#until hes powerful enough

[luxaofhesperides]

Soulmark AU + Sleeping Beauty ; requested by @candeartist422!

For the last few years, Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die.

It sounds cruel to say it that way. But the waiting is more painful, he thinks, than just mourning a lost love. It’s not like most people ever meet their soulmates anyways; his parents weren’t meant to be, but they still loved each other and had a life together. He wishes he could turn his focus away from his soulmate, but Duke is a romantic at heart and has always wanted to find the other half of his soul.

But since he was fourteen, his soulmark has dulled, fading in and out of color. What was once a vibrant blue crystal star, with eight points and a swirl of watercolor hues around it, dimmed more and more until Duke was sure he was watching his soulmate die slowly. 

His soulmate didn’t die then. Whoever they are got better, his soulmark gaining color, but it never went back to the way it was. For years after, Duke would check at the beginning and end of each day, keeping track of when it faded and when it regained its color. 

He thought his soulmate was sick. In and out of hospitals, fighting to stay alive.

And then it went nearly colorless. 

Duke doesn’t remember much about that day. He knows he woke up, brushed his teeth, the lifted up his shirt to check his soulmark in the mirror. The blue was almost completely gone, the star on his left hipbone nearly gray with how colorless it was. He started at it for a moment, shocked, and reality slid away from him as he retreated into the safety of his mind, fully dissociating. 

Bruce had found him when Duke didn’t show up for breakfast. He held him and offered quiet words of comfort that Duke couldn’t understand, but just having someone with him lessened the hurt of losing his soulmate. 

Seeing the color come back the next day, faint as it was, hurt even more.

A year later, Duke still can’t break the habit of checking his soulmark twice a day. It hasn’t changed at all, still faint and dim, but carrying just enough color to show that his soulmate was still alive. At the very least, they were still breathing, but his chance of ever meeting them is basically zero. Still, he can’t help but hope, wishing that he could meet them even once before they die and leave him forever. 

“Same as ever,” he murmurs to himself as he brushes his thumb against his soulmark. He’s terrified that he’s forgotten how beautiful the blue of it was when his soulmate was healthy. 

Duke doesn’t let himself think on it too much anymore. Though his thoughts often turn to his soulmate during quiet moments like these, the busy nature of Gotham is usually more than enough to pull his attention back to the here and now. There’s no use in obsessing over his soulmate anyways; they’re just going to die, sooner or later, and Duke knows he’ll never get to meet them. They’ll just be another empty space in his life, right next to his parents. 

“Come on, Thomas, focus,” he tells himself firmly, then gets dressed and heads down to the kitchen for breakfast.

The manor is quiet. It usually is in the mornings, with everyone from the night shift dead asleep and trying to get as much rest as they can before they have to start their day. Not that many of them stay in the manor these days; Duke and Damian are the only permanent residents at the moment, but Steph usually stays half with her mom and half in the manor during the summers when she’s home from college, and the others drop in whenever they feel like it. 

Bruce lives more in the Batcave than the manor, so he doesn’t really count. It’s also why Duke is surprised to see Bruce awake and dressed like a normal person, drinking coffee in the kitchen as if this is a normal occurrence. 

“Morning,” Duke offers.

“Good morning, Duke,” Bruce replies. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Alfred out or something?”

“He may have kicked me out of the Batcave to clean it up a bit,” Bruce answers tiredly. “Want me to make breakfast?”

Duke has heard the horror stories of Bruce’s attempts to make edible food in a kitchen. In the interest of not dealing with food poisoning, Duke shakes his head quickly and says, “Nah, it’s fine. I was kinda wanting to eat out for breakfast. Get out there as me, and not a mask, you know?”

“Mind if I join you? Alfred may forgive me for not sleeping if I willingly go outside.”

Duke laughs. “Sure man, as long as you pay.”

“I’ll drive, too.”

“What, don’t trust me behind a wheel?”

Bruce gives him a tired look, eyes dead and dull. “I have taught all my children how to drive. The day I willingly let them take the wheel when I am not actively dying is the day I’ve been replaced by a robot clone of myself who doesn’t know better yet.”

“That is… very specific. Is that a thing you usually worry about?”

“I’m Batman. I have to worry about everything.”

Yeah, that tracks. Duke wouldn’t be surprised if he has at least five contingency plans for that scenario, should it ever happen. “Well,” he says, “Right now, all you need to worry about is having your wallet and driving us down to The Foodie Nook. I’ve been craving their breakfast plates for ages.”

Bruce doesn’t object to his choice of restaurant and follows Duke down to the garage, grabbing a random set of keys and pointing it out to the many cars he owns. One near the front blinks its lights as it unlocks and Duke cheerfully tosses himself into the passenger seat as Bruce opens the garage door. 

The drive into Gotham is smooth. They don’t hit traffic until they reach the bridge that leads into the city proper, taking them away from the quiet of Bristol. The morning is busy, but not enough that Duke worries about being out as the Signal to help keep the peace. It’s a normal type of busy, one borne from people going about their lives, feeling safe enough to go out. 

The Foodie Nook is entirely local and very popular, so the parking lot is nearly full. But they expanded their space last year, which means he and Bruce don’t have to sit outside while they wait to grab a table. Bruce keeps conversation light and casual, well aware of the many listening ears around them, and it’s nice, feeling normal for once. 

Well, as normal as life can be with Bruce Wayne™. The server who comes to lead them to a table realizes who she’s talking to after she gets a proper look at them while holding open the door and promptly stutters over her words. 

