#<- the real culprit here lol

[astrologuzzy]

✿ MORE ASTRO OBSERVASHUNS ✿

I’m back to spill more astrology observations, lessgetit!!! ˃̵ᴗ˂̵

Also, quick reminder that these are just MY observations and opinions I’ve gathered, so take what resonates and leave what doesn’t! mwahhh 😽💋

☆ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 seem to really like physical displays of affection very much. Every Gemini I knew always loved giving hugs specifically lol. They may enjoy physical touch as a love language.

★ I often notice how 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 aren’t scared to give their opinions no matter how controversial they may be. They don’t care if people agree, if they truly believe in it then they will share it and whoever disagrees can kiss their own ass. Which can seem intimidating to many especially with how much intensity and passion Scorpio brings to the table.

☆ I find it so easy to spot someone with 𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒. You guys give a very mellow and grounded energy that is very specific to Earth signs. Y’all have that signature down to earth presence or a very firm/calm tone of voice that I recognize instantly even thru text lol.

★ Everyone wants to call Leos the most “cocky” sign but have y’all seen 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈? They’re the real culprit here lol. These guys are number one fans of themselves (do I even need to make examples lol) and I respect it tbh.

☆ Speaking of 𝐋𝐄𝐎, they love to just disappear for like days or weeks straight out of absolutely nowhere and then come back like nothing happened and resume from where they left off. Like sir, are you not gonna explain why you just ghosted everybody? Lol like are you gonna explain where you was? (double points if that Leo has Sagittarius or Aquarius influences in chart cos they’re even more prone to going mia).

★ When people have 𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 in their big 6 or heavy Mars influence in the chart I notice that they tend to sound/come across way ruder than they’re actually being lol. They can be very dominant and intimidating in conversations. You’d think they’re angry or being mean but they’re just asking you to pass them the water bottle lmao. Often I think they don’t even realize that themselves since they’re just built that way.

☆ People with 𝐒𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐏𝐈𝐎 & 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 in their big 3 together kinda scare me lol (in a good way). They usually are very into occult stuff and/or are strongly religious and showcase it very openly and firmly. Sometimes they just have a very intimidating aura/demeanor to them. I notice how they frequently tend to be very into dark colors and themes/styles too. They don’t f*ck around at all. Love y’all 💚

★ People with a 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 𝐒𝐔𝐍 usually have their Moon sign qualities be more noticeable. With Geminis I tend to catch onto their Moon sign behavior before I realize that they’re a Gemini. Could be a mutable thing where they’re versatile enough that their Moon qualities shine more than their sun sign qualities. Very frequently when I try to guess a Gemini’s sun sign I actually guess their Moon sign. They tend to act like their Moon more than other zodiac signs in my experience. They may not even notice it either.

☆ I hope I don’t offend anyone for this one but people with a 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐔𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 (frequently more moon) mother tend to have veryyyy chaotic childhood stories about her. Somehow these moms tend to often be pretty emotionally unhinged people (no offense but in my experience so many of my friends have a mom with a Pisces sun and/or Pisces moon and they all always tell me how their moms have crazy mood swings or a very erratic behavior). I’m honestly so sorry for anyone who had, or still has to deal with such an environment. 🫂💚

★ 𝐆𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈 & 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐔𝐒 are the best opposite sign duo in astrology imo. I’ve never seen many Geminis or Sags that say they dislike or don’t get that along with one another. We really click well and even I personally can testify that lol. These two always besties.

☆ Also 𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 loooove anything to do with 2D characters or just fictional stuff in general. They love their ffs, romance books, making fan arts or edits. Every Pisces I knew had some kind of obsession with multiple fictional characters or shows and each one of them had accounts dedicated to making art or edits about said characters/shows lol. No matter if it’s a manga, an anime, a video game, a song, a movie or a cartoon, a Pisces placement will most probably romanticize a character or wtv it is they feel resonates with them in some way. I know lotta people do that but Pisces are usually more prone to be very frequent and indulgent with it in my experience. Not judging anyone, just pointing it out lol.

That’s all for todayyy ☀︎

Also please don’t copy or claim my content without credit or consent ♡

[mischievousmoony]

hello ! i saw that you were open for requests. could you do sick reader and james being the best bestfriend ever (and oblivious as hell) takes care of them? maybe they could be childhood friends so james doesn't realize that what he's doing in inherently romantic, like kissing reader's forehead to check their temp, giving his shoulder to them to lay on, sleeping in the same bed, and such.

AND even after reader is no longer sick, james still insist on spoon feeding them and acting like a helicopter mom.

- 🌱

what a lovely idea! thank you for the request <3 i love this because earlier this summer i had a nasty sinus infection for like 3 weeks :/ i wish i had a james potter then lol also i noticed you used they/them pronouns in ur req. im not sure if you wanted gn!reader, but i think it ended up being that way anyway. i didn't need to use pronouns, or even y/n, in this fic <3

𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚎

⟢ james potter x reader ⊹ 1.4k ⟢ warnings/tags: fluff, no use of y/n, no magic

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

It was only an hour ago that you told James over the phone not to worry about you.

Now, he stands in your bedroom, having let himself into your flat with the spare key that you that keep at his parents' house for emergencies— which he uses very often, but hardly for emergencies.

"James," you complain in a nasally voice, "I'm going to get you sick."

He plants his hands on his hips and looks at you scrutinizingly. It reminds you of Euphemia when she would scold you and James as children, and truthfully, when she sometimes scolds you these days.

"Nonsense, my immune system is built like a tank."

"James," you whine further.

He ignores you as he approaches your bedside, frowning as he takes in your sickly appearance. He gently brushes away the sweat-drenched hair from your forehead.

"My poor thing," he comments before bending down to press a lingering kiss to your forehead.

"You don't feel terribly warm, but you look flushed," James' wrist swivels to press the back of his hand to your cheek, "Do you feel hot?"

"A- a little," you croak, knowing full well that a raging blush is the real culprit behind your reddening face.

James' frown deepens as he dives into his next area of concern, "Have you been eating? You hardly had anything in your fridge."

"I have enough peanut butter and jelly to get me through an apocalypse. Why were you in my fridge?"

"I had to put away the groceries."

Your eyebrows draw together, "What groceries!?"

"I bought you groceries," he says nonchalantly.

"Why would you buy me groceries!?"

James is suddenly sheepish. He rubs the back of his neck, "It's not much. Mostly ingredients for the chicken soup I'm gonna make."

"Make? If you really must you could've just gotten a can of–"

"Eugh! I would never subject you to canned soup!"

You roll your eyes at his dramatics.

"That processed shit is just going to make you feel worse," he adds.

"Does Effie know she's created a monster?" you mumble to the ceiling.

James' chuckles, "Look, I'm already here, I've already bought the food. Just let me make you a nice soup and then I'll get out of here." James raises his hands in the air to indicate his surrender to compromise.

Your head hurts too much to continue an argument that you know you won't win, so you relent and wave him off to the kitchen.

Before James leaves you, "Are you comfortable? Do you need anything before I go?"

"I'm fine."

"You sound stuffy. Is there a lot of pressure? Do you like a hot or a cold compress?"

You wince as you imagine a cold compress, feeling like that would make your headache somehow feel sharper against your brain.

"Hot."

James smiles, happy that you're beginning to give into his care, and disappears from your sight.

He returns with a warm, damp cloth and a paper shopping bag stuffed under his arm. He starts unloading his haul onto your night table.

"I brought you the nice tissues, the ones with the lotion so that they don't irritate your nose. And are you taking medicine? I wasn't sure what your symptoms were or what you usually take so I got stuff for everything. I've got nasal sprays, decongestants, cough syrups— which I'm pretty sure you hate so I bought lozenges too."

You watch despairingly as he sets medicine after medicine down.

"I took paracetamol an hour ago," you inform him.

"That's it? You could at least use the nasal spray then. Here, let me–"

You place a hand over his that fiddles with the cap of the spray, "I've got it. Just go make your soup."

James looks up from the little white bottle, "Oh yeah, sure." But he hesitates before he goes, "You want a lozenge though?"

You yield to James' incessant efforts, figuring he would feel better if you let him do something for you. You hold out your hand to accept the lozenge but as soon as he sees you nod, he is already set on removing its waxy wrap and popping it in your mouth himself.

At last, he presses the warm, damp cloth gently over your closed eyes and retreats to your kitchen.

He reappears every so often to rewarm the cloth that's over your eyes, bring you cups of water or herbal tea, and make sure that you're still comfortable. He's offered to fluff your pillows five times.

The next time he enters your bedroom, he's finally carrying a bowl of steaming soup, one of your dishcloths a barrier between his hands and the hot porcelain.

You sit and hold out your hands to accept the bowl.

"Oh, it's far too hot for you to hold," James says, choosing to ignore the fact that he is doing just fine holding it himself.

He plants himself on the edge of your bed and starts blowing on a spoonful of the savory soup.

"You can't be serious," you mutter, sniffling.

"Just lean back and relax," James instructs, "let me take care of you."

James looks at you with the roundest, most doe-like eyes can can muster. Oh, those stupid big brown eyes— it's impossible to resist them.

You let James feed you what just might be the best soup you've ever tasted. Rich flavors dance on your tongue and you try not to let your eyes flutter closed in bliss, but the enjoyment is written across your face anyway. He refrains from teasing you, feeling too much pity for your being unwell to make any fun.

"Is this helping any?" James checks, blowing on another spoonful of broth.

You hum affirmatively, "It's really nice," you murmur, letting the warmth of the soup spread across your chest.

A prideful smile finds its way onto James' lips.

After he he scrapes the last bit of soup onto the spoon and brings it to your mouth, he places the empty bowl onto your night table. You realize that you still need to thank him and you share words of gratitude as you wring out your neck.

"You alright?"

"A bit stiff from being cooped up in bed," you roll out your shoulders.

"Well, you needed your rest," James says, studying you. "Here, scoot up."

You look at him curiously as he helps you scoot forward. When he starts settling in behind you, your eyes round.

"James!"

You've lost count of how many times you've uttered his name in scolding today. Your face flushes crimson and you count yourself lucky that he at least can't see it this time.

James shushes you, and your protests die in your throat when his hands apply a satisfying pressure to your neck.

He can't help but chuckle, nor can he help seek your approval, "Helping?"

"Uh-huh," you sigh, your eyes fluttering closed, and you feel James' body rumble with laughter against you.

The coming days play out similarly, and you've quickly ceased protesting against him. James attends to your every need and casually showers you in affection day after day.

He even insists on staying over some nights, which you do protest against, as he means to sleep on your couch which is not even long enough for him to lay flat. But you need not worry about that, because when night falls he ends up dozing off next to you in bed, where he intended to only stay until you fell asleep.

In the mornings, neither of you seem to mind waking up in each others arms.

Within a few days, your health improves, but this doesn't stop James from continuing to tend to you.

"I haven't run a fever in days!" you protest as James' lips still against your forehead for several seconds.

"You never know," James mumbles against your forehead before pulling away.

You huff as you meet his eyes on his retreat, "I'm not sick anymore, James."

"You still sniffle sometimes," he shrugs, turning to collect the empty bowl on your night table, which he fed you fresh stew out of for lunch this afternoon.

You chuckle at his antics, "It's just a lingering sniffle, it will probably clear up by tomorrow. Besides, I hardly need someone taking care of me for that."

James pulls his lips into a timid line, feeling quite sheepish. He hides his face as he turns to leave your room with the dirty dish.

He tsks as he formulates an excuse for himself, "Or it means that your illness is coming back for a second round. What kind of friend would I be if I don't make sure it's gone before I set you loose?"

James makes his way to the kitchen to wash your dishes, seemingly unaware that he might enjoy taking care of you a bit more than a friend would. Or maybe he’s simply embraced the comfort of being exactly where he wants to be.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[mollysunder]

Before the first season of Arcane premiered Riot released this interactive visual novel for the Riot x Arcane event. The setting was a hybrid of LoL and Arcane's universe, Piltover literally on top of Zaun, Cait is the Sheriff, but characters like Silco exist. The whole premise for the story is that Jinx stole some hextech and tapped into the Arcane oand opened a rift between worlds.

