#wanna write a continuation now

[is-this-even-relatable]

Misfortune Teller

tldr: An older Danny, apprentice to Clockwork, does a lot of field work across dimensions, resetting the timeline, queuing future events, and who knows what else. Occasionally, he warns people about such upcoming possibilities, to set them on the right path. How, you might ask? Well in this case... as a wandering fortune teller.

Crack-fic (oh god, it's getting long and my logic brain won't let it remain as crack) where Danny becomes Clockwork's apprentice after getting his GED. Living his infinite afterlife to the fullest. Inspired by this tumblr post.

Working for Clockwork had been... interesting so far. At first, Danny got frustrated by how vague and cryptic Clockwork was. He'd just shunt Danny off to some ancient time with a few words, his own time medallion (Danny carried it everywhere with him now), and then pop back into the portal, leaving Danny with only the faintest idea of where to go.

Eventually, after enough time (ha!) spent around Clockwork, Danny figured out that it just basically meant that he had free reign and to do whatever he wanted. Because if he went on the wrong path, (like that one time in Pompeii when he had almost caused the volcano to explode a few years too early), Clockwork would just pop on by, say another few cryptic words, and then it'd all be fine and dandy, or as he liked to say, "All is as it should be... Now stop practicing your wail by an active volcano."

After telling Jazz about that (it was supposed to be funny, not concerning), she just sighed and shook her head, with a forlorn "think before you act, Danny!" but hey, it'd turned out fine so far, so who cares how he does what Clockwork asks him to do, as long as it gets done, right? Even if it's with a liiiiitle more mischief than strictly required.

Besides. Danny was the one who had been doing time shenanigans across millennia, not Jazz. And he thought he'd been getting pretty good at it too! He'd actually started giving himself a different made-up background for each universe he visited. Sam and Tucker were helping him keep up with the identities on a spreadsheet, so if he had to go back to one he'd already visited, he'd remember who he'd said he was supposed to be.

---

He was on a call with them one evening while haunting Jazz's apartment, doing just that, when he felt a familiar tingle in the back of his throat, as well as a heightened awareness of the seconds passing by, that always accompanied his mentor's appearance.

Sam was talking about his past stint posing as a god of death when he cut in. "Hey- sorry to interrupt, Sam- Clocky's here, guys, I gotta dip."

"Aw, come on! We hardly talked any this past week since you passed your certifications, man," Tucker complained.

Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Yeah, yeah. Partly on you too though, you've been caught up outside of class, and Sam's schedule is nearly the opposite of yours."

Sam hummed in agreement despiter Tucker's scoff.

Danny missed hanging out with them as much as they had in high school, but hey, life goes on. Or at least, theirs did, to college. After finally flunking out of Casper High, he'd taken some time to get used to his responsibilities in the ghost zone, and when he had, he realized that he didn't really have much enthusiasm or timeleft for his human life.

And he didn't really want to go back home either.

But Jazz had made him tie up any loose ends before he noped-off to god knows where, which frankly, he had to thank her for. Getting his GED took a few years, but it was an accomplishment that could be attributed to Danny Fenton, no ghostliness required. Then he was able to let that tether go free.

Pulled out of his musings by a few more grumbles from Tucker, Danny said his goodbyes, promising to call the next time they were all available.

After hanging up, Danny swiveled around, anticipation already lighting up his eyes an ethereal green.

Clockwork, for his part, had been waiting patiently through Danny's lengthy goodbyes. Although he supposed that it tracked for the watcher of time to be patient. With his job, it'd be a nightmare if he wasn't.

"Phantom," Clockwork spoke, calm as always. "I have some tasks I need you to complete as my apprentice."

And Danny, always ready for adventure, didn't need him to explain any further. "Sure! When do you need me to be?"

Clockwork smiled at that. "I am fortunate you are eager. Follow me."

---

Danny popped into existence in this universe with a burst of cold air and static electricity. He found himself hovering by a clocktower above a sprawling, gothic city. Smog and light pollution obscured the stars above him, to his disappointment. He comforted himself with the fact that he'd probably have all the time he wanted to fly someplace less populated to see them later.

