#tw bodily harm

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt 4 of forever teen Danny adopted JJ Tim and Red Hood Jason. Sorry if you're a Batman or Nightwing fan, I'm not nice to them in this one.

[Pt3: Here][pt5: here]

The last 4 years have been a riot. Danny has 2 wonderful and slightly unhinged boys that he stole from the Bats. They've gotten in so many shenanigans, between normal vigilante shit, the Bats and/or ghost/supernatural hunters trying to bag them, and them just fucking around.

It's the most fun he's had in a while. They're good kids, but they, of course, have started branching out. They're 19 (Jason) and 17(Tim) now and don't necessarily want their dad following them around. So Danny gave them his personal summons just in case and made them promise to stay close together, the two of them are good at covering for the other's weaknesses. Like how Tim only being Liminal, he can take more hits from the ghost hunters that will clock Jason as a Revenant or Jason's supernatural strength taking out the bigger assholes that target Tim for his small size or Joker mannerisms.

So he tries not to worry, simply going to work and trusting them to either deal with any trouble themselves or summon him. And for 3 months they don't need to summon him once. But at the end of month 3, he feels it.

"Hey, Eddy! I got to go! My kids are in trouble!" Danny calls to his boss, already moving to somewhere there's less witnesses to see him poof.

"Okay! See ya! ...Wait, you have kids?" Danny doesn't answer, letting the summons take ahold and pull him through the fabric of reality.

A fun side effect of being summoned is that he always ends up in his High King form. The form is humanoid in the vaguest of sense. It's also just stars and the void of space. His eyes are giant stars and his mouth is too wide and full of rows and rows of needle-like teeth. A crown of ice smokes like dry ice on his head and the ring of rage is simple stripe of neon green on his right hand's middle finger (he thought it'd be funny to flip people off with it). All in all, he's terrifying for mortals to see unprepared.

And the cussing around him tells the people hassling his sons are NOT prepared.

"HOW THE FUCK DID YOU SUMMON THE GHOST KING???" A very distraught British man shrieks. Danny would feel bad, but this idiot is standing near the Bat and Nightwing AND Danny's sons are tied up in front of them.

"DAaaaAD!" Tim whines, flopping over to look at him. "They're trying to excorise Hoodie!"

"Are they now?" Danny hisses. His voice sounds like glaciers crashing together.

"Bats! What the fuck??? You didn't tell me THAT WAS THEIR DAD!" British man sounds on the brink of a mental breakdown.

"We've never seen this entity." Batman frowns.

"Yeah! They've been calling a ghost kid dad this whole time!" Nightwing defends. "How were we supposed to know they could summon this guy??"

"What...what did you say the "kid"'s name was?" British dude asks faintly.

"We didn't." Batman says.

"Weeell, Johnny-boy!" Jason sounds like he has a shit eating grin. "What they didn't tell you is our sweet ol' adoptive father is called Phantom~!"

"Oh goodie! We're so dead..." "Johnny" says and starts chugging his flask of probably alcohol. It suddenly clicks that this is the fabled John Constantine.

"You should know better than to take a job half-assed, John Constantine." Danny grins with teeth.

"Oh good, he knows my name.." Constantine mumbles to himself.

"Give me one good reason to not kill you all for trying to kill my son and kidnap the other." Danny waves a hand and slices his sons' bindings. "I have only been so patient with you bats because my sons are fond of you, but my patience is running out."

"Tim belongs with us! He needs help and healing!" Nightwing proclaims.

"I talk to a licensed therapist twice a week and take my meds every day! Try again, Big Birdie!!" Tim snarls. "Just because I'm not what you want me to be doesn't mean I'm a broken doll in need of saving!"

"Besides, don't you have a new bird to destroy?" Jason asks with a head tilt. "The second birdie died, the third got mentally fucked, the four died... I think we can count birdie #1 as mentally fucked up, meaning if we follow the pattern, birdie #5 will be mentally fucked by the time he flies the nest."

"How do you know so much about us, Red Hood?" Batman demands with a scowl.

"He doesn't have to tell you anything!" Tim steps in front of Jason and glares.

"I'm still waiting on a reason to not kill you." Danny reminds them. The bats look towards Constantine.

"Don't look at me, mates. That's head bitch of all head bitches. The fact he's letting you plead your case after threatening what he deems as his is a step up huge from most overpowered dead guys. From what I heard, the last guy would have just killed us the moment he was summoned and then destroyed the whole dimension afterwards. This guy beat that guy in single combat." Constantine pulls out a cigarette before addressing Danny, "Your Majesty, I had no idea these were your kids. I was just told a Revenant had kidnapped and "brainwashed" the ex-Robin. Clearly, I wasn't told accurate information."

Nightwing sputters, "What Do You Mean?? Clearly Tim has been brainwashed or something!!"

Constantine whips around to Nightwing, "Oh shut up, you big blue twit! King Phantom DESPISES mind control! Which means your ex-bird is with these two completely willingly."

"There's n-" Nightwing tries, but Constantine bulldozes on.

"I don't know what you did to the kid, nor do I care. But he's considered ROYALTY to the dead and undead now. He doesn't have to have ANYTHING to do with you. If you take him away from his new and apparently accepting family, that's considered an interdimensional crime, and no magician or supernatural or even god-like being will help you." Constantine takes a long drag of his cigarette. "I suggest you apologize, make your excuses, then leave them the fuck alone. Besides, chas been at a record low in Gotham from what I hear. Let them do what they want. "

"That's because Red Hood keeps killing the Rouges!" Nightwing protests. "Who gives him the right to be judge, jury, and executioner???"

Constantine points to Danny and says flatly. "The ruler of basically everything, that's who."

Danny grins at him, his ghost half is very pleased with the man. "I shall spare you, magic man."

Constantine looks like he's going to faint from relief, moving to park himself by the door. "Just fucking apologize and leave them be, Bats."

"But!" Nightwing looks like he's going to cry. He turns his teary eyes to Tim. "Why can't you just come home, Timmy?"