That's a lot. Personally I enjoyed this more to just see some characters out in the wild. Silco gets to be his charming self to you, the self-insert reader that's trying to find the culprit of the heist, which he knows was his kid.

Here's Jayce hating on Silco for something Jinx did.

This came out before the show did, so it's interesting to see how the game wants us perceive the characters' dynamics before we get further depth from the show. Most of it's related to Jinx because she makes herself the center of controversy.

For characters like Vi, who's already an enforcer that works directly under Sheriff Caitlyn in this world, she's clearly over Jinx's actions and wants to squash any further escalations.

Sevika is just as harsh and plainly sick of Jinx. I do find it interesting that the novel makes it clear tha Sevika believes that Jinx deserves some kind of punishment, though Jinx did endanger them all by ripping realities into eachother.

The only sympathetic voice outside of Silco in this story comes from Viktor, who after finding out Jinx was responsible for the Rift between realities asks you to remember that she's a real person that lived a life just like him. He goes so far as to contemplate another way to solve the situation and avoid a confrontation that may end with terrible consequences. (It's wild because the show then dedicates a whole scene to him defusing one of her bombs).

My favorite part is near the end where Silco tries to stop Jinx from harnessing anymore Arcane energy because it threatens to upend their reality.

I WISH they got to talk like this to eachother in the show, but so much was happening already. Even better Jinx gets the last words in and it justlays out what's ALWAYS been there.

This scene helped me understand that Jinx was always going to fire her rocket at the council, because she and Silco have both always been motivated to by power. They both know what it's like to be perceived as "weak" and they way it destroyed their lives respectively. It's kind of the reverse of what Mel and Ambessa have going on, you've got the diplomatic intrigue parent and the militarily minded daughter who wants to go further and absolutely will when you're not looking. And that's always been the thing with Jinx, if you give her any form of power, either a gun, a grenade, a rocket, or even magic she will take it and she will use it.

Right after this confrontation you have to defeat Jinx with the Power of Friednship or something (it's been a while). But even as put an end to the near calamity Jinx created there's at least one voice before it ends affirming Jinx's personhood.

It's weird honestly, Jinx didn't turn into vapor or anything, the story's pretty vague about what happens as you try to defeat her.

Well the novel's good when it's good anyway.

[daydreamsandcrashingwaves]

Keeping It Close To The Chest Pt 1

Edited 12/25/23 ~~ Here's Part Two ~~

Part Three Part Four

I devoured the Damian Wayne and Danny Fenton are Twins tags and had to make something of my own to add. This is my first fanfic I've decided to post. I'm much more familiar with the DP side of things but I gave it my best shot. Hope this brings joy anyway. If I decide to post this on A03 I will have it beta'd since I made this in like four parts and then wove them together so the flow may not always be there whoopps.. but for now I just wanted to share this with all you!

TW/CW: Medical experimentation and trauma, parental abuse/neglect, wound description, blood-ectoplasm and human, death (it's danny, he's the culprit lol will apply to Jason too if I add to this), body horror (to be safe), PTSD and flashbacks, childhood trauma and abuse, dehumanization

If I missed a tag/warning please let me know! I've never been an extensive tagger so i tried real hard to get everything, but I am human and could've missed something. Much love, stay safe.

~Ren

He had to keep moving. He could still hear their screams of rage ringing in his ears. Faster, he had to be faster. His blind panic had created an opportunity, a sliver of hope Danyal was determined to twist to his advantage. He was limping forward on uncertain legs. His vision swayed with the movement, and he fought to keep upright. His chest was on fire, Danny pressed his hands tightly to the wound there in a desperate attempt to keep his organs from spilling out like confetti. He kept his arms tucked close and rounded his shoulders to try and keep his torso still while he moved quickly through the empty streets of his once home. His chest was by far injured the worst, but he had paid no mind to the others. If he dared to stop, he would fully die.

Even in his human form, Danny just knows he's leaving a glowing blood trail behind him, the ectoplasm burning into the ground behind him. Whatever side of his transformation his body was currently showing it didn't matter, he was simultaneously both, always. The trail was evidence he transformed due to necessity, he became so durable after dying that it took a lot to hurt him. Danny risked a glance down and paled further. The green he spilled as Phantom mixed with red. A fucked up corrosive bread trail right to him. He was sure he truly was in deep shit. He just had to get to his go bag. Over time with his parent's inventions getting more dangerous the more Danny had to think about putting into motion The Great Escape.

Anything important he had always kept hidden, but Danny had taken everything out of his room once he had died the second time, and Danny was grateful for the convenience to be able to phase things into walls, floors, ceilings. It made his things pretty secure; no human could find it and any ghost that came through was too focused on their obsession or fighting him to go on a treasure hunt for his hidden things.

Danny's willful ignorance of his body as he stumbles farther from FentonWorks doesn’t stop the slight burn of his ectoplasm against the edges of his wounds and the tatters of his hazmat suit pulling on the scabbing blood or the smell. Ancients the smell. It’s rancid, he hasn’t been able to cycle it properly without his normal supply of fresh ectoplasm from the Zone. Only provided in small bursts when his parents wanted to see how his body healed with and without ectoplasm. He can feel the whispers of his terror, anger, grief that’s flowing through his blood.

He had been overconfident way back when he had threatened Vlad with exposing his secret. He had thought they'd love him despite having kept his halfa status from them, he hadn't been prepared for the distrust, the hatred, the way they moved farther and farther from thought out experiments to revenge. Danny knows Maddie and Jack still see him as the quiet, shaken child so desperate to be good, craving acceptance by the eccentric family that took him in when they look at him. If Danny had to guess they had been so blinded in their rage to even realized it was their machine, their failure that made him this way. Now they really did want him dead.

He’s whole somehow, despite their best effort, he just needs time. Ancients, He’s not exactly the monster they pictured, but He's not human... He’s whole.

The thought tastes bitter and Danny strangles it before it can expand. He must be focused. Taking a measured breath Danny turns down a familiar alley, he goes intangible with a slight twinge in his core, slipping into the bathroom of Nasty Burger. He’s done this so many times the familiar path brings comfort, reassurance. Like maybe things will start to turn for the better. Making his way over to the stall Danny debated whether it was worth climbing the toilet or floating up there. No, it was better to grit his teeth and bare it. There were only three containers of ectoplasm in his bag, he needed to preserve what strength he had. He would soon have no way to access the Zone for a refill.

Danny took one hand and placed it on the wall before careful stepping up. Lifting his leg had sent waves of pain across his nerves but with a grunt he leveraged himself up. His vision went black at the edges, he was dizzy, and bile clawed at the back of his throat. Danny took a few breaths, while he might not need to breathe, he’s been human longer than not, and well.. he’s only half ghost so the habit carried over to when he's Phantom. Danny was immensely grateful for his time in the League, the training was brutal, he still has nightmares about dying the first time but.. he did learn how to survive in situations that if he was truly a Fenton, would've killed him many times over. As Danny was Danyal Al Ghul Fenton, he always had back up plans. His Mother had been heavy handed with those lessons.

It was painful to think about Talia. She had been Grandfather’s favored child and the weight of his expectations of his grandsons was enforced by her. Lessons or punishment, very rarely praise was given to Danny by his Mother's hand. Each milestone was meticulously observed and reported back, doubly so for their failures. Tiny bodies with too big of weapons, green and blue eyes, a face mirroring his own but twisted in determination, competition. His older brother, his twin. They were inseparable, until they weren't.

Danny's core throbs in his chest, he wanted to shy away from the thought, yet the inconsolable part of him screams at the injustice of being the only one to escape their Grandfather. If only Danny could've proven himself, perhaps his brother would've had a chance to leave in his stead, but Danny knows just how much he was lacking in comparison to his brother, and it was their skill, or lack thereof in Danny's case, that sealed their fates. Danny was able to avoid Ra's overseeing eyes when they moved off the failure of a Spare and homed in on his true Heir. The grandson who took to their lessons like a duck in water. Deathly beautiful, Danny used to think as he watched his brother dance and fly through his training. Talia couldn't defy Ra's orders but if she just.. misplaced.. the Spare that was abandoned, well, no one has come for him yet.

Danny knows she loved him, somewhere hidden, deep inside his Grandfather's perfect pet assassin. She loved him enough to send him away when it became clear Ra’s saw no need in the Spare that was no longer needed, she had loved him when she had beaten him and left mortal wounds-their only chance to fool Grandfather, she loved him when she had given him his packed bag and left him outside that orphanage in Chicago with lazarus water raging in his veins, and she loved him when she told him to forget.

Forget about the League her and his brother, his family.

With brief tight squeeze to his small shoulder her she told him if he was in danger to find Bruce Wayne and then Talia Al Ghul was gone and Danyal-just Danyal now- was left truly on his own for the first time ever.

Danny was definitely in danger now; his situation was grave and despite everything the pun brought a small smile to his face. He couldn’t go back home to the Fenton's. He tries to forget how he froze in his surprise when he realized his parents didn’t take his reveal as Phantom as well as they had let on. They had smiled and stalled until they had found a way to contain him. By then it was too late, he had gotten too complacent in his run on a normal life.

Only after Ancients knows how long he had been resisting, pleading, screaming-I’m still Danny, it hurts mom please, I’m still me, Dad I’m alive- did Maddie find his core. Too tired to move it away from her gaze any longer and when her fingers brushed it the wave of mind-numbing terror exploded out of him. Something must've been on her gloves because his core burned. It ripped a wail from his throat while he writhed on the table. Ice responded like it never was taken from him by the anti-ghost restraints.

Danny could still distantly feel the ghostly ice that had trapped them in place and shattered his restraints under the pressure the frozen water bursting into existence. Even trapped in his ghost ice they were steadily working on getting out and would be on the hunt for him again soon. He wouldn't allow them to catch him again.

The mere idea they’d be on their way already spurred Danny back into action. Slipping his hand into the wall he grabbed the strap and pulled his bag out, careful to keep it weightless, and slid off the toilet and back down to the floor. He hasn't seen his dagger in months, it hurt too much to practice without Dami, his other half. Here it is though, innocently tied to his bag and his gaze traced it lovingly, before searching inside the biggest pocket for his first aid kit. He didn't have time for stiches, so he reaches for the butterfly bandages and starts to pull the skin together before securing it. It's really the first proper look he gets, it's... unsettling at the very least, horrifying, to see a wound reserved for autopsies on his chest.

The Y incision is inflamed and still bleeding so he carefully follows its path until he's done. Grabbing gauze, he starts to reinforce pad, wrapping a roll of bandages around to hold everything in place. Danny bites his lip and thinks for a moment, he will need stitches, he's been wounded enough in this half-life to know that. The likelihood for his work to stay in place while he flies is less than he'd like. Making a decision and with a mental shrug he takes an ectoshot from the smaller pocket and stabbed it into his thigh before pressing the depressor. Pure energy zapped through his system hard, angerly surges to settle in his chest. Feeling a bit better but more.. wired Danny takes a second to calm. Steeling himself he tries to nudge his core, it responds in a weak pulse.

Danny's body protests, he can feel his muscles shred and reform, his bones twist like taffy, his organs melt together before settling to form his ectobody. It's all over in a flash of bright light, yet the pain felt endless. Overwhelming in its intensity but gone just as quickly as it came leaving Danny sweaty and panting. Transforming injured was tricky, he had to carefully picture where the bandages were, so he didn't lose all his hard work.

Confusion settled as a fog, clinging to his thoughts, making them murky. His hands were covered in blood, his body hurt, and he couldn't quite remember why, there was a siren coming closer. Everything in him screamed to run, to escape, but his hunters were too close now, freed from his ice to kill him fully. On instinct Danny's nails grew to claws, ripping into space to create a portal. He was weak, always had been, but he was good at running, hiding away in the shadows. Ghost was once a name of his, a proud title, not just what he is now.

