#which is quite notable honestly

[rawliverandgoronspice]

They way we all be fighting for our life whenever nintendo openly decides they care about that timeline again

honestly, I am a little tired of nintendo's attitude. They do not seem to care a whole lot about their lore or the characterization of their world (they = management, I'm sure individual gamedevs do care and fight for their life and lose on the regular) given they appear to have outsourced it, which, I mean, it's fine it's their world, it's their game, they cultivate whichever audience suits them best. But for them to put out a new updated timeline that you can buy for money, after everything? I don't know, it's starting to feel borderline contemptful to me.

Is it a game that cares about narrative or not? If yes, then you're doing a rather poor job of that imo. If not, then stop pretending like you put any thought into this, and stop milking the investment of old fans while failing to understand what a lot of them are asking for.

I think I'm just going to sidestep a lot of what Nintendo is doing and hope for enough pushback that they change their strategy, which I don't assume will happen given there will always be people to be invested in Zelda games. In the meantime, I'll hope for a smaller game, extremely extraordinarily ignore the movie, and do my own thing.

[moonstandardtime]

i want to put link in isat. im sure hed do fine. the heros spirit endures

[sysig]

Some scribbles :) (Patreon)

[ldrfanatic]

Crawl Home to Her

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader synopsis - you and theo had always been enemies and you thought he hated you until you found out that he loves you so much it hurts; lowkey just quite a bit of fluff lol; enemies to lovers; both theo and y/n come from death eater families and they both have the dark mark.

slytherin boys masterlist works

part two here

Inspired by Work Song by Hozier

"What do you want, Nott?" Your voice rang out and broke the silence of the moonlit hallway.

Theodore Nott had always been your enemy. Since the moment the two of you arrived at Hogwarts, you'd always hated each other. No exceptions. He pulled on the ends of your hair in potions, he mocked you in Defense Against the Dark Arts, and he sent stupid little notes to you in Transfigurations that conveniently burned up before you got the chance to read them.

So, yes, Theodore Nott was your enemy.

Which is why you were so surprised to hear his footsteps following you. Especially when he should be in the Slytherin Common Room enjoying the huge winter party they'd thrown.

"Couldn't sleep?"

His smooth baritone voice contrasted your airy one. Still, you couldn't decipher if he was asking you or fumbling for an excuse.

Theodore Nott was cool, calm, collected. You'd learned that much over the years. He didn't need excuses or reasons and he didn't bother to explain himself. It honestly took you by surprise when he answered your question at all.

The first time that you and Theo got into it was the second week of class in your second year. He'd never been particularly kind to you, but he hadn't been rude either. Well, until then. You'd taken to being friends with Pansy Parkinson, a fellow second year in Slytherin who had the largest crush on another Slytherin second year, Blaise Zabini. Blaise often hung out with Theo, who you'd known from first-year, and two other boys you didn't meet until that year, Draco Malfoy and Mattheo Riddle.

The boys teased Pansy relentlessly and you stuck up for her as often as you could. Unfortunately, that seemed to paint a big target on your back and caused them to turn their mischievous acts towards you as well.

As you and Pansy were walking towards the Great Hall for lunch one day, Theodore came rushing by with the rest of their little entourage and drop a few dung bombs on the pair of you. It shouldn't have angered you to the point you felt it necessary to start a never ending feud with the boy, but it embarrassed your little 12 year old self to an irredeemable point.

You turned swiftly on the ball of your heel and faced him. He was wrapped up in his winter robes. A green and silver scarf with the initials TN was wrapped snugly against his neck but provided no protection for his reddening nose.

It was then that you took note of how cold it was in the corridor. The castle often got drafty at night, especially in the winter, and here you were, in nothing but a school skirt and thin sweater. You could still hear the roaring sounds of laughter emanating from the dungeons.

Theodore held your gaze with a pensive stare before taking a few testing steps closer to you.

"You're going to get cold, Y/n."

His use of your first name took you by notable surprise but you masked it the best that you could. It was now year six of having known Theodore Nott. Of having known his family and their affiliations. You caught a brief sight of the black ink on his left arm as he unwrapped his scarf and tugged it around your neck. The image of the dark mark made your stomach swirl, all too familiar with the itching of your own tattoo in precisely the same part of your arm.

The damn thing had, after all, been the object of your frustrations since your mother so kindly gave it to you this past summer. As you remembered the excruciating pain, you stared into Theo's eyes. Something about the thought of him enduring the sort of pain you remember it being makes your stomach twist in a weird way. Sure, you'd known the boy for years, but the same was also true of Draco Malfoy, and you didn't feel this uncomfortable twisting when you caught glimpses of his dark mark.

"Go away." When Theo made no intention of leaving, you turned back towards the large glass window and allowed your voice to crack with emotion. "Please."

The sound of his retreating footsteps echoed down the hall. The laughter got louder as he opened the door to the common room, and then finally, quiet again.

There was only one time that you got the inclination that Theodore Nott may not hate you entirely. Fifth year at Hogwarts was quite unpleasant for pretty much every Slytherin student. After Cedric Diggory's death, Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and even Hufflepuff had taken to casually terrorizing Slytherin students in the halls. Whether that be ganging up to hex them or sneering at them from across classrooms.

Unfortunately, you'd found yourself in one of those situations. You'd asked to be excused from Potions to use the restroom. Yet, when you'd finished your business and began to exit, a group of three boys cornered you in the hallway. One of them, you recognized as Cormac McLaggen who asked you out the year before and was clearly still butt hurt about your albeit respectful rejection.

"Well, well, boys. Look what we have here," He stepped away from his sidekicks and caged you against the stone wall. You felt your discomfort growing as his face neared yours. "The little Slytherin bitch who thinks she's too good for everyone else." He laughed disgustingly and began getting closer until his body pressed yours against the brick.

"Tell me something, Y/n. When your parents pimp you out to all the other little Death Eaters, do all your nasty little friends get to touch you like this?" Cormac's words caused bile to crawl up your throat. He reached his hand out to touch you but before he could, a throat cleared only a few meters to the left. You thanked every God you could think of. For once, you were happy to see Theodore Nott's smug little face.

Only, he didn't look smug right now. Right now, he looked ready to send Cormac McLaggen into the afterlife. Painfully. "McLaggen, I swear on every life in this castle, if you touch her, it will be the last thing you ever do." Cormac was an arrogant prick, but even he knew better than to fuck with a Death Eater's son in these times. He didn't say a word to either of you as he took his sidekicks and all but ran from the scene.

You would have been touched. If it hadn't been for the fact that Theo immediately turned away from you before you had the chance to thank him and hadn't spoken to you since that day.

You snapped from your memories when a soft hand grabbed yours. Your head whipped around only to be met with the blinding smile of Pansy. Admittedly, she'd grown up quite pretty over the years. It was no wonder Blaise finally pulled his head out of his arse long enough to finally start dating her.

"Come on, Y/n. The party's pretty much over. Now it's just the rest of us. It's cold."

You let Pansy lead you back to the common room thankful when she didn't question the scarf around your neck. Your relief was short lived. As soon as you were within sight of the group, Mattheo whistled lowly. He opened his mouth like he meant to say something but a look from Theo left the boy smirking into his drink. You noted from his droopy bloodshot eyes that Theodore Nott was intoxicated. In fact, everyone was. Except for you. And of course, Hermione Granger who sat on the floor tucked into a smiling Draco Malfoy's side.

You were proud that you'd been the one to knock some sense into his head. For once, the boy did something for himself.

Mattheo's stare lingered on you before glancing to Theo and then back down to his drink again. "Perfect timing, Y/n. We were just deciding what to do." The thing to know about Mattheo Riddle is that he liked to cause chaos. He was, in that sense alone, his father's son. He especially loved when that chaos causing was directed at his favorite person to toy with. Theodore Nott. The pair had been best friends, practically attached at the hip since first year.

Mattheo Riddle was the only person in the room that knew of Theo's irrepressible love for you.

"I have the perfect idea." He stood on his place on the dark green couch and grabbed your wrist gently. He offered a smile as he lead you back to sit next to him. Conveniently, also right next to Theo.

"Now that the whole gang is here, I hear that our little Theo has a crush. Seeing as we pestered Draco endlessly until he finally found dear Granger over there, it only seems fair that Theo receive the same treatment." Draco made a loud noise of agreement before being shushed quietly by Hermione.

At this point, everyone had agreed and Theo was too intoxicated to stop them. You pushed down the panging in your heart at the idea of Theo liking someone and nodded numbly with the others, attempting to force a smile.

Mattheo's voice rang out again. "Afterall, Theo here is most honest without pesky inhibitions of being sober to get in the way."

Again, you tried to ignore the twisting in your stomach. Hermione, ever the curious cat was the first to speak up.

"When did you start liking her?"

Theo sat quietly for so long you were convinced he was going to ignore the group entirely before he finally spoke up.

"Right after I got my dark mark at the start of fifth year. My sleeves rolled up a little and she saw it. After dear old dad gave it to me, I'd kind of lost all will to even try anymore. Not to mention that my body had not reacted kindly to it. I was burning up a fever. I didn't care much how long I lived. But she was so kind. She didn't judge me. She just smiled and waved."

Your gaze burned into the side of Theo's head. Not only had you never heard him so raw and honest, you'd also never even known he was feeling this way. It made you wonder how much practice the boy had with masking his emotions. Pansy shifted uncomfortably and bounced softly on her arm chair.

"My turn! Is it a friend?"

Theo hummed and took a swig of the drink in his hand. You had half a mind to snatch the bottle and drag the poor boy to bed, but you didn't want to be on the receiving end of his discontent.

"You could say that."

Draco made a noise at his clipped answer but Blaise cut in quickly. The excitement seemed to have finally spread throughout the whole party while Mattheo watched on with a disturbingly intense look.

"You said she didn't judge you for the mark. Does that mean she's a Slytherin? A death eater even?"

Hermione shifted uncomfortably at the open talk of the dark mark but Draco's arm tightened protectively around her shoulders. He placed a chaste kiss on the side of her temple that had her body relaxing into his. The type of affection you found yourself craving for.

"I thought I dreamed her. She never asked me once about the wrong I did. Even for a Slytherin that's uncommon. Everyone wants to know. They want all the details."

Recognition passed over Mattheo's face. A look mirrored by both you and Draco. Being the children of such prominent dark figures, all four of you were familiar with the inquiries that Theo was referencing.

Finally, Draco got his opportunity to ask his question.

"Why not just talk to her then? If she's so understanding?"

Theo didn't answer. He stared at the blonde boy for a few tense moments before laughing humorlessly to himself.

"She hates me, man. I know it. I've terrorized her for years." His eyes welled up but he pushed the tears back by draining the rest of the bottle in his hand. "She's too kind for the fucked up person that I am. It hurts knowing that even when I try to be good, she can only think of me as the stupid Nott boy that's been making fun of her since first year."

Air seemed to leave every pair of lungs in the room as the attention shifted to you. A quiet accusation whispered through the air with no one brave enough to actually voice it. It didn't need to be said.

Theo purposefully kept his circle small after his father's torture over the years. There was only one girl that he'd consistently paid half a mind to at all since fourth year. You.

Theodore Nott was in love with you.

Your thoughts were confirmed when Mattheo's eyes met yours with a wink. Even further when you finally took note of all of the signs. He hadn't looked at you this whole time. He called you Y/n in the hall. In fact, now that you thought about it, he'd been calling you Y/n all year. He blew notes to you in class. He even dropped a messily wrapped present on your desk claiming it was from a secret admirer.

That alone hadn't made sense. Inside the box was a pendant that you'd seen walking in Hogsmeade with only the group of people sitting in this room. You hadn't even mentioned you wanted it.

But your gaze lingered on the piece for long enough that Theo knew he was going to buy the pendant for you.

A pendant that rested against your collarbone right now.

Suddenly, the room felt too small. The pendant was heavy on your collarbone. You could feel everyone's eyes on you but you were staring at Theo who'd taken a sudden interest in every other damn thing in the room. The group waited with baited breath before Mattheo broke the silence.

"Tsk. Theodore." He fixed an unnerving stare on you that had you subconsciously shifting a little closer to the dark haired boy on your other side. "With the war coming. You should tell her. I mean, come on. With your father's affiliations who knows what might happen to you. Either of you."

Theo's head shot up and in his drunken state, he wasn't watching how he spoke to the Dark Lord's son. Like at all.

"I don't give a damn, Mattheo. Fuck my father and his cowardly bullshit. I would burn every square inch of this planet to keep her alive." His voice was deadly serious. It didn't waver, it didn't raise. He was cool, calm, collected. Like Theodore Nott always was. For once, his eyes lit with emotion. Blazed, in fact.

You were caught by surprise when his eyes snapped towards yours. His stare was compelling. No matter how much you willed yourself to look away, his eyes pinned you. Your hand reached towards the pendant of it's own accord. His voice startled you. "As far as what might happen to me, when my time comes around, I don't care if you dump my body into the deepest ocean or lay me gently in the cold, dark earth. No grave could hold my body down, I'll crawl home to her."

His eyes never left yours. You stared up at him for a few moments trying to decipher the look on his face. You realized with a start that none other than Theodore Nott was looking at you like he would throw everything away to kiss you right now. Like you were the only thing that mattered.

Cheers erupted from around you as you threw your arms around Theo's neck and smashed your lips against his. And there was no part of your brain that disagreed with him. There was not a bone in your body that had any intention other than giving Theodore Nott exactly what he wanted. All of you.

WC - 2681

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ 'BEST FRIEND.' ✧ KENJI S.

✰ — you and kenji being besties ( depends on how u guys see it ), reader is female based, pet names.

✰ — my first time trying to write for him bc omg the brainrot over this guy is too real,, 😭💜 also kinda bad i deeply apologize aa;;

— ✩ m. list.

. dividers by @/saradika-graphics !! ⚾

BEING best friends with KENJI SATO for years ever since your high school days, the two of you surely have your own differences in a way, especially in terms of personality. You didn't even know on how you managed to be friends with him still, but you're always grateful for it, nonetheless.

For all the years, you remained by his side; even supporting him in anything he decided to do, and as the star player for the Los Angeles Dodgers in the Major League Baseball team. He won quite innumerable number of awards, thanks to his amazing performance on field, and has gained lots of fans all around the world, notably for some of the ladies who swooned over his mere appearance.

You're well-aware of his current popularity and position, but still— you tried your best to be supportive all the time, even when sometimes your thoughts are trying to drag you back negatively about yourself.