“No need for any special treatment,” Bruce laughs lightly, “We’re just here for breakfast. Nothing special.”

“Of course,” she replies, cheeks red. “Um, right this way! We’ve got a table by the windows for you. Just two, yeah?”

“Yup! Just two. Thought this was a good day to spend some time with Duke. He’s a great kid, you know, I’m glad I was given the opportunity to foster him.”

The sunny, cheerful Bruce Wayne persona is so different from the usual Bruce he works with that it feels like he’s standing next to a stranger. But his words are sincere and warm his heart, filling up the gaps that his soulmate has left. 

“Here you are!” their server announces, showing them to their table. “I’ll be right back with some menus.” She’s gone in a rush, and other customers glance over before quickly averting their gaze. 

It’s one of the unspoken rules of Gotham: give the Waynes their privacy while they’re out in public. Questions and conversation are for public events only, but if they see a Wayne out and about during a normal day, everyone leaves them be unless spoken to first. Duke used to follow those rules as well when he was just another Gothamite. It’s strange being on the other side of that now that he’s in with the Waynes.

Duke barely has to look through the menu when it’s handed to him. The breakfast plates are his favorites and he gets one every single time he comes to The Foodie Nook; stacked full with breakfast foods from around the world. As a kid, he loved the Mexico Plate, but these days he’s craving either the Brazilian Plate or the Vietnamese Plate.  

He can’t decide on which one and thinks about tossing a coin to decide, but seeing how that’s Two Face’s whole thing, he decides to hold off and settle the matter with eenie-meenie-minnie-mo. 

He gets the Vietnamese Plate.

Bruce, on the other hand, reads through the entire menu like it’s a novel, then leans over and says rather loudly, “Duke, what’s a tort-illa.” 

The pain he feels hearing that is only worsened by the amusement in Bruce’s eyes. He’s doing it on purpose, playing up the Brucie act for the public so he can psychologically torment Duke. A few nearby customers choke back laughter, turning away to hide their smiles. 

Duke shakes his head and says, “Don’t worry about it. It’s just food. Don’t ask any more questions, I just want a peaceful breakfast.”

“Well then,” Bruce replies, “I suppose I know what to order now.”

As if she was summoned, their server reappears before them, cheeks still looking a little flushed. “Hi! Ready to order?”

She writes down their orders quickly, valiantly keeping a straight face at Bruce’s mispronunciation of tortilla, then heads off to deliver their orders to the kitchen. 

Rather than draw out a conversation with Brucie Wayne, Duke settles for playing a few idle games on his phone; his current favorite is one quiet cat cafe game where he directs cats into fulfilling cafe orders. 

Bruce, despite being out in his civilian identity, is working. He’s on his Batman phone, which looks the same as his other cell phones except this one has a bat symbol sticker just barely hiding a Superman sticker on the phone case. His brow is slightly furrowed as he reads whatever file he’s accessing from the Batcomputer. It’s a little worrying but it could be anything. Bruce makes the same expression when he reads one of Tim’s snarky comments getting quoted in the news.

But that’s not Duke’s problem! He’s here to enjoy his breakfast and it will take the end of the world itself to remove him from his seat before he’s done eating.

The game takes most of his attention until their food comes out, and by then Bruce has tucked away the smallest of his Batman mannerisms. They enjoy a normal, peaceful breakfast. Bruce ends it by asking their server if she has any debt that’s weighing her down, then giving her a tip that’s at least five thousand dollars above that. 

She does cry and Bruce hugs her. It’s very sweet. 

As soon as they get back into the car, his easy going smile drops and Duke knows some superhero nonsense is about to take over his day. 

“Duke,” Bruce starts, seriously, “I received a message from Zatanna.”

“Don’t drag this out,” Duke says, “Just give it to me straight. What terrible thing is about to happen to us?”

“It’s nothing too big. They just recently defeated a magical being who had been tearing apart secret government facilities in Illinois. He had both magic and a high tech weapon, which they confiscated and are delivering to me. The government agency he was fighting was suspiciously interested in the weapon, and based on their behaviors and newly revealed work, Zatanna made the decision to turn the weapon over to us so it doesn’t fall into the wrong hands.”

Bruce smoothly merges into traffic as he speaks, getting them onto the road back to the manor. There’s a look in his eyes that means he’s keeping a lot unsaid, and Duke knows without a doubt that whatever this government agency was doing is bad if Zatanna needs Batman to act as extra security. 

He’s not sure about her decision to trust the weapon to be safe in Gotham, either. Sure, Batman will keep it as safe as he can, but with their luck, it’ll end up in the hands of a Rogue and lead to a lot of death and destruction. 

As soon as they cross the bridge and return to Bristol, Bruce steps on the gas and the car tears down the road. Without any other cars to worry about (or traffic laws), it takes barely two minutes to reach the manor, when the gates open for them and let them into the garage. 

Alfred waits for them by the door, looking them over with a critical eye. “I see you have managed to go outside, Master Bruce. What’s the special occasion?”

“Just breakfast,” Bruce answers. “I’m heading back down to the Batcave. Zatanna will be here soon to deliver a weapon.” He’s gone before Alfred can say anything more, hurrying down the hall and turning the corner, disappearing from sight as he heads towards his office. 

“I see we have yet to break that bad habit of his. Did you enjoy your morning out, Master Duke?”

“Sure did, Alfred. I’m, uh, also going down to the Batcave. He’s definitely not telling me a lot about what’s going on, so I’m just going to read about it over his shoulder. I’ll be back up for lunch, though!”