Just as the doors burst open in a teal and orange blur Danny dove into the swirling green and hoped Clockwork was watching so at least someone knew things had exploded here in Amity. He hasn't needed to be on his own like this since after Jazz first saw him and demanded that her parents bring Danny home with them. He misses her now as the path out of Nasty Burger closes behind him. Danny's falling, dropping towards the ground too fast for eyes to track but his impact had definitely shaken the room. With a pained whine and a flash Danny was back to being human again, his landing had pulled at whatever scab was able to form in the twentyish minutes it took him to drag himself away from the basement. Danny was going to be sick, the sticky cool liquid that had his clothes clinging to him, was going to be very alarming when he finally could give himself a proper once over. He could feel the new bruises as he tried to roll off the pallets he had crushed.

"Oh! Someone decided to drop by! " A man called out with glee as he sauntered in his direction. "Shall we see who our special guest is?" Danny could feel the rotten soul as he got closer. Too close. Forgoing moving Danny tensed in anticipation. He was hurt, yes, but he would go down fighting. He could do that much to make his brother proud, even if he never realized Danny lived to 15 not 5. Before he could uncurl to swing at the man there was the soft sound of fabric rustling and a blade being drawn. Curling tighter Danny hoped he had enough juice to go intangible.

"You will not reach your goal Joker; Do you not get sick of trying?" The voice was smooth, deeper than he remembered but it's been 10 years, it's understandable that puberty changed his brother's voice. Danny would recognize it anywhere. Danny jinxed himself, somehow. How he ended up in the same room as the brother he hadn't seen in a decade, Danny wasn't sure. He was terrified though. Where Damian was the League and their Grandfather wasn't far behind. Damian had carefully hidden away his care as a child but would shower Danny in it in the darkness of their room. After years apart and Grandfather's continued influence Danny was uncertain how much of Damian truly remained.

There was a burst of noise, of movement and a struggle then silence covered the room. Danny's hands were shaking. "Nightwing, first aid is required inside, bring the kit." His brother paused, "No, a civilian, a metahuman if his unusually colored blood is to be taken into account."

Danny could feel his brother's scrutiny, his gaze held weight as it scanned over his collapsed form, he tried to curl more but a hand brushing his shoulder had Danny screaming and scrambling away.

Damian's hands twitched at his side, an aborted motion to draw his sword. He seemed to pause then they flew up empty, placating- it didn't bring Danny any comfort.

An assassin's greatest tool was always their hands. Green eyes tracked him, narrowing at the way Danny was shrinking into the shadows. Dread swam down his spine to settle hard in his gut. Of all the ways to meet his brother again, it had to be when he was dying, for a third time. Danny reached blindly for whatever was next to him to pull himself up, his knees wobbled precariously but he would be standing for this. He had to be. Black spots were now in his vision, but he forced a smirk onto his face. Danny was sure he was a sight to see, torn clothes, skin riddled with bruises, green and red blood splattered all over like a kindergartener's messy painting of Christmas, limp dirty hair.

Danny knows Damian is assessing him, taking in what he can see in front of him to efficiently deal with it as they were trained to do. potential strengths and weaknesses. Behind both the domino mask and his calm exterior Damian is taking in a snapshot. Danny wonders what he sees, if his brother recognizes the boy he’s grown into, Danny’s core thrums wildly and he tries not to fidget. The slight frown that pulls at Damian’s mouth means he caught the aborted motion.

"Damn, green, yellow and red... You look like a traffic light!" He gets one giggle in before he chokes on it. Danny can't breathe. His brother had gone deathly still when Danny spoke. He could see the war of emotions fighting through his brother, suspicion was quickly doused with rage. "How dare she." The Arabic was an unexpected comfort, but Danny felt confusion at the words. He's severely out of practice, he thought he understood but doubt settled in. He wasn't sure.

Damian had always stood firm next to him in the League, calm, driven and decisive, the perfect heir for their Grandfather. He was always warm to Danny though, would allow traces of his true feelings to be visible when Damian would inevitably catch Danny sneaking out of his bed to stargaze. Danny would get scolded, every time. Grandfather would punish him harshly for such indulgences, he knew it. Attachments were weaknesses and Grandfather would not grow weakness in the League, in his heirs. Danny may be weak and the Spare but he was smart. He knows what the looks of distaste meant from his Grandfather. He knew how his failures would catch up to him and how Grandfather disapproved of his influence on Damian. Yet Danny kept going back, hiding in the shadows to gaze at the stars and wait for his brother to come find him.

Danny had braced for Damian to be mad when he realizes Danny didn’t truly die that day and has stayed away from his brother, but Danny couldn’t have expected this.

Pure hatred lights up in Damian’s eyes when he finally realizes what is in front of him. It's Danny’s undoing. Everything else that has happened seemed like a cakewalk compared to being rejected by the person who had always understood him most. Ghosts are the manifestation of their emotions. Frostbite had explained once how injuries can manifest in a ghost's form on their own. Emotional pain could make them unravel down to their cores, until even that disappeared.

For Danny, there was uncertainty, halfas were so rare that there wasn’t much off hand knowledge, but Danny has always known from the second he died. There was no separation between his human and ghost halves. He just was. What fancy wrapping he showed off hardly mattered. Things bleed so easily between them, Danny Fenton and Phantom.

"I'll kill her painfully for this, but you abomination it will be swift." Damian has balanced on his toes, ready for a quick burst of speed. His sword now clenched so tightly in his hands it almost shakes.

An abomination the words looped through Danny's mind. The wounded sob that came forth when he opened his mouth to reply was unexpected. Danny took halting steps back from his twin. The hitching breath brought his attention back to his chest. This wasn't how Danny had pictured this moment, all those years of stolen daydreams. His core felt wrong in his chest. He felt cold, cold and brittle but his chest was on fire-and wet. The surgical cut seeping like its minutes fresh, this was by far Danny’s worst idea, to believe to ever hope, his brother would ever keep a monster by his side Danny was a fool to hope even for a moment-hands hands reaching for him to bring him back, grabbing his arm-

“No! I don't know! No please” Danny gasps as he flails weakly “I’m sorry I’m sorry!”

Damian hesitates again, before his resolve firms, "Danyal-" His name cracks over his brother's tongue. Danny isn't aware enough to unpack the way his brother's face twists in heartbreak the longer he watches Danny bleed. A warm body comes up behind him, blocking him in, he’s crying now, a weakness that he never could smother. "No!" Danny avoids his gaze scrambling to grip onto whatever fabric is in his hands. Danny wants the moment to last but he knows what’s coming. Damian won’t protect him now. His older brother had been steadfast by his side in their childhood, but now… now maybe it was better he’s bleeding out.

Danny vaguely registered the man behind him cutting off his shirt, kit at the ready besides him. Pressure on his wound forces a long high whine from his throat. He wants to shove it away, his hand swatting at it but he missed, and it thuds uselessly on the ground. He doesn't have the energy to try again.

The shock of a hot hand against his face brings everything into abrupt focus. Danny flinches but can’t move, the body unyielding behind him. He sees the room is covered in his frost and ice. Batman and Red Robin are farther back, their feet trapped in the ghostly ice, they had things in hand to try and hack away at the ice trapping them in place.

“Danyal” The pain in his twin's voice has him turning in that direction; his brother was there. For how well they could read each other in childhood Danny had no clue what his brother was thinking now. His twice dead brother, back to only die again at his feet. “Are you destabilizing? Why were you sent here? What does Mother want?”

“What?” Danny can’t help the laugh that bursts out of him, even if it hurts, it seems his ice kept his organs in place while he tumbled through his hastily made portal. He must've lost consciousness at some point though; his ice seems to have melted to leaving him fully exposed. “That bitch- She has nothing to do with this- wait. You think-” Danny laughs even harder until he can’t breathe and he’s hacking and spitting up more ectoplasm. He’s pulled more fully against the warm body behind him, his head lulls-oh it’s Nightwing, the blatant concern radiating from the man stings Danny’s eyes and a few tears scatter down his face.

“I’m not a clone Dami, I didn’t even know you weren’t with the League anymore." Danny's speech slurs more the harder he tries to piece sentences together, "I'm sorry I don't know how I ended up here.” Danny is growing quieter the longer he talks- can feel his life draining onto the floor and there’s panic in the air now, Batman had sprung up next to Damian's side. Seemed to say something to Damian before he retreated slightly. Batman was hovering ready to interfere but unsure in what actions needed to take place.

Damian is staring at him intently, looking to match his scars to the one's he remembers. He taps his fingers insistently on Danny's cheek and Danny doesn't fight looking back at him. The fingers linger against the scar hidden behind his hair next to his ear, traces the edges. Damian was the one to give it to him, a training error. He had looked at Danny similarly to how he was now. Fear, regret, panic. Words are being said, they blend together, warp, so Danny just hums in response. Everything is more distant now. Danny's own fear floating out of reach. He knows death intimately, he's not afraid to greet her a third time.

The words became frantic as he struggles to stay awake, and someone was talking again. “-ood to see you though- no tss okay no pain.. mma be cold soon-" Oh. That's Danny. The face he has ached to see for years fills his vision. The shade of green he could never replace. Danny was picked up and hustled out a door into the by Nightwing while a harsh discussion flew over his head. They were in some sort of vehicle now, the door shutting causes silence to blanket the group. His head is in Damian's lap, and it takes a second, but Danny realizes Damian is carting his fingers through his greasy hair. His other hand was holding Danny's, playing with his fingers like he did as children. Danny's vision fills with tears and spills down his face.

"Danyal? Can you hear me?" Damian calls his attention softly, his sweet, sweet brother tries to keep the concern out of his voice, off his face. Once he sees Danny focus on him a trembling smile makes its home on Damian's face. His domino mask is gone, Danny drinks in the unobscured view of his brother. "We'll be back to the Cave shortly, Alfred will attend to you, then you're going to tell me exactly how this happened so I can make sure it never does again." Danny can tell Damian is scared, the minute tremble in his petting only confirmed it. Danny let a smile tug at his lips too, "It's gonna be okay Dami" Danny slurred, he hears Damian insisting they were almost home.

Home with Damian. That was a fool's dream, just out of reach. Danny never indulged in the idea; he wouldn't put Dami in danger by reappearing. But- Danny was with him now, a twitch of his fingers against Damian's proves it. Danny went limp as the Batmobile skidded into the Cave, Damian was a silent statue watching Alfred take his brother away from him. Batman saddled up next to him- Damian should shower and change, whatever it was that changed his brother was making his skin itch- but he couldn't move. His baby brother was in there, dying, again.

"Damian, chum... what was all that?" Damian ignores his eyes itching as tears built, he clears his throat to report- reporting was vital with their nighttime activities, Father needed information to help Danny. He couldn't take his eyes of the little glowing red 'In Use' sign above the surgery door though.