He started off by familiarizing himself with the city. As he flew, he followed the trail of power and met the resident city-spirit, a spooky- but kind underneath- woman draped in black lace, who told him her name was Gotham. He spoke in length with her about this universe, its heroes, and her knights. On that, she was very enthusiastic... or at least Danny thought she was, her projected emotions belaying much more than her gloomy exterior. She told him how her knights had been through a lot and would need some guidance fighting the darkness that pooled in her deepest corners, smiling with too much glee, filling lungs with fear, and terrorizing with cold hard bullets.

Danny could sense that the dangers she spoke of were growing in power, ever slowly. The longer they shadowed people's minds and hearts, an intangible thing grew that lent them more otherworldly pull than their physical forms had right to hold.

That must be what he was sent here for.

But... they were weak, pitifully so for him, infinite king as he was. And besides, he wasn't here in that sense. He was a messenger, a simple apprentice. And he could do this however he wanted.

Cue his talk with Lady Gotham, and subsequent idea to arm her knights. With what? Well, he figured knowledge would be a start. Flying high above the city invisibly, Danny noticed a sea of colors and lights by what appeared to be the city's pier. He flew down, noting that it appeared to be the setup spot for a travelling circus or carnival of some kind.

He considered what to do. One of Lady Gotham's troubles was a madman clown, right? Well maybe he'd be attracted to his ilk here... and with the danger came the knights. Maybe he could catch one of them here?

Danny was floating around at the entrance and beginning to formulate a plan when a flyer caught his eye. Looking for a mystic to read fortunes. URGENT!

Hadn't Clockwork said something about fortunes? And he hadn't made an identity in this universe yet...

A mischievous smile crept across Danny's face, splitting it in two with far too many teeth.

---

Half a city away, a man in all black, perched on the very same clocktower that Phantom had Appeared by, shivered as he felt an ominous premonition about his sanity in the near future...

Said man quickly opened his comms to check in with his many, many kids. Yet even after hearing back from each, he still felt apprehensive.

Somewhere even further, Clockwork laughed.

---

And that's how Danny found himself seated at a fortune teller's booth at a pier in Gotham, two days later, for the Tricksy Traveling Circus's grand opening.

[damian-lil-babybat]

'Dead Poets Society' gang

Headcanon that these four drop poetry and literature quotes on their conversations unprompted.

Jason 'English-major-I-only-visit-the-manor-for-the-library' Todd-Wayne

Damian 'I-master-liberal-arts-unlike-you-plebs-PHD-holder' al Ghul-Wayne

Cassandra 'I-learn-English-thru-Shakespeare-as-god-intended' Cain-Wayne

Duke 'only-title-holder-of-vigilante-poet-and-will-cuss-you-just-as-poetically' Thomas-(future) Wayne

[14dayswithyou]

Hi, Howdy! Hey! I really love your novel!! I got a little confused by the 4 day, may maybe you help me please? who is it? why we got the bad end staying the night in Ren’s apartment and he disappear of the home screen? I can’t understand “unset memory” game, sorry if I wrote smth wrong or smth sounds rude, I swear that I didn’t mean it if happened, I’m really a fan of the novel, I’ve been playing the game since day 1 or 2 I guess, probably day 1, english isn’t my first language, but I tried lol

⌞♥⌝ I hope you don't mind me answering these as bullet points!! ^^

"It" will be revealed later in the game! So I won't reveal too much right now.

You can only get the Dead End in Day 4 by staying at Ren's apartment — the rest of your choices before that don't matter. I'd also pay closer attention to the black smoke and Ren's reaction towards it!

Ren disappears from the home screen because he promised to help the player out (and stop them from getting the Dead End again). Try replaying the game again from the beginning for a surprise!

"Unsent Memories" was another visual novel (initially being written by @10chimes / @unsentmemory, though the project has since been dropped and handed back to me /pos) and is set in the same universe as 14 Days With You. Its storyline and characters are completely separate from 14DWY, so you don't have to worry about them while playing 14DWY.

