#and it will hurt so fucking much

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *4*

Jason had been a little better recently. He had the pit better under control, even though it reared his head from time to time. But it was easier to talk with the bats... his family.

But B's staring was making his skin crawl. The big bad bat was staring him down for over ten minutes.

"What?!", his tone was harsher than he intended, but that wouldn't make him back down. The silence carried own for a few beats, before his fahter batman finally graced him with an answer.

"I spoke with Constantin... awhile ago", it almost sounded like he wanted to talk emotions. Which could just mean something bad.

It took some moments before B continued. The emotional talk theory sounded more and more likely.

"There could be a way to help with the pit madness." - Bruce lifted his hand to stop any Protest from Jason - "I just want you to consider it. We won't do anything without your permission. It wouldn't even work without it. The entity is strong, but it is confirmed that it isn't a danger, as long as we treat this the right way", if he didn't know the old man any better, he would have thought that he was just as businesslike as always. But his jaw was clenched, his fingers kept twitching ever so slightly. His father Bruce was nervous.

And that was enough to reign the pit in, that kept whispering how they still didn't accept him. But that didn't mean he liked this idea.

So his answer was nothing more than a non committed grunt, before he swung on the back of his bike. The old man would be alright to wait for a bit.

.

.

.

It took months before Jason brought the conversation back up. The pit had been a bitch to reign in the last few weeks and today he felt at least somewhat like himself again.

They spoke just a little bit about what would need to happen, but Jason felt like his time was running thin. He didn't care all to much about the details at the moment.

Constantin was ordered to the cave and the summoning was prepared. Now blood or sacrifice was needed, which made this magic bullshit at least a bit more tolerable.

Beside the Batman, Constantin and Red Hood was also Nightwing there. He didn't want any of his other siblings by his side. Not when he felt so easy to irritate.

The Magician began the ritual and in the circle formed a whirlpool of lazurus water. If Dick hadn't been standing behind him, he would have bolted.

But after just a few seconds emerged a white headed boy out of the pool. The portal closed and left a confused, floating boy behind.

But before Constantin or Batman could say a word, the green (Lazarus green!) eyes landed on him. The being gasped and flyed directly to him.

.

.

.

Danny had been minding his own business, free from rouges and king work for once. His finals stood right around the corner and he took the time off to learn.

But of course he had to be summoned in the only normal time he had. But since the energy felt familiar, he was to 90% sure that it should be sad trenchcoat man. So it should be important... hopefully.

As soon has he looked around he saw John and the Batman! But there was an energy that pulled his attention.

His eyes widened. This poor... Revenant? Halfa?? He wasn't sure, but! He was one of his people and it looked bad. And he seemed to be around his age, what made it so much worse.

Danny zoomed over to him, to have a better look. And that just made it worse.

"That looks bad... who did this to you?", he whisperd with a horrified glance at the chest of the other boy.

His core was slowly poisoned by his own ectoplasm and seemed like there was not much time left.

[inkskinned]

they want to talk about mental illness and acceptance and how everyone is a little ocd it's cute and quirky and their "intrusive thoughts" are about cutting their hair off and you say yours are about taking a razorblade to your eye and they say ew can you not and everyone is a little adhd sometimes! except if you're late it's a personality flaw and it's because you are careless and cruel (and someone else with adhd mentions they can be on time, so why can't you?) and it's not an eating disorder if it's girl dinner! it's not mania if it's girl math! what do you mean you blew all of your savings on nonrefundable plane tickets for a plane you didn't even end up taking. what do you mean that you are afraid of eating. get over it. they roll their little lips up into a sneer. can you not, like, trauma dump?

they love it on them they like to wear pieces of your suffering like jewels so that it hangs off their tongue in rapiers. they are allowed to arm-chair diagnose and cherrypick their poisons but you can't ever miss too many showers because that's, like, "fuckken gross?" so anyone mean is a narcissist. so anyone with visual tics is clearly faking it and is so cringe. but they get to scream and hit customer service employees because well, i got overwhelmed.