"What home?" Tim stares down his nose at Nightwing, anger clear in his voice. "The Manor was Never my home. I was simply the stand in for your and B's grief for a boy you both pushed to his death. Phantom showed me what family really was. And that was AFTER I was too broken for you to accept. I was NOT Joker Junior then or now. I'm my own fucking person and I'm staying with the family that accepts me for ALL my oddities."

"You tried to put him in Arkham when he tried to go to you." Red Hood growls. "He wanted your support and help and you were going to lock him up and throw away the key."

"We were n-"

"YOU WERE!" Tim starts to trembling in hurt and rage. "You couldn't even look at me! I wanted you so badly to help me and you were going to put me in there right next to Harley! I wanted you to be my family, but I've only ever been a tool to you!"

"You weren't-" Danny doesn't like how the Bats seem ready to jump at his kids, so he freezes the Bats' feet to the floor.

"Shut up, Dickwing." Jason snarls, pulling Tim into a hug. "You lost your chance to be his brother 4 years ago. Go pretend to care about the new cannon fodder. We don't want to hear it."

"Hood." Batman finally speaks. "Who are you?"

"Who do you think, old man?" Jason takes his hood off for the first time ever in front of the Bats. They visibly startle, recognizing him despite all the changes.

"Ja-" The Bat starts.

"Shut up." Jason glares. "You were a shit dad and brother to me in life. I found the BEST family in death."

Danny picks up his boys, deciding to let them decide on the severity of the Bats' punishment. "Maiming or death?"

"... I say maim, but only because I know the newest bird and want him to stay out of the death cult his mother's in." Jason says softly. The Bats sqawk as they Just realize Danny froze their feet to the floor. Mortal tools and fire can't break/melt his ice, but it's amusing to watch the bats try.

Tim is quiet for nearly 3 whole minutes, locked in some sort of internal battle, before he answers. "Maim in a, at least mostly, healable way. Gotham needs Batman, even if we don't."

"Hmm." Danny ignores the Bats' protests to think about what he should do. "Ah! I know exactly what to do!"

He unfreezes their feet and gently forces both to the ground and processes to break both of Nightwing's legs and both of Batman's arms. He pulls one of their coms off and hands it to Tim, he's the only one that sounds normal on normal tech. Jason hasn't been able to use normal tech since Danny fixed his ecto, so Danny modifies anything he or Jason use.

"Hi, Agent A! Batgirl!" Tim's cheerful tone barely hides his seething rage. "You should send a pick up for Dickiebird and B-man! They need medical attention! Ba-bye~!"

Danny can hear the shouting over the com, but Tim simply yeets it towards the Bats instead of listening to whatever they have to say.

"I have a reason for the injuries I picked." Danny informs the room. Jason and Tim look intrigued, Constantine looks exhausted and slightly guilty about the Bats getting hurt on his watch, and the Bats themselves look dazed and in pain, so who knows if they'll remember his reasonings. "Nightwing is an acrobat and truly a bird, so grounding him is cruel, but hopefully he feels as small and helpless as you both did. Grounding him will give him time to think on his actions and their consequences."

Danny's sons look curiously at the grounded Nightwing before looking back to him.

"I broke Batman's arms so that he's forced to ask for help and communicate. He's far too old for his shitty behavior." Danny frowns. "They both need therapy, but I doubt the flying furries will actually get the help they need."

Tim suddenly cackles in delight. "Maybe THEY should check THEMSELVES into Arkham! Ya know! Since they think I, the one ACTUALLY getting help, should be in there!"

Jason starts cackling alongside his brother while Danny chuckles.

"I shall take my children home now, good day." Danny says while wrapping his sons in his invisibility and intangibility and takes them home. A cozy 3 bedroom apartment on the top floor of a building Jason owns as Red Hood.

[linny-bloggs]

Hole in One!

oldmoney!gojo x golfer!reader

content/warnings: this is mostly background for readers character, character death, car wrecks, trauma, bodily harm, golf crashout, fem reader implied (though I’ll try not to use pronouns), toxic family dynamics, financial stress, misogyny, mahito. {I think that’s it but if you see anything you feel needs to be tagged please let me know so I can do it!!!}

a/n: this is a kind of re-write for my other “Hole in one!au” I didn’t really like how I wrote it, but I had a much better version of the story in my head, so please enjoy! And if you have any ideas please let me know!!!

golfer!reader who has played golf since they were little, but never really put anything into the sport until their freshman year of high school. Their best friend begged them to play on the school team with them, because they wanted to try out but didn’t want to be alone.

golfer!reader who started to enjoy the sport because they had a best friend to do it with, both of them pushing each other to be the best they could, while still enjoying what they were doing. Both ending up on the varsity team, and traveling to almost every tournament together.

golfer!reader who plays no matter the weather, going to the second biggest tournament of their junior year in a torrential downpour. Their team placing first, securing their place in the state tournament, only to spin off of the road on their way back from regionals. Their school Suburban flipping and roof caving in over a large rock.

golfer!reader who’s last view before passing out from blood loss is their best friend’s mouth dripping blood, her eyes growing dull, and her white shirt staining red around the piece of metal sticking through her torso. The last sound they hear being their best friend’s wheezing breaths and pained whimpers.

golfer!reader who finished the year wearing joggers and leggings to every tournament because of the massive scar running up their thigh.

golfer!reader who cries during the awards ceremony at the state tournament. Not letting the officials put the medal on them, taking a key and scratching your name off of the medal, before using a sharpie to write your best friend’s name on it.

golfer!reader who stops showing up to end of season practices because one of the pro-shop workers commented on not seeing a few players on the course for a while.

golfer!reader who’s parents didn’t support them going to college, putting all of their money into their sister, who spent it all frivolously, and was sending them into debt. In turn forcing them to re-join the golf team the spring of their senior year so they could hopefully get a scholarship that would pay for most of if not all of their tuition fees.

golfer!reader who starts to use golf as an outlet, spending hours on the course, playing holes and hitting balls on the driving range. Always in some type of golf shirt, pants, and a gold necklace their best friend’s wore around everywhere, with the same symbol they both had on their matching custom ball markers that attached to their gloves.