[crybaby-bkg]

asking nerd Bakugou to give you a ‘pearl necklace’ and he starts grumbling about you tryna drain him dry but instead of pulling out his cock, he pulls out his phone to actually search for a pearl necklace </3

and to both his surprise and embarrassment, his phone is quickly tossed away in favor of you showing him what you’re actually asking for. he’s not mad though—not when you end up looking so pretty covered in white, grinning, and asking for another necklace <3

[towerofluin]

C’mon Raph, don’t noogie the elderly

(Or: finally, communication)

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what is your favorite thing about charles and your favorite thing about erik? separately, as in what you like most about their characters :]

a devious question this one is, my friend!!! it's hard enough for me to explain my thoughts cohesively, but having to pick ONE thing i particularly love is difficult. with characters like charles and erik, theres been so much done with their characters over the decades and so they have so many components to them that make them so interesting and fun to observe. BUT I TRY FOR YOU TODAY. under the cut i kinda ramble and the size of this text box makin me anxious

i think if i were to be simple and broad, what i enjoy most about charles is his determination to help others, even if he isn't really thanked and/or if people don't even like him. ofc, this isn't to say he hasn't done wrong- to be honest, the fact he does wrong/questionable things at times is another aspect of him i really enjoy, maybe because- broadly speaking- he's meant to be altruistic (intent vs outcome and all that). i don't know if that's super exciting to most people, but it is for me

as for erik, my reason for liking him is easier to explain tbh. To Be Simple And Broad, his progression from villain to antihero over the decades has been fun to observe (as much as i have so far anyhow) and analyze. i think to be a bit more specific, him using his rage and pain as justifications for his villainous actions is definitely what compels me the most: hurt people hurt and the sort, an idea i've always found interesting (something something vicious cycles and the like). yet now, he recognizes this wasn't really. A Just Thing To Do and is beginning to change that, which i enjoy

[anticidic]

Yet another skk parallel that I just realized while the BEAST brainrot was going strong:

in the original world, Dazai's the one locked up in prison, and in BEAST, it's Chuuya.

Dazai gets broken out of Meursault with Chuuya's assistance, and, UH, Beast!Chuuya's fate is less certain, but the ghost of Beast!Dazai's past reappearing? (/copium /j)

Jokes aside, since we also know Mori orchestrated Chuuya going to Meursault in the first place, he might've orchestrated something to break Beast!Chuuya out, quite possibly with Beast!Atsushi's assistance this time. I'd like to think with how passionately and with remorse Beast!Mori spoke of Beast!Dazai, he'd feel forever indebted for not being able to do more to help/save him and would not want Beast!Chuuya+the Port Mafia to descend into chaos.

But also, like, with Stormbringer perspective, the fact Beast!Chuuya's fate is getting locked up in a government facility just makes it hurt that much more. That's the last that we know of his fate, but I don't see him being permanently imprisoned until death, at least not without attempts to break him out. Beast!Atsushi may or may not know much of Dazai's and Chuuya's partnership going back to when they were teens, but I have a sneaking suspicion Beast!Mori eventually divulged their past to him.

[motleyfam]

i juat want you to know that "settle our bones" pulled me out of not only a depressive episode but a creative block too!! can't wait to read the next installments if you plan to continue the series 🫶

I’m so glad it was able to inspire you! That’s so awesome to hear ❤️🥺

[nompunhere]

sorry to all the people in my fandom in this community who rely on me as one of the very few vore writers/artists for it, hoping to find content of their favorite characters while I just obsess over the same 2-3 guys continuously

but also I'm not sorry at all because this is My House and I make what I want 👉👉

[caustinen]

i saw this video and the brainrot overcame me and i wrote 2.4k words of secret agent!bucky and bond girl!gale except that actually he’s the son of a mob boss that works as a double agent

tags: smut / feelings / angst / injuries / tending of injuries

enjoy?

hold me like a knife (ao3)

It takes only three simple words, and the pain in Bucky’s wounds seem to vanish at once as he fighst a grin — his first smile for days.