“And perhaps you’ll be able to drag Master Bruce away from that cave of his,” Alfred comments wryly as he walks with Duke towards the office. He gives Duke a nod, then splits away from him, returning to the kitchen where Duke can hear Damian speaking to someone, probably Tim by the annoyed tone of his voice, and mentally wishes Alfred luck in handling them.

Duke sets the correct time on the clock in Bruce’s office and heads down to the Batcave, taking the steps two at a time. 

Bruce is already at the Batcomputer, shoulders tensed, when he arrives. 

“More bad news?” he asks as he makes his way over.

Bruce doesn’t bother looking away from the screen as he says, “More details about the fight. It seems the magical being called himself a ghost and was going on a rampage due to a betrayal. He says they nearly killed his son.”

“Oh, yikes.”

“And two of the scientists working with the government agency said that he stole their son and is keeping them from saving him.”

“Yikes,” Duke says with more feeling.

He doesn’t get to hear anymore details about JLD’s fight with this ghost when he catches a flicker in the corner of his eye. Duke turns and stares at the empty space in the Batcave near the medbay and watches as colorful magic gathers and swirls in dizzing circles. The portal opens a moment later and Zatanna steps out, looking exhausted and lightly singed. 

“Batman,” she greets, holding a white gun that looks like it belongs in an early sci-fi movie from the 60s. “The GIW is trying to arrest us. Constantine keeps burning their badges and documents so it shouldn’t be a problem, but they are determined to get this back. I wouldn’t be surprised if they came after you next. They’ve got some way of tracking things, but I didn’t have time to get any details before I had to leave.”

Bruce takes the gun from her hands carefully, looking it over with a sharp gaze. “Why would a ghost want to use a gun?”

“I don’t know. He had a variety of powers, too.”

“What does this do?”

“Shoots ice. He never let it go and nearly burned me alive for taking it before we subdued him.”

“We’ll keep it locked up,” Bruce promises. 

Zatanna sighs. It looks as though a physical weight fell off her shoulders. “Thanks. I’m going to head back to stop Constantine from getting into a fistfight with the GIW agents.”

She opens another portal with a waved hand and a muttered spell. Bruce is already walking away to set the gun down on a work station, so Duke is the one to wave Zatanna goodbye. 

By the time he reaches Bruce’s side, the gun is already dismantled, all pieces neatly set aside. Sticky notes denote which pieces go together and in what order. It looks the same as most guns, save for the aesthetic, but the heart of it is a glowing blue orb, large enough to cover the entirety of Bruce’s palm, and it brings a chill to the air.

Duke stares at it and feels his soulmark burn ice cold.

“Duke?”

It’s in his hands. He doesn’t remember reaching out to take it, but it’s in his hands. He can’t take his eyes off of it, cradling it gently and bringing it closer to his chest. 

It’s the same blue his soulmark once was. Before his soulmate began to fade, before every day became a waiting game to see how long his soulmate will last before they die. 

This has something to do with his soulmate. He’s sure of it. 

He won’t let anyone take it from him. 

“Duke. Give that to me.”

He doesn’t feel like he’s in his body. He’s detached, floating somewhere outside his body, puppeteering his limbs, making them move without feeling the motion. Shadows condense around his feet and Bruce takes a step back, wary. 

“Duke,” he says again, but Duke can’t find any words, can’t draw on his voice, can’t even look away from the bright, bright blue of the orb. It pulses lightly in his hand like a heartbeat. 

Bruce reaches a hand out. 

He’s pulled back by shadows before he can get close, and Duke holds the orb against his chest, right against his heart, and feels the cold seep into him. 

“Duke. I need you to look at me.” This time, Bruce’s voice has Batman’s growl in it, a heavy command that he can’t help but instinctively follow. He looks up and meets Bruce’s eyes, but he can’t focus. All his awareness is in his hands and the heartbeat of the glowing orb.

“I have to protect this,” Duke manages to whisper. “I… I think it’s alive.”

“Okay. Let’s get you to the medbay so you can sit down. We’ll figure this out, Duke.”

Bruce slowly, carefully, sets his hand on Duke’s shoulder. He keeps his attention away from the orb, so Duke allows it and lets Bruce guide him to the medbay and onto one of the medical cots. Bruce leaves him after a minute of quiet fussing, muttering about calling Zatanna.

Whatever. None of that matters when the heartbeat of the orb grows stronger, steadier, and Duke feels it match the beat of his own heart.

Time slips away from him. Distantly, he hears people move around the cave, speaking in low tones. A hand presses against his shoulder, warm, then moves away. 

The orb in his hand moves. 

Duke blinks slowly, then claws his way back to awareness, pushing past the haze that’s fallen over his mind. The orb turns over in his hand, then cracks right down the middle. The glow grows stronger, washing the medbay in blue light and a symbol appears on the orb.

It’s his soulmark. 

Later, he won’t be able to say why he did it. There were no thoughts, no reasonings, no explanations. Duke simply moved on instinct and lifted the orb up to his face and pressed a soft kiss against it. 

One moment, the orb was still.

The next, it had burst in a flash of light that blinded everyone in the Batcave, and then a thin, injured teenager had fallen into Duke’s lap. 

Hands immediately grab him, pulling him away from Duke. The teenager puts up no fight, eyes barely open, but he reaches for Duke weakly. On his wrist is the bright blue snowflake, the color strong and vivid. 

“That’s me soulmate,” Duke whispers as he watches Bruce and Tim set the boy down on another medical cot. 