Damian cuts a glance at the man next to him, more Bat than Father at the moment. "Once Danyal is stable, I will give you an explanation Father."

~~~~

I thought of a name, added it to the tags, I'll add a link to the next post if I write one, will tag future posts with 'Keeping It Close To The Chest' as well

much love

~Ren

[runa-falls]

scratches and bites - 4

pairing: miguel o'hara x spider-girl!reader

cw: suggestive scenes, insecurities, a bit of cussing

wc: ~2.1k

a/n: god i am SO sorry how long this chapter has taken. i'm not the type of writer to have multiple chapters in a series done before posting them every week, i literally post chapters right when i finish them lol. thanks for sticking with me and being patient!

series masterlist | main masterlist

----

Miguel is still a grumpy man, sneering at anyone who dares to get in his way, still stressed out about keeping the multiverse on track and recruiting capable Spiders to assist him, but at least you’re no longer the main culprit of his frustrations.

Well, you’ll take that back, you’re no longer the one being yelled at.

Your transgressions are dealt with in another way…

Miguel is…insatiable to say the least. Since the day he reprimanded you through very unconventional means, seven suits have fallen victim to his desperation, shredded until they slipped into a pile below you.

Before he could destroy another one, you demanded a nanotech one of your own, tired of having to wait days in between for another one to be tailored, but he refused to give you one because he’s concerned about the unstable WIFI.

Eager fingers tug at the neckline of your suit. He groans, listening to the delicious sound of his claw tearing at the fabric. Red eyes darken as he watches each thread give out to the sharp point of his claws, slowly revealing the supple skin of your throat. He only gets down to your collarbone when you suddenly move away with a huff.

“Mig! Stop.” He frowns when you pull away from his touch, confused as to why you’d reject his advances.

“Sweetheart?”

“You’re always tearing up my suits.”

He’s still confused. You’ve never complained about it before. Actually, you seem to enjoy it, flushing with desire when he uses his claws on you.

“Look, I’m done wearing the extra shirts you keep in your office, Miguel. It’s…awkward having to navigate through HQ to get home without real clothes.”

Miguel’s frown grows deeper. He loves seeing you in his shirts, watching how your smaller frame practically drowns in the fabric and brushes against the softness of your thighs. There’s a hint of domesticity in a sight like that, one that he’s longed for since losing his family. It brings out a whole new side to him and he’s stubborn to let it go.

“Plus, all the Spiders wear their suits 24/7 so it’s even weirder that I’m only in a shirt!” You don’t seem to notice how lost in thought he is, how much your words are impacting him. “...so how about getting me one of those nano-suits? That way I don’t have to worry about bothering the seamstress for the fifth time this week…”

Miguel’s hands pull you closer, cradling the back of your neck as his thumb fiddles with the small tear against your throat. “Mm…no, nanotech isn’t super reliable…” His hand drifts down and cups over one of your tits, “and I’m not letting anyone see what’s mine under here.” He squeezes gently, watching avidly as your lips part with pleasure.

“Yes, but–”

“No ‘buts,’ honey. This isn’t up for discussion. You know exactly what I’m talking about…”

It’s true, you’ve seen the risk of technologically powered nano-suits first-hand when Miguel gave the Spiders a glimpse of his impressive *cough* stature *cough* during a debriefing meeting.

Needless to say, he was the talk of the city for reasons other than being the grumpy boss…

“Okay, fine. But still…I’m serious about the suits.

That’s when you established the first ground rule of the relationship: no ripping suits unless there’s another one ready to go.

Sure, Miguel sulked about it for a week, making sure you saw his pout when he’d peel your suit off you, but he still made an effort to follow it, carefully evading the sharp tip of his claws when he’d get too eager to see what’s underneath.

You weren’t surprised when you returned to your apartment a few days later to boxes full of suits. Miguel stood there with a proud grin, fangs and claws ready, eyes glowing like rubies. You barely got in the door with your suit still intact.

You also made another rule: no touching during work hours.

You were surprised that you had to make the rule as Miguel is universally known as a strict boss, but similarly with your shredded suits, sometimes he just can’t help himself.

There were enough instances of almost being caught and having to scramble for one of his shirts (or tug on the biggest piece of suit left on the floor) because Miguel forgot to lock the door, that you had to put your foot down.

You grumble as Miguel attempts to pull you onto his lap.

“You know the rules, baby.”

His arms loop around you as you stand between his legs, “But it’s five o’clock!”

“Mm…check again.” He looks up at the holographic clock, you were right, it isn’t five. “It’s four fifty-five.” He raises a brow, unamused.

“Hm…” He yanks you against him causing you to fall over his seated figure, “Fuck it.”

“Miguel!”

—

Sure, being with him is hot and fun, but Miguel isn’t exactly ‘boyfriend’ material.

But it’s not like you’re any better.

Back in your dimension, you were never interested in relationships. You preferred to coast through flings and crushes rather than get emotionally involved with someone.

So this, whatever it is, is all new to you.

That being said, you had zero expectations when it came to this thing between the two of you. You’re like an eager puppy, enthusiastically taking everything he gives you and returning it tenfold. This could mean everything…or nothing.

You assume it’s been a while since Miguel has been with anyone. He’s…hesitant with you, sometimes, like he’s holding a part of himself back. Like it would be too much if he were to fully commit to you and show you what he wants deep down. There’s a constant push and pull with Miguel and it’s either very intense or barely there at all.

It’s a dynamic you’ll never get used to.

Sometimes you spend hours curled up on his lap, content with enjoying his company without a word exchanged between the two of you as he works on his computer, matching anomalies to dimensions and answering messages from different Spiders.

It’s peaceful and oddly domestic. You can almost forget about the collapsing multiverse, the worries that loom over all Spiders, and pretend it’s just you and him.

But then, there are the other times.

Moments that you’d like to forget.

Sometimes he needs space. He needs time to methodically plan out missions and brood in his office until it gets late enough that you know he isn’t coming to your apartment.

Sometimes he disappears for days, or even weeks at a time, never giving you a hint of where he’ll be, just an, “I’ll be back,” thrown over his shoulder. And then you’re left at the entrance as he shuts the door behind him, desperately waiting for him to return so you can be happy again.

You don’t know why he turns cold, and you’ll probably never find out because he doesn’t talk about his past.

It could be your fault.

You never ask.

You never push him to tell you about that little girl whose photo floats on his desktop, or the ring that sits in a drawer right beside his side of the bed.

Sometimes you wonder if you should. If that’s what you’re supposed to do in a ‘relationship’ like this. If you deserve even a crumb of vulnerability from him. But you’re too afraid to lose the fragile thing you have.

You left everything for Miguel. Without him, you’d just be a girl floating in a sea of spiders.

For some reason, you’d rather constantly be on the edge of your seat than lost without him. Because that’s how it would end. You convince yourself that the good times outweigh the bad.

Your infatuation blurs the blue waves and disperses the confusion and hurt until it barely feels like a pinch. He buries your seeds of worry with delicate kisses and numbs the creeping feeling of defeat with the heat of his touch.

With every cold shoulder comes a warm embrace, and you’ll wait weeks in the chill if it means you’ll be in his arms again.

—

Hobie is back, again, despite claiming to quit a couple of weeks ago. Always expect the unexpected with Hobie because consistency is not in his (very British and barely decipherable) vocabulary.

“Oi, Black-Widow, long time no see, eh?” His eye must’ve caught on to your new outfit, a custom dark-gray suit with nano-tech details. Miguel finally reimbursed you after carelessly shredding through your one and only suit.

It’s really nice, and you’re finally more recognizable with this one than the old red and blue traditional you sported before. You turn, spotting his iconic hair and piercings.

“Hobie! You’re back!” You practically jump into his arms, and he catches you easily. “Where’ve you been?”

“Ah, you know, here and there.” A cleared throat echoes through the room and he sets you down on your feet before slightly stepping away from you. Right, you’re still in his office. Whoops.

“Brown.” Miguel acknowledges Hobie, barely, despite talking directly to him. Hobie looks between the two of you, picking up on the change almost immediately. Whatever he’s thinking, he doesn’t show it.

“O’Hara.” He replies with an amused expression.

“Ready to get back to work?”

He shrugs, clearly not shaken in the slightest. “S’why I’m here, innit?”

“Good. Go report to Drew, you’ll be leaving in 20.”

“Right…” Eyes back on you. “I’ll see you later, then?”

“Yeah, we can catch up later! Be safe.”

“Will do, Spider-Woman.” You catch Hobie sending Miguel a teasing smirk as he draws away from the two of you and leaves the room. 

Freaking bugger, he’s trying to rile him up!

“I don’t like that guy.” He says it after a few seconds of silence.

You sigh, “I know.”

You turn to face him, meeting his signature scowl as he continues to glare at the door.

“With you.”

“I know.”

—

You’re still trying to do things your way, which, in your opinion, is the right way. And Miguel is still webbing you to any convenient surface and telling Parker to watch over you so he can get back to work.

“Not today, sweetheart.” You tug against the wisps of glowing red webs, nearly growling in your struggle. He’s clearly upgraded their strength after you’ve been able to escape and secretly tag along behind him.

“Wait, but, Miguel–!”

“This operation is especially sensitive. I can’t have you window shopping in a crumbling mall again.”

“That was one time! And we weren’t even on a mission.”

He raises an accusing brow, “Exactly.” He starts to walk away, ignoring your groaning and moaning. “Don’t forget you’re still on thin ice after you disobeyed orders last time.

“Ugh! C’mon, that was eons ago. I think I’ve proven myself.” He walks away, clicking a few buttons on his watch before a portal appears.

“Yeah, on unauthorized trips.”

“Still!”

“Brown, you ready?”

Hobie pushes off the wall he is leaning on and gives Miguel a teasing salute, “Aye-aye, sir.”

“What?! I’m stuck over here, but he gets to go?” The Brit sends you a teasing wink.

“He’s dispensable, cariño.”

“Ouch.”

You look over to the other side of the room where Peter sits.

“Okay, and what about him?”

“He's on babysitting duty.”

“Really? We’re still on this?” You raise an annoyed brow.

Peter holds his hands up in surrender, “Don’t look at me, look at your boyfriend. You’re not the only one suffering from this arrangement.”

“Boyfriend? More like father…” You mumble grumpily.

Hobie’s mouth quirks up, “Father? More like d-”

“Don’t fucking finish that sentence, Brown.” Of course, this doesn’t discourage him, if anything, the low growl only makes him smile wider. Miguel sighs, releasing the sudden tension from his body with a quick roll of his shoulders. “Alright, we should be back in a handful of hours.” He begrudgingly looks over at his mission partner, “Let’s go.”

“Okay, call me if you need help!” You yell as Hobie disappears into a flash of neon lights and pulsing sounds.

Before Miguel follows and slips through the portal, he stops and looks back, not at you, but at your babysitter, “And Parker,” He pulls his mask on, always ready for battle, “Make sure she behaves.”

“Oh, come on–”

Peter grins and sends Miguel a half-hearted thumbs up, “You got it.”

[kujakumai]

would you like to elaborate on the "catastrophic mommy issues"? I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on that lol

Thief King is a child raised by a mass of vengeful tortured souls in the ruined basement where they all died, all of whom are in effect a stand-in for family/community/parents. They are all TKB has left, and they are highly protective of him; they seem not entirely within their right minds, not capable of competent childcare, and they give him explicit instructions on how to destroy and take over the world, which he follows enthusiastically.

I think about this a lot, like a lot a lot, and while we don't see much I think its gotta be a very tangled dynamic. When writing him I tend to use "mom issues" or general references to his mom as an emotional stand in because I think she's probably the most likely person he'd remember clearly when he needs a real face, but that's not necessary. All of Kul Elna is Mom for these purposes.

There is a lot going on here, for example:

>Kul Elna does not seem to leave the temple unless accompanied, or at very least they prefer to stay there. This means TKB probably spent a significant portion of his childhood in the same ruins and possibly the same room where he watched everyone die. Cool! Great!

>Kul Elna appears to be only partially corporeal, limited in their ability to do much besides menace, and TKB says they are "in hell" (unclear what that means). I do not think they are up to the daily tasks of feeding, bathing, or taking care of a small child. I think he probably grew up as an urchin mainly in squalor.

The closest real-life analogue to this is, probably, simply a child in the care of someone who is ill or disabled such that they cannot effectively take care of even themselves without support; so you have a situation where no one has done anything wrong, and this family loves each other very much, and the only real culprit is the society that failed them. But you're still going to end up with a kid who is not getting their needs met, is in a situation that is often stressful and sometimes scary, and that will lead to a rapid Adultification where the kid takes on the role of steward without ever having a proper childhood.