”You look horrible.”

Gale speaks in his matter-of-fact and yet oddly tender tone as always, as if he was just observing facts that had no real implications for him; it’s the very same tone that caught Bucky’s interest in the first place before he ever even saw his face.

He loses the fight with the grin, though it’s quickly overcome with a grimace as he leans to the doorframe and accidentally touches on a fresh bruise. ”I missed you too, doll,” he manages to sound nonchalant, at least to his own ears, but the slight tightening of Gale’s expressions reveals he has been caught. A gentle but determined hand reaches for the collar of his jacket and pulls him into the hotel room, Bucky making sure to kick the door closed behind himself. The lock clicks just as soft fingers run down the less bruised side of his face before he’s guided down so the shorter man can press a careful kiss to his lips. His own hands land on his shoulders, running up and down his biceps and squeezing lightly. He’s like a child who has gotten his favorite plushie back after a vaction, he supposes, as he seeks the comfort of touch with the despair of a starving man.

The kiss starts light, careful, Gale clearly trying to determin how much Bucky is hurting — the lower lip is slightly swollen from where it split to a knife — but as Bucky presses himself closer and tries his luck with a tentative lick between his lips, Gale sighs before opening up to him. Bucky only realizes how tense he has been when his shoulders drop and he relaxes into Bucky’s embrace. The hitched breathes and sighs and wet sounds of their lips meeting fill the silence between them, and Bucky can feel life bleed back into him with each little silent ngh that Gale probably doesn’t even realize he’s making.

The slowness molded by the simple pleasure of the other’s body heat close starts to vanish into real passion, the touch of their mouths getting more demanding, but unfortunately a nib of Gale’s teeth on his tender lip makes him hiss in pain, immediately pulling Gale farther away. Bucky doesn’t let him go far, hands now secured around the small of his back, and Gale doesn’t fight him either. He’s blushed by their effort and his lips are slightly swollen now too as his eyes travel over Bucky’s face once more, no doubt noting each of his visble wounds and calculating how many he’s hiding underneath his suit. His eyes stop on the three hazardly done stitches on his left eyebrow, and Bucky knows he doesn’t need to tell him he’s put them there himself, just now on the plane.

He might tell him later, when they’re cooling down under a single blanket and Gale’s playing with his hair or fingers and he doesn’t have to look him in the face as he talks because he knows Gale will be latching on to each word, not missing a single unvoiced moment of pain and fear from his story that he’s not ready to admit even to himself.

Gale hums. He looks like he’s deep in thought, but Bucky can tell he’s still more alert than most people are when they really put their mind to it, just by the virtue of his upbringing. The thought physcally aches somewhere deep in his insides and Bucky realizes more than ever what a bad idea it was to come here like this, he’s clearly too in his feelings to be acting rationally, too raw from the gruelling assignment and worrying about Gale. His arms around the smaller man tighten without his permission but Gale doesn’t comment on it, still carefully mapping out his face with his gaze and fingertips.

”You should be at a hospital,” he finally says, whispers, really, the worry and relief he’s still at one piece battling each other over every syllable. Bucky swallows the lump from his throat and forces a grin. They don’t have long, they never do, and he’ll be damned if he made it all the way back just to crumble at his feet.

(Gale would let him, and pick him back up and put together no matter how many pieces he’d be in, and that’s why he won’t.)

”Nah,” Bucky says, satisfied with how truly carefree he does sound that time, ”I had to come see my baby first.” The endearement works wonders like always. Gale let’s out a silent breath and his eyes soften despite shaking his head slightly before reaching for another kiss. It’s softer, again, taking them back to the start, and that’s fine with Bucky, he’s too tired and tender for all these emotions right now. ”Well, you’re not gonna bleed all over my sheets,” Gale tells him as he pulls back again, ”c’mon, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Bucky lets his mind fade into a pleasant hum in the background as Gale unburdens him from his suit layers, biting his lip unhappily as he uncovers the bruising and cuts all over his torso but not saying anything. Bucky’s merely an observer as he’s pushed into the shower, the water pleasant rythm on his tired body. He leans to the cold wall and closes his eyes, unsure how long he just stays there taking it in before the door opens and closes with silent clicks and a smaller body presses against him. He keeps his eyes closed when Gale washes his hair, humming in content, following the gentle guidance of sure hands he trusts with the essances of his soul. He opens his eyes when Gale’s hands make a long stop on his cheeks again after rinsing the shampoo of. He finds his doll eyes looking at him, thoughtful and scared and thankful and suddenly Bucky feels chocked up again so he takes his face between his hands and presses his lips to the blonde’s forehead and tastes the clean water there.