“What?” Tim says, turning to face Duke, concern clear on his face. 

“That’s my soulmate,” he repeats, louder. Then, panicked, he pulls up his shirt enough to see his own soulmark; the color is still dull, weak, barely there, but it’s more blue that it has been in a while. He doesn’t need to say anything. Tim sees the dullness of his soulmark, looks at the boy, and puts the pieces together on his own.

“I’ll call Doc Thompkins,” he says, already moving to fix everything. Bruce remains where he is, making sure the boy is tucked in and breathing steadily before he returns to Duke. 

“Are you alright?”

Duke swallows roughly, unable to tear his eyes away from the boy. He’s pale and thin, as if he’d been starved, and there’s frost beginning to spread on the bedsheet from his fingers. “He’s my soulmate,” Duke manages to say. “He’s been dying for two years.”

Bruce’s eyes a hard, a determined light in them. “We’ll save him,” he promises. 

If anyone can, it’s Batman. 

If anyone can, it’s them, Batman and the Signal, and their entire network of family and friends. 

Duke’s been waiting for his soulmate to die all this time. Now, he’s going to save him.

[incessantlark]

krakoa charles...

[lucksea]

havent decided how i want the introduction to go yet but i imagine it would roughly be one of these two

[fusionsprunt]

me when my meteor-powered robot gf attempts to murder me 😳😳

[turtleblogatlast]

I am once again reiterating that Leo could and should be a figure skater because what are ice skates if not twin blades? What is dual blade swordsmanship if not a dance-like performance? Using the skates as blades themselves could let Leo make portals be his ice rink no? I rest my case. ⛸️

[veinsfullofstars]

💥 Of mice and mischief! 💥

(ID: More Kirby series fanart of Shadow Kirby interacting with Squeakers, with a guest cameo by Dark Meta Knight. Top left - SK clad in the Bomb hat and his Kirby Fighters black-and-purple coloration, dashing by alongside a green Squeaker, both of them carrying lit bombs and laughing with eager mischief. Top right - SK being hurriedly carried off by a group of excited Squeakers, his eyes wide in surprise and little arms thrown back from the speed. Bottom - DMK standing stiffly as a gaggle of curious Squeakers huddles around and even climbs onto him, his fists clenched and his wings slightly curled, his mask tilted down and and hiding his eyes in the shadow of the visor, red lines of irritation zigzagging off of him. To our left, a word bubble sporting Daroach’s top hat reads, “Aww, they like ya! Ain’t that precious? Quick, Spinni, get the camera!” END ID.)

Part 1 | Part 2 (you’re here!) | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Compilation

Sketch started btw 12/23 - 05/24, render started 05/21/24, finished 05/23/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24.

[kacievvbbbb]

Honestly Ozai’s treatment of zuko and Azula was probably less about who they were and more about him projecting what he wishes his father would have done for him with Iroh.

He is after all a second born child himself and he’s always just wanted his father to see that he was the better child.

Azula was never a person to Ozai not really she was just his self insert in the fanfiction he was writing himself. It’s why she stops mattering the moment he finds something bigger than being fire lord.

[gai-sucks-titties-in-my-basement]

Gai saw a man burn alive and longed to be engulfed in the same flames. His idea of heroism was tainted from the start, a sacrifice of self to power, so much power you die. Anything less is not good enough. He has never valued his life as anything other than his status and name. He wanted nothing more than to burn after he released the 8th gate. He was kept alive as punishment for his ego, Maito Gai needed to learn how to live life as a human being.

[toobusybeingdelulu]

This was El’s face after watching Billy die for her btw.

[dykesynthezoid]

I think the funniest thing about scogan to me is that if you try to imagine it in practice it actually ends up much more compellingly fulfilling some of the tropes that the comics have seemingly always been trying to push with Jean/Logan. Which is just. Hilarious. Like the supposed (very old, tired, romance novel ass) dynamic they’ve often tried to push w Jean/Logan (esp in the new xmen era) is that of Logan representing some sort of… wildness or freedom to Jean’s restraint. That her “giving in” (yuck) to him is also her embracing… idk? Some sort of more natural, unrestrained version of herself and her power.

But it falls really flat with Jean not just bc of the misogyny inherent in the trope but also bc. She’s literally already done that. Like several times in fact. It’s sort of her whole thing. She doesn’t need to fuck Logan to step into her unrestrained power. She already, as a character, is supposed to be a vibrant, impossible, wild manifestation of pure creative/destructive will. (And really it’s kind of everyone else— and the writers’ latent misogyny— that keep fucking that up for her).

Scott on the other hand. Well. He kind of is the high powered female romantic lead obsessed with her job who gets sent on a work trip to a rural town where she’s forced to loosen up a little. Like for better or worse that’s kind of exactly him. He would fit alarmingly well in that sort of push and pull storyline. Which is so… good to me. That Scott, of all people, makes more sense on the cover of a Johanna Lindsey novel than Jean does. That him having that kind of dynamic with Logan actually feels way more interesting bc Scott is restrained to a fault, he is an insufferable, neurotic little headcase who would rather die than tell a waiter they got his order wrong. And yet he’s also the guy who’s admitted to actively enjoying riling Logan up bc part of him just wants to see what will happen. Which I’m pretty sure is called chemistry

[fatedroses]

Many things were used to describe the mad hermit of Amaurot: a drunkard, degenerate, cynical, and even monstrous by those who stirred trouble for the newly appointed Azem. But nothing could prepare Emet-Selch for what he would see for himself, when offered a chance to meet the Sun's Shadow.