you keep seeing these posts about how people pleasers are "inherently manipulative" and how it's totally unfair behavior. but you are a people pleaser, you have an ingrained fawn response. in the comments, you have typed and deleted the words just because it is technically true does not make it an empathetic or kind reading of the reaction about one million times. it is technically accurate, after all. you think of catholic guilt, how sometimes you feel bad when doing a good deed because the sense of pride you get from acting kind - that pride is a sin. the word "manipulation" is not without bias or stigma attached to it. many people with the fawn response are direct victims of someone who was malignantly manipulative. calling the victims manipulative too is an unfair and unkind reading of the situation. it would be better and more empathetic to say it is safety-seeking or connection-seeking behavior. yes, it can be toxic. no, in general it is not intended to be toxic. there is no reason to make mentally ill people feel worse for what we undergo.

you type why is everyone so quick to turn on someone showing clear signs of trauma but you already know the fucking answer, so what's the point of bothering. you kind of hate those this is what anxiety looks like! infographics because at this point you're so good at white-knuckling through a severe panic attack that people just think you're stoic. even people who know the situation sometimes comment you just don't seem depressed. and you're not a 9 year old white kid so there's no way you're on the spectrum, you're not obsessed with trains and you were never a good mathematician. okay then.

mental illness is trending. in 2012 tumblr said don't romanticize our symptoms but to be fair tiktok didn't exist yet. there's these series of videos where someone pretends to be "the most boring person on earth" and is just being a normal fucking person, which makes your skin crawl, because that probably means you are boring. your friend reads aloud a profile from tinder - no depressed bitches i fucking hate that mental illness crap. your father says that medication never actually works.

you still haven't told your grandmother that you're in therapy. despite everything (and the fact it's helping): you just don't want her to see you differently.

[lazylittledragon]

did somebody say dadkarios

[pcktknife]

IQ

[lotus-pear]

regret

[sadgrillsonly]

In an alternate universe I hope I am loved.

unconditionally,

irrevocably,

eternally,

and endlessly.

[grapecaseschoices]

some of the extremely supportive but slightly[?] unhinged things wyll can say to the dark urge as they fight the wyll [haha] to peel off his face.

[rakkuntoast]

so normal about them <- been a sobbing mess for the past 7 hours

[fantastic-nonsense]

"Maybe I needed it once. But I trained here, with The Flying Graysons, before I trained with you, Bruce. You know what the key is to a good trapeze act? Letting go...trusting that there's someone on the other side to catch you. You taught me a lot. But I learned from them to leap into the light. We're not the same, don't you see, Bruce? I had you." -Detective Comics #1074

hang on a minute y'all, I need to go scream into the abyss

[lunarrolls]

listen so closely to me i think liliana temult is a fascinating character and she’s really fun to examine morally but also nothing will ever come fucking close catharsis-wise to watching ashton and orym fucking cross examine her ass in episode 92. the sexiest shit i’ve ever seen “your worst fear is probably my worst fear, and i think we just got a little sample (my worst fear came true because you weren’t fast enough, what will you do when it’s her head on the line?)” and “keep wrestling (you must bear the weight of their deaths on your conscience and know it will never be enough for what you took from me)” like holy SHIT you guys

[flowercrowngods]

It's unreal. The light is streaming in through the windows, the curtains still drawn to block out the midday heat, tinging their living room in golden hues that match so well with the light grey fabric of their new sofa.

Eddie should probably snap out of it and head over to the windows, open the curtains and let the light in, and with it the warmth and fresh air of a surprisingly wonderful day.

It's March, he hears the echoes of Steve's giddy voice a week or two ago. Everything's better in March.

Eddie didn't agree then, and he's not sure he agrees now, but he must admit there is something magical about this moment.