>The Zork-raising instructions were given to TKB by Kul Elna. He tells us this. I am less concerned by Kul Elna's obviously Zork-influenced plan to destroy everything than I am its effect on a 16 year old boy who loves them very much because they're all he has left in the entire world. When did they bring this up? Is it recent? Has it been an ongoing plan for years--has TKB effectively been raised on the idea that he is to be Egypt's own destined apocalypse maiden? How fucked up would that be?

Fandom is hesitant, I think, to ascribe anything malicious to Kul Elna or suggest that their relationship with TKB is sinister--which, for the record, I don't think it is, I think this fucked-up little family has nothing but love for this kid in the depths of whatever humanity they have left--because Kul Elna gets such an unjust treatment in canon it makes us incandescent. Yet the same would apply to TKB--if they want the world in ruins and him at the top, how could he even think anything different? After everything the pharaoh did to them, and to you, of the life they deprived you of? Impossible to suggest something different. You can't tell him they're wrong. What's that old softer world bit; I am a pacifist, and I will be a pacifist until I die, or someone threatens my mother.

>TKB does not need survivors guilt to be an unfailingly loyal Mama's Boy to his ghost family (Ghost's Boy?) but he's got to have it. A simultaneous immense guilt for getting out when no one else did; the immense loss of being left behind, like they all went to become this without him; the weight of being the only one left, the only one who can take revenge not only for you but for them, and if you fail then no one will remember any of their names, or yours. One chance. Avenge them or die a nobody. Don't fuck this up. It's your responsibility, like it or not, because no one else can help, and no one else can help because of what your enemies did to them, which is why you need to do it. It's almost self-justifying.

If you want me to editorialize, I don't think he actually cares much about ruling the world, nor does that goal make sense. I think in the back of his little brain he thinks that if he wins he finally gets to join them somehow.

tldr; I think TKB's relationship with whatever the hell Kul Elna has going on is way, way more complicated and nuanced than even he is consciously aware of and you can love someone very much and still fuck them up immensely (arguably a major them of ygo itself). TKB's has such catastrophic mommy issues he literally tries to end the world. We are talking literal apocalyptic mom issues. Cataclysmic.

[19burstraat]

queering futurity in crooked kingdom

if I had any real time for this (I do not) I'd be tempted to write a real essay about it, but I have a dissertation and two other real essays for my actual degree, so let's do a bad tunglr bullet point analysis. I'm... largely generalising and paraphrasing here, and I suspect this has a billion things to iron out or that I forgot about, but I hope this might be a bit interesting regardless of how much you may or may not know abt queer literary theory lmao.

in extreme short, there is a subset of queer theory around what is, in essence, queer time. there is a heteronormative future/'futurity', and it is marriage, children, a good job, a nice house, and dying at a good age after a fulfilling life. queer* and trans people both reject and often cannot access this: plenty couldn't/cannot get married or have children, or had to surpass lots of obstacles to do so, many queer and trans people were or are killed young, or died prematurely in the aids crisis. and so we get queer temporality; a resistance to the heteronormative future that is refused or inaccessible, and to reproductive futurism; the concept that people value the future over the present... and this manifests in kicking back against things like the symbolic 'child' as a representative of futurity. not real children, but empty platitudes like think of the children! think of the future for your children! there can also be a development of a death drive, which is sometimes literal and sometimes metaphorical, which is, again, basically a rejection of 'the future'.

while the grishaverse doesn't have homophobia as such, you can still do queer readings, bc it is ofc influenced by our world, by virtue of being Written By A Person From Our World. and especially in kerch, there's still stuff like patrilineal inheritance... buuuut reproductive futurity & friends are very deliberately destroyed by the end of crooked kingdom. mostly by the usual culprit (taps sign that says IT'S KAZ AGAIN LOL) but by the narrative and the other characters as well. walk w me! I don't think this is a real analysis more just a lot of Thoughts but... nvm

*used here as an umbrella term since the theory I'm pulling from is the field of queer theory

the two men (van eck and rollins) who are most concerned with reproductive futurism (having heirs and a legacy, 'building something that will outlast them'), are promptly buried under the rubble of their building efforts by our usual culprit. kaz uses the mentality of legacy and lineage against them both; he kidnaps van eck's pregnant wife to use as a bargaining chip, and he uses rollins's son and heir against him, because he knows what's most important to these men is their line, their work being handed down. he deduces that rollins has a son through rollins' vanity around building something to 'last', and his naming of the kaelish prince. rollins is literally themed around monarchy and descent; the king of the barrel, the kaelish prince, the emerald palace. kaz, for his part, is the bastard of the barrel. the illegitimate son, not produced by any conventional family structure, ketterdam his mother and profit his father... and therefore he is the perfect person to blow up this imagined monarchy

wylan is rejected by van eck for his disability, for being supposedly incapable of continuing his father's legacy; and so we gather that the actual child doesn't matter to van eck, it's what The Child represented to him, which was the future of the van eck company. the illegitimate kaz restores van eck's disowned son to the succession through sheer trickery, and jan van eck's trading empire is succeeded by his son he attempted to reject, and his farm-boy barrel-tough boyfriend. they bring home the first wife that van eck had committed, for failing to produce the 'perfect' heir. no perfect heteronormative future here!

(also by virtue of wylan and jesper being a mlm couple, there is now way less emphasis that can be put on the idea of biological children 'continuing' the line, and it somewhat stops the expectation that ruined wylan's life from being passed down)

the two m/f couples are also very distant from this idealised reproductive futurity. matthias dies, ruining any idea of a 'conventional' future he could have had with nina, and while his death is generally more about the extremist brainwashing stuff explored w the drüskelle, it does blow to shreds that futurity even more, and nina's power is also a very literal HEY GUYS. LET'S THINK ABOUT DEATH... plus she leaves ketterdam to take matthias to be buried at the end of the book.

kaz and inej both do very dangerous jobs and separate for long periods of time. they may marry or they may not, they may have children or they may not, they may be physical with one another or they may not. it doesn't really matter; they'll try, but we don't get to find out how far they may or may not get, which honestly I kinda like. their future is open, the river running carrying inej to the sea. also, inej makes an explicit rejection of this kind of 'normal' future:

So he wasn’t fit for a normal life. Was she meant to find a kindhearted husband, have his children, then sharpen her knives after they’d gone to sleep? How would she explain the nightmares she still had from the Menagerie? Or the blood on her hands?

we don't really know whether or not kaz as a character is queer (I do not think kaz knows either lol) but it doesn't really matter, you can still read him as a queer figure both a) just if you want to! and b) in this sense of queer temporality, bc he's the crux of a lot of it. we already covered the bastard thing and his happy habit of kicking reproductive futurism when it's down, and as Edelman says: 'If the fate of the queer is to figure the fate that cuts the thread of futurity...' well, kaz 'build something new. watch it burn' 'he knew exactly what he was going to leave behind: damage' brekker is our man!

he does not give a single flying fuck about the future. he destroyed van eck and rollins' legacies, and he'll do that shit again. he doesn't have enough of an ego to consider a 'legacy' for himself besides destruction, which is a rejection of a legacy in itself. his plans for the future amount to fucking shit up and making a bunch of money to use to do more damage, until he gets shot/stabbed/hanged/drowned/whatever, which he constantly anticipates.

kaz also has a massive distrust and disdain for traditional family structures, because he's seen them crumble twice; his actual family are all dead, and the hertzoon con was built on creating a convincing family mode to lure them in. "my mother is ketterdam, she birthed me in the harbour; my father is profit, I honour him daily" is a sneer at paterfamilias type families where the mother is there to just give birth and the father is the head of the family, to be honoured and served, rather than loved. he also has zero sympathy for the 'think of the children!' thing, bc he knows it's disingenuous; who thought of him? no one. rollins was happy to con kids with the false promise of family and safety, and all the people he paid off were happy to turn the other way. was there no one to look after you? no, there wasn't. his mother is ketterdam: filthy, feral ketterdam. no nurturing mother has he!

So he threatens Alby and Hanna with no qualms, because while he doesn't actually ever intend to hurt children (...not physically anyway, apparently upsetting them is fair game FJJFJD), he knows the power of the threat— the idea of the child— is often more impactful than the actual act itself. ("Inej, I could only kill Pekka’s son once. He can imagine his death a thousand times.") it certainly works on rollins and van eck! he'll make you think of the damn children alright!

inej takes direct action to defend actual children, not just the idea of them, and then we hear in rule of wolves she's hated by the kerch government for it because she's fucking with their profits. (look also to how they flapped about searching for wylan, one rich man's kid, and are completely useless about hundreds of forced indentures. what a surprise...)

she reunites with her parents, but she worries persistently about whether or not they will accept her for who she has become, and we are never quite told whether or not they do. we like to think so, but we don't actually know. and although she gets to see her parents again, her future is on the wraith, not with them.

most people have dead or splintered families, actually. only inej has both parents, and for three - four years, they didn't have a daughter.

The general proximity to death in general is very potent; nina's power, kaz's whole backstory, the camping out in a graveyard. jesper's recklessness and love for fights, inej being ready to die rather than be a captiver again and kaz's response to that being 'not just yet', rather than not at all...

all following into the whole no mourners, no funerals thing!!! the fact that they know they won't be remembered or cared about if they die!!!

Edelman: 'Choosing to stand, as many of us do, outside the cycles of reproduction, choosing to stand, as we also do, by the side of those living and dying each day with the complications of AIDS, we know the deception of the societal lie that endlessly looks toward a future whose promise is always a day away.'

SOC:

Inej's mother and father might still shed tears for the daughter they'd lost, but if Inej died tonight, there would be no one to grieve for the girl she was now. 

“No mourners, no funerals. Another way of saying good luck. But it was something more. A dark wink to the fact that there would be no expensive burials for people like them, no marble markers to remember their names, no wreaths of myrtle and rose.”

pick up what I'm putting down guys please please I don't have time to tease this out properly but like. I think kaz and wylan are the linchpins here. (again)

[teencopandthesourwolf]

so i'm supposed to be working on my sterek wip—and i am! i wrote about 1k today—but bc of all you lovely mutual's and folk i follow now also into buddie (main culprits being @inell @rosieposiepuddingnpie @sortasirius and @angela-feelstoomuch) and ofc bc of bi!buck confirmed, i've started ploughing through 911 over the last few weeks like a bloodhound chasing a rabbit through the woods and have consequently, inevitably, started a buddie wip. fml. anyways, it's all your lot's fault so here, have just under 1k of my first buck pov buddie quarantine wip and everyone pls forgive my adhd writing brain lol.

.

Eddie was so fucking drunk. And it wasn't really either of their faults.

Because daytimes? When they weren't on shift? They were easy.

In the daytime there was just so much stuff to do with Christopher. So many games to play and so many cool things Buck was finding he could teach the little guy. And there were things that Christopher was teaching Buck, too, like, did you know that a crocodile can't stick out its tongue? Because Buck didn't, not until Christopher told him. And how cool is that?

The three of them—Buck, Christopher and Eddie—had started a Strip Jack Naked tournament and they now played it every night that he and Eddie were home, just before bath and bedtime stories. Turns out Christopher loved card games, and loved the rude name given to Buck and Maddie's childhood favourite even more, because what ten year old wouldn't? There was obviously zero stripping involved; Buck didn't even know why it was called what it was called, only that it was super fun, and just about easy enough for Christopher to learn but not so easy he'd get bored too fast, y’know? And what was funny was that the little dude hadn't even won a single round yet, and that somehow hadn't seemed to deter the slugger in his efforts one bit. Quite the opposite, actually. He'd warned, “Just you two wait,” and had this look on his face that said he was determined to become a grandmaster and beat Buck at his own game—or, even better, beat his Dad and win the prize of Eddie having to tidy Christopher's room for a week (a suggestion of Buck's that Eddie had not been overjoyed about).