[ancha-aus]

Ghosts & Medium AU Drabble - Moon Ritual

Not the drabble idea i mentioned before but one I wanted to write quickly :3

I am sure you can guess who this one is about :3 It is time for the gang to summon and meet Nightmare.

*----------------------------*

Dust checks the circle he had been drawing before leaning back. Still not quite right. Damnit. This is a hard design to get right. He rubs some of the chalk away and starts with making the design again.

Cross, or well Killer in Cross's body, leans over his shoulder "Dusty!! I am bored! are we done here yet?" and he leans against Dust's back.

Dust freezes and notices that Killer is letting a hand wander. Dust hits backwards and hits the other in his face. Killer backs up wiht a groan and dsut glares over his shoulder "Stop trying to molest me every five minutes." and he turns back to his circle.

He fucking hopes this works. Otherwise Dust is not sure how to get Killer to unsync from Cross's body.

Cross floats near him. still hiding his face "I am so sorry." Dust just shrugs as he keeps working on the circle.

Ash glares at where Killer lays holding his skull groaning "You are a disappointment and a waste of life force and soul energy." Ash nods and floats towards Dust's side.

Dust tries to focus on the circle but hears Horror gently tell Killer to not bother Dust when he is working. That distracting Dust could end up getting him hurt.

Dust checks his notes again before looking back at the circle. It seems right...

Cross looks over his shoulder and tilts his skull "It is unlike any demon summoning circle i have ever seen before..."

Dust hums "It shouldn't." It wasn't a demon summoning circle at all after all. All the symbols and texts he had found decribed this being as a Fallen. Which can be read in different ways.

But Dust reasoned a demon wouldn't be called a Fallen. especially not a powerful demon. So he skipped the whole standard set up and worked from scratch.

Whichc is why it took him a while to get this one ready but it should work!

Of course Dust hasn't been able to test the ritual he made just yet and it isn't like you can really practise rituals safely. The whole summoning a being makes that a bit complicated.

Dust sighs as he steps back from the circle and nods. That is the best he can make it with his limited supplies.

Dust walks to the side and starts making a larger containment and shelter circle around the ritual circle. Best to make sure that whoever he summons is protected. It would be useless to summon someone only for them to die or get destroyed by say the very air.

Ash frowns as he checks the circle himself "You didn't specify which type of being you are summoning."

Dust shrugs "I don't know for sure what it is." He has ideas but if he puts in the wrong species he may just make the circle blow up on him. He can know, it happened before.

Ash frowns at it before floating to his side again "Make sure to add a desummon symbol just in case you can't make a deal and need to get rit of it."

Dust nods "Will do." He makes sure to put the desummon sigil between the containment circle and the shelter circle. Making sure the shelter one is the most outwards one and the being can't reach through the containment one to mess with the desummon sigil.

Once finished he checks all the marks and sigils before nodding as he walks back to the spot he had been preparing for himself. He checks his own protection circle and makes sure to prepare an antimagic shield as well. Ready to be activated when he wants it to.

Well. That is all the preparations he can do for this.

Well...almost. he turns towards the ghosts and actual person following him around "I am going to do the ritual. I need everyone, ghosts included, to stay within this circle." It will be a bit snug but he didn't feel like it was a good idea to experiment with hsi protection circle right before summoning an unknown being.

Horror frowns at him "Will you be okay? Takes a lot of magic."

Dust nods "I am fine."

Horror still looks deeply unhappy "But you skipped breakfast and lunch for this... shouldn't you eat before doing this?"

Dust shrugs as he walks towards the safe spot "I will be fine." and it isn't like he got the fonds to buy something at the moment. He needs to make the little he have last longer for as long as he can.

He just does not want to try to do another job and have Killer invite another ghost along. Nothing against Horror, he is very nice and behaves while being helpful, but he does not want another ghost anchored to his soul. There are already three now and Dust does not want to figure out what happens to a soul if too many beings use it as anchor.

He enters the circle and a moment later Killer is hugging him from behind. Dust glares "Killer!" fuck Cross's body is very warm and solid. That guy may be a priest but you would think he is a soldier or fighter or something with how strong he is.

Killer just hums as he tugs his skull and face right by Dust's neck and shoulder "What is wrong my bunny? I am in the circle aren't I?" Dsut can hear the grin in his voice. Then Killer hums happily "mmmh.... so warm and you smell so nice."

Dust glares and wiggles a bit but he is very stuck "You are fucking weird. Let go now. I need my arms for this."

Killer moves his arms around and he is now hugging Dust's lower middle and has his hands on his hips.

Dust uses his newly freed arm to hit Killer in the middle wiht his elbow. Fucking hell what the fuck does Cross EAT?! That guy's body is fucking all muscle and that is fucking impressive for an actual skeleton. How much trianing does it take for a skeleton's passive magic to be that strong and trained?!

Killer groans but finally lets go.

Dust glares at him "Back of the circle or so help me I am kicking you out and let whatever i summon do whatever with you."

Cross yelps and flaots closer "wait! Dust! Please don't! That isn't Killer's body remember!" he looks begging at him.

Dust sighs and nods. He knows. Which is why he hasn't done much more damage to the stupid flirt.

Talking and thinking about that stupid flirt. Killer lays on the ground by his legs and winks "I don't mind you on top of me Dusty. Just had to ask and I am happy to provide~"and he winks again!