golfer!reader who doesn’t use that ball marker anymore, scared they are going to lose it, so they bought a magnetic clip to go on their hat that holds the new marker that they do use.

golfer!reader who becomes the best player on the team because of the countless hours they spend on the course every day, Eventually leading their team to another state victory.

golfer!reader who almost almost gets kicked off the course when some prick made the comment “the least they could be doing was put on a show in their cute little golf skirts instead of a pair of joggers, if their school is going to be using the club’s golf course for free” and they slapped him in the face

golfer!reader who now thinks badly of all those associated to that prick, who they later learned was named mahito, because why would anyone want to be around that type of person? Brushing off all people who they see hang around him, including one of his friends with snowy white hair, who was obnoxiously loud on the course without taking any golf etiquette into consideration.

golfer!reader who end the season as one of the top 5 high school players in the entire nation, despite their problems while practicing. Getting several full ride options to basically anywhere they could ever want to go, and ends up signing with one of the top colleges in the country, both academic, and athletic wise.

golfer!reader who curses whatever being is out there when they show up to freshmen orientation and see a certain set of blue eyes staring at them.

that is the end of the re-written first part!!!! I’ve gotten quite a bit of good feedback so far, but please please please like, comment, and re-blog if you are enjoying!!! Thank you everyone!!!

[sweefis-the-dingus]

So much stuff… but mostly for bluesky au.

Tw: bodily harm and blood.

//

//

[multiversal-pudding]

ep 6 spoilers-

In the cannibal Alice scene, it’s implied Uzi bit off the uppermost segment of Alice’s index finger- we see that’s the joint she fiddles with and the part she replaces

After replacing it, Alice then goes and cuts the exact same finger at the exact same joint off Uzi with the boltcutters, actively pausing so Uzi can see what she’s doing before doing it

Alice wasn’t doing that for oil (mostly), she did that because she was being petty about Uzi biting her-

[kronoose]

no need to say goodbye part 2

TW past child death cannibalism religion bodily mutilation loss of bodily autonomy 

Arthur shuddered at the noise he takes a few moments to recompose himself glad he couldn't see “can you call off the other bugs “ 

“A grin has spread across his face he is making his way towards the barricade”

“May I have a hand moving this barricade it seems this arm doesn't quite work right “

Arthur moves over to help move the barricade 

“he is watching us far too close for comfort“ 

Arthur nods slightly as he starts to move the furniture grunting with effort wincing slightly as something shifted wrong under the strain of effort and exhaustion

“Are you alright favored”

“Fine os- scratch “he said with slightly more bite then intended 

“He has tilted his head slightly like a curious dog you've almost move enough for him to slip through”

Arthur chuckled softly “that should be good enough”he raised a fist to his mouth to cover a yawn that escaped 

“He's moved to the opening you've cleared”

Scratch stepped through the door closing it behind himself leaving it open just a crack, as if leaving the invitation open for Arthur to follow an invite that was left unanswered as Arthur collapsed into a chair.

“I don't think I can drive but I also don't know if Oscar can drive ”

A deep laugh escaped from John “scratch has been trapped for 30 years I doubt he would be able to drive anyways “

Arthur laughed softly “probably not”his head jolts up as a series of thuds followed by sickening squelching 

“🎶a hunting I shall a hunting I shall go my favorite has ask me so a hunting I shall go🎶” an eerie mixture of Oscar and scratch’s voice floats through the cracks of the door 

Arthur shuddered “i don't think he's sending them off the way I ”he trailed off as his head drops down 

“you’ve done good Arthur you can rest now” a soft smile graces John's face as he keeps an eye out for scratch glad he can't hear much when Arthur sleeps

Arthur opened his eyes and glanced around the familiar office. It took him a few moments to realize he could actually see “john?” he waited a few minutes, the lack of response unsettled him deeply 

“Who's John papa?”a small familiar voice asked 

Arthur quickly turned towards the source he recoiled at the sight of her blue tinged skin her hair still damp resting on her shoulders “a friend Faroe dear” he stuttered out 

“You ok?”a bit of water falls from her mouth as she spoke oh so softly looking up to Arthur 

“Yes I'm fine“ he looked around trying to take it all in trying to spot if anything else was wrong, when he looked back he did a double take as he watched the colour drain from her skin turning to stone “FAROE!?”

“you have failed Me dada” a far too old voice for the body it's coming from answered “and for that you shall pay when I get him back you will never wake from the hell I will put you through “ 

“What are you”he glared down at this being using his child’s image 

“I'm a being of fear that will make your time in the prison pits seem like a luxury vacation” a dark smile graced her lips “and there's nothing that petulant king or that blood soaked demon will be able to do about it”

Arthur scoffed “I'd like to see you try”

“Would you like a taste of what I'll do to you when I hunt you down in whatever realm you find yourself in” 

With that she waved a tiny hand and the scene changed to a church Oscar stood behind the Dias palm facing the sky as he spoke “Take and eat this is My body” he lifts his severed arm and bows his head to the arm he paused for a moment before setting it back on the golden plate he raised a crystalline goblet the red liquid sloshing lightly “Drink from it, all of you. This is My blood of the covenant, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins” he bows his head to the goblet. He set it down and nods to the man standing off to the side. Arthur turned to look over the man he'd not payed any mind to as he was a bit lost in admiring how hot Oscar looked in the robes 

A large man with graying brown hair who moved to lift the goblet as Oscar continued with the blessing of the blood and body 

Oscar turns to look Arthur dead in the eyes as he digs his fingers into his dismembered arm ripping a decent chunk of flesh away with a sickening noise he moved the bit of meat in the gesture of the cross over the goblet before dropping it in 

Arthur watched in horror finding he couldn't move or look away 

Oscar continued staring into his soul as he rips of a second piece repeating the sign of the cross before placing the bit of flesh in his mouth Oscar moves around the dais with his arm Arthur felt his legs moving as he started towards the dais he cups his hands with palms up 