After quickly washing his own hair under Bucky’s interested eyes Gale drags them out. For himself he pulls on a bathrobe before taking using one of the towels for Bucky’s curls and then the other for delicately tracing down his torso between all the marks of violence. Bucky stays silent even when he starts to disinfect the cuts, giving away his exhauston completely, but the silence is soft like a protective cushion between them and the world.

Once he’s happy Gale takes him by the hand and pulls him after himself. Bucky’s back hits the mattress and he suddenly feels all the tiredness at once at the soft embrace of the clean sheets, and then immediately after wide awake again as Gale’s thighs settle on both sides of his lap, hands automatically coming to rest lazily on his hips as Gale leans over him on all fours to press airy pecks all over his abused face — his temples, cheekbones, eyelides, side of his nose, the sharpest edge of his jawline — as if trying to force a protective spell, or a blessing, upon his skin.

”Sweetheart,” Bucky murmurs dreamily as the other keeps going down from his face, pressing his face into his neck and collarbones and inhaling him like an addict looking for his fix. Gale hums in answer absentmindedly and kisses his way further down. He kisses each of the bruises softly, nibbing at the parts of his skin that are not injured, letting the skin go up and down with his teeth, never biting hard enough to actually hurt but leaving his little signatures everywhere on his abs, navel, hip-joints.

Bucky’s hands have found reign in his hair at some point, long fingers twisted in wet strands and pulling just a little when Gale breathes against the base of cock, pressing his lips there and giving the sensitive skin between his dick and balls like it was something sacred. Bucky hisses in want as Gale guides both of his knees over Gale’s shoulders when he gives more admiring kisses to his manhood, asking to be pressed down to the bed with Bucky, to be let to be lost in their pleasure for just a moment.

Gale goes down on him like he wants to regain him, almost like he wants to hurt him too to replace memories of everyone else hurting him. Bucky groans as his throat clicks when he gags on him, and then moans immediately after, doing it again and again. It’s lewd and dirty and perfect. John can do nothing else but take it and whisper soft praise, ”So good for me darling”, ”Just like that”.

Gale pulls back to breathe properly, and Bucky drags him sitting up by his hair, making Gale whine with a wide smile on his face. ”Show-off,” Bucky accuses him quietly, with a fond little smile, their dicks rubbing together as Gale sits on his lap again. The blondie laughs into the kiss as Bucky turns them around, backing Gale up until the top of his hair is touching the metal frame of the bed.

They stare at each other there for a moment, Bucky taking his time now to look at him, pressing the image to his mind for moments when the warmth of the younger is just a distant memory. Gale bites his lip again, but this time with a happy grin, as Bucky bullies his thighs apart with his own and then presses down on him until his calves are trapped between them. ”Are you sure?” Bucky scoffs, shaking his head. ”Sweetheart. The day when I respond to that ’you know what, I’m good actually’ I want you to end my life with a tool of your choice.” Gale makes a disapproving clicking sound with his tongue but reaches to play with Bucky’s curls again with his left hand, softness in his eyes that makes him look younger. Pain swirls through John at the sight. ”I’m really okay just having you close-” Bucky shuts him up by licking at his lips. ”Shh. Let me, baby.” Gale falls silent, looking up at him with stars in his eyes, and it scares Bucky he knows how much he trusts him. ”Please, let me,” he whispers against his lips again. Gale nods.