Dust swears he sometimes wonders if there is just something in Killer's sockets which makes him wink this much!

Dust sighs and checks if all the ghosts are near as well. Everyone seems fine so he holds up his hands and concentrates. He knows that the blue in his eye light lights up. colouring all the circles first blue.

Dust lets his magic explore the circles and what to do where. Once he has a good feeling for it he concentrates and any blue turns a violet colour.

Dust mutters some old spells from long ago. They don't do anything but they help him concentrate his magic. Ways to make it easier to use the magic.

The summon circle lights up purple and Dust waits. He knows Ash is holding his breath.

Then it turns bright cyan and flames seem to rise form the circle. Dust pulls his own magic back as the summoning circle has been activated.

Ash shudders as he glides close to Dust's shoulder "that.... is very powerful... what exactly are you summmoning again?"

Dust feels his soul fill with anxiety. Maybe this was a bad idea... He glances around and sees that everyone seems troubled. Killer is shaking and has taken to holding Dust close against his front. Arms locking him in place but this time Killer doesn't even seem to be trying to sneak a feel. Just holding him close. Dust can feel Killer's soul shivering and shuddering agianst his own back.

Horror seems close to hyperventilating as he seems to hold his own middle. Staring in front of him and his other hand seems to be worrying his headwound.

Cross is straight up shaking and muttering things to himself. looking close to a panic attack.

Then Dust remembers it, something specific in the notes he took. he grabs his notebook and starts searching for the right pages.

A being that brings negativity. It finds your weakness and exploids it for its own amusement.

Is this being causing this?

"Dust?"

It has to be right?

"Dust!"

But then it would be strong enough to already affect people without really having to be present!

"Dust!!"

Dust glares at Ash "What I am thinking." Obviously!

Ash points and Dust turns only to freeze.

There is a being made of someking of black goo. It is dripping in the circle and staring right at them with one shining glowing cyan eye.

Staring.

Waiting.

Dust quickly checks his notes. It isn't a fae so the fact the others said his name shouldn't matter. It is a being which thrieves on emotions and-

oh.

Dust closes his sockets and takes afew deep breaths. Mind over matter.

He is fine.

He prepared for this.

This thing can't hurt him.

He is okay.

His soul calms downa dn with it so do his emotions.

He looks at the others "Calm down. They won't be able to get to us." his feet is right by the activation symbol for the magical shield. HE doesn't think this is magic and so won't waste it right now. "It gets its powers from negative emotions. probably is causing them too. chill."

Ash looks at him and nods. He concentrates and obviously calms down. Dust knows his brother well and his brother knows him. Ash knows Dust wouldn't say that unless he is very sure.

Cross looks unsure but floats closer to Dust before calming a bit. seemingly trusting Dust to know what he is saying.

Hah. Dust hopes so.

Killer frowns at him and just pulls him closer. He clearly still doens't trust it and that is fine. as long as he remains calm and collected... which Dust knows is too mcuh to ask of Killer because it is Killer but Dust puts that out of his mind.

horror is harder to calm down just because Dust doens't know Horror that well but it seems Horror had been watching them already. Dust speaks calmly "Nothing you feel is what you feel really. It is just them doing this." Dust hopes. He isn't sure if this being can actually physically make their fake pains real but his shielding should protect them from it. It is too protect against harm after all.

Horror frowns but nods and pulls away from the wound and his middle.

Okay. Okay. He got this.

"Impressive. Waht gave it away that it was fake?"

Dust is shocked by this being's voice. It is deep and calm. The eye seems amused but Dust isn't sure how to ready this being just yet.

His growing and forming migraine isn't helping either. It is getting almost painful to concentrate on them. And Dust knows it is because this is a strong creature. Almost like his body tries to warn him when he gets near something too powerful for him to handle.

This being is much too powerful for him to have summoned. Oh shit.

The being tilts its head as it continues to look at him.

Right! It had asked a question.

Dust considers not answering them but if he wishes for them to break the bonds keeping Killer stuck in Cross's body he needs to have abit of a positive standing.

So. Chitchat.

Dust shrugs "Looked through some stuff... it mentioned you are connected to emotions and bonds made with those. Not specifically harming others at a distance."

The being nods as it looks abck to the circles "Interesting circles. I never seen any like them before. Usual people try the more..." they smirk "Traditional circles to get me. You know the ones. sacrifices."

Dust frowns as he looks to the side "Fucking idiots is what those people are. Why use does something that uses emotions have of something dead?"

The thing's smirk grows and they nods "Very true. Rather unimpressive and does not do well to impressive someone. For that matter. You have my attention. What did you wish of me... Dust was it?"

Dust nods "It still is." he rubs his notebook "I want to make a deal."

They grin and purr as they speak "Of course you do. What would you need of me?"

Dust points with his thumb over his shoulder to Killer "There is a poltergeist in this body that should not be in it. I want him out of this body so the original spirit who the body belongs to can enter it again."

The being tilts his skull again before focussing their sight on Killer. Dust can hear Killer start to growl and feel his grip on himself tighten.

The other looks amsued "You sure? He seems very fond of you."

Dust makes sure to look unimpressed and keep his voice deadpan "That is the problem. As spirit he is a lot easier to ignore. Now he is mobile and can cause property damage."

The being chuckles as they look at them all. Their magic glowing and reaching but the shield does its work and keeps them out. Dust raises a brow and the other smiles innocently "Can't blame me for trying." then a moment later as he looks thoughtful "huh... interesting."

Cross sounds nervous "what is?!"