“The body of Christ “ Oscar holds up a bit of his arm 

“Amen” Arthur respond without thinking allowing Oscar to place the bit of flesh in his mouth he chewed it as he went back to his original position he falls to his knees as he watched the not quite right patrons eat of the flesh every time the taste started to fade from mouth he was forced to return to accept this fucked up communion once more

It was the silence that woke Arthur “John?”he called out with a shakily there was a long pause 

“You're awake already?”the shock evident in the entity's voice “you should try and rest more it's only been an hour maybe two ”

“Where's Oscar i assumed he'd be back watching over us ”he shuddered slightly 

“he hasn't returned I heard him moving around a while ago “

Arthur nods “we should keep an eye on him who knows what we may have missed”he pushed himself out of the chair

“You're right but you still need sleep” john spoke firmly but with a gentleness 

Arthur said nothing as he made his way to the door 

“The bugs Arthur they're gone i can see marks of some kind i cant tell if they're claw marks or dents “

Arthur shuddered and moved his head slowly side a gesture that would seem like he was scanning his surroundings but hes blind so more accurate would be letting his demon scan the area “see him?”

“Not yet the hall looks less ominous in this lighting”

Arthur paused at the top of the stairs tilting his head listening for any movement from scratch

Both man and god are shocked at the smell of burning which prompted Arthur to take the stairs two at a time as they head towards the kitchen where they were greeted by the smell of burning worms

[artist-kreating-stuff]

Lullaby

Clone OC & GN!Mercenary/Trainer Reader

TW: referenced abuse

If a lonely traveler walked into a bar and asked all in attendance what they thought the worst planet in the galaxy was, they would most likely receive more than one answer. Tatooine is a popular answer; a desert planet where water is so scarce, it costs an arm and a leg for enough water to last a single family an entire week. Mustafar is a close second - nothing more than a floating ball of magma and ash. Both planets were considered near-incapable of sustaining sentient life.

Though if that same traveler asked you for your opinion, you were certain your answer would put all others to shame.

Kamino.

Unlike Tatooine or Mustafar, Kamino was a primarily ocean world, completely dominated by seas and thunderstorms. And unlike those two planets, this planet had an abundance of life centered in the cluster of domed buildings that made up Tipoca City. Life forms were created by other life forms in that city.

But with how those new life forms were treated, Kamino may as well be as unsustainable as Tatooine or Mustafar.

Everyone outside of Kamino knew the basic gist of the situation. The Kaminoans (or the “natives”) had a contract with the Galactic Republic to create what were essentially genetically altered super soldiers for the Republic’s army. The super soldiers were referred to as “clone troopers”, as they were all created from the DNA of a single man. The clones were engineered to age twice as fast as ordinary citizens, allowing them to enter their prime sooner so that they could be ready to fight in the ongoing war between the Galactic Republic and the Confederacy of Interdependent Systems.

But no one knew what went on behind the scenes. They didn’t know of the terrifying exercises that would make even the most hardened criminals run away in horror, yet were forced onto children as young as five. They didn’t know of the demeaning lessons that preached how the clone troopers’ lives were essentially worthless in comparison to the lives of those they served, yet most of the troopers took as gospel. They didn’t know of the horrific experiments that went on in the depths of the city, that the Kaminoans claimed were “all to make them better soldiers”.

They didn’t know what exactly happened to a trooper when they stepped out of line.

You had been living on Kamino nearly since the beginning of the cloning project, yet you still managed to find things that turned your stomach. You were a mercenary, one of the best (in your opinion). Your skills were adequate to the point that the conservative Kaminoans deigned themselves to reach out to you and offer you a trainer contract for the new “clone army”. Credits are credits, so you’d agreed after little debating.

Not many people had even known Kamino existed before the clone army came into the public eye, so you hoped you’d be forgiven for not knowing of the exact hellscape you’d signed yourself up for.

After truly witnessing the mess you’d stepped into, you’d tried to rectify it wherever you could. Whenever you heard a cadet complaining about feeling hungry, you’d slip them an extra ration or two. Whenever you noticed a cadet limping or injured in any way, you’d grab the nearest bacta kit and fix them up yourself. Whenever one of the other trainers berated a batch for failing in the latest exercise, you’d take them all aside later and offer what little words of encouragement you could to boost their spirits and punch the trainer in private. Whenever it was your turn to train the cadets, you taught them how to survive, nothing more.

Just because you were a mercenary didn’t mean you didn’t have a heart.

All of this was done under the radar of the ever-observant Kaminoans, of course. The galaxy was crawling with mercenaries hungry for extra credits - all it would take is one slip up for the Kaminoans to terminate their contract with you and hire someone else to train the cadets. There was no way to tell if the next trainer would care for the clones as much as you did, though, so you did your best to keep your head down and do your vigilantism in private.

Lights-out was the only time you could work freely. With most of the Kaminoans and trainers either asleep or elsewhere in the city, you could walk the barracks without fear of being spotted and reported. Armed with rations, bacta kits, and caf (mostly for your own sanity), you moved from barrack to barrack, checking in on the cadets and offering your assistance to any nightbat that was still awake.

One lights-out in particular stood out for you. It started out ordinary, with you armed with your supplies, slipping through the shadows of the barracks like a ghost. So far, no cadets had been in need of comfort, so it looked like it was going to be an easy night. Admitting it made you feel somewhat guilty, but you preferred nights like those: quiet on the home front. To you, it meant that for once, all of the cadets felt safe and content.

Then a sound reached your ears. It was a sound foreign to Kamino, as it usually led to a cadet being decommissioned for weakness. It was a sound that you didn’t hear as often as you probably should have, given what went on in such a horrible place.

It was the sound of crying.

You followed the sound until you reached the barracks where the younger cadets slept, often referred to as the “tween” cadets. The younger batches got their own rooms until they were old enough to be moved into the larger barracks, which were shared by all of the older cadets. The arrangement made it easier for you to help the younger batches, as it meant you didn’t have to climb a ladder in order to reach the cadets in need.