John takes one hand to each of his own and presses them gently to the headboard. A soflty whispered ”stay” and then ”good boy” as Gale wraps his slender fingers around the metal there makes the blonde’s breath hitch. John keeps his hands there for a bit before running them down his arms, lips locked in a passionate kiss, the little noises Gale makes into it driving him wild. His own cock is aching and Gale’s drying saliva is cooling and making him extra sensitive, but he still takes his time prepping Gale carefully, taking care of him like he took care of him earlier in the bathroom.

He pulls his three fingers out when Gale’s sounds get loud and keening despite his best efforts of muffling them — there’s no need to be quiet here, but old habits die hard. He lubes himself up and sits up straighter on his knees between Gale’s legs. Gale is breathing hard, chest heaving between them, his hands still around the metal. John leans down to kiss him to not tell him how much he loves him and then pushes into him as Gale’s moans fill his lungs.

He can’t keep kissing him for long, the sudden need to take him hard overwhelming and immediate. There’s spit connecting their heart-shaped lips as Bucky presses his hands on the mattress on both sides of Gale’s head and puts his back into it, his pain, his frustration, and Gale throws his head to the side and smiles, and Bucky’s heart aches again so he fucks him harder, drinking in the happy sighs with his eyes and ears alike.

He notices that Gale’s arms are shaking with the effort of keeping them against the frame so he slows down for a moment, reaching for his hands again and carefully pulling them towards the core of them, waiting for Gale to have them wrapped around his neck before he drives into him slower but deeper. Gale’s gasping for breath with each thrust, his eyes closed and face focused on pleasure, and Bucky would like nothing more than to drag this out until the morning but he knows he needs to rest, and he’d rather fall asleep with Gale wrapped around him than see him leave at dawn to return for the shadows assigned to him.

Gale opens his eyes and they stare at each other, Bucky momentarily posessed by the hazy blue that looks up at him in melancholy, in need, in hope, in love. Bucky is immediately resigned, he wants to tear up his chest and stop feeling or stop the time and stay like this forever. He will give Gale anything he needs, anytime he can.

”In me,” Gale pleads him, and Bucky presses his lips to his forcefully now, overcome by the image of Gale pulling on his clothes and going back to his betrothed with Bucky still dripping from him. He whines aloud at the thought and gives it to him harder, better, louder, and Gale murmurs praise and gratitude into his open mouth before throwing his head back and coming between them. Bucky follows him there and then the room is silent again, both of them breathing hard, the sweat cooling between them. Gale has hidden his face to Bucky’s hair, away from the world, his arms hugging tightly around his neck, wanting to morph into this moment and only breathe the cheap hotel shampoo for the rest of his days. Bucky mouths at his neck, yearning to mark the pure skin that’s not his to claim, at least if he cares about keeping his Gale alive.

Bucky turns them carefully to their sides, slipping away from him. Gale feels suddenly cold and pushes himself closer so he can stay away from the room and the world beyond it for a moment more. Bucky makes a soothing cooing sound for he can’t say to him anything to make it better, and hugs him thight when he feels the first sob force it’s way out of his lover. He’ll hold him close for as long as he can, caress the perfect valleys of his back, and pray they both live to have this fleeting moment again.

[lightbulb-warning]

i used to freehand comics all the time as a child and since the part i liked was the drawing part i would just draw panel after panel because i didn't want to stop drawing to think about icky icky words, plus the story TOTALLY still made perfect sense! to me! and noone else, but 'whoooo caaaaares omgggg its not like comics and sequantial art are a communicative meeediummmm lmaoooooo'. i spent my entire childhood telling myself stuff like "oh pfft I know this story by heart- ill SIMPLY remember the dialogue and write it later" ...and. I can't help but admire baby maiora's (call that a minora ba tm tsk) fucking audacity? hubris? confident wrongness? kid couldn't even remember to finish the comics in the first place? INCREDIBLE levels of unearned self assurance, wish that were me, genuinely- what an icon!!! anyway i think i have forever cursed myself

[autistic-katara]

u ever think of a ship u like one-sidedly and wonder why tf u didn’t project onto them when suffering from a bad one sided crush

[cursedzucchini]

Well fuck me, i just spend an hour looking through my liked posts, to find that one angst Damian and Danny twins. Still didn't find it. Imma describe it lil more bellow, but if anyone knows what prompt I'm talking Abt pls tell me, imma tag it in the morning.