As sweet as you can be, you can still be quite of a reclused person than he is; as he ever told you before.

Kenji is always known to be quite the opposite from you— all confident and sociable to others in the public eye, often recognized to be quite the charmer as well. His overall presence has a major undeniable effect to most others without fail.

Yet, despite of all the fame he has, there surely are certain times where he actually felt lonely, even when surrounded by millions of people who actually adored him.

But knowing about your mere existence staying by his side despite everything; it makes him feel cherished and appreciated. Kenji is glad to have you, no matter on what he's doing and wherever he is at that moment.

WITH the random novel in your hands, you have decided to read for a bit while waiting for him to finish up at your usual secluded spot— not too far from where he currently is, and pretty much a spot where only the two of you knew.

A few minutes have passed by, he finally arrives at the said area and seemingly searching for any signs of you, to which you didn't even notice since you're too engrossed with the book at the moment. Being hounded by countless of paparazzi and fans surely can be so overwhelming— he's just glad to be able to make it out from there.

In spite of his somewhat exhausted appearance, a small smile manages to make its' way to his lips once his eyes landed upon your seated figure nearby.

"Finally," he reaches towards closer as to where you are, immediately getting your attention up from the book you've been reading. "I found you."

"Hey too, star boy."

You eventually closed the book and put it aside, allowing him to sit on the vacant spot properly next to you with a grin on your face. "Yeah, you found me."

Kenji may not admit it every so often, but he honestly could never get enough with the way you called him— chuckling while doing some little stretches here and there before sitting next to you.

"Oh man, it's so tiring to deal with those interviewers and people around almost all the time, y'know." He mutters with a weary-sounding sigh, resting the back of his head against the wall behind him.

"I mean, obviously it makes me happy to know that there's quite a lot of people who supported me and stuff, but they can be a real pain in the ass to deal with." He shakes his head slightly over his own words that held the mere truth, which made you feel genuinely bad for him.

"I get you," you responded, leaning your head against the wall as well. "It sounds super exhausting to handle."

"It sure is."

"I guess that's just the way it is, if anything." He then rests his chin on the palm of his hand, which situated just right atop of his left knee while he stares off at the distance.

The feeling of people swooning and admiring him sure sounds so nice, but it doesn't really get rid of the feeling of loneliness that he has to experience at times.

"They just adored the persona I've shown to the world, not the real me."

You somehow get what he's implying, even when he seemed as if he wanted to sound at least a bit jokey, to which didn't really work on you. You could see right through him.

"Well, if it helps.." Unsure on what to say, but this needed to be done because clearly, he looks like he needs one.

"You have me." You genuinely reassured him, "I just hope that you won't ever forget that."

Your words alone have an instant effect on him— managing to draw out an appreciative smile upon his features instead of his usual cocky look that he presented to others.

"Of course I won't. I'll hold onto your words."

He could tell the truthfulness behind every word you've said to him; suddenly shifting his gaze around to face you, before pulling you into a warm hug— keeping his arms wrapped around your torso and burying his face into the crook of your neck unexpectedly, much to your own surprise.

It's one of the usual gestures that you would do with each other, so you don't know as to why this time, it feels a little different somehow, but you didn't push him away at all.

Instead, you returned the embrace while stroking the back of his hair tenderly, accompanied with a quiet hum. Your actions alone have prompted him to smile against your neck further— finding it all soothing and relaxing, nuzzling into your warmth.

"You give the best hugs, I swear." Kenji audibly murmurs, which made the specific area on your neck to feel more ticklish than usual.

"Oh really?" A giggle escaped from you due to the ticklish sensation, which causes him to merely smirk in pure delight. "I feel honored."

Kenji begin to point out, lifting his head slightly and not entirely just yet. "I almost forgot that you're quite ticklish here."

"Shut up, you tease." You huffed with a playful eyeroll, shoving him off backwards from you a bit. "You know damn well I do."

It's easier to act all carefree when no one else is around you both to interrupt any moment you're having.

He simply laughs it off, still remaining on his seated spot despite your attempts of pushing him away from you. "Your reactions are priceless."

The baseball star player swiftly returns into doing on what he previously did— embracing you even more, holding you so delicately within his strong arms alone.

Kenji doesn't even know on what's driving him to do any of this for much longer than intended. His thoughts are going a bit haywire, yet it made him feel comfortable in a way as well. Confused, but unbothered to figure it out himself for now.

You didn't really mind though. It felt too nice, in all honesty; simply reciprocating his actions without any signs of hesitation.

"You did amazing, by the way."

When the moment those words left from your lips, it managed to pull him out of his own reverie; pulling away slightly just so he can face you with an evident grin upon his sharp features.

"Thanks, sweetheart."

"I was thinking of doing a mini celebration tonight."

"Oh?" You returned the expression that he's currently giving you. "Am I invited, then?"

He nodded almost instantly with a warm chuckle out of him, ruffling your hair despite your possible incoming protests.

"Of course you're invited, silly girl. Always will."

"You'd make everything more fun, and you're the only one who knows how to keep this bad boy in check, after all."

You merely and purposedly snorted out loud upon his words— rolling your eyes comically before pinching his cheeks all of a sudden, which caught him off guard.

"Not so bad when I do it to you like this."

"Okay— hey hey, stop that-!" He begins to sputter out complaints due to your actions, pouting as you didn't even try to stop from doing so. His hands are not helping anything either, which makes the situation more funnier than intended.

Despite everything he did, Kenji almost looked like a whiny puppy within your perspective.

It doesn't take long before the both of you ended up, quite literally, falling off from your seats though.

"Ouch.."

"It's your fault, geez.."

"Well, I love you too."

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[astralnymphh]

how do you think ellie would scold a child? not necessarily scolding but like yk?🗣️🗣️ maybe like your toddler had been acting a little bratty and wasn’t listening

i’m crying i need to have children with her

♡♱— god i love writing for domestic!ellie best trope out there, but anywho, i think ellie is quite gentle and honestly more playful if anything. do you remember how she spoke to the sheep while she was rounding them up? that's her tone. a drawled series of "come onnnn.."'s and succinct "hey."'s, both tuned of composure; a soft agenda. bent at the hips and crooked at the knees, pillared arms relying all upper weight upon said knees, a dangling ray of copper slipped from it's loose ear-tuck (most notable thing, duh) streaking across halcyon features as she spoke. and born from her sweet consoling, was a silent cherub partial to the softness and entertainment that those cottony words offered; "hm? whaddaya' say? think i could go for some old-fashioned dress up." definitely has some sort of bribing system in-hand though, which isn't ideal, and you scold her for it. innumerably, you've strolled into your child's room after a tiresome argument with a wobbling toddling toddler who only replied in intelligible babbles that may have resembled a word yet didn't really concoct the coherent likeness of one— to find that damned auburnhead engaging some past-bedtime playtime, "oh? you want me to be the princess this time? okay okay, since i don't mind.." crossing your arms and tutting obnoxiously enough to perk the ears of your indulgent wife, clad in a plastic and rhinestone tiara.

"i mean.. she stopped.. awkwardly punching me in the knee, and i get to be a princess. that's a win, right?"

MASTERLIST . DAILY CLICK . READ THIS . PALESTINE MP

[slitsfordan]

DanandPhilCrafts + Fucked Up Queer Devotion + Christian Homophobia: An Essay

We’ve all been talking about the willingness of Dan and Phil to perform the ritual, we’ve all been talking about the intimacy of carving out your lover’s heart, but I have not heard anyone talk about the fucked up side of Dan and Phil’s (fictional) relationship with each other, and with Him, so here goes.

On the craft channel, Dan and Phil act overwhelmingly positive, like satanic children’s show hosts, but this is clearly a farce. We see them drop their smiles quite a few times during the crafting- most notably in Glitter Faces when Dan’s craft turns out wrong, and when Phil cuts Dan’s hand. “Don’t cry, craft” is directed towards the audience, but it seems Dan and Phil are following their own advice. Cults, after all, prey on vulnerable people. While they do seem scared of doing the ritual, and their involvement with Him, they are, however, definitely willing. In

The blood on Dan after he kills Phil is interesting; The handprint on his shirt isn’t a sign of a struggle, but rather Phil just grabbing his shirt- that’s pretty intimate, honestly. The blood on his face could’ve been caused by a bunch of things: blood splatter he wiped at? wiping at his face (eyes?) with a bloody hand? or Phil holding his face? (I like the third option) The blood on his nose might totally have been accidental, and just a thing that happened, but it could also be an allusion to the cat whiskers, in the spirit of bringing things back to the beginning and whatnot.

After the ritual is complete, there’s the obvious tarot symbolism. @freckliedan has a great post about this, but I’ve got more to add, so bear with me. Yes, Dan and Phil are framed as the lovers, but that’s not all. While the sexual deviance associated with the devil card has clear connections to queerness, it’s main association is usually unhealthy relationships and dependence. From this, and the obvious devotion displayed in the video, the craft versions of Dan and Phil are implied to be unhealthily dependent on each other, and devoted to the point of obsession. While the relationship certainly isn’t abusive, this obsession just isn’t healthy.

Furthering the unhealthy relationship idea is when Phil calls Dan “Sampson”. In the Bible or whatever (I’m not Christian sue me) Sampson topples these pillars, killing both himself and his enemies, which has a clear parallel to Dan’s stacked ingredients falling over, but the use of “folly” is interesting, and suggests a further connection. Sampson had married a prostitute, and she sold him out, basically, leading to his enslavement and later death. In this story, this is the clearest and most obvious act of folly by Sampson: marrying someone who he shouldn’t have, someone who it was taboo for him to be with. Connected to Dan and Phil, it suggests that their relationship is dangerous due to the social taboo, but it’s also implied that Phil will betray Dan. Perhaps we’ll see that in a 5th crafts installment, or perhaps it’s simply a commentary on being in a relationship with someone considered unacceptable.

Speaking of unhealthy relationships, that’s sure what they’ve got with Him! Leading up to the ritual, Dan and Phil are shown to be scared of Him, even though they call Him their friend. Dan’s head shake when Phil says “crafting has improved my life in numerous ways” is very telling. At the end, Dan’s shoulders tense at His first footstep, however, when He actually touches Dan, he doesn’t seem scared at all- forgive me for this next point, but from the way he kinda leans into the touch and tilts his head back, it seems more like he’s going for “turned on” rather than “scared”.

“Okay, cool” you say, “but what does it mean?” Well, Dan and Phil’s relationship in this series is not just about homoerotic undertones- this is an allegory for toxic queer sexual relationships. Why would they make something about toxic relationships when they’re in a healthy relationship? With the toxicity, and the power imbalances, and the satanism, Dan and Phil’s (fictional) relationship is a representation of Christian fears of queerness, and the supposed immoral/corrupting/anti-Christian effects of being in a queer relationship. The fear Dan and Phil show throughout the series is representative of internalized homophobia. They’re scared to align themselves with Him because it means accepting their own queerness. Dan shows more fear than Phil throughout the series (like after his glitter face turns out to be a pentacle) which parallels his real world internalized homophobia that he’s experienced. By holding hands with the devil (or baphomet?) standing behind them, Dan and Phil have embodied every conservative fear about queerness, but have come out on top. Through their YouTube channel, we get to do the same.

[radiance1]

An off-shoot to an off-shoot!

Danny left the human world for the Ghost Zone, as the Crown Prince he has quite a lot of responsibilities, much more than he would like in all honesty.

He barely even knew there was a high society of the Ghost Zone, some of which he has met and others he's just questioning the existence of.

He was already tired of the amount of marriage proposals he was sent and had to sort through, and there was still 3 more mountains to go!

He was honestly looking forward to the calls from his two best friends when he was finally able to get a break from his duties as prince. Never has the sound of his friends' voices felt oh so sweet.

Sometimes he visits Sam when he managed to convince Pariah, or when there just wasn't any work to be done. He tried to visit Tucker too but, when he tried to leave Amity Park he just... couldn't???

There was something just, stopping him. He couldn't leave, like some kind of barrier that prevented from moving even smidge past the line.

He just left it be.

He heard about Tucker being a villain and decided he wanted in. But since he couldn't leave the boundary of Amity Park for whatever reason, he needed Tucker to plant a series of tidbits of knowledge that'll allow people to summon him.

Tucker very obviously agreed.

But they decided to have a bit of fun here. Tucker- who now goes by Daedalus as his villain name- has history with the Ghost Prince, who is the 'hero' to Daedalus' villain.

Daedalus does not like Phantom and constantly tries to neutralize him, which is a far cry from his usual non-lethal tactics. While Phantom, on the other hand, considers Daedalus to be his best friend and closest consort and often ignores said attempts of neutralization or plays it off.

So Tucker left behind bits and pieces of the knowledge to summon the Ghost Prince in random parts of the city, which are discreetly yet highly guarded. Then overtime certain people began to find those bits and pieces and Daedalus, in regard to such an event has notably gotten more panicky and worried.

With each and every sighting he's in he seemed to be searching for something and used the chaos he brought to search for it. To which the heroes have been taking notice of.

They think that he was searching for something to use for his next plan or something.

Then the Justice League got word of a group of cultists looking to summon the Ghost Prince to take over the mortal world, which they obviously couldn't let happen. So then they locate and find the group of cultists (and as usual in these ideas) they fail to stop the summoning in time.

But as the summoning circle was shinning and the room got colder, someone unexpected showed up.

Daedalus. (Imagen he's in the floaty chair thing that Eggman uses constantly)

Who, surprisingly. Is just a 16 year old. (This takes place in the second year of Sam's little isolation thing.)

Who then proceeded to get irritated and screamed at the cultists about how they managed to find the necessary components to summon that he specifically split into pieces to avoid this situation happening!

Then the Ghost Prince pops into existence, who then calmly looked around the room and then into the sky, his indifferent, cold expression faded away into a bright beaming expression and then went:

"Daedalus! My best buddy!"

And then had to dodge a blast from said villain. Then they proceeded to have a battle, quite- no, very lethal on Daedalus' part and not so much on the Ghost Prince's part.

It was... reminiscent of a dog and cat, really.

Until in the midst of said fight Phantom exclaimed his woes about the Ghost responsibilities and then Daedalus just kinda, stopped trying to kill him and then made Danny explain what problem he has and then gave him the solution to said problem and goes back to fighting.

The Justice League feels like they should intervene here, but they also don't know if they should.

Said problem was solved by Daedalus getting hungry and proposing to stop the fight to go and eat at a food place he knows that's very good. Phantom agrees, claiming that he hasn't had human food in ages and then they go and eat and forget about the Justice League.