In turn, Buck and Eddie had now lost countless games of Mario Kart to the kid; been repeatedly humiliated at Pictionary (the kiddie version); and each had the least amount of kudos points for Misfits, a game that Eddie apparently used to play with his sisters. It was another drawing-type one, where each player took a body section on their turn—head, torso and arms, or legs and feet—and then folded the paper over to hide the result until everyone was done and Christopher would unfold the paper and they'd all cry with laughter at the results. Misfits didn't even technically have any winners or losers, but hey, try telling Christopher that.

Evenings, though? The few hours left between Christopher's bedtime and Eddie and Buck turning in for the night? They were tougher.

Tough on Buck, at least.

See, he'd had this dream, a few weeks back. A dream about—well.

About Eddie.

In the dream, Buck had been washing the dishes in Eddie and Chris's apartment after Eddie had made another attempt at cooking his abuela's delicious Barbacoa recipe (Buck had tasted the real deal once when Isabel had come to stay and Eddie had invited Buck over to dinner), and Eddie had suddenly crowded into him from behind, crushing the length of his body up against Buck's back and reaching around to circle soft but firm hands around Buck's wet wrists. Startled and confused, Buck had open opened his mouth to say something when Eddie had placed his hot mouth onto the sensitive spot on Buck's neck, just below his right ear and—

Buck had woken abruptly, writhing and twitching and groaning, jizz spilling all over his freshly changed bed sheets.

After that, evenings were a challenge.

They were now made up of all the usual fun and dumb stuff that Buck and Eddie got up to, plus the occasionally deeper topics in their lives that they both seemed to struggle with but tried their best to share with each other, but there was also Don't look too long at Eddie's hands, and Don't look at Eddie's mouth while he speaks, and Don't check out Eddie's ass in those jeans I'd told him he should definitely buy when the shops were still open and the world hadn't yet gone to shit and I wasn't losing my damn mind.

Buck had moved into Eddie and Chris's place when Quarantine hit because it had just made sense, and over the course of the last six months he had somehow managed to fall in lust with his best friend.

So, times when they both had tomorrow off work, and when the confinement got to be a little too much, they would drink. Sometimes a little too much. One of them always stayed relatively sober though, just in case Chris needed something in the night, and tonight, Buck had been allowing Eddie to enjoy himself because the guy hardly ever really let his hair down, and he deserved to.

Eddie got giggly when he drank Tequila, Buck noticed.

They'd already sunk a few beers prior to cracking open the bottle of Cazadores Reposado, and after Buck had stopped at two shots but Eddie had continued, Eddie had become progressively loose and was now starting to giggle like a frickin schoolgirl. Which, embarrassingly, seemed to be doing things to Buck—not that Buck had a thing for school girls, jesus no, it was just that Eddie sounding so soft and vulnerable and happy was something that apparently really did it for Buck.

Fuck his life.

The guy also got very touchy-feely on tequila, too.

They'd migrated from the kitchen table to sitting so close to each other on the sofa that they were permanently touching, as well as all the times Eddie kept nudging his shoulder further into Buck's and squeezing his hand on Buck's knee. Then his thigh.

Seriously, fuck Buck's life.

The way Eddie had gotten so comfortable with touching Buck was becoming a majorly uncomfortable situation for Buck to have to deal with. Not because Buck didn't want the attention, but because he really fucking did.

And that was a problem, for a few reasons.

Reason one was that Buck wasn't gay, and didn't really understand these feelings he was having.

Reason two was, as far as Buck knew, Eddie wasn't gay either.

Reason three (and Buck's biggest fear) was Buck being terrified of losing what he had with Eddie. He loved Eddie, and Christopher, and he was pretty sure they loved him back—and he certainly wasn't about to let his rabid and confusing libido ruin any of that.

Drunk Eddie, though? It seemed Drunk Eddie really had it in for Buck tonight.

.

fingers crossed i can finish it before buck goes insane! xp

[numbuh424]

Hello! I really love your Death Note art!! Especially your blog header. I saw it and thought it was so cool how you copied the manga style!! Your posts about it say they're you're Death Note OC? Do you have anymore info you can share about them or previous posts about them? Are they a Death Note user? I'm really curious cause the art is so cool and I love reading about people's OCs. That's all, thanks for all the cool art you make!

Hello!! Thank you so much for enjoying my art 🙏 And thank you for asking about my OC! I've never really talked about her publicly before just cause I've never really... Made an OC before? So this ask made me really happy 🥹 I'll try to keep this short but it definitely won't be lol because I don't know when I'll ever get to talk about her again.

Years ago I had a plot stewing in my head for a story where Near shuts down the L successor program, steps down as L, and puts the title to rest. It takes place a year after the A-Kira story, which is around 10 years after Death Note's main story.

The idea was that someone began exposing Wammy's for their covered-up misdeeds and the fact that this is where successors of L were being raised. Because of that information being leaked, Wammy's House becomes unsafe for everyone in it.

OC talk under the cut 🙏

Apart from needing an antagonist who leaks all this information, I also needed a character who was there during the years Near wasn't to fill in the gaps for him and lead him to the culprit.

All the major information about her is here on this OC character profile I made a while back. Lee honestly began as a general persona/self-insert that I use whenever I want to draw myself. I still often use her as my persona when I make silly doodles and whatnot. However, as a Death Note OC, I've really lost control of her and she has just gone on to take a life of her own lol

Lee comes from Wammy's House and entered when she was 12, a lot later than the rest. She first arrived only months before L died and Near and Mello left to hunt Kira. Though gifted with photographic memory, she could never really make it into the successor program through that alone. Despite this, she dedicated her years at Wammy's to pursuing the title against all odds, only to come up short every single time until she finally graduated. Knowing she wasted years pursuing the title, she grew bitter towards L and the program and left the orphanage to pursue an art career like she originally wanted.

She became an art teacher and kept her distance from anything related to the crime/police/investigators. Unfortunately, as fate would have it (fate being me, the person controlling everything about her life), she became a witness to a crime where she used her skills to draw the culprit. Her sketch is what gets the man arrested and what causes the police to recruit her. Though she always said she'd abstain from detective work after wasting her time on it at Wammy's, she wants to be useful so she agrees to work part-time lowkey.

She doesn't like having the spotlight on her, as years of fighting for it in her youth have worn out her motivation for being seen. She keeps her past under lock and key and lies about it constantly, but her memory allows her to keep track of her lies easily.

Her role in the story is that her past identity (her real name and lived experiences) is stolen and used to frame her as the person leaking information about the orphanage - an "insider tells all" who wants to destroy L, Quillish Wammy, and the orphanage. Because Lee is so detached from her past, at first she lets the culprit just use her old identity. It's not her anymore, anyway, so why bother her about it? It's only when the culprit starts murdering people and throws her current identity under the bus that she starts sweating. There's a criminal investigation underway and she's their only suspect.

Near and his team know she's not behind any of this; they're really the only ones who know for sure because of his ties to Wammy's (it's kind of a reverse L and Light situation where he's sure it's not her but everyone else is out to get her lol). However, she can definitely help point them in the direction of the person who's behind it all.

The problem is Lee's animosity towards the L program extend to Near, who is the only L she really knows considering the real L died a few months after she arrived at the orphanage. Near tries to bring her on board for the case since she's the best lead they could possibly ask for, but because of her distaste towards L and the orphanage, she refuses to join at first. The culprit going one step further and framing her for murder is what pushes her to finally go with Near and his team because her life has fallen apart and the police are coming to get her.

She really doesn't wanna help L and joins mostly for self preservation. She kinda gets a kick out of the fact that she has information the world's greatest detective can't get from anyone else. It's childish of her, but what's Death Note without a bit of childishness.

Also, to answer your other question, she's not a Death Note user. I certainly intended for her to be back then (hence the art I made for her where she has the notebook) but the story I came up with has undergone dramatic changes since. She still very much works with pen and paper, just not in that way anymore lol

That's most of the basic information about her and her role in the story I may or may not ever write. I honestly have the broad strokes mapped out already, including the ending.

Spoilers (for a story that only exists in my head lol), Near has Wammy's House demolished and has a new institution built for the kids. The successor program is dissolved and he has Lee head the art department since she was already an art teacher before everything happened.

Thanks so much for asking about her 🙏

[lavenderskye29]

Hi I found your Page and I love plum princesses and MQ

I have a question

What would they do if they found out that there's queen was abused mentally and didn't have a good relationship with her family.

And al'so if one of her brothers was very voilnt to her

Like the notice that there queen not back yet but they smell blood and they run to there wife and see her with a broken leg after getting pushed down some stairs ( I just broken toes with my family most of them them cuz I came out as she/her trans and it wasn't pretty but I am doing ok I have my girlfriend to help me or my fiance as I should call her lol) but what would they do to them and how would they get the reader home safe. And how would they take care of her.

(First off, I am so sorry this has happened to you. You don't deserve that. I hope you're safe and away from your family. If ever in trouble please seek help, here is the link for the domestic violence hotline.)

Monkey Queen and Macaque would not let Peaches go after capturing her, so there would be no incidents during her time on the mountain... but in the village, when the ladies are posing as monkeys and they come for one of their weekly visits and they see their soon-to-be wife crying and quivering in her bedroll, is when something would happen.

They don't understand at first what happened so they rush over chattering worriedly, looking to inspect the pathetic lump that was Peaches curled up on the floor. Being warriors, the ladies knew what inflicted injuries looked like and the minute they saw her swollen, bruised face peeking out from under the thin sheet she called a blanket, they lost it. It took every ounce of self-restraint to remain in their disguises and to not burn the whole village down to ash. Macaque had to convince Wukong to wait so they could see who the real culprits were before dishing out a punishment. So they waited, curled up against a whimpering Peaches as time passed.

As evening approached, they didn't expect to hear the sound of stomps approaching Peach's room from within, and when they noticed their beaten love trying to curl up deeper into her covers and the quivering of her body start to increase violently, they knew they caught their culprit. As the thin sliding paper door slammed open, they could immediately tell it was one of Peaches family members by the shared features in their face... but whereas Peaches was nearly always smiling or laughing when her furry companions saw her, this person was only snarling at the room. Malice radiated from the person.

The monkeys bristled when the person shouted at Peaches to get up, but nothing compared the anger they felt when the family member approached with a heavy wicker broom and started whacking at the lump that was Peaches and at them. That was enough to send Wukong and Macaque in a vicious flurry of rage. They lept at the attacker, tearing the human limb from limb, and bathing in the blood-curtling screams that ripped from their throat. It didn't take long for the human to die, but the sounds of pain did bring the rest of the family to come rushing in. Wukong and Macaque wasted no time in continuing the slaughter, but not before making the head of the family beg for forgiveness.

By the time they were done, the house was covered in blood and torn bits of flesh. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of giggling coming from Macaque and Wukong. At least that's what they thought until another sound entered the fray... a quiet, sadder sound that clawed at the hearts of the demon warlords... Peaches' light sobbing.

She had been conscious for it all.

Macaque rushed back to Peaches whereas Wukong faltered a bit. Surely, Peaches would fear them now... Would hate them... this was going to take a lot of work to fix on their part. Wukong was going through scenario after scenario in her head as she slowly made her way back to Peaches room of how their little human would react to them. Imagine Wukong's surprise however when from the hallway, she sees Peaches practically clinging to Macaque for some sort of comfort in all the blood; the only spot of white in this ocean of red. The sight made Wukong pause. Suddenly everything came to light for her, and a wide, sharp-toothed grin split across her face.