Still he remains rooted to the spot, leather jacket heavy on his shoulders, his hands hidden in the sleeves of it, just in case this really is a dream. Just in case someone will come in and snap him out of it, take away their couch and leave an eviction notice.

It's dumb. But Eddie doesn't deal well with things that are unreal. Things that he knows aren't meant for him. Things that he knows he only gets in this one play-through of his life, while millions of other Eddie Munsons are out there in parallel universes who never get to even lay eyes upon a couch this nice. Let alone buy it. From their own real adult money.

It's a corner sofa, the fabric light grey, and he remembers it being harder than it looks. Solid. Just perfect for both their fucked up backs, scar tissue pulling if they sit wrong for too long, phantom pain and muscle aches coming in hot when all they want is to just relax and enjoy a lazy evening.

Eddie bites his lip, trailing his eyes along the pristine fabric, the pillows lining the back of it, the flawless stitches keeping everything in shape.

They have a couch now. A sofa.

It's so fucking unreal.

He drops to the floor right then and there, sitting with his back against the wall, and never once taking his eyes off their sofa. It feels important to look at it for a while. It feels important to wait for Steve. It feels... It feels like maybe he'll ruin everything if he goes and sits on it now.

And it feels really fucking big.

At some point he hears the front door opening, their lock going so smoothly now that Steve fixed it with some graphite, and the sound makes Eddie smile. That's another thing that's unreal. The key barely making any noise, the lock not rattling, the door not creaking and cracking. Eddie pulls a strand of hair between his lips, the smile feeling too silly for this room, for this home, for everything he gets to have now.

For all the tiny things that matter now. All the tiny things he gets to have, turning the key's smooth slide into an allegory of everything he ever wanted but never dared to hope for.

The slide of curtains, the click-click-click of the window handle being turned to let the air in. The breeze of fresh spring air dancing around his nose.

It's all a little much. It's so fucking addicting.

And then Steve. Socked feet coming to a stop beside him, a hand landing in his hair, a voice that's so endlessly warm and fond and maybe a little worried sounding from above him, "Hi, angel."

"Hi," Eddie says, tearing his eyes away from their couch to meet Steve's. The sunlight from the windows hugs him, making him glow. Eddie smiles. He smiles and smiles and never wants to stop.

Steve hums as he leans down to press a kiss to his forehead, and Eddie weaves his arm through Steve's legs, holding onto his knee.

Everything feels a little less silly now. Like every time Steve doesn't question his little moments of sitting on the floor and just staring at things.

"We have a couch now," Eddie says, because it feels important to point out. Because Steve isn't looking at it.

"We do," he hums. "I got the call earlier. Thanks for helping with that, baby."

Eddie nods again, leaning his cheek against Steve's knee and trailing the couch again with his eyes. It looks brighter now that the curtains don't turn the room into something out of a sepia-type movie anymore.

Steve's hands comb through his hair, massaging his scalp a little with his nails. It's nice. It's warm. It's pretty.

And it's so unreal.

"I'm twenty-four," Eddie says then, and some part of him wants to carve that into the fabric. He won't. But maybe he should carve it somewhere else. "And I own a couch. It's a little crazy."

Steve comes to sit down beside him, their shoulders pressed together and he links their hands, resting them in his lap after a brushes a kiss to Eddie's knuckles.

"Why's it crazy, angel?"

He shrugs, resting his head on Steve's shoulders and curling into his warmth some more.

"Most of my life I never thought either of those would happen, y'know."

Another hum, followed by another kiss to the crown of his head. Another smile.

"But you did it," Steve whispers. "You made it. And we've got a couch now."

"We've got a couch now."

Saying it out loud doesn't make it feel any realer. It only makes his heart race and his eyes prick.

"I love you," he says, finally looking away from pretty grey fabric to meet prettier hazel eyes. "I love you so much."

Steve leans in, kissing the tip of his nose. "I love you. Thank you for buying a couch with me."