Who then questioned why the Prince of Ghosts and the villain that a few of them has been fighting are literal children.

[basset-babe]

five times: the third.

pairing: benedict bridgerton x fem!reader

warnings: cursing, drinking, anger, disgust, hurtful words, self-doubt / sabotage

word count: 5.1k+

a/n: honestly felt like i bit more off than i can chew but i do relish a challenge! also, my apologies for the prolonged delay of my postings, dearests. life has been life-ing recently lol anywho, here is the ever-challenging third! opening with a whistledown aND y'all know what we do when gossip arrives, we gossip! ciao amo! (dates included do not mean anything nor is accurate to any timeline)

five times series: the first. the one point five. the second. the third. the three point five. the fourth . at last.

trees and skies banner from @cottage-writings, pattern banner from @cafekitsune thank you!

Lady Whistledown's Society Papers

March 25, 18XX

Dearest readers,

The season is in full swing, and the social whirl is abuzz with the latest happenings. None have captured our collective curiosity quite like the endless stream of callers at the Y/L/N residence, all vying for the favor of the season's paragon, Miss Y/N Y/L/N. With suitors from the finest families presenting gifts and performances, it is no surprise that Miss Y/L/N has been the object of much admiration.

However, keen observers might have noted a particular favorite among the throng. Yes, dear readers, the second Bridgerton son, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton, has made a notable impression on the lovely Miss Y/N. Their promenades and conversations have not gone unnoticed, with many speculating that he holds a special place in her affections. However, as ever in the delicate dance of courtship, it is not without its complications.

Whispers have reached this author's ears that Mr. Bridgerton has been seen in the company of Lady Tilley Arnold—a widow of the late Lord Arnold and esteemed patroness of the sciences. Their encounters, whispered about in the most fashionable circles, suggest more than mere friendship.

Do hold your gasps, for the intrigue does not end there. No, for as Lady Arnold bid adieu to the shadows and prepared to depart, a most shocking revelation transpired. Witnesses, whose lips dare not speak aloud but whose eyes betray their secrets, observed a clandestine exchange between the widow and Mr. Bridgerton— a kiss, dear readers, of the most scandalous variety! The timing, dear readers, is most curious as Lady Arnold was on the verge of departing London, which only adds to the enigma of this nocturnal visit.

What, pray tell, does this clandestine encounter signify, one might wonder? Is there more to the attention of Mr. Bridgerton, that his affections may be wavering, or has Lady Arnold, with her enigmatic charm, ensnared him in her web of intrigue? Such a late-night rendezvous, particularly with a lady of Lady Arnold's standing, is certain to raise eyebrows and incite much speculation.

The ton will surely surmise whether this encounter was a fleeting indiscretion or the beginning of a more complicated entanglement. What could this mean for Mr. Bridgerton and Miss Y/N? Will their courtship withstand the weight of this scandal, or will it crumble under the pressure of whispered gossip and innuendo? Can Miss Y/N overlook this transgression and hold fast to her affection for Mr. Bridgerton, or will she be swayed by the lure of a less tarnished suitor?

One thing is certain, dear reader: the social season has become infinitely more intriguing with this latest development. Rest assured, I will be watching with keen interest as the drama unfolds.

Yours Truly,

Lady Whistledown

third time.

"Good afternoon, sister," Benedict greeted Eloise, who was standing in the middle of the house's foyer with her hands conspicuously behind her back.

"Ah! Brother, afternoon," Eloise replied cautiously, attempting to hide the gossip sheet behind her gown skirts. "Where were you?" she asked, her tone tinged with curiosity.

"Nowhere of particular interest. What are you reading?" Benedict inquired, his eyes narrowing as he pointed to her hidden arm.

"Nothing," Eloise replied hastily, but Benedict knew better. He raised an eyebrow and extended his hand, motioning for her to hand over whatever she was concealing.

Eloise hesitated for a moment, then reluctantly produced the crumpled gossip sheet from behind her back, placing it in Benedict's outstretched hand. "Whistledown," she muttered, avoiding his gaze. "You are mentioned."

Benedict unfolded the paper and began to read. His typically affable expression turning stoic as he saw his own name linked with both Miss Y/N and Lady Tilley Arnold. His jaw tightened, and he placed the scandal sheet on the table. Eloise cleared her throat and asked. "How are you?"

"Quite the scandal, it seems," he remarked, his tone betraying a hint of indifference. "And here I thought I could keep my affairs private. What truly vexes me is not the content concerning myself, it's how she drags in the names of Miss Y/N and Lady Arnold, implying something as if curious but ruinous as she almost did you last season. Heavens be damned, if I ever discover her true identity, I will ensure it is her life that is ruined."

"The lady has declined visits... for today, Sir. I ask... kindly, that you leave the premises," the lady's maid informed as Benedict sat astride his horse, a sketchpad clutched tightly in his hand.

His heart sank at the lady's maid's words, a heavy weight settling in the pit of his stomach. He had ridden with fervent determination, his thoughts consumed by the desire to see Y/N, to seek solace in her presence after the scandalous sheet had been released. But now, faced with the reality of her refusal, he felt an overwhelming sense of restlessness wash over him.

He had hoped to find refuge in her company this late afternoon, to find comfort in the warmth of her smile and the gentleness of her touch. Yet, it seemed that even she was now beyond his reach, her doors closed to him in the wake of the damning gossip that had tainted his name.

"Could you try again, please?" Benedict implored, desperation lacing his words. "I just need to speak to her, to explain myself."

But the maid remained resolute, her expression unyielding, her features softened by a touch of sympathy for Benedict's plight. "I'm sorry, Sir," she repeated, her voice a gentle murmur, "but the lady's wishes are clear. I cannot go against her instructions."

Feeling the weight of disappointment settle upon him like a heavy cloak, Benedict offered a resigned nod to the maid, acknowledging her adherence to propriety even as his heart ached with longing. With a heavy sigh, he turned away from the imposing facade of Y/N's residence, his footsteps heavy with the burden of unspoken words and unresolved emotions.

As he urged the horse forward, the rhythmic beat of hoofbeats echoed through the quiet streets of London, a steady cadence that mirrored the tumultuous thoughts racing through Benedict's mind. With each passing moment, he felt the weight of the recent scandal pressing down upon him, its suffocating grip tightening with each breath he took. People who walked the pathways murmuring as he passed them. Almost as if they'd point and had been meaning to ask of the truth in the latest Whistledown.

But Benedict was not one to be deterred by adversity, nor to allow his spirits to be dampened by the trials of the heart. With a determined set to his jaw and a fire burning in his eyes, he urged his horse onward, his destination clear in his mind.

Arriving at the gentlemen's club, Benedict dismounted his horse with practiced grace, the cool night air stirring the tendrils of his hair as he strode purposefully towards the grand entrance. The club stood as a bastion of camaraderie and respite amidst the chaos of London society, its hallowed halls a sanctuary for men of wit and refinement.

He'd rode to the club where his brothers were spending the early evening. The ambiance was one of refined indulgence, with the soft glow of candlelight casting a warm hue over the rich mahogany furnishings and plush velvet upholstery. He found Anthony and Colin lounging in a corner, their laughter echoing through the room like the lively notes of a well-played sonata.

"Well, if it isn't our solemn Benedict," Anthony teased, clapping him on the back as he approached. His voice carried the joviality of a man accustomed to commanding attention, resonating amidst the club's genteel chatter.

Benedict managed a half-hearted chuckle, sinking into a nearby chair. His usually composed demeanor was tinged with a hint of melancholy, though he tried to play off his turmoil with a forced smile that did little to mask the weight of his troubles.

Colin, with his mischievous blue eyes and rakish grin, raised an eyebrow inquisitively. "Drama? Pray, do tell. Have you found yourself embroiled in a scandalous Whistledown-written affair, dear brother?" His tone was light, yet there lingered a genuine curiosity, as if he relished the prospect of a juicy tale.

Benedict rolled his eyes, though a flicker of amusement danced in their depths. "Nothing so melodramatic, I assure you," he quipped, his voice a melodious baritone that resonated with the refined elegance befitting a man of his stature. "Just a bit of trouble with a certain someone who shall remain nameless."

Anthony leaned forward, his interest piqued like a hound on the scent of a tantalizing mystery. "Ah, a mystery woman! Do tell us more. Is she a diamond of the first water? A rose amongst thorns? A season's paragon?" His knowing words were infused with a playful charm, his aristocratic features softened by the warmth of his smile.

Benedict couldn't help but laugh at his brother's theatrics, the sound echoing through the room like the pealing of church bells on a crisp autumn morning. "More like a thorn stuck on my rose, if you ask me," he replied wryly, his lips quirking into a rueful smile. "But alas, the sheet seems to have taken interest in me. Thus, I've offended the lady at my latest misstep."

Colin exchanged a knowing glance with Anthony, their eyes sparkling with mischief like stars in the night sky. "Ah, love can be a treacherous game, my dear brother," he remarked with a wistful sigh, his voice tinged with the bittersweet nostalgia of past dalliances.

With a resigned sigh, Benedict brough out the paper, his fingers trembling ever so slightly as he unfolded it to reveal the damning headlines. His eyes scanned the page again, each word striking like a blow to his already wounded pride.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" Anthony quipped, leaning in to peer over Benedict's shoulder with a devilish grin. "It seems our dear Benedict has captured the attention of Lady Whistledown herself. Tell me, is there any truth to this gossip?"

Benedict felt a flush of embarrassment creep up his neck as he struggled to find the words to explain himself, "There is a sliver of truth. Lady Arnold did visit, and yes, there was a kiss. But it was far from the scandalous affair Whistledown implies. We aren't anything but naught, I tell you." He answered at almost a whisper. Benedict knew that the contents of the scandal sheet would be the subject of much speculation and gossip, his reputation hanging precariously in the balance.

"And what of Miss Y/L/N, whom you are so ardently courting? How does she figure into this little drama?" Anthony asked, concerned of his brother's standing.

Benedict sighed, his concern evident as he expressed his worries to his brothers. "That is precisely my concern. I have been nothing but sincerity in my courtship of Miss Y/L/N. She deserves better than to be dragged into this mess."

Colin leaned forward, sensing the gravity of the situation. "So, what will you do? Surely you cannot let Whistledown's prattle jeopardize your relationship with Miss Y/N."

Benedict's expression phased into determination. "I intend to speak with Miss Y/N directly. She deserves to hear the truth from me, not the twisted version Whistledown has concocted. That if she allows an audience with me. And as for Lady Arnold, I shall ensure our interactions are far more circumspect if not, naught in all aspects she may bring up on me, when she does return and does whatever near."

Anthony nodded in agreement, his gaze softening with genuine affection as he clapped Benedict on the back. "Let us not dwell on the past now, brother, but instead focus on the future—on what you can do. Whatever Lady Whistledown may have to say, we shall weather the storm together, as we always have."

Colin, then, raised his glass, a gleam of mischief in his eyes as he played along with his brother's jest. "To no longer saving face, my dear Colin! For love, for honor, and for the sake of our brother's bruised ego!" His words were punctuated by a hearty laugh that resonated through the room like the rumble of thunder on a stormy night. This is going to be quite the arduous courtship.

The grand lobby of the Londinium Opera House was a scene of opulence and refinement, an exquisite embodiment of sophistication. As the setting sun cast a warm, golden glow through the tall, arched windows, the room seemed to shimmer with the promise of an enchanting evening ahead. The marble floors gleamed underfoot, polished to such perfection that they reflected the twinkling crystal chandeliers overhead. These chandeliers, with their countless prisms, scattered light like a thousand tiny stars, illuminating the elegant assembly below.

The air was a heady blend of perfumes and colognes, mingling with the faint, tantalizing scent of fresh flowers arranged in lavish bouquets atop mahogany tables. The flowers, a riot of colors and species, were chosen to reflect the season, adding a touch of nature’s beauty to the man-made splendor of the opera house.

"This is definitely too stuffy for my nose." Eloise brushed her finger by her nose as she and Benedict passed through a sea of dressed up ton amidst tonight's opera.

As the two navigated through the ton at the opera's lobby, their steps softened by the plush carpeting beneath them, Eloise couldn't help but wrinkle her nose discreetly once more. "I agree," Benedict murmured to Eloise, his voice barely audible over the gentle murmur of conversations and the distant strains of prelude music.

"It's like drowning in a sea of perfume and pomposity. How long will the show take?" Eloise asks.

Benedict chuckled softly, his eyes scanning the crowd with a bemused expression. "Indeed, it seems we've stumbled into a gathering of the city's most refined noses and airs. But I fear, it'd be almost four more hours but there must be a few souls yearning for a breath of fresh air."

Eloise grinned, her spirits lifting at Benedict's playful remark. "That'd probably be us, brother," she replied, her gaze sweeping the room in search of kindred spirits amidst the sea of finery. "But until then, I'd die of ennui from this whole bonanza of a show."

"Not if I escape it," Benedict remarked in jest as he wiggled his eyebrows at Eloise. "But, of course, I'm taking you with me."

"You are absolutely my favorite brother." And the two, laughing at their antics, sneaked out of the opera house where their carriage is waiting to flee the night.

The carriage ride through the moonlit streets of London was a serene affair, with only the rhythmic clip-clop of the horses' hooves and the soft creaking of the carriage wheels breaking the stillness of the night. Benedict sat in quiet contemplation, his gaze occasionally drifting to the window where the city's twinkling lights danced like distant stars against the dark canvas of the night sky. He had set upon to spend the night on the invite of a fellow painter, Lord Granville. The address card nestled in his pockets.

He knocked on the carriage roof and said, "We are to drop off Eloise at home first." Eloise shot her brother with a knowing look, "So, you do have plans for the night, Ben. Interesting." She nodded teasingly.

"What? Can't I spend my night on my own concurs?" He said, feigning defense on whatever his sister may be implying. The carriage stops and the footman opens the door. Eloise turns to her brother as she went down the carriage steps and says, "Amidst your Whistledown scrape, you seem to be taking this very light. Oh, to be a man this easy!"

Benedict shakes his head as he laughs at his sister's comment. He has been taking this all seriously, has he? It's not like he hasn't been doing amends. The gossip sheet only had been spread this morning. Surely, damages are still reversible? As the carriage turned out their street, Benedict's thoughts turned to the ramble of his mind. All his thoughts are loud of Y/N, her voice ringing in his head. He'd imagined their time in her garden. How she simply tells stories and facts of botany; or the time she'd nestled by the tree, her cheeks flushed with the lingering laughs they'd shared moments ago, and he couldn't help but smile at the thought of her. And as quickly as the smile drew on, it dissipated recalling that she had not allowed him audience this morning.