After that day, Peaches would have no worries... and no use for anyone else but her knights in shining armor.

[tubbytarchia]

i think a lot about scott in regards to both jimmy and pearl. like. i feel like not a lot of scott fans want to talk abt the fact that he’s actually very clever and manipulative and cowardly and just not very good!!

and it’s just something abt the fact that jimmy and pearl are some of the most loyal and loving people on earth. and yet they didn’t want him back. when scott asked jimmy to kill tango of all people. he said you should run. when he told jimmy to say i love you he said you have 30 seconds. and then it happened again. in secret life he told pearl he loved her and she wouldn’t say it back

i am just so in love with it. the fact that scott used jimmy and pearl and then tried to win them back after they didn’t need him anymore. the fact that he left his first two beloved partners in the series with a permanent bad taste in their mouth. i think he changed both their characters irreversibly and that they did the same to him and i needddd jimmy and pearl to talk about it

Yeees anon YESSSSSS you understand...

It's nothing I haven't expressed already, but the combination of serious topics like manipulation attributed to a minecraft series and Scott being the culprit of it makes it kinda taboo to talk about for a lot of people so I'm not surprised that people don't! (Scott being part of LGBTQ and thus attributing negative traits to his character makes you "insensitive" and such, unless you turn it into an AU lol, then it's fine apparently) And if these people are here just for something carefree and the CCs more than the characters, that's absolutely fine! And as I've also said before, Scott is a very compelling character to me and I absolutely don't hate him no matter the things I think he's done to change Jimmy and Pearl for the worse. I wanna know who hurt him...

But as far as my perception goes of the characters etc, yeah, it's this. Scott is terribly clever and skilled and frightfully good at manipulating whether he always intends to or not (he's more or less admitted to it anyhow). He's not often explicit but the kind of language he uses around Jimmy makes Jimmy feel talked down to, or that he's to blame for things, etc, and then sweetens it up with claims of caring. Statements that basically go "I do this for your own good" and such. He was obviously more explicit about it with Pearl but that doesn't make it any better haha

Jimmy's attitude towards Scott after third life is such an interesting thing to analyze and I'm so happy of his feelings manifesting more. In Double Life Scott had it out for the ranch and ofc Jimmy did what he could to defend the ranch's image etc, but oh boy, the LimL "you have 30 seconds" moment... Also when Jimmy was about to kill Scott for the time that Scott promised him, Scott said "I love you" again and "it's fine even though you didn't say it back" (paraphrasing) and Jimmy just fucking stays silent before going "appreciate it" and shooting him. Very fire of him. That made me so happy lmao. And him taking gradual enjoyment out of hitting Scott in Secret Life (as he deserves to). And the further moments you brought up, and now what happened in Real Life even if it was a one-off SMP. I hope he keeps going like this lol

There is the time in Secret Life where Jimmy seems to project onto Pearl in telling her to attack Skizz and be mean about it, sigh..m they just need to sit down and talk. I need this so desperately. They just need to get talking and it'll all work out from there, they can do it, I believe in them...

Either way both of them refusing Scott's approaches is the best thing ever. Scott should team up with people like Gem more instead who aren't affected by his bullshit anyway and also just make for fun dynamics

[58sei]

The thoughts ran out of control so here’s more detective yomi

This one will contain a lot and I mean a LOT of rambling, the demons need to be let out…..

Contains some game spoilers for chap 5

I thought ab how yomi would climb the ranks of the WDO a bit more and I decided it was with the help of shinigami hitman. (Will get back to this later)

Some things to get out of the way first:

- Yomi’s past in this au. Yomi has always seen a lot of death happening around him since childhood so that’s why he doesn’t feel anything when it comes to the matter. I’m also thinking yomi’s childhood involved a lot of kill or be killed situations, so he develops that mentality down the line. Wherever he goes, death follows, and because his fate is so intertwined with death, it eventually leads up to him joining the WDO and finding the book of death.

- As for how he gets to the book of death, I’m honestly not sure how he manages to breach security. That or he was used in some sorta side experiment and given the book as one of the procedures by the UG but then he kinda just killed em and ran

- After he obtains the book of death he forms a contract. Shinigami hitman asks to see yomi’s life through to the end in return for his powers (bc why is this bitch always attracting death??). Also I want to just, make some slight altercations to the game lore here. In this universe the book of death can only be opened by those who are close to dying (less than 5 years left to live). People who have spiritual affinity like vivia can only see the death god inside and feel it’s aura, but cannot open the book. There is a chance they can open it, but only if shinigami hitman chooses to let them.

Ok with that out of the way, back to how yomi climbed the ranks with the help of his shinigami (calling him fake zilch for convenience). He uses fake zilch’s powers to solve mysteries (as well as crush those in his way). In a sense, he has already performed multiple detective deeds all in the span of less than a year, but because the culprits keep dying, there is no way to properly evaluate the things he did. But he DID solve the mystery and bc death has always followed him everywhere so people in the WDO’s just like “yeah checks out”. So with a lot and I mean a LOT of skepticism he gets promoted to a master detective and also earns the title of ‘grim reaper’ (this’ll be important later) in the process bc everywhere he goes someone dies.

I should reiterate that Yomi absolutely does not feel guilty when killing in the mystery labyrinth, in fact, he feels great about using it to find the culprits. 2 reasons. First, he believes the blood is on fake zilch’s hands bc yomi didnt actually reap the culprit’s souls himself. This view is heavily challenged in chap 4. Second, to him, he’s enacting justice on the guilty and he’s not in the wrong for doing that. Like the original yomi, he views justice in a very black and white way. Fake zilch has his own opinions on the matter, but he is far more interested to see Yomi’s story to the end to bother doing anything ab his behaviour. He only opens the mystery labyrinth for yomi if the case is very complicated (except master detectives take on a lot of absurd cases, so you know how that goes)

As for how he became number 1, he probably just murdered the former one like how his original killed Amaterasu’s old ceo. Then after murder he just, took no. 1’s position without anyone knowing. Not much thought put into this part yet sorry lol. Also I’d say the UG’s successful homunculus did not use the world’s brightest mind but rather the man most associated with death, bc they didn’t obtain no 1’s DNA, and while Yomi is intelligent he isn’t even a contender for the spot.

Circling back to the grim reaper title, it comes into play on the Amaterasu express. Yomi was not dispatched to kanai ward, the real trainee Yuma was sent, but Yomi drugged him and put him in the disconnected 5th car early on. He then asks fake zilch to take his memories after he locks himself into one of the toilet stalls in car 1. Wakes up later yali yali yada, the “where am I who am I” panic, sees his letter thing “oh I’m yomi hellsmile!!”, “wait how am I already on the express ??”, “ok whatever ig”, goes into car 2 and sees detectives, then intro scene. Except yomi isn’t a doormat (no hate to Yuma I love him actually) and has an attitude lol he probably starts bickering with aphex and both nearly get physical before shinigami (who’s now the hitman, who disguises as a diff MD) and melami restrain both of them 💀

Then everyone introduces themselves and the moment yomi says his name the other MDs are like hold tf up why is the grim reaper on the Amaterasu express with us?? So now the strange circumstance is the fact that yomi appeared instead of the trainee. Still the same “oh someone who shouldn’t be here is here” type mystery but slightly different. Suspicions rise and people are starting to get riled up in the express, but then shinigami eases it up and the MDs all realize that if the amnesiac before them actually is the WDO’s grim reaper then they’re in deep shit. (They are) cue rest of chap 0.

Also, during the entirety of the introduction up to yomi getting drugged and passing out in the bathroom, fake zilch is actually able to show himself. He just… doesn’t to act like they just formed a contract.

Yeah ok that’s ab it

[plutotimeslot]

forensic science class shenanigans

In Junior Year (3rd) of High School I took a forensic science class. Normally classes had around 30 kids, but this was a new class at the school so there was only 15 weirdos in this one.

Loved the class, loved the teacher, learned a lot. Here's what happened.

Found out how absolute shit human memory is

Found out what bugs will eat me when I die

CUE existential crisis

Talked A LOT about geometry and what blood spatters can tell you

Talked about how if you purposely use your nondominant hand to kill someone, you can tell they are using the wrong hand. (with blood spatter patterns)

Laughed about criminals' stupidity

Laughed about police's stupidity

Put fiber and our own hair under a microscope

Was able to (fairly) accurately determine if classmates had EVER dyed and/or bleached their hair before.

Got to find out that my town is into choking, they just aren't good at doing it safely.

CUE existential crisis

Got to hold a brain (a real one, VERY wrinkly VERY textured)

Got to hold a swollen heart (some sort of heart disease)

Got to hold lungs (VERY spongey)

Get to touch fat (slimy and greasy, ew)

CUE existential crisis

Decided I never wanted to smell formaldehyde EVER AGAIN

Got to collect evidence from a real crime scene my teacher put together for us in an empty class room.

There were bloody footprints from shoes she borrowed from a fellow teacher.

Gave a presentation on who was the culprit and why for our final.

In the presentation my friend presented the last few slides

At the same time as the presentation, a Senior event was happening (involving the whole school) so I'm Feeling 22 played over the loud speakers during our presentation.

As my friend was finishing the slide the song was on full blast so the end of our presentation went like:

"And Mr. C took the hammer," EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT "and he swung once," IF WE JUST KEEP DANCING "twice, three times!" LIKE WE'RE TWENTY TWO-O-O

Thanks Taylor, you really enhanced our forensic science final lol

[keep-the-wolves-close]

Steady Heart

Chapter 28: Achilles Heel

* Pairing: Slow-burn Kayce Dutton x OFC Stella Daniels

* Rating: M? (Still figuring out the rating system) (might eventually be M anyhow)

* Warnings: language, angst

* Word count: 1,867ish

I would love to give credits to @dameronscopilot and @deanscroissant for being sounding boards for me during this whole process, giving outsider insight, being cheerleaders, and allowing me to screech at them about things that have happened during the writing process. I seriously couldn't have gotten this far without y'all

Author's note: Okay, I lied. One more because I have an uneven number queued. Then I’ll follow the rules. Scouts honor lol. 🤓 Things are starting to ramp up, Kayce and Stella are finally coming back to some kind of normalcy. It’s been rough, but we’ll get there. Also, this is shorter than normal, but it worked well for splitting these events up. I hope y’all don’t mind, I hope everyone is enjoying so far! I hope you love this chapter as well!

“What! You told me you ran into him!” Ryan cried out.

“Okay I bent the truth! I’m sorry. I knew if I told you that 30 minutes ago, you would have burnt the whole state of Montana to the ground!” She defended herself.

All the men moved closer to her instinctually. Rip started in on her hard. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me when I picked you up?!”

“Because I wanted to tell everyone all at once, Rip!” Was he even listening?

He came back at her even angrier. “Bullshit! Were you gonna say anything at all?!”

“Yes! My god! I’m here aren’t I?”

Kayce targeted her next. “You’re only here because your brother and I made sure you’d come talk to my dad.”

John interrupted. “All of you quit!” He locked in on Stella. “What did he want?”

“I asked him and he said something about liking my property, yadda yadda, and got insulted when I asked who he was again and told me I work for a ranch that has started to annoy people. Then read me like an open book almost to every little detail about my life.” Stella crossed her arms and shook her leg. The memory of Malcolm’s unnaturally blue eyes staring into hers as he recited her information sent a chill up her spine.

“I told him I wasn’t interested in anything he had to offer. He said I was a soft spot for people here, which I beg to differ,” she focused on the floor, “but whatever. Then he said he would be seein’ me real soon. Whatever that means.” She looked back up at John and shrugged.

“So long story short, what I wanted to say was, I’m not sure Jenkins is our culprit for those cows being dead. Somethin’ about Malcolm and his brother doesn’t sit straight with me. He was fishin’ for somethin’, but I don’t know what.” Her cheeks were flushed by the time she was finished. Stella felt like she was on trial. Especially with the way everyone just looked at her angrily and didn’t say anything. “You can choose to believe me, or not, but I’m tellin’ you right now somethin’ ain’t right.”

“Damn it.” John looked to his son. “Kayce, what did you find out from Jenkins?”

Kayce watched Stella, who focused on John. She turned her body to face the patriarch, trying to pretend she was anywhere but in the room with them. He announced. “Wasn’t Jenkins.”