And it occurs to Eddie then that Steve understands him. Sitting there on the floor with him, hearing his words and listening to those unsaid, understanding Eddie on such a fundamental level that it should be scary. And it is, sometimes.

But he's not scared now. Because they have a couch. And they have pretty curtains that keep the light outside and still turn the room into something magical. And they have a lock that only needed a bit of graphite to let the keys glide smoothly.

And they have each other.

They stay on the floor until Steve's stomach growls, and they eat dinner with their backs against the couch and Eddie's feet in Steve's lap. They hold each other close after dinner, just breathing each other in as the breeze blows around them.

In the end, Eddie is the first to sit on the couch, with Steve standing between his legs and giving him a scalp massage in silence. In the end, Eddie buries his face in Steve's stomach to hide the tears, and Steve lets him.

Because this is real. And he gets to have this. They both do.

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @stobin-cryptid@hotluncheddie @gutterflower77@auroraplume@steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important@stevesjockstrap @brainvines @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround@pukner@i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic@bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @finntheehumaneater @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[rad-batson]

Multiverse AU where different variants of Damian Wayne Al Ghul are accidentally hailed to one universe and Damian is in the middle, trying to get all of them back home, but it only gets worse and NOT for the reasons you would think.

So picture this: there’s a sea of Damian variants crowded into the Batcave. One’s a leader of the LOA. Another became the next Harley Quinn? One is a mute assassin. Another is Red Hood’s apprentice. One’s Batman. One’s a meta for some reason. Another is the leader of a revolution. One’s a monk. And another is a clone. They’re all somehow involved in vigilantism or the LOA.

And then there’s a completely normal one. He goes by Dami. He’s in college :) He works at an art studio. He’s got a heart condition. He has a boyfriend, and he has never been Robin before. In fact, he doesn’t even know his dad is Batman. So in a room full of wildly different versions, this Damian sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s like an NPC just standing in the middle of a final battle.

What he does know is that his mother, Talia, left the LOA with him when he was two because she fell in love with Bruce. Since then, the three have lived a Perfectly Normal Life as Perfectly Normal People in a moderately nice house in the suburbs of Gotham.

And you know what? No one questions it. Out of all the problems the Damians are having right now, Normal Damian is the least of them. So he just sits to the side, completely chill, and doesn’t interfere.

But then some chaos happens, the Damians are all sucked into a battle at some secondary location, Normal Dami is kidnapped, gets killed, and everyone’s super depressed about it. (Gosh, he was so nice. Why did it have to be him? Boo hoo. We didn’t even have time to recover the body.)

Until they head back to the cave…and there he is. Respawned. Alive. Confused.

He was literally dead on the floor two hours ago. They checked for a pulse! He bled out. Normal NPC Dami is supposed to be dead. But nope. He’s right there. “Hey, what happened? The last thing I remember is being tied up. Did I faint again?”

Everyone else, the whole batfamily and the mini Damian army, is like “wtf how’d you get here, buddy?” While he’s just like :) so Bruce, who put a bug on the security cameras or whatever, checks the footage and what he finds is absolutely horrifying.

Just after he died, Normal Dami’s eyes snapped open. Glowing a deep Lazarus Green. He stood up, walked out, and immediately fucking decimated the remaining group of kidnappers like a rabid animal. Literally anyone who got near him were goners, and Thank Sweet Jesus he didn’t run into anyone on the walk back because he didn’t care to clean off all that blood. Nope, he just walked right through the front doors of the manor, found a clean set of clothes, completely on autopilot, then all of the adrenaline wore off, and he collapsed from exhaustion.

So everyone watches the footage. NPC Damian is horrified. He insists that’s not him because he doesn’t kill people! How could they ever accuse him of killing people?! He has never done something like that. He can’t even walk up a flight of stairs without getting winded for Christ’s sake!