The carriage came to a gentle halt in front of a townhouse's doorstep, and Benedict stepped out onto the cobblestone path of 5th avenue, the cool night air washing over him like a soothing balm. He turned to the carriage driver, a silent acknowledgment passing between them before the driver urged the horses forward once more, disappearing into the darkness beyond.

Benedict delicately clutched the card bearing Lord Granville's prestigious name, ensuring he stood before the correct abode. With an air of refined assurance, he gently rapped the door knocker twice, whereupon Lord Granville himself promptly emerged to greet him.

Lord Granville, sporting a relaxed ensemble, greeted Benedict with a gracious nod, his demeanor exuding an aura of aristocratic charm. "Ah, Mr. Bridgerton, how delightful of you to join us," he intoned, his voice carrying a hint of cultured refinement. "Please, do come in. The evening promises to be most engaging."

With a gracious gesture, Lord Granville ushered Benedict into the dimly lit foyer, where the scent of beeswax candles mingled with the earthy aroma of oil paints. The sound of lively conversation and the occasional strumming of a lute drifted through the air, creating an atmosphere of artistic fervor.

As Benedict crossed the threshold, he felt a sense of excitement building within him, eager to immerse himself in the vibrant energy of the bohemian salon and the company of fellow artists and free spirits. Tonight promised to be a celebration of creativity and expression, a refuge from the stifling conventions of society, and Benedict couldn't wait to grasp his wash in of it.

The house was a riot of color and creativity, with tapestries adorned with vibrant hues lining the walls and eclectic artwork displayed on every available surface. Easels dotted the room, each showcasing works in progress, while clusters of artists and poets engaged in spirited discussions about philosophy, politics, and the latest artistic movements.

Benedict found himself swept up in the lively atmosphere, drawn to a group of painters huddled on their own canvases, their brushes dancing across the surface with frenetic energy. Where in the middle, nude women posed as muses and artist drew of their perspectives. Nearby, a poet recited verses of love and longing, his words weaving a tapestry of emotion that hung heavy in the air. Lord Granville now swept in his own circle.

In a secluded corner of the salon, hidden away from the prying eyes of the crowd, Benedict stumbled upon a private room adorned with tapestries of rich, jewel-toned hues and plush velvet cushions strewn about in haphazard arrangements. The flickering glow of candlelight cast dancing shadows across the walls, creating an atmosphere of intimacy and secrecy.

There, amidst the opulent surroundings, Benedict spotted Y/N, her laughter ringing out like a melody amidst the soft hum of conversation. She sat perched on a velvet chaise, a paintbrush in hand, her eyes alight with passion as she leaned over a canvas, her movements fluid and graceful.

Surrounded by fellow artists, including Lady Granville and Genevieve Delacroix, the ton's most favored seamstress, Y/N appeared completely at ease, her quick wit and sharp intellect evident as she engaged in spirited conversation, her laughter mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustle of paintbrushes.

As Benedict watched from the doorway, a pang of longing pierced his heart, the sight of Y/N's radiant smile and infectious energy stirring emotions he had long tried to suppress. He yearned to join her, to bask in her warmth and revel in the shared joy of creation, but the weight of their unresolved conflict hung heavy between them like a barrier, casting a shadow over their once vibrant connection.

Summoning his courage, Benedict stepped forward, his footsteps echoing softly against the polished floorboards. "Y/N," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, but before he could say another word, Lady Granville intercepted him, her gaze cold and calculating.

"Mr. Bridgerton," Madame Delacroix greeted with a disdainful tilt of her chin, her French slurred tone laced with thinly veiled contempt. "What brings you to our little gathering? Surely you don't expect to find yourself welcome here after what Whistledown's latest sheet has revealed."

Benedict's heart sank at the mention of Lady Whistledown's scandalous gossip, the weight of the accusations pressing down on him like a suffocating blanket. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice tinged with desperation, but Lady Granville merely raised an imperious eyebrow, her disdain palpable.

"Ladies, could you please give us the room," Y/N interjected firmly, her voice carrying a steely edge that brooked no argument. Madame Delacroix shot her a questioning look, to which the lady nodded reluctantly. With a series of subtle glances directed at Benedict, the women filed out of the room, their gazes lingering on him with thinly veiled curiosity.

As the door closed behind them, a heavy silence settled over the room, the air thick with tension and unspoken words. Y/N turned to face Benedict, her features hardened with a mixture of anger and hurt.

As Benedict and Y/N unexpectedly found themselves face to face amidst the opulent surroundings of the Granville party, the atmosphere seemed to crackle with tension, the air heavy with the weight of unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Y/N's eyes, usually warm and inviting, now bore a glint of guarded skepticism as she regarded Benedict, her gaze piercing through the facade of polite decorum.

The room seemed to shrink around them, the murmurs of conversation fading into a distant hum as they stood locked in a silent standoff, each grappling with their own tumultuous thoughts and feelings. The flickering glow of candlelight cast eerie shadows across their features, adding to the sense of unease that hung between them like a tangible force.

"Benedict," Y/N's voice broke through the suffocating silence, her tone edged with a hint of surprise and resentment, "What brings you here? I didn't expect to see you at this gathering."

Benedict's features tightened with unease, his eyes darting nervously as he struggled to find the right words. The grandeur of the room seemed to mock his discomfort, its lavish decor serving as a stark reminder of the gaping divide that had grown between them.

"I...I could ask you the same," Benedict replied tentatively, his voice betraying his inner turmoil. The weight of Y/N's gaze bore down on him like a heavy burden, and he shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

Y/N's lips formed a thin line, a flicker of frustration flashing in her eyes as she absorbed Benedict's response. The tension between them crackled in the air, suffusing the room with an almost palpable energy as they stood locked in a silent standoff.

"I am here with friends," Y/N explained tersely, her tone tinged with defensiveness. "I didn't anticipate running into...you."

Benedict felt a pang of remorse at the coldness in her tone, the realization of the pain he had caused her weighing heavily on his conscience. The warmth of the room seemed to dissipate, leaving behind a chilling emptiness that mirrored the growing distance between them.

"Y/N," he implored, his tone tinged with worry. "There's something I need to ask you. Why did you deny me an audience earlier this morning? I sought you out, but I was turned away without explanation. Please, Y/N, I need to understand."

Y/N paused in her tracks, her hand hovering over the couch arm as she hesitated. The weight of Benedict's words hung heavy in the air between them, the tension palpable as they stood on the precipice of an unspoken truth.

Slowly, Y/N turned to face him, her expression guarded as she met his gaze with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. "I couldn't face anyone— even you, Benedict," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "Not after... Whistledown that's happened. I needed time to gather my thoughts, to come to terms with the depth of my pain and my reputation."

Benedict's heart sank at her words, the realization of the pain he had caused her weighing heavily on his conscience. "Y/N, I had no idea," he murmured, his voice laced with regret. "If I had known, I would have respected your wishes. I never meant to add to your suffering."

"I know, Benedict," she firmly said, but her voice betraying her, tinged with sadness. "But some wounds run deeper than others, and time alone cannot heal them. I need space, time to find my own path forward."

"Y/N, please," Benedict pleaded, his voice tinged with desperation, "Let me explain. I never meant to—"

Y/N's eyes flashed with anger, her frustration boiling over as she confronted him with the pain he had caused. "Explain what, Benedict?" she demanded, her voice rising with each word. "Your absence? Your silence? Or perhaps the fact that I'm possibly nothing more than mere amusement to you, a prim and proper distraction from your rakish pursuits?"

Benedict recoiled at her words, the sting of her accusations piercing through his defenses like a dagger to his heart. "No, Y/N, you know that's not true," he protested, but she cut him off with a bitter laugh.

"Do I?" she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. "How can I be sure of anything when you've left me to face the whispers and the gossip alone? When you've abandoned me to doubt and humiliation?" Tears welled in Y/N's eyes as she spoke, the pain of betrayal etched deeply into her features.

Benedict felt the weight of her accusations like a sword to his heart, his chest tightening with the agony of her words. "Y/N, please, you must understand," he implored, his voice trembling with emotion. "I never intended for any of this to happen. My absence, my silence—it was never a reflection of how I feel about you. I've been grappling with my own inner turmoil, responsibilities and fears that have nothing to do with you."

Benedict's admission hung heavy in the air between them, his confession like a dagger to Y/N's heart. Her anger, fueled by betrayal and hurt, threatened to consume her as she struggled to process his words.

Y/N's eyes blazed with fury, her anger fueling her resolve as she confronted him head-on. "And what of the whispers about you and Lady Arnold?" she challenged, her voice dripping with scorn. "Are you telling me you had no part in fueling those rumors? That you never kissed her?"

Benedict recoiled at the accusation, the shame of his actions burning like a branding iron against his conscience. "No, Y/N, I swear it wasn't like that," he admitted, his voice laced with desperation. "There was a moment…" He paused, contemplating confession and it's consequences. He closed his eyes wincing at what he's about to say, "We did kiss, but it meant nothing. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment that I deeply regret."

"A mistake?" she repeated incredulously, her voice tinged with disbelief. "A lapse in judgment? Do you expect me to believe that, Benedict? Do you expect me to simply forgive and forget?"

Benedict's eyes pleaded with her, his desperation palpable as he reached out to grasp her hand. "Y/N, please, I know I've made a terrible mistake," he implored, his voice trembling with remorse. "But I swear to you, it meant nothing. I assure you, it was inconsequential. You are the one I am committed to, the one I wish to be with. Lady Arnold made advances, and I rejected them. It was a momentary lapse in which I failed to uphold my commitment to you."

Y/N's shoulders slumped with the weight of Benedict's words, her resolve crumbling beneath the weight of his confession. She sank down onto a nearby chair, her breath hitching as tears welled in her eyes, cascading down her cheeks in silent rivulets. With trembling hands, she buried her face in her palms, the anguish of betrayal and heartache washing over her in relentless waves.

The room seemed to blur around her, the vibrant colors of the decor fading into a haze as she struggled to come to terms with the devastation of Benedict's admission. His words echoed in her mind, each syllable a painful reminder of the trust that had been shattered beyond repair.

How could she believe him? How could she trust that his words held any semblance of truth when his actions had spoken so loudly against him? The image of Benedict with Lady Arnold haunted her, a specter of doubt and uncertainty that threatened to consume her from within.

But amidst the turmoil of her emotions, a glimmer of resolve flickered deep within Y/N's heart. She may have been broken, battered by the storm of betrayal, but she refused to let Benedict's actions define her worth. With a steadying breath, she lifted her head, her tear-stained cheeks glistening in the soft glow of candlelight.

"I thought you were different, Benedict," she whispered, her voice barely above a whisper, "But I... I don't know if I can forgive you. The pain you've caused runs deep, and I fear that trust may never be fully restored."

Benedict's heart shattered at the sight of Y/N's tears, his own anguish mirrored in her sorrowful expression. Without hesitation, he sank to his knees beside her, his hand reaching out tentatively to brush against her trembling shoulder.

"Y/N, please," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "I understand if you can't forgive me, if you can't find it in your heart to trust me again. But I swear to you, with every fiber of my being, I love you. I would give anything to make things right between us, to earn back your trust and your love."

His words hung in the air, a fragile plea borne of remorse and desperation. He longed to take her in his arms, to hold her close and shield her from the pain he had caused. But he knew that he had to respect her boundaries, to give her the space she needed to process her emotions and come to her own decision.

Y/N's shoulders trembled beneath his touch, her tears flowing unabated as she struggled to find the strength to meet his gaze. The weight of his words pressed down upon her, a bittersweet reminder of the love they had shared and the trust that had been so brutally betrayed.

For a moment, it seemed as though Y/N might succumb to Benedict's heartfelt plea. Her eyes softened, her resolve wavering in the face of his earnest confession. But then, with a trembling breath, she pulled away from his touch, her tears still glistening in the dim light of the room.

"I... I need some air," she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. Without another word, she stood abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor in a jarring echo of their fractured connection.

With a determined tilt of her chin, Y/N lifted the glass to her lips, downing the remaining contents in one swift motion. The bitter taste of the alcohol burned her throat, a sharp contrast to the ache in her heart as she turned away from Benedict, her steps heavy with the weight of her decision.

Benedict watched helplessly as she made her way to the door, his heart breaking with each retreating footfall. He longed to call out to her, to beg her to stay, but he knew that it was futile. The damage had been done, the rift between them too deep to bridge in a single moment of remorse.

As Y/N disappeared through the doorway, leaving him alone amidst the wreckage of their shattered relationship, Benedict felt a hollow emptiness settle in the pit of his stomach. He knew that he had lost her, perhaps forever, condemned to a lifetime of regret for the pain he had inflicted upon the woman he loved. And as he sank to the chair, his heart heavy with sorrow, he prayed for a chance at redemption, a glimmer of hope amidst the ruins of their once bright future.

taglist: @novausstuff // @pussyslayerhd // @amoosarte // @jupitervenusearthmars // @shonteriasunshine // @melsunshine // @bollzinurmouth // @kneelforloki

again, please do send me a message or comment down if you would like to be added on the succeeding taglists for the five times series! thanks loves <3!

[fatuismooches]

a lesson in happiness.

Kabukimono did not know the day of his creation.

It was already a sad thing, you thought, to not have been given a name at birth. Much less to not know the day you were first brought into this world. To not have a birthday. Though Kabukimono initially didn’t care, due to having no knowledge of the concepts of birthdays at first, seeing other villagers celebrate their own caused him to be excited about his birthday, and then be crushed by the realization that he didn’t have one.

He acted like it didn’t hurt him. But it did. And it hurt you too. Though, you had an idea.

January third. That was the day Katsuragi and the others found the puppet lying inside Shakkei Pavilion. It wasn’t his day of birth, but still an important day. A day when he was found. Seen. And you wanted Kabukimono to feel special, just like every human does, on a day of the year. So you devised a little plan. It wasn’t anything grand of course, no, you didn’t have the Mora for that. But to Kabukimono, he would probably think you may have just given him a five-star course anyway. You hadn’t told him about this yet, as you wanted it to be a surprise.

The first step was baking a cake, which wasn’t as simple as one would think.