Prompt: Danny and Damian twins, but they hate each other. I think in the og post there were two versions, like Danny hoping Damian likes him now, but Damian tries to stab him, or both of them hating each other. I didn't take any route, i just wrote this prologue thingie. I think i might continue this, but if anyone gets inspired, feel free to add anything?

Something Abt Danny and Damian hating each other (or Damian hates Danny, Danny... Tried to survive, and later Damian regrets everything and Danny is bitter/scared of Damian) just scratches this part of my brain. Anyway yee that's all

Danyal al Ghul was gone.

His body was left to rot in some abandoded bunker. His grave empty, because Damian never bothered to bring his body back. His name deleted from every record, no failure has place between the best.

Damian didn't remember much about him. He knew his brother looked similar to him, they were twins after all. He was also pretty sure the younger one was shorter than him, though that couldn't be correct. There weren't any memories of Danyal being sick, so how could he be shorter than Damian? There was also the distinct impression of an awkward smile, but he might've mixed the memories up. Why would his twin wear such an unsure (pathetic) expression (grimace)? He was also the son of the demon, even if he was a failure. There is no such a place for weakness.

No, it must have been someone else. Damian had another clearer memory where his face was perfectly neutral. There is no reason to make such a face, if you are able to hide it.

Though that... Wasnt correct either?

Richard had recently taken to try and explain more about how their family functions. He reasoned that surely the League and Batman work diffefently, giving Damian many sound arguments. Yet he was sure the real reason for these... Lessons, was to explain more about the mundane side of things.

In one of the evenings spend arguing with the older man over the most idiotic things (if Drake was acting stupid, obviously he deserved a knife thrown at him), Damian somehow found himself talking about his annoyance, with his family uselessly emoting. How is Damian supposed to know, when they are truly proud of him, when they are truly disappointed, when they always show all of their emotions? How is he supposed to see which one is just them being weak, and which one is true?

His brother looked at him. There was pity in his eyes. And guilt. And pain. Damian wished Richard wasn't his brother.

Richard explained it. He spoke of emotions, and how they are natural, and none of them are false.

Damian didn't understand. He's not sure if understabds them now. But. If no emotions are false. And none of them make him weak. [Than why did mother taught them]

He doesn't like thinking about it.

But he hates thinking about Danyal more.

All his supposedly true emotions don't make sense. He... He feels his chest fill up with warmth when he thinks of him. He feels similar pain as when he is hungry in his chest. A strange mist falls and chokes his mind, whenever he is even reminded of his younger twin.

And there is bead of pure hatred inside his lungs, hating his crooked smile, detesting his small hands and despising his bright eyes.

[Wishing death on himself for not remembering their color. How could he forget his own twins eye color? Why does he only remembers the disgusting lightness making his stomach churn, their ugly staring at all his faults, wishing him fail]

Damian is quite sure Richard lied. There is no way all these foolish emotions are true. They don't make sense by themselves, how can they make sense mixed together? And after all they aren't strong enough to overcome hus brilliant self control, so they cannot be that true.

Or they weren't, until he caught the eye of a stranger.

A stranger with bright eyes.

With an awkward crooked smile, but other wise empty face.

A stranger with their hands playing with their shirt in obvious show of nerves

A little shorted than himself and...

A face almost the same as Damian's.

[bunnyboy-juice]

spent the first hour and change at work deleting some old files and am having a grand ol time laughing at myself for not realizing i was a lesbian sooner

[the-ninja-legacy-whip]

*glares at 8k word chapter* how are you not finished yet

[quietlyblooms]

dw i'm writing, but promise me you won't let me get back into h.aik.yuu!! i'll go truly insane if i collect any more silly lil boys to write or start contemplating old oc's again. i don't wanna do it