The sound was coming from a room at the very end of the barracks; loud enough for you to hear it, though soft enough to imply that whoever was crying was trying their best to keep quiet. However, whoever else was in the room with them could clearly hear them, for as you got closer you could clearly hear several bouts of “Go to sleep, ya big baby!” and “You’ll get us all in trouble - you want that?”

Hoo boy, you thought as you approached the door. It’s gonna be one of those incidents.

You punched in your code and the door slid open easily. Lo and behold, four of the five beds were empty, with four tween cadets standing around the one occupied bed. From what you could see through the gaps between them, the poor little cadet on the bed was lying on his side in a fetal position, facing the wall and shaking with the force of his sobs. His batch mates tried to keep him quiet with comforting touches to his head, neck, and shoulders, but they mostly verbally berated him for his weakness.

Either they were afraid of being discovered and getting collectively punished or they were all just exhausted and irritated by the cadet’s crying. Regardless, it was time for a third party to step in.

None of the cadets acknowledged you coming into the room, seemingly too wrapped up in keeping their distressed batch mate quiet to notice. When you finally cleared your throat to get their attention, they all seemed to jump out of their skins. The four standing cadets scrambled to assume parade rest in front of their superior, but once they saw it was you, they immediately relaxed. You couldn’t help the smile that curled your mouth at the sight. You had worked hard to build a mutual understanding with all of the cadets over the years, and the fact that they trusted you enough to relax in your presence made you more happy than you dared to admit.

“Mind telling me what’s going on here?” You asked the assembled cadets gently.

“We don’t really know,” One of them spoke up. He gestured to the cadet on the bed, who had rolled over during the split second commotion and was now gazing at all those gathered with watery brown eyes. “Crybaby here just started bawling and we couldn’t get him to stop!”

“Yeah, and he refuses to tell us what’s wrong!” Another cadet spoke up, sounding equally annoyed with the situation.

“Well, I’m sure all four of you crowding him didn’t help matters much,” You scolded them, though there was little heat behind your words. You waved the chastised cadets aside so that you could kneel beside the still-distressed cadet’s bed. “Hello there,” You greeted them softly, resting your forearms on the bed. “Can you tell me what’s going on?”

The cadet stared at you with wide eyes, sniffling and whimpering. His gaze darted to his batch mates, still crowding around his bedside with expectant expressions, and he shook his head the tiniest bit.

“Won’t speak with an audience, will you?” You asked. When the cadet nodded his head minutely, you sighed and turned to his batch mates. “I’ll talk to him in the hallway - the rest of you can go back to sleep.”

“I-in the hallway? O-out in the open?” One of the cadets asked, casting a worried look towards the closed door, the symbol of privacy and security. “I-if the trainers o-or the long necks were to catch you…”

“If one of the trainers catch us, they’ll know better than to tell the long necks,” You assured them with a sly smile. “I have quite the reputation, you know. If one of the Kaminoans catch us, though…” Your voice trailed off in unease. It was a possibility, of course, but not one you wanted to think about. “I will deal with them in that scenario. It will work itself out either way. Besides, you all need your rest.”

“I hear that,” Another cadet agreed with a yawn, stretching his arms over his head. “Maybe we’ll finally get some shuteye with that crybaby out of here.”

“All of you. Bed. Now,” You ordered, having had enough of the squad’s bluntness.

With the rest of the squad properly scolded, you stood and gestured for the distressed cadet to follow you. When he only folded into himself further, you huffed and looped your arms around his upper back and knees, lifting him up off the bed. Despite his initial resistance, he barely even squirmed against your touch. You’d learned a long time ago that the clones craved physical touch from those they trusted, though it still surprised you how so many of them melted so easily against you. It was just another sign of how much they’d grown to trust you, and the thought was overwhelming at times.

Your “package” acquired, you turned to leave when one of the cadets timidly called out to you from their bed, “Um… I’m a little hungry…”

You huffed and moved closer to the cadet’s bed. “Reach into my pocket - only take one,” You instructed him, as your hands were full. The cadet smiled gratefully up at you and did as he was told. When he’d finally procured his prize, you hoisted your package higher into your arms and left the room.

Compared to the earlier excitement, the silence in the hallway was deafening. You couldn’t hear anything besides the small noises you were making as you moved throughout the space, so you hoped that meant that everyone else was still asleep or elsewhere. With any luck, no one of consequence would hear your little conversation.

“Now,” You whispered to the cadet in your arms as you leaned against the wall and slid to the floor. “Mind telling me what caused you to cry at Maker-damn o’clock?”

For a long minute, the cadet only sniffled as his head lifted and fell with your chest as you breathed. You’d started to think that he’d cried himself back to sleep when he finally muttered, “I had a nightmare.”

Nightmares were certainly nothing new in such a dark place, but this was the first time a cadet had openly admitted that they were crying because of one. Your interest was immediately peaked. “About what?”

The cadet took a deep, shaky breath before he continued, “I was in the training room. I was all alone - none of my squad was there with me. The trainers told me over the intercom to complete the exercise in front of me… I’ve never completed an exercise by myself before.”

“Oh, that already sounds scary,” You admitted in an equally hushed tone.

The cadet agreed with a small nod against your chest. “The exercise itself… I had to dodge all of these blades,” He went on, his voice becoming more breathy and small. “The farther I went, the more they cut me… the more they took from me…” His fingers curled into the thin fabric of your uniform as he pressed himself further into you, as if he was seeking out every ounce of comfort he could find. “They took my limbs until all that was left was my chest, arm and head crawling towards the finish line. When I got there, all the trainers would tell me was what I did wrong, what I should have done… that I’m a failure of a trooper…”

With that, he dissolved back into sobs, pressing his face even further into your chest. All you could do was hold him and rock back and forth, shushing him as a gentle reminder to keep his voice down. His description of his nightmare terrified you as well, and it was a haunting insight into just what the cadets faced on Kamino everyday. Nightmare fuel disguised as “training”, horrific accidents renamed as “lessons”. All to prepare them for the horrors of the war.

All in the name of the Republic.

Maker, these were children.