Kabukimono was always open to trying new human foods, but surprisingly, he did not enjoy sweets. You’ll never forget the screwed-up expression on his face when you introduced him to dango. He tried to speak while eating it but it sounded all jumbled up because his teeth were stuck together. It was quite adorable.

So therefore, you had to make sure that the cake wasn’t too sweet and also tasted good at the same time. Admittedly, it wasn’t easy, and it took you a good amount of tries. Not to mention Kabukimono was constantly glued at your hip so it was hard to find time to do it so he wouldn’t find out about the surprise. But at last, you had done it. It was light, fluffy, and yummy, with not too much sugar so you hoped Kabukimono would find it delicious.

The second thing was to acquire a gift. It was hard to think of something to get your lover. It felt like, no matter what you gave him, it wouldn’t be enough. No matter how much it was (not that you had the money for that anyway.) But you had settled on something simple but pretty - you had commissioned someone in the village to produce a lovely, handmade comb for you. It was beautiful, sturdy and practical, and the best part it had your and Kabukimono’s initials carved into it with a plus sign.

Kabukimono always loved it when you brushed his hair. It had become a nightly and morning routine actually. Every night you’d brush out the knots that may have accumulated during the day. And in the morning you’d brush out any tangles he may have gotten in his sleep. You took care of his silky princessy hair better than your own. So you think he’d appreciate this comb especially, for when he had to brush his hair when you weren’t around. 

Regardless, you were set and prepared to make Kabukimono’s first birthday with you a success. The night before, you were trying to hide your giddiness, but it seemed like you weren’t the only one. Kabukimono kept looking at you with shy eyes, to which you smiled and came to hug him from behind, wrapping your arms around him.

“Something you want to say, love?” You asked, nuzzling your face into his neck. He blushed a little bit.

“I was just thinking a bit.”

“About? Perhaps little old me?”

“Yes,” he said honestly. “But also about tomorrow. It was the day I…” The puppet’s memory was always sharp, you noticed. Of course he wouldn’t forget about such a notable day.

“The day Katsuragi and the others found you,” you finished. “And the day I met you,” you softly pressed a kiss against his cheek. 

“You remembered!” Kabukimono beamed.

“Of course I did,” you chuckled. “How could I forget about the love of my life?” You squeezed him tighter and pulled him down, both of you falling together onto the futon as giggles filled the air. “I can’t believe it’s already been a year,” you sighed nostalgically. To think time would pass so fast.

“I remember it so clearly. Like it was yesterday…” The puppet drifted off as he buried his face in your chest. “So many things have happened since then. Sometimes I can’t believe it.”

“Me either,” you agreed, stroking his hair. “I’m quite happy to have been able to be with you for this long though.”

“Me too, [Name]! You’ve always made my days so much better,” he reached up to kiss your cheek and you grinned, cupping his face and pulling him in for another. Intimate moments like this were always lovely.

… But you knew for Kabukimono, this would eventually become nothing but a drop in the eternity that would stretch on endlessly for him.

—

It was Kabukimono’s birthday today.

That was the first thing you thought when you cracked your eyes open. You turned to face your lover and there he was, sleeping peacefully, snuggled into your shoulder. Stunning, as usual. For someone who didn’t need to sleep, he sure seemed to enjoy it. Though you hoped that today he’d stay asleep by himself for a while now. He always seemed to know when you left the futon and would soon follow you. So this time you placed a pillow for him to snuggle into instead. Hopefully, that’d keep him at bay for a bit until you finished baking the cake. You already knew the process like the back of your hand so it wouldn’t be too long.

… Unfortunately, Kabukimono was awake and pouting at you in the kitchen before you finished, the baked cake lying on the counter to cool while you had just finished whisking the icing.

“[Name], what are you doing up so early?” He whined, rubbing his eyes and sleepily making his way over to you. As he got closer he squinted at the stuff on the cupboard. “Are you making a cake? Is it someone’s birthday?”

Looks like the jig was up. “Yes, indeed. It’s for someone very important,” you hummed, as you began to spread the frosting over the layers of cake. Kabukimono blinked at you, trying to figure out who it could be. January third… January third. Not Niwa, nor Katsuragi… Kinjirou? No, not him either.

“Who?”

“You, silly.” There was a pause after your words as your lover stared at you blankly, processing your words.

“What? I-I don’t understand, [Name],” the puppet looked at you with a perplexed expression. You merely smiled back in response.

“A year ago today, when we all found you, you became part of this village’s family. You became irreplaceable to all of us. Especially me,” you uttered softly, looking straight into his eyes. “It may not have been the day you were brought into this world, but instead a day you were introduced to the world. A fitting day for a birthday, no? And I’d love to celebrate it with you… as long as it’s okay with you, dear.”

Kabukimono was stunned into near silence. “Is that… really possible? Can I really do that?”

“Of course you can. There are no rules.” Within seconds, a large smile appeared on Kabukimono’s face.

“January third… my birthday. My birthday! I actually have one now!” He looked so joyful, that it would make anyone smile. The puppet felt as though he was a little bit more human now.

“Indeed you do! Now, go get ready. We’re going out soon. There’s a really pretty spot I want to take you.” At this point, Kabukimono was practically jumping in excitement.

“Thank you so much [Name]! I love you so much!” He threw his hands around you quickly and then released you to go off and get changed.

“Love you… too.” Before you could even finish your sentence he was already out of the room. You couldn’t help but chuckle to yourself as you retrieved a basket to place the cake and other small foods in.

Today was going to be an excellent day.

—

Kabukimono was too thrilled to walk at a normal pace, so the two of you were virtually running to the spot you had picked out. Thankfully the food was okay. Once the two of you had settled down at the scenic spot, the puppet marveled at the snacks and most importantly, the cake. It had been a hit with him, considering how he gobbled it down before you even finished your first slice. You made a mental note to make more non-sweet pastries for him. 

Not to mention how over the moon he was when you finally presented his gift, the comb. He couldn’t stop staring and fiddling with it, despite the fact there was really not much to see after a few minutes. Regardless, he asked you to comb his hair with it while he played with the finches and squirrels that had somehow shown up in his lap.

It really was a beautiful day, a birthday well celebrated. Now, it was going to be the evening time soon, so you two began to make it back to your home. Kabukimono wanted to cuddle in bed with you and read some stories. But when you arrived, you had one more surprise for your lover.

“There’s one last thing for you.”

“There’s even more?” Kabukimono looked at you with pure awe and adoration, making your heart squeeze.

“Yup! Though this one… it’s something for both of us, kind of. You’ll see. Wait here!” And with that you were running off, leaving the puppet confused and intrigued. But in no time you were back, carrying something.

It was… a tree? With the bottom of it contained in a bag with soil.

“[Name], you got us a tree?”

“Not just any tree, love. A Lavender Melon tree,” you grinned, setting the plant down with a huff. “You know what that means?”

“… We’re going to grow our own Lavender Melons!” The boy launched himself at you and you almost toppled over, but you gladly accepted his affection. “Oh but, how do we take care of it? I’ve never done something like this before!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it step by step. It’s not easy, but it’ll be rewarding and fun! Here, would you help me plant it now?” The puppet eagerly agreed and you two got to work finding a nice spot for your new tree and shoveling the ground (which Kabukimono insisted on doing himself despite it being his birthday.) Soon enough, the fruit tree was tucked firmly into the ground and watered. Kabukimono looked rather proud.

“I’ve never seen a tree this short. So this is how they look before they’re all grown up.” 

“This one isn’t even that tiny. I’ve seen saplings much smaller. Though, maybe if you sing to it, it’ll grow faster.”

“Really? Is that true?!” Kabukimono was now staring at you with wide, impressed eyes. Before you could even respond, he spoke again. “Well, I’ll sing as much as it wants every day.” Your eyes softened at his declaration. You couldn’t wait to hear that.

“But [Name], how long will it take to bear some Lavender Melons?”

“Well, it’s going to be a long journey. We might see some in a few years from now.”

“Oh, that isn’t too far away! How juicy do you think our melons will be? I can’t wait!”

Your heart felt a prick of pain at his words. A few years, a blink of an eye for Kabukimono, but ages for you. His perception of time was so different from yours, the more time you spent with him, the more it hurt you badly to think of how it would scar him in the future.

“But [Name], why did you get this tree in the first place? We can always buy Lavender Melons from the market.” His innocent voice snapped you out of your thoughts. Today was a happy day for both of you. It was rude to think such things today of all days.

“You’re right, we can. But I just thought it would be nice to raise something together.”

“Raise something?”

“Yes. Human life is beautiful, but so is the life of nature, animals, and things around us. It’s a nice feeling to be able to nourish and take care of something. Perhaps later on we can get a cat too. What do you think?” You expected a response but you received nothing.

“Kabuki-” You froze mid-sentence when you saw your lover’s face.

Kabukimono was crying.

“Oh Kabukimono, what’s wrong?” You immediately went to embrace and comfort him. “You can talk to me.” The only problem was that Kabukimono himself did not know where these tears came from. This whole day had been so incredible and joyous, so why was he crying?

The only experience he had with tears were moments when it felt like his chest had been pierced and left with a gaping hole. When he was abandoned. When he sat alone in Shakkei Pavilion, his whole body ached as he believed himself to be tossed out like trash. So why…? Why was he crying when you were being so kind to him…?

“I- I don’t know,” he croaked. “It just came out of nowhere,” he wept into your chest. You were silent for a bit, stroking his hair before you spoke.

“Tears are not only a sign of sadness, Kabukimono. They are also for anger, surprise, jealousy, fear… but most importantly, happiness. If I may take a little guess here… you are feeling so much happiness, you became a bit overwhelmed,” you gently explained, wiping his tears with your fingers and sleeves. Kabukimono looked at you with teary eyes. “Am I right, love?”

The puppet looked down, contemplating your words and trying to understand his own emotions. You were right. Though there was a tinge of sadness in his chest, all he could think about was how grateful he was to have you. His light, his support. The one who gave him a second chance after he thought he was useless, the one who gave him worth and meaning to himself and this world.

“Happy birthday, Kabukimono. May we spend many more together.”

The puppet’s heart felt oddly at ease at your words, and he slowly nodded as he enjoyed the homely warmth your embrace provided.

He thought you would be right.

lesson 1. lesson 2. lesson 3. lesson 4. lesson 5. lesson 6. lesson 7. lesson 8. lesson 9. lesson 10. bonus lesson.

[impyssadobsessions]

DPXDC Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse "Excerpts" (Part 1?) I have more Ideas

Okay I kepy thinking about the prompt Enemy of my Enemy is the Worse I made LOL- (gonna post excerpts.) Probably wont fully write this.. as much as I like to right now LOL. If this inspires anyone to write, go for it.

"So now what? Going to vivisect me? Experiment? Rip my molecules apart like how my-Mr. Fenton keeps telling me." "Unfortunately, no." Agent K grumbles. "And its dissection, not-" Agent O tries to correct. "I maybe dead-but I'm not THAT dead." Danny rolled his eyes, flashing them at the two men in white. He can't believe any of this is happening. Oh he wished he listened to Jazz.. or Sam or Tuck more. He pulled at his ghost proof bindings, them having him ridiculously buried in the restraints. "Actually, Mr. Phantom, is it? I wanted to talk." Another bald man walks in, his suit notably black. Danny raised his eyebrow unimpressed, "What? Is it the Guys in Black and White now? Not that I'm against it, I'm all for equality, but it does seem a little off brand. I'm guessing the bleach bill is getting too high." Agent O was about to speak out- when the guy in black raised his hand to silence him. This guy only looked slightly amused, which gave Danny the creeps. "Of course not. That'd be ridiculous, though I'm not against inclusivity either. I'm Lex Luthor, and it is my recent interest in ghosts that had allowed the GIW to reach its full potential. " "So another annoying billionaire. Great."

"So you know of me? Perfect, then we can keep this simple. In truth, I am only interested in one ghost in particular." "We can capture him without involving ourselves with this scum-" "This GHOST has not only evaded my notice for YEARS, but has been stealing very valuable technology that would go beyond NASA's comprehension. Though I don't doubt your expertise, it has not come without notice that this particular ghost is seen the most-" Lex flicked his eyes down at Phantom. "With you." Agent K and O unrolled paper from their suits to reveal a picture of Plasmius. "The Wisconsin Ghost." - "Plasmius?!" Danny spoke same time the Agents did. Lex smirked at the Agents then down at Phantom. Danny took a moment to register what was going on before busting out laughing. "Really? What makes you think I'm buddy buddy with Plasmius? He's a total fruitloop and honestly- not surprise. He steals blueprints from my p---Dr. Fentons all the time." "You steal their items as well, if we recall." Agent K raised a brow. "Well-I- Just because- YOU USE THEIR BLUEPRINTS TOO!" "Enough. " Lex starting to sound annoyed, Danny felt like it was a win. Serves bastard right. Man did he hate billionaires. "I've observed your work in Amity Park. If I dare say you are quite similar to many of the masked vigilantes that plague this Earth. Even more heroic in my opinion." Danny was not biting at whatever trick Lex was pulling. Though he didn't miss the skip of his core at being recognized something other than a menace. 'He's lying to you.' he repeated in his head. Pulling on his bindings again to remember the real situation before him.

"That being said, I like you to do as heroes do and capture this criminal, then bring him to me." "Look, thanks for the compliment- but we both know I'm not seen as a hero. So why don't you quit the buttering 'cause I'm not interested in culinary and tell me what's in it for me. Even though I'm barely c-average on the best of days, I'm not dumb. I'm not doing this for free or just some lame you will be spared nonsense. Been there done that." Lex smirked again, "I'll grant you immunity from GIW and you can have your haunt back." "Wait? What?!" "But it took so long to capture him-" "IF you manage to capture Plasmius and bring him to me before GIW can." Danny glanced at the two agents as they puffed out their chests. Cocky. They really think they could capture Vlad? Then painfully reminded himself that they did catch him. "And if I don't agree?" "We DISSECT you and use you for very unethical and highly painful experiments that are legal on subjects like yourself." Agent K happily boast. "Riiiight." Danny clicked his tongue, "Add in that these guys are not allowed to be in a 50 miles radius from Amity and I'll do it." "No-" "Deal."

