together. Again and again and again and again and-" he repeated over and over.

This was hell. This was his hell.

But it came to an end eventually. Dr.Kinder put an end to himself in a gruesome display.

Batman had only caught the tail end as he faced a young boy standing an a pool of blood.

****

"Yeah, that thing is like a worse version of a revenant. Doesn't really have a name yet to describe it. It's undead for sure. You kill it and it just comes back." Constantine said "Why did you bring it here?"

After a long bath and some new clothes, the kid looked normal as played on a phone given to him.

"Look, I didn't know what else to do." Bruce explained.

"You leave it alone!" Constantine said exasperated "Look they are harmless to anything they don't bear a grudge towards. Think of it as a force of nature." Constantine said.

"I just want to know how to stop him." Bruce said.

"Well you can't kill it but you can't bring him back entirely. You can just soothe it 'till it stops targeting its victims. It must have died pretty gruesomely to go to these lengths. You need to find where it died and lay it to rest. Properly." Constantine sighed knowing that appeasing this soul would be more than just difficult.

"Danny, come on. Let's go." Bruced said putting a hand on the boy's head as Danny stood up to leave.

"Okay. Bye!" Danny waved to Constantine.

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Another reason why this show keeps getting better - PSA prioritising mental health and normalising seeking help

Wandee Goodday, episode 7

[juanitasupreme]

To think that I will have to be subject to people thristing over that eyebrowless beast again

[sea-of-machines]

uhh why tf is tumblr having users who have literal ww2 nazis as their blorbos and why is my suggested posts suddenly full of that shit

[ladyhavilliard]

i've long understood why representation is important but i don't think I actually felt for myself how important it can be until reading loveless and watching Isaac's journey in heartstopper this year... My best friend is ace, but we have very different opinions/feelings/experiences/whatever when it comes to this. I have known about the aro/ace spectrums for so long. And yet knowing and actually seeing/reading someone go through a similiar experience resonates with you unlike anything else.

[alanaisalive]

On one hand, getting older isn't the end of the world, and it's fine, but on the other hand, after a certain point, each passing year brings more pain and death and grief and fewer things to look forward to other than more pain and death and grief and I can't remember what the point of any of this is anymore and I am not doing well

[pregablin]

I dreamt that the Swedish police had a piss k!nk, probably not far from the truth...

[latimeria-fell-from-heaven]

Real guys:

Me: okay not bad..

2D / 3D guys:

Me: Rail-

honestly same, but at least real guys can dick me down and give me a good time lol,, fictional men just help me figure out what i want in a relationship and that's okie doki :))

[anthology-moved]

Now that I get more stuff from disability tags on Tumblr dot com, I'm seeing lots more posts about how to use walking sticks specifically, mostly targeted at artists and writers actually. And that's good! But I'd also like to raise that like, disabled people do use aids wrong sometimes - maybe even on purpose.

Speaking for myself here, I used a walking stick for about two years, one of those years using it pretty much every time I left the house, before I found out you were supposed to use it on your stronger side. (Left leg giving you problems? Stick goes in your right hand).

Even now that I do know - if I'm having a particularly bad time, where my hip or my knee won't bear weight, I will still use it on my bad side and lean on it heavily, even though you're Not Supposed To Do That. But, I'm still on the waiting list to get assessed for a more appropriate walking aid, like crutches, so I have to make do.

All this to say, someone who is just starting out - especially if they bought their own walking stick - might not know how to use it. especially if they aren't involved in the disabled community or have disabled friends. Know the rules before you bend them etc.

[firstofficerkittycat]

the wildest thing about this post is that u guys thought i was talking about 14/15 as my last choice out of every other possible option like no when i say im not into it that doesnt mean i am somehow unaware of those 2 and their mitosis homoerotica. their beth sanchez/beth sanchez toxic therapy speedrun swag. they Will get married in a san junipero simulation i just dont care its none of my business

i have never been into doctor who selfcest and if i did these 2 would be my absolute last choice but like. such an incredibly rare and beautiful thing as the potential somewhere out there for the ship name 9/11 cannot go ignored i have to pursue this. i have to

[justonefeather]

Ok really quick bc nobody is awake that I can vent to. Losing patience for the long time friend like. Treats people like an accessory then expects priority friend? Yeah idk like if you're gonna keep hanging out with the dude who abused you, threatened me and my bf, hits on 20 year old girls when he's well into his 30s, and screams at his mother.. you know full well the quality of person he is.. you know he refuses to change bc he thinks he's NOT a piece of shit.. like sorry but after this many years I don't have sympathy left, you keep saying oh I'm so done, but you aren't, you left him for a reason but you keep going to his mom's house to hang out with him? Like you can't actually expect me to feel bad when you inevitably complain that's he's the same person he was last year.... You have seen who he is over and over.... You don't rely on him anymore so you can't claim you can't leave, at this point you're choosing this ?? Like come the fuck on

[givtit]

i'm rotting on the inside actually