It both saddened you and made your blood boil, but you were perfectly aware of the fact that there was simply nothing you could do. Whether you liked it or not, the news holos were always boasting about one Republic victory or another. You were but one person against an entire galaxy that needed them.

All you could do was be there for them during moments like these.

“That sure was a nasty dream,” You whispered to the cadet as he finally began to calm down. “But it’s over now, isn’t it? The nightmares are all in your head while your squad is here, in the real world. You know they would never leave you to face a challenge by yourself.”

The cadet sniffed loudly. “They wouldn’t?”

“Of course not - you’re their brother.” That was another thing you admired about the clones. Despite their difficult upbringing, they viewed each other as brothers, as family. If only such a bond was galaxy-wide; a civil war wouldn’t be necessary then. “They have a moral obligation to protect you. Plus, if you died…” You lowered your voice even more as if you were sharing a grave secret. “They would have to deal with you haunting them for the rest of eternity!”

Even with tears still running down the cadet’s face, he still managed a weak laugh. “I’d make such a good ghost,” He told you conspiratorially.

“I’m sure you would,” You agreed, tickling his sides lightly to coax even more giggles out of him. When he quieted down again, you thought it best to ask, “Why didn’t you tell your squad about your nightmare? I know they weren’t being delicate, exactly, but I also know they were worried about you.”

The cadet was quiet for another minute before answering. “I don’t know… I guess I was just ashamed.”

“For what?” You asked, genuinely surprised.

“I’m a clone,” The cadet replied matter of factly. “A soldier… or I will be, at least. The Kaminoans always say that troopers aren’t supposed to show weakness.”

Your blood started to boil again. “That’s because the Kaminoans are a species incapable of feeling sentient emotions,” You said firmly, barely able to keep the bite out of your tone. “They don’t understand feelings like fear or sadness, and thus view all those who display such emotions as weak.

“Soldiers or not, clones or not, you and all your brothers are still human,” You continued, running your fingers over the cadet’s sides in what you hoped was a soothing manner. “More than that, you and your batch are children. You’re allowed to be afraid, and sad, and happy! No nightmare, long neck, or war should be able to take that from you.”

The cadet’s wide eyes watered again, and you feared that your very true, yet very harsh, words had only caused another sobbing spell. But then he whispered, “Will the war ever end?”

The question surprised you, but you found yourself nodding emphatically. “Yes, of course!” You assured him, resuming your soothing strokes along his sides. “The war will end, peace will return to the galaxy, and you and your brothers will have the freedom to do whatever you put your minds to. I promise.”

Of course you promised.

Of course you believed it.

You had to, for the clones’ sake.

For if not you, then who?

Your promise seemed to placate the cadet, who once again grew quiet in your arms. He closed it eyes, to which you thought to ask, “Do you think you’re ready to go back to sleep now?”

The cadet didn’t answer for a second, which caused you to think that he had in fact fallen asleep. Then he softly admitted, “I don’t know… what if I have another nightmare?”

“Then you can confide in your squad about it,” You replied. “I’m sure many of them share the same fears as you, yet are unable to admit it for the same reasons. You may be able to help each other in that regard.”

The cadet made a small noise of confirmation, but his resting expression still seemed pinched. You were thinking of ways to help soothe the rest of his worries when a memory from long ago resurfaced. You had been raised by a single father, who was also a mercenary and had taught you every trick in the holobook. He was far from a perfect man, but he’d loved you and had tried his best as a father. Whenever you woke up from a nightmare, he had a lullaby that would soothe you right back to sleep. You wondered if it would have the same effect here.

“I could try something else, if you want,” You offered quietly.

“If it’ll help,” The cadet allowed just as softly.

You nodded definitively and adjusted your arms around him to ensure that you were cradling him more effectively. The lullaby ran through your head again and you made a few mental changes to the lyrics here and there to better fit the situation at hand. Your alterations ready, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath before starting to sing:

Now hush, little baby, don't you cry

Everything's gonna be alright

Stiffen that upper lip up, little baby, I told ya

I’m here to hold ya through the night

I know there is no peace right now and we don't know why

We fear how we feel inside

It may seem a little crazy, pretty baby

But I promise everything is alright

And if you ask me to, I’m gonna buy you a mockingbird

I'ma give you the world

I'ma buy a diamond ring for you, I'ma sing for you

I'll do anything for you to see you smile

And if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine

I'ma break that birdie's neck

I'll go back to the jeweler who sold it to ya

And make him eat every carat, don't fuck with me

Your eyes popped open as you remembered just how foul-mouthed your father had been. Your mouth opened next to apologize to the cadet, but he beat you to the punch by opening his eyes and asking, “What’s a mockingbird? And what’s a diamond?”

Secretly glad that he’d decided not to acknowledge the curse slip-up, you willingly explained, “A mockingbird is a special kind of avian species that can mimic the songs and sounds of other species. A diamond is a type of shiny stone that is very difficult to break - that’s what makes it so valuable.”

The cadet’s earlier expression of despair had been replaced with one of quiet wonder. “Have you ever seen a mockingbird? Or a diamond?”

You had to laugh at his curiosity. “I’ve seen both!” You told him. “One is very fast and feathery - the other is very sparkly and… round, I guess. Both are very beautiful.”

The cadet made a small sound of contentment as his eyes slipped closed once more. “Maybe I’ll get to see them both when I’m older,” He mused.

You didn’t want to think about what would become of him when he was “older”, but you decided to humor him. “I’m sure you will.”

“Can you sing it again?”

So you did. You sang your father’s lullaby over and over until the cadet’s breathing evened and his eyes remained closed. Once you were positive that he had fallen asleep, you stood on shaky legs and turned back to the room. Balancing the sleeping cadet precariously on your hip, you hurriedly used your code to open the door, after which you discovered that all four of the remaining cadets had quickly fallen asleep after you’d left. You took a moment to grin at sight of all four of their (admittedly adorable) sleeping faces before you crossed to the bed of the cadet in your arms and laid him down. He immediately groaned and curled onto his side, suddenly having to rely on his own body for comfort heat rather than yours.