------------------------------------

Danny looped on back to the entryway as he finished swooping through every room of the manor. "Alright! Come on out Fruitloop! I know you're still here-" Just as Phantom floated down to land, he felt a hard punch in his face that sent him skidding across the room into the wall. "OOF" "Guess I should have seen that com...ming..." Danny rubbed his jaw, turning back to see who punched him. His eyes widening as he recognized the heroes he was facing. "Phantom. We're taking you into custody." "YOU CALLED THE JUSTICE LEAGUE ON ME?!" -----(Fight happens)--- Flash manages to hold Phantom, using his speeding molecules to keep Phantom from phasing through his grip. Danny gritting his teeth as the other heroes ready to capture him. Fine. If he can't phase through, he'll just phase in. Phantom uses his icy breath to freeze everything around them. Superman quickly uses his laser vision to melt the ice covering the room in mist, trying to keep themselves from being frozen. "Flash!" When the mist cleared the was no sign of him. Superman using his hearing to try and locate him- despite guarding his right side, he was kicked into the wall by Flash. Flash's eyes glowing bright green. "Well this is weird." -Proceeds to fight in Flash's body for a moment, until he gets knocked out of it. Danny's on his last legs, thinking he barely done a number on them (Not realizing he had been giving them quite a fight). Danny tries to reason again only to hear Amity Park doing great since GIW involvement. Still he isn't backing down. Even mentions Lex is backing them. He knows its only temporary peace if its really peace at all. Which he suspects is a big farce. Besides the portal still resides in Amity. GIW can't get a hold of that- portal. If he can't make them hear him out, then he'll show them why Vlad isn't just some victim. (Not realizing what Justice League may have already discovered) "Want to know why the number 2 worse billionaire is after Fruitloop?" standing up as the net placed on him burned and electrified him. It hurt so much, but he wasn't ready to quit now. Superman flew out in front of the others to block Phantom as Phantom tackled him. Phantom just uses rest of his strength to crash Superman through layers of floors til they reached the secret lab. Superman flinging Phantom into the other side of the room just as they landed, making him slam into a green tube, shattering it. The netting having dropped to the ground away from him. He coughed, shaking as a white ring dangerously popped around his waist shakily dancing, until Phantom sucked it back in. Not yet. The green ectoplasm from the tube soaking into his skin. His eyes widening as he saw what the green ectoplasm was from, jumping back with a disgust yell. He watched the clone fizzle out. "ALREADY? Really Vlad?" He shook off the creeps. "What is this?" "A Lab, du-UAHHHHHHH-" He found himself being spun around by Flash, and flung into the air where he was lassoed. Wonder Woman yanked on the rope tight, swinging him down into the opposite wall. He really was tired of being walled by them. Batman was quick to cuff him as Superman froze him in place. Danny raised a tired brow, unamused. "Are we chill now?" "No." "Thought so." ---bit more talking. Danny navigating his way through the truth of the lasso before using his wail as his last ditch effort to escape. Manages to escape through the portal as the lab collapses.

[thestargayzingheroine]

Why A Better World is my favourite "Evil Superman" Story

So in the last two decades or so, there's been a notable amount of dark and edgy stories around superheroes turning evil and whatnot and most of them really love to do their own expies of Superman. I've never been the biggest fans of these kinds of stories.

And then there's the actual stories of Superman and other heroes being outright villains or at least just massive assholes. In recent years, this has been largely thanks to the influence of media like the Injustice Games or the Synderverse DC movies. It's... honestly become a trope I am tired of.

Because you know the damnest thing? There is a story that does all these ideas really damn well and arguably better. It is the two-parter from the Justice League cartoon "A Better World".

Now, I am aware how most people favouring the DCAU has become a bit of toxic nostalgia at times and it's something I myself am trying to work through a bit. But in this case, I do think it's the best idea of doing an evil DC story, much better and more interesting than the Crime Syndicate, who if you ask me are not very interesting, though I do remember liking the Crisis On Two Earths movie a lot, which funny enough, was originally going to be this two parter before various things led to it being canned and then later repurposed as a direct to DVD movie.

Anyway, my main crux of why I love this story is simple... The entire Justice League turns evil... and the reasons are very much in-character for all of them. You look at the scene with Justice Lord Batman for example.

As fucking evil as the Justice Lords are... Batman can't quite fully hate his alternate self for his reason for taking part in all this being basically one-step further than his own mission, that no child should ever go through what he did. Hell, I recall reading that the reason the writers had Batman drop his batarang at the end of this scene... was because he genuinely wouldn't be able to come up with an argument to that.

Superman likewise kills Lex Luthor because yeah, Luthor literally exploited the flaws in Democracy and became president of the US, threatening to kinda basically start world war 3. It's obviously horrible... but Superman is a character whose main motivation is making the world a better place. And if people who abuse the systems of power of the world are hurting people, why shouldn't Superman put a stop to that?

And yeah, Superman should obviously never kill, he's the most paragon of paragons of the DC universe, a man committed to always being better than the villains he fights... but this is him pushed to his most logical extreme. Hell, the main Superman knows this and its why Lex used his knowledge of this alternate universe as part of his plan in the season after this, to goad our Superman into crossing the line because yeah, there's a part of him that could go this far.

But right as Superman is about to apparently finish him, the big guy says this.

"I'm not the man who killed President Luthor. I wish to heaven that I were but I'm not."

Because Superman like everyone else, obviously would have those same thoughts and same urges. He's human.

I've kinda gone off Injustice a bit because to be honest... the injustice games were kinda just this but a bit too edgelordy. Hell, in A Better World, Lois Lane still lives and the whole genesis of it doesn't revolve around her getting fridged.

So yeah, A Better World is probably one of my favourite mirror universe stories because of the fact that well... it really is like looking in a mirror and seeing just how easy the greatest heroes can become evil and how they wouldn't be massively out of character doing so. But also it reminds us that as much as this darkness can tempt some of our finest, the ones who don't go down this dark path are stronger in heart than anyone else. Because when the world becomes a dark and horrible place, it becomes very easy to be just as dark. But even though it can be hard to still try and be a good person even in dark times, it's ultimately worth it. Because good always triumphs over evil.

[fumifooms]

Laios Touden and autism; admiring the non-human

Do you think people exaggerate when they scream about Laios being autistic? Do you feel like it’s weird that so many people including autistics are so set on Laios, the problematic (but incredible and kind) king TM, being the most autistic that has ever autisticed? Why do we cheer on autistic people wanting to be monsters?? Isn’t that weird?

Well, of course it depends on the way it’s done, it can be done quite offensively, but long story short Kui blew it out of the park. The thing is, autistic people really do like monsters and animals and robots. Nonhuman does not mean subhuman, it just means Other. Feeling a connection with them has been shown to be an extremely common autistic experience for that very reason.

Because some people don’t understand why we autistic Tumblr Laios stans cheer “autism! Autism!” whenever he talks about monsters and feeling alienated to humans so! Here’s a post about how yes even research papers are analyzing the special connection we form with animals. I’m not even joking but Laios Touden & the mass cries of relatability with autistic people he gets and all the love for him could be used as study material and evidence for future papers because the link is that strong. Oh also I think it’s notable that being autistic and undiagnosed vs diagnosed makes a huge difference. In my experience as someone who was undiagnosed up until 18, it’s even more alienating to not know that there’s a reason why you’re different, being gaslit that you’re ‘normal’ and you just need to try harder and get with the program, etc. Personally when getting diagnosed I went through the 5 stages of grief because the thought of having been fundamentally different all your life (a difference which you will never be able to change) and mistreated for it when you weren’t “wrong” all along makes you unload all the anger and sadness and loneliness and sheer trauma you’ve built up over time. Like it’s world shattering.

So! Back to seeing dogs as family. Also I implore you to value experiential evidence when it comes to autism and other neurodivergences because brains are complicated and neurotypicals not being able to understand us well even with scientific research is like, a whole thing even though we’re right there speaking about how we feel and being right every time because the topic is literally us and how we experience the world. 

Disclaimer for this whole post that, of course, no group is a monolith and everyone has different experiences or can diverge from the norm of the group, and that doesn’t diminish the validity of either side! Like, I know autistic people who have trauma with dogs and hate them. But, trends do happen, and in this case... Autism is very “My experiences with humans make me feel dehumanized in a bad and lonely way so instead I’ll dehumanize myself in a good and inspiring way”.

“I was treated like a failed human my entire life and you’re surprised that my response was to become a dog.” -Patricia Taxxon

It’s literally well recorded that autistic people relate to animals more than humans globally. With this post, besides spreading autistic Laios truthism and explaining why the portrayal hits so deep for so many,  I want to show in what way this is a very specific experience and not looking at his character through an autistic lense really misses a lot of why he’s everything that he is. (Tacking allegedly onto here for legal reasons, different interpretations are valid etc etc /gen). This honestly isn’t super long though.

To define an important term, anthropomorphism in the studies and in this post means to attribute human traits to the nonhuman, which not only includes anthro furry designs but also animals irl, inanimate objects, and animated media as opposed to live action, to humanize them and empathize with them.

Paper: https://www.liebertpub.com/doi/10.1089/aut.2019.0027 

“Dogs taught me how to hunt and socialize and work in groups”, Laios having internalized body language... So real so real. I, too, make a great dog impression. And I want to emphase the part that it helps greatly develop a sense of emotions and relationships! For Laios, he didn’t get along with kids his age, it was him, Falin and the dogs against the world. Since it’s a group of dogs too, it taught him group dynamics and social hierarchies (like with Falin being considered as being below the dogs in authority according to the dogs rip), and the importance of group coordination when hunting.

For me, I cannot like, concisely explain just how much animals were important to me developmentally. I also grew up with dogs, but like I vividly remember encounters with like hamsters as well just radically shaping my understanding of boundaries, the importance of giving something space and the way you interact with them and respect their side of it. Unlike humans they don’t really mask how they feel, it’s direct cause-effect reaction and data gathering. There are no words involved, so the focus on having a perfect phrasing and tone is gone, leaving just pure interactions. 

There’s also no reason to mask how you feel either, and you don’t have to feel silly over wanting to form a connection and it showing, what, is the dog gonna laugh at you because you obviously want to make friends with it? Toshiro or Kabru might, but dogs and cats will just tell you to fuck off and leave it there worst case scenario. I often say that I think one reason Marcille is special to Laios and he feels comfortable around her is because she emotes INTENSELY, she gestures, she puts her whole body into it, her facial expressions are pretty exaggerated and her ears even emote too- like with a dog’s ears!

I think there’s def also things to be said about how he gravitated towards Izutsumi at first, all excited, was eager to sleep in the same bed as her, but in the Izutsumi sleep rating chart we see they really just casual and chill so it’s not a Laios talking to Shuro deep into the night situation just a “I like sleeping besides animals” situation and that is enough to hype him up. I love how he pet her in the extra about why Chil let her sleep with him too. He’s just so transparently eager to befriend her, even if in the end they weren’t all that compatible and he accepted that.

There are honestly so many examples I could give for this. Like Grandin the famous cow lady.

More about autism & empathy:

https://www.spectrumnews.org/news/double-empathy-explained/ (Also mentions a study in which groups of autistic, allistic then a mixed group played a game of telephone and both singular groups had similar levels of information retention, but the mixed group was significantly worse. As an autistic person yeah duh, obviously autistic people are different from one another and can have plenty of interpersonal issues, but communicating with other neurodivergent people feels pretty intuitive and straightforward and comfortable. One of the reasons why neurodivergent people tend to naturally gravitate towards each other I suppose.) 

^ Paper: https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC5932358/  For good, extensive summary of why we relate to animals so much you can go to the “anthromorphizing and asd” section of the paper. This paper extends to our widespread liking of cartoons and robots as well. Ok so this is a whole thing I won’t get into here but this is a big reason why a lot of autistic people are agender leaning as well. Genders and queerness in general is a lot about social constructs, and being queer is being marginal to these, not fitting into boxes or challenging those social norms and conventions. Queerplatonic relationships are a great example of this, where the framework of the relationship is platonic but the intangible nature of what it is exactly is the point, not familial not anything but everything at once too, just adoration, I like to say having pets is a bit like it as well, bc obvi it’s not romantic and often not fully familial, very platonic but also sooo much cuddling and adoration and kissing and whatnot that you wouldn’t typically do with a friend or family member. I’ll talk about qpr and labels another day though.

I got carried away but queerness in Dunmeshi is something I 100% want to make a big post on one day. Experiencing the world with different guidelines and not registering things to have the same boxes, sigh. Personally I also relate to Laios on a gender level, “cis by default because I don’t care all that much but if I were to dig deeper I’m probably otherkin and I want to be socially associated with traits of monsters and animalistic rather than man/woman” sighh hard to be a cryptid in this day and age. I wish we had a term like furry but for monsters, I want to be in the fantasy or folk tale genre ty, like changelings. Goshh changelings... You know, the irl myth where people said their neurodivergent kids were fairies’ children instead of human. Diminished physical sense of self means I see myself as some unknowable black  void aesthetic wise, but like in a way that simultaneously makes me feel seen. Like becoming a monster, losing your sense of self but also somehow just being simplified and seen for what you are, it’s weird to try and explain. This post is more about relating to the nonhuman than about seeing yourself as such, but like connect the dots right, that IS an important point of Laios’ character. It’s because our brains literally work different than allistics which makes us feel as other, but also because of social ostracization and functioning in a different way than society at large, living in the margin of society, being weird and non-conforming.

Meanwhile, animals and social norms... Like ok, showing your neck and rolling on the ground to show that you’re friendly and harmless and play biting might not be proper. But have you considered that it’s also fun and feels very intuitive. Play with a dog in the dog’s way I promise it is so nice and freeing. Play tug of war and growl back when they growl. Hiss at your cat to tell them they do something wrong, engage with them on their level.

Autism made social life hard, but it made animals easy. Do you have anyyy idea how good it feels to mask all day every day and feel constantly misunderstood or like you’re doing a performance but then you can just, drop all of that in the company of animals and they understand you. They understand you. You form an understanding and rapport so easily.

And this whole thing with Laios is so explicit too, with the Winged Lion saying “You’re sick and tired of the human world”. Notice the choice of words. Sick and tired of the human world. Exhausted from the constraints, sick of the mind games. It really isn’t as much about loving monsters as it is about loving the nonhuman. Relating to them because you feel that you can actually understand how they work and think, and feeling like they could understand you back as well. Animals are safe.

Like I could go on about how Laios admiring even just demi-humans like orcs is because they’re socially seen as non-humans more than any true physical thing, that they’re not bound by human society and its rules and live with their own lifestyle. But it would deal myself 1000 points of psychic damage and I am not ready to cry today. It’s idealization 100%, and like, Laios DOES want to be treated as human, to be valued, but it feels like an unreachable thing meanwhile becoming a monster is instant gratification and freedom and a sense that now no one will be able to hurt you in a way that reaches you, never again shall you be defenseless, and then if people dehumanize you then that only strengthens your sense of identity as a monster and UGHH ugh ugh.