Rip mumbled a cuss to himself. That meant they were dealing with a different player; and that player was bigger, and seemingly interested in Stella.

“How do we know it wasn’t him?” John asked.

“I looked him in the eye and it wasn’t him.” Kayce made direct eye contact with his dad.

“I can also attest that he wouldn’t know the first thing about cows or how to kill them.” Stella added.

She finally locked eyes with Kayce. He looked tired. “You okay?” Everyone could tell there was something deeper behind her question. Even though it seemed like she wanted to be out of any room Kayce was in.

“It went fine.”

Stella scowled at him for ignoring her actual question.

“Let me talk to my son please.” John excused the three of them. Stella wasn’t sure what was going on, but if it meant she could escape, she’d take it.

Kayce stayed behind to talk to his father. At first they talked about something Kayce had done in war that had changed him forever. His heart raced just reliving the memory. If he could go back and have it happen differently, he would in a heartbeat. Kayce wanted to leave, but John stopped him.

“What’s going on with you and Stella?”

Kayce sighed. “Nothing dad.”

“Her looking like she was about to claw her way out of the window to get away when you went in on her says otherwise.” John leaned back against his desk smugly. He was almost certain he knew what was coming.

“There is nothing going on between Stella and I. Nothing.” He tried to be stern in his answer to get his dad to stop asking. He was confused as to what was going on himself. He had fucked up. Simple as that.

John stayed quiet and examined his son. Kayce’s face was flushed, and his voice let John know he was confused. If he didn’t know any better, he would say Kayce looked like he was going to panic. He looked like he was in love. That’s how he had looked when he found Evelyn.

Kayce couldn’t take the silence any longer. “Okay fine! We slept together. So what?”

‘Ah. There it was.’ John thought to himself as he breathed out a chuckle. This wasn’t when or how he thought this conversation would come up, but he knew it would cross him one day. “And when was that?”

Kayce looked down. “A few days ago.” He refused to tell his father that it was more than once.

“And you just got back from visiting with Monica? Now I understand why she wanted to leave so badly.” John worked out. He watched as his son squirmed. “How did things go with Monica, by the way? Especially with this new,” there was no real way for him to say this delicately, “development.”

“I don’t wanna talk about it dad.”

“But you’re gonna have to sooner or later.”

“She wants a divorce.”

“What for?”

“A lot of things.”

John crossed his arms. “What are you gonna do, son? Because that woman out there has stood behind you through thick and thin. Even after you broke her, she still made sure you were okay. Didn’t like that you ignored her actual question, but she still did it.”

Kayce got frustrated and slammed his hand against the door. “I don’t know! On one hand Monica is my wife, the mother of my son, the lov—,” he stopped himself. He didn’t know if he was choked up, or if he couldn’t actually bring himself to say it.

“— But?” John interrupted.

“I don’t know, dad. I just — I don’t know.”

Making it to the door, Stella started to pick up her pace. She thought she was home free when her feet hit the porch. She would have been if Rip’s rough hand didn’t grab her elbow. Her shoulders sagged. “Listen I know you’re both angry I didn’t tell you right away, but can one more person not be mad at me today?” She looked down at the floor of the porch. “I have Ryan double mad at me, you, probably Mr. Dutton. Kayce and I are weird right now…,” she trailed off. The list could go if she thought about it hard enough.

“Yeah we noticed.” Ryan informed her crossing his arms.

Stella pulled her lips in. She hoped she had hidden it better than that. ‘Great.’

“Was it really that noticeable?”

Ryan scoffed. “You looked like you wanted to be anywhere but where Kayce was.”

“You didn’t wanna be around him the other night. You were upset about somethin’.” Rip started to put two and two together out loud for Ryan. He didn’t want to be the one to spill the beans. “Somethin’ about you broke your own heart.”

“I was really hoping that you wouldn’t have remembered that.”

“What happened between you two?” Ryan asked. Stella remained quiet with her lips pulled in. “C’mon Stell. You gotta lay it out there at some point.”

She looked out along the dark horizon line and wished she could shrink herself. It was embarrassing enough to have the thoughts run through her own head, let alone say them out loud. Especially to her brother and a man she considered a brother.

“I thought something might have changed between us, but it didn’t. I was just a hopelessly hopeless romantic caught up in my own delusion.” She moved her hands in a ‘giving up’ motion. Her voice came out more quietly than before. “It doesn’t matter.” She stepped toward the stairs. “Can we be done here? Please?”

Kayce came out of the house looking flustered. His gaze landed on Stella and both of them seemed to stop breathing. “Can I talk to you?”

Stella breathed in. “I mean, no,” she blew the breath out, “but you’re gonna keep tryin’ until I let you. So I guess.” She crossed her arms and looked at the other two men. “Can you guys give us a minute? I’ll be right behind you.”

Ryan stepped forward and Rip reached out to stop him from getting too close. He threatened the man responsible for hurting his sister. “You hurt her even more, and everything else you’re going through will be the least of your worries.” Rip grabbed his shoulder to direct him to the horses.

Stella watched them trot off. Ryan gave her one last look and she nodded to him. It was quiet behind her, and she was half expecting Kayce to be gone when she turned around. Holding her head as high as she could, she pivoted around to face him. She fixed her glasses and sniffed. “Well, let’s have it.”

Kayce got a good look at her face. She looked humiliated. He had hurt her badly. He was afraid it was past the point of repair. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, me too Kayce.” She looked down, sullen.

“I shouldn’t have come onto you like that. We shouldn’t have done it at all. I ruined a perfectly good friendship.”

“Yeah I know it was a mistake. Is that all you wanted to say? Because I could live without the embarrassment of hearing, let's just pretend this never happened.”

“No. I wanted to tell you Monica and I decided to co-parent, but we can’t go back to each other.”

“Okay that’s great, but now I feel dirty. Like I was just a distraction, which I mean I was. A distraction for you at my expense. I just don’t know if I can get past that.”

Unbeknownst to the two of them, John had snuck out onto his porch to hear how this would play out.

Kayce started, “I understand, but—,” and Stella interrupted him.

“— Do you really have any grounds to stand on to place a ‘but’ in there? I was blinded by the feelings I’ve had for you since we were kids and somehow, whether you realized it or not, you used it to your advantage.” Her eyes stung. “I thought I was always safe with you.” She said in a small voice. “And to find out I wasn’t, hurts. I let you past everything I had put up.” John tilted his head to the side. She had a point. “So I’m gonna go. I just wanna be left alone.” She spun around to make her way down to the bunkhouse.

Kayce stood there defeated. He knew he’d fucked up big time. If she ever talked to him again, he would be surprised. He heard footsteps on the porch. He turned and saw his dad.

“So how are you gonna make this right, son?”

“I’m gonna respect her and leave her be. I’ve already done enough damage.” He walked off and hopped in his truck.

[aihoshiino]

chapter 128 thoughts!

a little late because i have been fighting for my life against sleepy bitch disease all week but HERE WE GO

Right off the bat, the little power level rankings for everyone are such a cute visual while also being a great way to quickly and immediately get across some super important and interesting info about everyone's capabilities going into the chapter. I won't comment on everything but there is some stuff I want to make a note of before going into things!

Ruby's acting skills being ranked as D and accordingly as her biggest weakness is pretty interesting. I was worried that might be left hanging but I'm glad to see the story continuing to acknowledge how much is riding on the movie's success and how Ruby's acting might not be able to bear that weight. That combined with One Other Thing really does have me start to seriously wonder if we won't have a lead actress switcharoo on our hands at some point in the future.

Melt's acting skill being ranked as B (the same level as Aqua, even!) made me go <3. He really has come such a long way from where he first started and the blood, sweat and tears he wrung out of himself during Tokyo Blade seems to have really paid off. Melt, my beloved!!!

Moving onto the chapter itself, I was really surprised to see Aqua playing Kamiki! I guess I shouldn't be with how hard that family resemblance has been played up but for some reason, I was really certain he was specifically playing Ryosuke, not Kamiki... I guess because it was originally stated he was 'the culprit'? Anyway, Aqua playing Kamiki is part of why I'm starting to wonder if either he or Ruby will end up backing out of their roles – having a pair of twin siblings play a real life couple who Definitely Fucked seems like the sort of things that uh, might put a dampener on the movie's intended reception, just from an in-universe perspective!

This chapter also finally gives us a name for the Crow Girl - Tsukuyomi! I felt SUCH a thrill when I saw her use that name because I had wondered last chapter if her pointed reference to the moon might be some indication that's who she was but at the time it felt like a stretch, so I didn't voice it. Gah, I should've put it in my chapter thoughts so I could be extra smug about calling it!

In general, I'm really surprised by how many of my long-term issues with OnK were specifically touched on in this chapter to a really eerily specific degree lol? But holy shit! Somebody actually acknowledging the huge bombshell of Aqua and Ruby's connection to Ai! Akane, specifically, finally fucking acknowledging that Ruby was also traumatized by her mother's death! Akane acknowledging Ruby exists at all!! Akane interacting with characters that aren't Aqua!!! Thank god!!!

I'm also becoming increasingly curious about the DVDs the kids saw. They're a pretty transparent retcon and I imagine we'll eventually see them for ourselves but I'm still itching to know wtf Aka was even cooking when he added them.

For all that was good about this chapter, though, I do have a pretty major issue with the way a lot of the emotional stuff is being skimmed over purely to not let the reader in on the content of the movie too early. This info isn't necessarily new to all the characters but there are some major bombshells about the culprit and Ai's relationship with him that we get no commentary on from the characters.

The biggest and most baffling missed opportunity here is Taiki, honestly??? Based on what Aqua says to him and the fact that Frill is going to be playing Airi Himekawa we can probably guess that her abuse of Kamiki will be laid bare in the movie. If that's the case then Taiki has just found out, possibly just from this fucking script, that his mother is a child rapist and he himself is a product of rape. The fact that we do not see any emotional response from him about this information beyond "that's on my mom you caught her slippin" genuinely fucking blows my mind! Completely insane!!! Was there really absolutely no space in the story for Taiki to have literally any time or room to process an incredibly traumatic dump of information like that???

that said, for my complaints... I won't pretend it didn't kick me in the gut to see Ruby all dressed up as Ai on that final page. Definitely her mom's daughter.

Break next week..........................................

[socialc1imb]

for your forgetten four au, when vio was killed how did they first react? did they suspect murder and try to find a culprit or were they too in shock to be thinking about that? was he still conscious when they got to him and was able to say anything before he died or was he already gone by then? has anyone gone into his room since? will there ever be a chance for him to become himself again?! aghh!!! so many questions!! i still want to know exactly what happened that night!!! who killed him and why!!!!! im obsessed!!! (also wouldnt it be crazy if blue was able to teach redead vio sign language like who knows it might work? maybe?!! or he might be too far gone to really create coherent messages... thats so sad!!! he must be so lonely not being able to talk to them even if his brain doesnt fully work anymore :(!!!

sorry if im being overwhelming!!! im just super invested in this & excited to see more!!!

oh boy, this is going to be a long post, I think! ;3 (no worries, lol, I love the questions!) Also, I'm not going to answer every single one because I wanna cover them in comic form later on, so keep an eye out!

The fact that Vio screamed when he died gave away the fact that someone had done this to him. They probably suspected murder as soon as the realization of what just happened set in, and after doing a little more investigating (seeing the shattered mirror, the glass being used as the weapon etc etc a lot of boring crime scene things), they were able to confirm that he was killed.

Since he was killed, they've been in his room only a handful of times, but since his funeral it's been left mostly untouched. They went in to clean up the glass and make it presentable, but everything else is practically the exact same as Vio left it.

There's nothing saying that Vio will be able to be brought back, but there's also nothing saying he can't. They hold out hope, whatever little of it they have left. They'll try as hard as they can to see if it's even possible.

Vio... is hard to explain. Because, yes, it's him, that's the real Vio who has returned, but he seems to be more of an echo of the real person, doing things here and there reminiscent of when he was alive. It's not that he can't communicate, it's almost as if he just... doesn't need to communicate in the same way as the others. He tends to observe and follow rather than give input. Basically, whether or not Vio is really Vio is up to your interpretation. Maybe it really is him, but maybe he's only a shell of what he once was. It depends on how you read the story.