Your fingers ghosted over the cadet’s forehead, now smooth with sleep rather than lined with worry. You stared at his calm expression for a second before your gaze went to the other cadets in the room. They were all the image of sweet dreams, though you wondered just how “sweet” those dreams actually were. How many other cadets were like the one you’d just helped, plagued by nightmares and yet too focused on the stereotype of a “perfect soldier” to confide in those around them about it? How many of them are too scared of being seen as weak to actually admit that they’re scared?

How many of them will eventually gain the courage to admit so?

How many of them will continue to keep quiet and allow the fear to eat them alive?

It was question that couldn’t be answered at Maker-damn o’clock. You sighed and moved towards the door; you still had other barracks to check before first roll call. Before you crossed the threshold, you looked back over your shoulder at the peaceful cadets.

“Sleep tight, children,” You whispered into the silence. “Dream of a life much better than this one.”

So you continued on with your night; then the next one and then the next. For months, you kept with your schedule of checking on the cadets before, during and after training, and then again after lights out.

But as the war continued on, the Kaminoans started to become more and more demanding of both the trainers and the cadets, and the exercises started to become more and more brutal. More and more cadets needed help and comfort, and you were spread thin enough as it was. Your nights became full of you running between the storage rooms and the barracks, refilling on supplies and topping off your caf container before moving onto the next batch that needed your help.

It eventually got to the point that some of the older cadets took you aside and told you, “Take it easy. You do enough for us as it is - we can take care of ourselves.”

As much as it pained you to admit it, they were right. You were of no use to anyone if you were dead on your feet. And the more useless you appeared, the more likely the Kaminoans were to terminate their contract with you and kick you off Kamino. The war with the Separatists was showing no signs of ending any time soon, though. You simply couldn’t leave the cadets by themselves now.

So you agreed to slow down, though you refused to stop. You still did your best to help the cadets during the day, though you limited your nightly exploits to two a standard week, three if you were feeling rested enough. They had slowed to the point that you wondered at times if you were making any real difference. You still continued on, regardless. You had to.

It was during one of these sparse exploits that you heard a new sound. You had been walking near the tween barracks when you picked up a faint disturbance in the usual drone of Tipoca City after hours. Curious, you listened closer.

It sounded like… a melody.

Moreover, a melody you knew.

Even more curious, you moved further into the barracks to hear more. The melody turned into syllables and the syllables turned into lyrics that made your heart skip a beat: “I’m gonna buy you a mockingbird, I'ma give you the world…”

It was undoubtedly your father’s lullaby, your lullaby. And it was being sung in the tween barracks, in the trademark deep baritone of the older cadets. You hadn’t sung it to any other cadets since that night.

Did that mean…?

With a small smile, you turned on your heel and left the tween barracks, feeling more energized than you had in weeks.

Because for the first time since you first came to Kamino…

You felt like you’d actually made a difference.

—————

Later on, the cadet would become a fearsome fighter known as Lullaby. The other troopers think it’s because one punch from him means lights-out for his opponent. It’s actually an homage to a person who helped him in the past❤️.

I’d like to think that not all of the trainers were horrible to the clones.

If you’re curious, the song is “Mockingbird” by Eminem. I adjusted the lyrics to keep the fic as gender neutral as possible so that anyone can self insert themselves into the story.

[leafiu]

Slitting my throat sounds more appealing to me than being a part of the TikTok art community.

[idontshitpostbuttheolympicpark]

[harbingerscry]

This is my submission for the 50-Word Fic Challenge hosted by @deadbranch . This is a dark piece that can be triggering so please do not read it you are bothered by bodily harm or suic!de.

Passion turned obsession 

made nails turn to daggers with punishing force

If only you weren’t wishing for your demise

“Come on luv, just a little bit more.”

Once pure sheets stained in blood drawn under heavy hand

'Please forgive me for my transgressions'

“Just a bit more until you’re forgiven.”

-

Aka: Yandere captor (any Cod man but I wrote it with Gaz in mind) punishes you for your failed suicide attempt.

[cumintrout]

Harding bounced on Varric’s dick crazy style, just the craziest style. So crazy, in fact, that after one enthusiastic bounce, as she threw her fat ass high in the air, Varric’s stout dwarven dick slipped out and Harding, her ample ass returning with great force, crushed the penis right there.

“Aaagh!” cried Varric, reeling in pain.

“Oh no!” Harding quickly dismounted and assessed the damage. “It’s not pretty,” she said.

Varric’s penis had snapped in two.

“It’s a good thing dwarves are known for their healing magic,” Harding said sardonically, making arcane gestures with her hands.

Suddenly, pink and blue lights appeared around Varric’s mangled member. The lights disappeared and his cock was back to new.

Varric gave a playful grin, “Um, I don’t think that’s what they mean when they say ‘bouncing on it’”

[hauntsect]

⚔️ 👻 🖤 heh.

❥ ❝ why remember the moth? ❞

⚔️ CROSSED SWORDS — do you have any skills that you are absolutely grateful you have and that mean a lot to you? how do you usually use these skills? would they come in handy if someone you cared about was in trouble?

"Indeed! Being able to conduct surgery, mostly being able to efficiently use a scalpel. It's one of the earlier things I got to learn, I've been using it for a while now, too. I use it a lot in my laboratory... So many of my projects require some kind of exposure, extirpation, the works. ...If someone I cared for were to be in danger and I had a scalpel in hand, per usual, yes... it would definitely come in handy. I wouldn't let anyone touch them, but I cannot guarantee that their components will not touch my loved ones accidentally... Ah, maybe I need a more practical approach."

👻 GHOST — is there someone or something that you feel is missing from your life? do you know if there's any way to find it/them?