The other looks amused "What exactly caused you to.... have your body... borrowed?"

Cross looks embarrassed as he crosses his arms. Yeah no. Dust does not have time for this. "The spirit was first anchorred to me. I asked Cross to remove said anchor. His ritual went wrong and this is the new situation."

The other chuckles as they shake their head "Of course it didn't work. You did a trade ritual."

Dust stops. So THAT is why the ritual circles had looked weird! Cross looks panicked "waht is that?! It can't have been... I used a ritual from old priest scrolls!"

the other nods "Yeah that would do it. It used to be the only way priests could get dmeons and spirits out of the victims bodies or away from them. By offering a trade. instead of just feeling parts of alive or temporary possessing they would offer their own bodies for the spirit. Giving the spirit a much better place to reside and live instead of the victim." more amsuement "of course... the priests using this also made sure to eat and drink holy to make sure that while their body was a free ride it also became a deathtrap."

Cross looks beyond alarmed "I didn't know that! Dust!!"

Dust holds up his hands "You came to me with that ritual. How was i suposed to know what it did?"

Cross waves his hands "You always know stuff about rituals!"

Dust groans but looks at the other being "Can you fix it?" because that is the real question.

The other seems to think for a moment. tap their chin before making a so-so motion "I may have a solution but it isn't what your friend probably wants. I can not undo the ritual completely but i can change it. I can make it that the poltergeist is no longer the holder and owner of the body."

Cross is already nodding but Dust frowns "What would happen if we did that route?"

They look amused "It means that his body? Becomes more of an... open territory, at least temporary. It means that if the spirit is strong enough and stubborn enough they can claim the body for a while to inhabit. the exact limits depends on the spirit and the body."

Cross sputters "You mean! My body becomes like a... a... rental?!"

the other stops and seems to think it over before nodding "In a way. Eventually your body and spirit should recover enough themselves to make it so you are anchored to your own body again. That is usually how the priests regained full control themselves after destroying the being they trapped. They would stay on holy ground to make sure no spiritis challenged their claims over their body. but that is all i can do."

Dust frowns "would cross need to be the only one in his body for that to work?" if that is the case they would need to get to the chapel real soon after Killer got evicted.

The other shakes his head "Not specifically. He would get his claim over his body back faster if he stayed on holy ground but even on neutral ground as someone else possesses him his body would know this is not the spirit that is suposed to be in it. and eventually kick it out. again, when this happens depends on the spirit and body themselves."

Dust frowns. meaning. Cross will eventually regain his full body control but it would take time. Killer, or any spirit for that matter, could possesses him and gain control over Cross's body. Leaving his spirit out of it. This would stay this way until either Cross can repossess himself over the spirit's control, or until cross's body realises the problem itself and kick out the uninvited guest.

He looks at Cross "Can you live with that?"

Cross seems to think before nodding.

Cool. at least this ritual and the near mental or emotional breakdowns weren't for nothing. Dust turns back to the being "What would you want in return for payment?"

The being hums and grins "a favor?"

Dust glares "No."

The being sighs but doens't sound disappointed or surprised "Can't blame me for trying." then he looks at them again. clearly in thought.

They nod and smile "I want a very specific thing. An artifact I lost a while ago. I want you. To find it and bring me to it so i can reclaim it."

Dust raises a brow "So you wnat me to find it and summon you near it?"

The other smirks and shakes his skull "I want you to make haste to find it. So i will remain here in this realm as you search it. the deal is completed as soon as i have it back in my possession. and then any debt is repayed."

Dust stands there and groans "Are you fucking kidding me!?" he covers his skull as he just hangs his head in his hands.

Killer holds him clsoer "Dusty? what is wrong?"

Ash however is cursing as well as he figured it out too.

Dust glares "I already HAVE three spirits stuck to me! Two of which who werne't invited! Why would i add another one to that!?"

The other smiles as he crosses his arms "that is my price."

Dust glares "I am not even sure if i can savely make another anchor. This is too high risk." not to forget he doesn't even know if this being needs a stronger connection or takes more magic to be here. Dust only has so much energy and magic.

The being waves it off "I wouldn't be anchored to you. I would be anchored to the very concept of our deal. The reason I would be here and be able to stay would only be because of the deal. the deal is completed? I will return to my realm and you would be debtfree."

Dust frowns as he thinks it over. okay at least not another anchor. he frowns "What if i can't get the artifact?"

The other being smirks "the debt would remain. but i am not unfair. sometimes people can still complete tasks from beyond the grave and i am patient."

Dust frowns "what is even the artifact?"

The being smiles "Why would you need to know?"

Dust glares "I would need to know if i need to find it."

the being considers it before nodding "It is an artifact normally used for rituals connected to the god of destruction."

Dust thinks for a moment before his sockets widen. He may have a clue... He knows that the cults have been obsessed with a god of destruction.

Dust nods "Okay. you break the bond now. and in trade i help you get to that artifact." Ash looks unsure but clearly trusts him tom know what he is doing.

The being smiles as he holds out a hand. it glows cyan "So. we have a deal?"

Dust nods "We have a deal." he exits the protective circle and goes to the very edge of the containment circle.

They stare at each other.

the being smirks as they hold out a hand "I. Nightmare. King of negativity agree to the terms of the prediscussed deal. which consists that i will remove the spirit stuck in Cross's body and remove the claim it has under it. In return Dust will assist in the search of the artifact used in rituals of the destroyer. once this artifact is foudn the deal is complete and will be done."