And like. This post is a mess at this point but if you want to kinda delve into the more “why” then I recommend this Patricia Taxxon video essay. It starts out on a very different topic, but it’s all about autism and finding comfort in the inhuman. Long story short is othering made us like this also animals are just simpler to intuitively get along with.

So when I post this

I mean it. I really mean it when I say he’s me. I have never felt so seen. So many conflicting emotions all wrapped so concisely yet so intangibly woven into the whole storyline so subtly. 

Not being depicted as a monster of an human being for feeling/having felt that way?? The manga understands you. The world can understand you. Other humans can understand you. You can bond with them. You can. And I think that’s a big part of Dungeon Meshi too- Laios opening up to others about how he really is and his interests, and all the bumps on the way but how it was the only way to truly get to know each other and bond. With the climax being Laios confronting head on his complex with monsters and humans, and his monster-loving side and animalistic side being exactly what saves the whole world, what saves humanity. Because Laios does value his friends, does think humanity has beautiful sides to it, he wants to help it thrive and eat and become more accepting, carving out a kingdom for misfits and demi-humans. At the end of it, transforming into a monster and being free is a daydream fantasy, and the reality of it is that Laios does belong in the world as he is, and does receive and give out love.

If you enjoyed this you’ll probably like some of my other Laios analysis!  Here’s an analysis of his succubus and what it says about his relationships with other humans. And here’s an analysis about his relationship with Shuro from his perspective.

[toa-arania]

Gender is such a fascinating thing in Bionicle because objectively why is it there? Why do the biomechanical maintenance nanobots of a giant robot have gender? Or, more accurately, why do they have a gender binary? The gender binary as we understand it is (unfortunately) heavily linked to biological sex, something that MU bionicles don't have. The logical answer is that the Great Beings gave them gender to be reflective of their own society, where there are biological beings that reproduce biologically and have a gender binary that presumably sprouted from that, at least initially. However, despite giving them gender, they didn't give them any kind of sexual dimorphism, and for this we want to look at some of the non-matoran species and how they interact with gender.

The Vortixx are a society heavily stratified by gender - being 'male' or 'female' is more like a class system, with females as the upper class and males as the lower, working class. It's very reminiscent of the Orions from Star Trek. Additionally, we know that the species is not sexually dimorphic. Yes, the species that produced Dommy Mommy Roodaka, with her heels, ass, tits, and ponytail, is not sexually dimorphic. We see in one of the comics that a Vortixx confirmed to be male also just looks like that, and honestly we love that for him. He even has the rhotuka ripcord that kinda looks like a riding crop. We know that the Vortixx were created by Mata Nui rather than the Great Beings directly, so is it perhaps possible that because their perception of gender made no sense to apply to the MU inhabitants, Mata Nui compensated by having gender present itself in other ways?

Consider also the Skakdi, where the only thing we know (at least as far as I'm aware) about their relationship with gender is that there are female Skakdi, and that they are more violent and destructive than the males. We have never seen one, and we know so little to the point where I actually thought for a while that the Skakdi were a single-gender species. Like the non-GSR characters in Bionicle, they were given their elemental associations separately from their genders, and we've seen nothing to suggest that gender has any bearing on their society aside from disposition.

Then we come to the Matoran. For Matoran, gender is quite frankly fucking bizarre. The Av-Matoran were the first type to be made, and they are also the only type that can be more than one gender. The doylist explanation for that is so that they can blend into other Matoran types better, but that doesn't make any sense because those other types didn't exist yet. We do have a quote from Greg about gender in the Matoran, where it's stated to be a psychological difference rather than a physiological one, where the 'feminine' elements are calmer peacemakers, which is an absolutely fascinating quote because it's completely untrue. It might be true about the Ga-Matoran (with notable exceptions like Hahli), but it sure ain't true of the Vo-Matoran and Ce-Matoran, where our two primary examples are Chiara (electrocutes a lizard to make the point that females aren't gentle) and Varian (tortures Norik with nightmares for fun). There's also Orde but I genuinely have no idea what to do about him. He claims that he got all Ce-Matoran made into women to make them chiller and it clearly didn't fucking work so other than I guess the pitch of their voice there just isn't any observable difference.

What is demonstrably true is how general disposition does seem to vary between individual elements, and since Greg has confirmed that gender in Bionicle is a psychological variation that affects outlook and disposition, I honestly do not think it's a stretch to say that, at least for the Matoran, each of the fifteen elements is a separate gender. Honestly this even makes the elemental prefixes neopronouns, from a certain perspective. The Shadow Matoran are also fascinating to look at from this angle because they don't ordinarily exist; they're made from other kinds of matoran - the fifteen 'standard' genders if you will. They don't call themselves Kra-Matoran because they aren't a defined group, and they never think of themselves as one. They go back to what they were beforehand perfectly fine and at least act better off for it - with one exception. Gavla (the only female Av-Matoran we actually meet, who feels ostracised from her community) wanted to stay a Shadow Matoran, a kind of Matoran outside the standard concept of what elements they could be because she felt wrong as an Av-Matoran, and as a Shadow Matoran she felt more like herself. All this is to say:

Gavla Bionicle is Transgender and Non-Binary, have a nice day.

[robinsegghead]

Danny's Daycare Part 6

[Master List]

"I’m going to feel really bad about all of this if he doesn’t turn out to be evil.” Duke sighed.

          Tim hummed in acknowledgement, still buried in his work and completely enthralled and enraged by what he had found. Or rather, what he had not found. “He has to be something - there’s nothing about him! Daniel Nightingale does not exist! There’s no internet presence, no pictures, videos, nothing! Nobody who comes into that kind of money is just a… a…”

          “Ghost?” Duke asked as Tim snapped his fingers to remember the word.

          Pointing at Duke, he nodded enthusiastically. “Yes! That! He’s like a ghost or something- I don’t trust it!”

          Standing up, Duke moved away from the batcomputer and towards the exit. “Have you ever considered that maybe he’s just a nice guy doing a nice thing?” He paused, no response coming from Tim. “Of course not,” he muttered. “That would require seeing the good in literally anyone.”

~~~

            Sunday was much less exciting. Danny went to the store successfully, drank his coffee without spilling it on himself, fixed his coffee maker, and notably; didn’t kill anyone or run into any vigilantes. Which, thank Ancients, honestly. Danny was not here to play hero again, but he was self-aware enough to admit that if he somehow befriended the birds and bats that he’d let himself get dragged back into it.

            So he stayed inside. 

            Monday was also quiet. Twelve kids between Mia, Ember, and Danny wasn’t too bad but he did get lunch delivered for all three of them. The parents later that day brought news of Joker’s death which had apparently reached the public. The article said nothing about murder (although it was obviously speculated at) and neither Danny’s name nor his face were in the article. 

            He didn’t sleep that night.

            Tuesday wasn’t any busier than Monday, but it felt hectic, and Danny wrote a physical note to himself to hire more help. So far he’d gotten lucky, good workers wouldn’t just keep falling into his lap, he’d need to look for it. There was more speculation about the Joker’s death (there were even more parties) but Danny kept his nose out of it. Not his circus. Not his monkey’s. 

            Except it kind of was, and he’d killed the monkey.

            Wednesday was fine, Danny learned a bit more about the Joker through the constant barrage of news. It was through this barrage that he learned more about Duke’s past and its relation to the Joker. Feeling a bit like a creep, Danny found as much information as he could on the Thomas’s, where they were, how long they’d been there, and what had happened to them. It was… distressing to say the least.

            Danny contacted Frostbite about working on a Joker venom cure.

            Thursday wasn’t special. Danny both liked and hated how slow his days had been recently. No one had tried to mug him recently (which was fine albeit boring), with help at the daycare he didn’t find himself quite as exhausted at the end of the day, and sleep continued to evade him with the exception of small bouts that came on randomly and without care if he was laying down or not. Some would call it ‘passing out’, Danny called it power napping.

            He was just waking up from another one of his power naps, this one taken only a foot away from his couch, when his phone rang. The number wasn’t one he knew, but the area code was Gotham.

            “Hello?” He answered, stretching his stiff arms, and rubbing the sore spot on his head from where it hit the edge of the coffee table at the… beginning of his power nap.

            There was a shuffling on the other end of the line, then a groan, and finally, a response. “Danny...? It’s… Miguel. Listen I… I-” There was a choking sound followed by a wet cough and Danny realized this wasn’t exactly the call he’d been expecting. Slipping on his jacket and shoes and grabbing a first aid kit, he left his apartment.

            “Where are you?”

            “25 th and Mundson… I’m…” He let out a shuddery breath and Danny thought he heard sniffling. “It’s bad man.”

            Danny had already begun his flight from the moment Miguel had answered. It only took a couple of minutes, Danny spent the entire time speaking words of encouragement, instructing him on what to do. Miguel had been stabbed in the lower stomach and was losing blood fast. Upon arrival, Danny was grateful to see the kid still kicking, putting as much pressure on the wound as he could, just like Danny had said.

            “Hey, Miguel, how we doing?” He pulled the shirt away from his stomach and checked the wound. It was deep. 

            Miguel groaned, head falling back against the brick wall behind him.

            “None of that, kid, talk to me.” Danny pulled out wads of gauze and pressed them into the open wound trying to staunch the bleeding.

            Despite his request, Miguel didn’t manage to say anything, only letting out more sounds of pain every few seconds. Once he’d gotten the gauze wrapped tightly against his wound, Danny wound his arms around the boys’ frame and pulled him into his arms. 

            “Thompkins clinic is only a couple of blocks away.” He murmured, booking it down the sidewalk. 

            Miguel made his discomfort known as he loudly groaned and cried into Danny’s shoulder. Guilt tugged at the half dead king. He’d been in tough spots, but honestly? This was a first. He’d never held someone while they bled out except himself and he was sure he would have been happier going his whole life without. 

            As the building came into sight he felt the prickle of hope just under his skin, only to been diminished by Miguel’s breathing coming to a stop.

            “Come on, kid. Please.” He grit out, shoving through the door.

            The receptionist stood up quickly, fear being replaced by resolve. She moved immediately, opening the door to the actual clinic.

            “Doctor!” She shouted, as Danny shoved past her and laid Miguel on the table. 

            “He’s been stabbed. He called me eleven minutes ago, I applied pressure and wrapped it eight minutes ago, it’s deep.” He barely breathed, forcing the words out as fast as he could.

            Doctor Thompkins and her receptionist nurse worked quickly, pushing Danny out of the room and trying to save Miguel’s life. Sitting in the waiting room was excruciating. With his advanced hearing he could tell when the doctor pulled out the paddles, when she zapped Miguel (Danny wincing at the phantom ((ha)) feeling of electricity coursing through his own body), he could hear when she demanded the nurse for more medicine, to wipe the area, to hand her a tool, and he could hear it all knowing he couldn’t help.

            He’d come to Gotham to help people. And he couldn’t. He sat in the lobby, paralyzed, unable to help one of the few people he’d specifically offered his help to.

            When the door opened almost two hours later, the nurse offered him a small smile and nodding for him to go to the back. He didn’t waste a second, breezing by her and directly to the bed Miguel laid in, covered by a blanket, vitals stable.

            “He’s going to be okay.” Doctor Thompkins starts, looking over a clipboard. “It was pretty serious, his heart stopped three times and we had to bring him back. If this were any other kind of clinic I would have had him transferred to a hospital via an ambulance the moment you brought him in.” She said pointedly, there was no real bite in her words. “I’d like to at least keep him over night, make sure he’s okay before he goes galivanting around Crime Alley again.”

            Danny nodded. “Thank you.” He paused, staring at Miguel before turning back to the doctor. “Sorry, uh, I’m Danny. Danny Nightingale.” He held his hand out to shake, blood still caked under his fingernails no matter how many times he’d tried to scrub it away.

            She offered a small smile. “I’ve heard a great deal about you Mr. Nightingale. He looks a bit old to be yours though.” She gestured to Miguel.

            “Oh, no.” He chuckled. “We’ve only met a couple of times, but I gave him my number in case he was ever in trouble. It came in handy tonight.” 

            Nodding, the doctor looked back at her clipboard. “Do you know about family? Anyone we can contact?”

            He sighed, Miguel’s phone heavy in his pocket. “I grabbed his phone but… I know it’s just him and his little brother. I don’t know where the brother is, but I don’t want him out there all alone all night. He might come looking for his brother. I’ll see if I can find any information in his phone.”

            She nodded again, hesitantly before turning away. “I have a couple of things to work on, but you’re welcome to stay here for a while.”

~~~

           Tucker had found Miguel’s little brother’s information in the phone and Danny had set out immediately. He had no idea how Tucker had done it, there was no phone number for his brother, no home address, but Tucker just gave one of his ‘you won’t understand even if I dumb it down for you’ sighs and Danny didn’t question it.

            He’d felt bad about leaving Miguel, but Doctor Thompkins assured him the boy wouldn’t wake until the morning and it would be more dangerous for Santiago (Miguel’s little brother) to be alone all night. So he’d left.

            He didn’t like what he’d found. 

            An abandoned office building on the edge of Crime Alley. Not just abandoned, caved in, likely from a bomb, half the building was missing, there was no roof, most of the second floor had crumbled away leaving the first floor open to the dangers of the night.

            “Santiago?” Danny called cautiously. “My name is Danny; I know your brother.” He hoped Santiago was here. Please don’t let him be searching the streets for his brother. Miguel had said he was only thirteen. “Miguel’s hurt, I’ve come to take you to him.” 

            His senses flared and his body moved on instinct, dodging the long piece of wood that swung at his head. Rolling forward and springing back up, he spun around to face his attacker. His attacker being a little kid. He wore a worn-down jacket, the zipper was open and broken, there were holes in the t-shirt underneath, his jeans were shredded around the ankles and his toes poked through the shoes that were holding on by the shoelaces.

            Raising both hands in a surrender motion, Danny sighed. “Santiago?” The boy’s look was guarded, but fear was clearly underneath, and he nodded once, barely. “I met your brother the other night, my name’s Danny. Your brother got hurt and I took him to Thompkins clinic, I came to bring you to him so you wouldn’t worry about him all night.”

            The two-by-four lowered slowly but not all the way. “’E may’ve mentioned ya.” His voice was so quiet, barely a whisper.