"Yes, there is... So many things feel missing. Pieces of the puzzle I cannot truly see. I feel complete, I think of myself as complete and yet... There is a longing, my... being feels empty. A significant other, a soulmate, any other synonym they have for it... I've come to the conclusion that there is none for me, but I still look for it. I've been called stupid before, I believe it whenever I throw myself back into the thought of affection. I'm missing someone else, someone who understands me and I cannot find it, because it does not exist. There is no way to find it. On a lighter note, I am unsure if I am missing a protein, a part of my brain, something that could help me express emotion like my fellow companions and coworkers do. I was told children mimic what their surrounding humans do, I've done the same, but... it does not work for me. Something must be wrong, whether it is execution or a component inside me. Maybe, I should conduct a surgery on myself to find out!"

🖤 BLACK HEART — what would you say is the darkest thought you've ever experienced? what do you think caused you to have that thought? have you ever planned on or fantasized about acting on it?

"Darkest thought? Oh, do not be silly! I am not the type to have dark thoughts at all! Instead, I have gentle desires. You know the ones... Like when you look at a stranger you really like and you wonder: Wouldn't it be lovely to consume them – or a loved one – down to every minute detail? Rip off the ribcage hiding their heart from you just to watch it race as you take over them. Maybe with beastly thrusts against their holes, bites ripping off organs and skin, words of affirmation... To watch it react as you lay down the union of love... to be able to touch it right there, soothe it, alter it... Witness it. It's alive right there, it's all yours. If they asked you to eat them raw, would you be able to do it? Hyles, would you be able to please your loved one, bathing in their blood and drinking it? Basking on the taste of their body, bile and mucus. Would you savor it... or would you run away? Of course I fantasize about it... I fantasize about it so much, every single day, at every hour, every minute, with every twinkle of the dead stars above and the ones to come later. After all, it's love... All I think about is love."

[r4t-g0d]

Me making a spidersona: yeah make it tear off its own limbs

Also me making a spidersona: yeah yh what it's canon event was Brexit

[paim0ntheclown]

No clown update today! Did do some sad clown doodles tho

Been experimenting with cheap oil pastels not sure how I feel about them

Tw! (Minor ?) blood /bodily harm

[justyourtypicalwriter]

Okay, okay, okay SO: Kyle in the sled dog au gets harassed. Like BIG TIME.

I’d like to think of it as people found out he was a were-dog (is it were-dog if the shifts are controlled?) during his senior year. He found this little stream in the woods and likes to shift into his dog form play around it. He found it with Stan and it makes him really happy. Then shit hits the fan in September a few days before the first day of senior year and some kids in his grade see him shifting. At this point were-dogs are certainly NOT openly accepted.

So school starts up and so does the harassment. At first it’s just stupid teen drama stuff like graffitied locker or posters hung around school, which Kyle could care less about. It turns to verbal threats of harm around late November/early December and the most it does is Piss Kyle off. He’s just kind of sick of it at this point and doesn’t see what the big deal is. Around mid to late January it switches to physical attacks, probably one to two people at a time just picking fights with (or jumping?) him. Kyle chooses not to say anything about it as he fairs pretty well in these scuffles.

HOWEVER, you know I gotta fuck our boy up a bit more. At the end of April all these little pairs of people gang up together to attack him after school. Forcing him down and taking turns beating him or burning him with cigarettes. And just a reminder this is all for being a were-dog which wasn’t his decision. They also thought it was a funny little idea to slice and carve words into his skin with pocket knives with the main things being written along the lines of mutt as well as other crude things.

To say it spooks Kyle is a drastic understatement. The poor thing just sits there behind the school frozen in shock for hours until Kenny and Tolkien (they’re also were-dogs) find him and take him to Stan’s as they know his parents aren’t home. Kenny helps patch Kyle up (he’s fucking SKILLED at medical shit. But there’s a darker reason for it, I’ll make another post about that) before him and Tolkien leave. Kyle is absolutely silent throughout this whole thing which is a big marker that he’s really upset.

The whole situation is really taking a toll on him and as much as I love Sheila, she’s not much help. I typically don’t write things where Sheila is purposely harmful to her children, this is purely just her being so overbearing she’s doing a lot psychologically to Kyle who already isn’t doing the best mentally. It’s the typical overbearing parent stuff: “how could you be stupid enough to let this happen”, “I thought you were smarter then that”, “hiding that this was happening? It’s like I don’t even know you”. Just lots and lots of berating as well as yelling and Kyle just can’t cope.

His grades drop, he shuts down in large crowds, he’s just detached from reality. And he ends up dropping out. Kyle doesn’t graduate in this au. I honestly think this is the final straw for Stan and he makes the decision to follow through on the dog sledding stuff and he tells Kyle who’s just eager to get out of South Park and this is the perfect opportunity to.

[grumpyxmvtt]

Jabber Jaw

[yungbowtie]

A fun thing about my university is that the floor of all the outdoor areas is made up of big stone slabs that are deceptively uneven. Add to this the fact that I am a reckless driver who loves runnin' around at the speed of sound on my wheelchair and you end up in all sorts of awkward situations.

Sometimes I'd drop all of my things by braking too hard and have to pick them back up myself because movies lied to me about love. Other times, I would be rolling by myself and fall in a quiet part of campus, which would spare me the shame of being perceived by other people. I would jumpscare my friends constantly by moving beside them one moment and falling to the floor in a cartoonishly loud fashion.

I'd trip up while going at a reasonable speed (for once), which thankfully wouldn't be enough to send me flying off. But what this means is that often some unsuspecting fellow student walking to class would lock eyes with me as I desperately tried to rebalance myself like a tightrope walker on a ten story building in an amazingly tense wordless exchange that would alter the course of both of our lives forever, before I "regained my footing" so to speak and continued on as if nothing happened.

Having learned how to "fall with style" by diligently stacking it multiple times a week over the course of my life, the best (and worst) is when I would be going full speed amidst a crowd of people and have my wheelchair stop dead in it's tracks because it got caught in a crooked bit of floor. The sheer momentum would carry me several feet through the air. And somewhere in the middle, I'd know. People would turn to me in shock and horror and I would look at them for a split second with an expression on my face that said " * record scratch * Yep. That's me. I bet you're wondering how I got in this situation" while I was in midair. Then I would expertly land like a stunt double, only lightly scraping my knee, bending my elbow and banging my head on the stone floor