Dust takes a deep breath as he raises his hand and covers it with his own magic aura. only a soft weak violet light compared to the fluorescent blue that the being, Nightmare, gives off.

They shake hands and Dust can see the magic settle on his own hand and a small cyan mark on his hand. it is shaped like a moon.

He takes his hand back and Nightmare steps out of the circle "Very good circle work. I look forwards to working with you." Nightmare walks right over to Killer in Cross's body.

Killer glares but Nightmare does not look impressed. He grabs the soul and motions towards the soul. the soul turns cyan blue and Nightmare pulls his arm and hand back.

Dust watches as the soul is forcefully removed ffrom Cross's body and Kilelr's spirit follows it.

Cross's body goes limp as Nightmare holds Killer away from the body. a small line of red connecting the two. Nightmare grabs the line and snaps it.

Cross gapss and dives back into his own body.

Ngihtmare releases both Cross and Killer and crosses his arms.

Cross taps and checks his own body before falling to the ground "oh fuck... fuck i am me. Dust! Dust thank you so much!"

Ngihtmare looks amsued "It will take time before spirits can't easily possess you anymore. I would skip making or doing rituals for a while."

Killer pouts and floats over to Dust and pouts at him "But dusty. Now i can't join you in bed anymore."

Dust glares "You weren't welcome to begin with."

okay.

okay!

Cross's body situation is mostly sorted or will be sorted over time.

Which just leaves. getting Killer and Horror disconnected from him.

Maybe after this deal is complete he can discuss with Nightmare about other deals to unanchor both of them.

For now! Best repay the debt before he adds to it...

Time to do some more reading and research on this cult of destruction.

[sesamenom]

arwen's goth phase, aka the most stressful decade of sauron's life

with the full mask & veil without the white makeup

[its-pit-not-icarus]

hey lightning rod ⚡ (tap/click for higher quality!)

[khattikeri]

i think the whole "jin guangyao cares more for his male best friend's life than for those of his own wife and son" thing, beyond being fun xiyao fuel, has a lot of interesting implications in the way jin guangyao latches onto lan xichen as an ideal to aspire to.

ultimately jin guangyao liked lan xichen's status and power more than he cared for qin su, a woman who sincerely loved him and fought her parents to be with him even when he had no real status or backing, and jin rusong*, who couldn't have been more than four when he was murdered for politics' sake.

[yuwuta]

If megumi asked uzhsjdhshd omg I totally see it tbh him wanting you, but I don't think megumi would ever ask yuuji to share you, in any type of way at all. (not trying to push my own hc here!!) I feel like yuuji himself would be the one asking megumi. Yuuji knows that he's yours just as much as he knows you're his. And he loves you too much, a lot, it's purest type of love he has ever felt for anyone. And megumi is his best friend, he loves him just as much, right? Yes, not the same love between you and him ofc but yes. And I have no idea what they were doing but yuuji's just says, kind of out of the blue, that he'd let megumi fuck you. The reason being exactly cause he knows you're his, and you're just so so good that he needs to have someone to talk to (about you and always so respectfully) and who better that his best friend?

you’re opening the pandora’s box that is itfs + reader…. god….. 

okok i agree. if you’re dating yuuji, megumi would never ask, yuuji would be the one to bring all three of you together. definitely because he loves you and you’re his, and he loves megumi too, so it just makes sense that his two favorite people also get to have each other—but also, yuuji can tell megumi likes you, and he can tell you think megumi is attractive and since yuuji’s so nice, what kinder thing to do than to set you two up so he can watch (: he definitely enjoys being the mediator, also enjoys the somewhat awkward air between you and megumi, how yeah, maybe it’s a little taboo that the two of you are about to make out while you’re boyfriend watches, but yuuji likes that too… also he likes knowing that you both like him. like how lucky is he that his best friend and his girlfriend adore him so much :(( you two together makes so much sense in his head, because he talks to megumi about you, and he talks to you about megumi, and now, he can just pour all his love for both of you out at the same time

but also…. i’d like to think that yuuji’s maybe not so nice when it’s the other way around—when he and megumi get together first, and you’re megumi’s best friend. he’s not mean, but he does like to tease... how naughty of megumi to ask out yuuji knowing he’s still got a crush on you, and god does yuuji like to tease him about it :/ jerks him off and taunts about how he knows megumi’s dirty little secret—that he’s in love with his best friend and fantasizes not just about having you, but about watching his own boyfriend fuck you too… 

yuuji knows megumi would take his feelings for you to the grave if he could (he’d have done the same with his feelings for yuuji if yuuji wasn’t the one to ask him out), but where’s the fun in that! you and megumi are sooo cute together after all, so yuuji doesn’t mind trying to get you two to confess to each other too. uses his proximity to megumi to get closer to you, takes advantage of his bubbly disposition to be physically affectionate with you, uses megumi’s feelings to his advantage to tease, to wink, to smirk whenever you and yuuji hug a little longer, when he texts megumi that he’s meeting up with you for lunch, when he gives you his jacket and doesn’t ask for it back… there’s so much fun in watching megumi blush and whine and get off at the thought of his best friend and his boyfriend together. and the thing is, yuuji genuinely does like you, too, he sees what megumi sees in you, and he thinks megumi is crazy to have not asked you out before, but he supposes everything happens for a reason, because now, this way, yuuji gets to be there and watch it all happen under his guidance. there’s something about the power, about being the bridge between you two even though you and megumi have known each other for much longer, about being in control of a dynamic that could have, but wouldn’t exist without him…