            Danny nodded encouragingly. “I want to help you- both- if you’ll let me. But that’s not what I’m here for tonight. I didn’t want you to be alone or go searching for your brother, so I came to bring you to him. And then, at least while he’s healing, I’d like to help you guys out, if you’ll let me.”

            And with the look Santiago gave him, he was optimistic that he could wear them down.

~~~

          As he’d learned in the past six months, Danny wasn’t just the king of the infinite realms. No- he was the king of hasty decisions. He already owned the apartment building he lived in and he’d been fixing up the empty apartments, but without much thought (or asking Miguel and Santiago’s opinions) he went online and purchased all of the necessary furniture to house two boys and set the delivery for the next day.

          “Mr. Nightingale-” Miguel started.

          “Danny.”

           Miguel ignored him. “Mr. Nightingale, tha’s too much. We can’t accept this. Why would you even want us to move in?” His balled his fists in the hospital blanket. Doctor Thompkins had thankfully stepped out to give them some privacy. “What do you want from us?”

           “Listen, Miguel,” Danny rubbed a hand across his forehead. “I don’t WANT anything FROM you. I want you both to be safe. I want you both to go to school. And I want you to only worry about grades and socializing and other kid things.” He raised a hand calmingly as Miguel geared up to argue. “And I know you aren’t kids- you’ve been through too much to be considered kids, but you are young, and you deserve to feel safe.”

           The brothers looked between each other and Danny.

           “I don’t want to charge rent; I don’t want anything from you.” He repeated. “I want to help you, remember? That’s what I do. That’s what people like me are made for. Helping.”

           Santiago, in a rare show of childishness, climbed onto his brother’s bed and into his lap, whispering something in his ear. The two shared a pointed look, a telepathic conversation happening between them while Danny tried not to watch. Miguel sighed.

          “So… how would this work?”

          Danny leaned back in his chair, hoping he looked less intimidating like this. “I own the apartment building I live in. I’d like to give you two one of the apartments to live in, rent free, obviously. I’d like to tutor you both so you can get into a good school before next semester, we could do that on weekends and in evenings. I would also like you to leave your gang,” Miguel opened his mouth, but Danny pressed on. “I can offer you a job that will pay much better than any gang will.” Miguel’s mouth shut.

          The three sat in silence for a moment after that, Miguel thinking it all through. “Why us man?”

          The Halfa shrugged. “Why not? I can’t help everyone, but I can help you two. You’re just as deserving as anyone else is and I have the means.”

          “This ain’t some weird sugar daddy situation, is it?”

           Danny actually laughed at that. “No, Ancients no! I already told you what I want. And it’s not anything weird or creepy or gross. I just want to help.” I just want to protect.

           “Fine.” Miguel mutters. “But no creepy shit! An’ you ain’t my dad!”

           He nodded, grinning. “Agreed.”

~~~

            Danny insisted they stay at the clinic for another twenty-four hours, both so Miguel could recover a bit more before walking around and so he could get the apartment set up before their arrival.

            First he contacted Ember and begged her to work the whole day tomorrow and be responsible about it, then he called Mia and told her he had a family emergency and would be out the following day but that she could call if she needed and to keep Ember in line. 

            After that he called Jazz because that’s what he did when he did something crazy.

            “Danny?” She answered.

            “I did something hasty again.”

            She sighed. “What is it this time? A restaurant? A hotel? Tell me it isn’t Phantom rela-”

            “What? No! No it’s- you know how I bought my apartment building before moving here? Well… I just invited a couple of kids who need a safe place to stay to live in one of the apartments and I’m kind of freaking out.” 

            She hummed, neither approving nor disapproving, just signaling that she was listening.

            He phased into his apartment and threw his bloody jacket on top of the trash can. “I’m giving them an apartment on my floor, paying for their school, and tutoring them on the weekends. They’re good kids, they just need help.”

            “Danny.” She sighed. “You can’t help everyone.”

            “I know!” He snapped.

            Neither said anything for a moment, allowing their personal frustrations to subside before continuing. They didn’t fight often anymore, but when they did… it could get pretty explosive.

            “I know, Jazz.” He started again. “I can’t help everyone. I know that. But I can help them. Isn’t that why I’m here? To help?”

            She chuckled. “I can’t believe we ever didn’t know your obsession… Remember I wasn’t particularly excited about the daycare in the first place?” He knew, she’d thought he was crazy. But she’d gotten with the program and helped out immensely. “Look, you’re an adult, and more importantly, I trust you, just be careful okay? You’re always doing these crazy last-minute things and it worries me. You’re stretching yourself so thin.”

            “I know.”

            “I’ll call in a family emergency at work tomorrow and come help you out. What do you need from me?”

            And that’s why he always called her. He felt the tension release from his shoulders as he went through a mental checklist of tomorrows to do’s. The apartment needed to be cleaned, furniture needed to be moved in, groceries, clothes, and books needed to be procured after that, and they’d need phones.

            She agreed to show up at seven in the morning to start cleaning the apartment. He could go out and buy essentials while she did that and the furniture would likely be delivered in the early afternoon so they could start moving it all in. They didn’t want to stress the boys out with too much stuff, so Danny promised to keep it to the essentials.

            “Well, I’ve got to get up bright and early to help my kid brother with another crazy scheme, so I’ll be going.” The teasing in her voice was palpable. “I love you, brother.”

            “Love you too, sis.”

            It was nearing midnight when Danny finally ended his call with his sister and looked over the furniture set to be delivered the following day. Two mattresses and bed frames, a couch, a table and chair set, two desk with chairs, and a tv stand (no tv, he was worried how the boys would feel if it was obvious how much he’d spent. He’d get them a tv soon.). For an exorbitant price, it would all be delivered the following day by two in the afternoon.

            Danny took another power nap.

            This one was longer than most and he awoke with a start as sunlight poured into the apartment. Dragging a hand down his face, he stumbled towards the kitchen. When had he last eaten? Didn’t matter, he didn’t have much. He didn’t eat much these days. Not for lack of trying, he was just so busy.

            Opening his fridge (praying there was some fresh fruit or something he could grab quickly) he was shocked to find a container of what looked to be chicken parmesan and a sticky note attached to the lid. 

             Don’t know how a twig like you took out the Joker, eat something. -RH

            There was another container next to it with some kind of stew.

             Okay, not a fan of chicken parm? Fine, but eat the stew. -RH

             There was a third container next to that, some kind of steak and potatoes.

             Do you eat? I swear they aren’t poisoned. -RH

             Danny chuckled. Only one person knew he’d killed the Joker, he hadn’t even told Jazz when she’d called after the breakout, which meant the Red Hood was breaking into his apartment and leaving him meals. Why? As a thank you? Danny stilled owed him a thank you for all he’d done for his people. 

            Reheating the chicken parmesan Danny let his thoughts turn from the Red Hood to his plans for the day. According to his phone it was nearing seven. He’d also gotten confirmation sometime in the middle of the night for the furniture he’d bought saying it’d arrive closer to two. 

            He scarfed down the food (he couldn’t remember ever eating something so delectable) and made his way down to let Jazz in. [SE7]  It had been a few weeks since they’d been able to have brunch, and he smiled when they made eye contact. Her hair was pulled back with a bandanna, her jeans were cuffed, and she wore an open jacket over a ratty old t-shirt. She looked ready to get to work.

            “All right, Mr.-fixes-everyone’s-problems-but-his-own, lead the way.” She arched an eyebrow, clearly still miffed that he hadn’t told her about buying and renovating the building.

            He brought her up to the fourth floor. “This is where they’ll be staying. It’s got two rooms so they won’t have to share, but it’s also on my floor so I can be nearby if they need an adult.”

            “Is that what you think you are?” She teased, lowering the bucket of cleaning supplies she’d brought along.

            Rolling his eyes, he opened the balcony window blinds. “I cleaned all of the open apartments when I bought the place, but it could use a thorough dusting and vacuuming. The furniture will be arriving around two, so we’ve got time. I also need to get to the grocery store to stock their cabinets and pick up some essentials, I was going to take your car. You good here while I take care of that?”

            She nodded. “You won’t even recognize it when you get back.”

            He wasn’t sure if that was meant to be reassuring. But he let her get to work anyway.

Danny didn’t drive much these days. He didn’t have a car and even if he did the likelihood of it getting stolen or broken into where he lived was high. He preferred to take buses or trains anywhere he needed to go but with how many bags of things he intended to get it just wouldn’t be convenient.

            First stop was the department store. He picked out a couple of outfits for each of the boys (he guessed at their sizes as best he could) and some packaged underwear and socks. He picked out bed sheet sets and comforters, a shower curtain, bathmat, bath towels, and kitchen towels. What else… they’d need dishes! 

Loading the essentials -cups, plates, silverware, a couple of pots and pans, knives, a cutting board, and measuring utensils- he stopped and considered getting more. Before he could go completely overboard, he cut himself off. He still needed to get groceries and toiletries and it was already nearing eleven.

            He picked out shampoo, conditioner, toothbrushes and paste, deodorant, combs, a hairbrush, and anything else he thought they might need. At twelve he made his way to the grocery store which he originally thought would be the cheapest part of the trip. Until he saw the prices of seasonings. Five dollars for a jar of garlic powder! 

            Not that Danny was terribly concerned about money, he’d basically been dared by Clockwork to find a way to use it all up without simply giving it all away, but when he thought about all of the essentials the boys would need… flour, sugar, baking powder, baking soda, half a million seasonings, as well as shelf stable snacks and some canned goods… the cost added up.

            Swiping his card without a second thought, Danny loaded up the car. 

            Jazz was right. When he got back the apartment looked…. Well it was the same, obviously, but it was so much cleaner, fresher, it had a lighter feel to it. Every speck of dust was gone, the carpets had been deep cleaned, the bathroom sparkled, and the kitchen was ready to be filled.

            It didn’t take the two of them long to unload everything from the car but by the time it was all put away (and they were both thoroughly exhausted) the furniture was being delivered.

            “Remind me again why we didn’t ask any of your many ghost friends to help us with this?” Jazz huffed, pulling the couch up the stairs as Danny pushed.

            He chuckled. “You were the one who said, and I quote, ‘We don’t need ghost powers, we are perfectly strong and capable humans, and we don’t want the neighbors to suspect anything’.”

            “Well that’s not even completely true, is it?” She huffed. “Just do it!” 

            Giving his best impression of a super villain’s laugh, Danny hesitated for only a minute before granting mercy, turning the couch intangible, and flying past Jazz with the furniture. She didn’t laugh, clearly exasperated, following him and muttering things under her breath while he flew back and forth bringing up the furniture. 

            Jazz began assembling the bedframes while he finished bringing up furniture. When he finally settled back into the apartment he felt like collapsing onto the couch and taking one of his power naps. The black spots in his vision went away with just a bit of blinking and he pushed away the thought. He didn’t need a nap, he needed to get this done.

            “Danny?” Jazz asked, cautiously, noting his momentary dissociation. “You okay there, brother?”

            He nodded slowly. “Tired. I’ve been pretty busy recently.”

            She eyed him skeptically but let it slide. He listened to her chatter on about work while they put together the beds ‘and it’s hard to believe he’s really dead but thank Ancients because that monster didn’t deserve to claim insanity even once!’, Danny trying to keep from wincing every time she speculated about the Joker’s murder/death.

            Just as they were finishing up Danny’s phone began to ring.

            “Hello?” He moved away from Jazz to get a bit of privacy.

            “Mr. Nightingale? It’s Dr. Thompkins. The boys are getting restless, and I’ve caught them trying to leave twice. I think it’d be best if you came down to get them.” Her voice was professional, but he could hear a hint of exasperation underneath.

            Giving a quick confirmation, he hung up. “I’ve gotta go pick up the boys, they’re getting restless. You wanna stick around? I was gonna order pizzas.”

            “How about this; you take my car to pick them up so Miguel doesn’t have to walk much, and I’ll call in pizzas which you can pick up while you’re out?” She reasoned from the floor. She’d sprawled out after they’d finished the last of the furniture and had apparently decided to become a permanent resident of the floor.

            “You got it, sis.” Swiping her keys once again he made his way out. On the short drive over he felt the anxiety begin to bubble up. What if they hated it? He didn’t know these kids that well, what if they were super overwhelmed and up and left? He wasn’t a father or guardian to anyone (except the entirety of the infinite realms but that’s beside the point)! He couldn’t take care of kids! Santiago was just thirteen! Being neglected at that age was what led to Danny dying at fourteen!

            The panic took over his senses and before he knew it he’d arrived outside of the clinic. Once inside, the nurse (the same from the night before) smiled and gestured for him to go on back. He made eye contact with Miguel and waited. Waited for something. Waited for him to change his mind about all of this. Waited for him to run. Waited. Finally, Miguel sighed. “All right. Let’s go, man.”

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[lunar-wandering]

Actually no I cannot stop thinking about the fact that, it's not that that Scene is the first time the Collector has cried, it's just the first time there's been tears.

I mean;

Look at this. This is the expression of someone who's about to cry. And, notably, they do.

We can LITERALLY hear them crying in the next scene- but when Luz approaches them;

There's no tears. Quite possibly because, physically, it's not meant to be possible for them. After all, they are meant to live in space, I think having water freeze right when it comes out of your eyes would be a hinderance, honestly.

But, then later,

they do cry tears.

so what's different about them here than before??

My first thought is the icky moss stuff. Which is, coming from a combination of Belos and The Titan. Aka, the being that can negate all of the Collector's magic. And it is shown that the Collector's magic was not working. They were, for all intents and purposes, as close to human as they could be, here.

Clearly, they have enough power to hold up the archives, but it's very obviously painful for them- which is weird, from someone who can easily move the moon, you'd think that stabilizing the archives would be easy- except for the fact that, other than the star-board he's standing on (something that seems to be more of an magic item than his own magic, in my opinion, since others can seemingly use it without his input), and the ribbons (possibly also an item), he's not actually using magic to hold it up, just their own raw strength. (Which, wow, if this is how much they can lift at their weakest, how strong is this kid just in terms of physical strength?)

But anyways, that's not my final point.

My final point is that, even after the moss is gone- suddenly we see tears forming in the Collector's eyes, when we didn't before.

Their ability to form tears didn't go away.

It could, of course, just be a symbolic thing, you know, but... there was some Titan magic mixed in with everything. What if the Collector is now more mortal than he was before? Does he know? Can he be affected by things he couldn't before, like illness or poison? Did it impact his decision to return to the stars?

What does becoming just a bit more mortal mean to an immortal?