Nonetheless, he agrees to sit in their itty bitty holding cell as they do some fun little tests, and lo and behold: he is so genetically fucked up. Why? Because his DNA isn’t like the other Damians. It’s completely mutated by this green glowing substance that they know all too well.

The verdict? Normal Dami has been permanently mutated by the Lazarus Pit. The Lazarus Pit is inside of him. It IS him. Or maybe Normal NPC Damian is the Lazarus Pit.

When Normal Dami was two and he and Talia still lived with the LOA, there was an incident involving Damian drowning in the Lazarus Pit (à la Ra’s Al Ghul's Stellar Grand-Parenting Skills.) However, since he wasn’t dead, the Lazarus Pit devoured him, consumed him with violent pit madness, spat him back out, and Damian became this completely, unstoppably rage-filled toddler that can throw you over his shoulder and snap your neck. So Talia, terrified of what Ra’s would do with him, escaped to Gotham, found Bruce, begged for help, and they devised a plan.

Step 1: Raise Lazarus Damian as a completely normal kid.

Step 2: Take him to therapy. Maybe give him anger management classes. (Monitor his sugar intake. That couldn’t hurt.)

That was literally their whole plan. They had no other ideas ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Occasionally, he’d snap and kill someone in cold blood (whoopsie daisy) but his parents were an assassin and the world's greatest detective. No one’s gonna know.

Through some trial and error, they found out that abrupt adrenaline spikes were what triggered the madness. So they worked around it. They gave him calm, relaxing hobbies. They spoiled him with emotional support animals. They Never Raised Their Voices. He was homeschooled for a bit then introduced to university, but only AFTER they made sure Jon (the Indestructable Superboy) was his roommmate. (Yes, they told him. Yes, he is now part of the convoluted Keep Deadly Damian Relaxed Task Force. They’re also dating.) They got Damian a FitBit that tracked his heart rate so they could predict when his adrenaline spiked. They Life360’d his ass so fucking hard. Meanwhile, Damian just thought he had some kind of medical thing, none the wiser the entire time.

Long story short? “Chill Normal NPC Damian” Cannot Die. But he can Kill.

If he does “die” (the Lazarus Pit cannot die) then he goes into a murderous rage, kills everyone in sight, it wears off with the adrenaline, and he can’t remember what happened. This Damian is the Most Dangerous of the variants, and he doesn’t even know it because his parents decided that would be best.

And now the other Damians are scared of him, and he’s scared of himself, and no one knows why he's made of the Lazarus Pit, and they don’t know what to do with him, and they still don’t know how to get back, and some of them want to kill him, and some don't, but no one trusts him, including himself, and it becomes an all-out war over the fate of Damian.

Anyway, Normal Damian who's actually a Murderous Lazarus Spirit without even knowing it. Thank you :)

[haunted-xander]

Wholeheartedly

[bonetrousledbones]

update to the Playing Undertale With Roommate Whose Only Social Media is Pinterest situation: we only just got to waterfall and so far it has been a fucking trip

they have No Idea the significance of Flowey yet. not even a hint. they thought the sans echo flower conversation was about echo flowers

during the papyrus date and especially when they got to his room they kept looking at me and saying "THIS is your man????" which they stopped asking after the date. they have read some of my fics. i do not think i am any less insane to them now

they gave papyrus a valley girl voice btw. mostly because i had to beg them not to give him a mickey mouse voice instead

they didn't fucking know what skeletor sounds like

bc i know The Efficient Ways to do Things and they don't they've been reminding me of a buncha details & lines of dialogue I don't actually have embedded in my memory. particularly "PAPYRUS IS HUNGRY, TOO! HUNGRY FOR JUSTICE!"

they got the "Can I speak to G..." phone call. i have never once gotten that in any of my playthroughs, probably because i don't usually go up to that area but still. ik its not REALLY rare but i have never actually seen it Organically before so it was crazy to ME

Dogsong is my morning alarm ok. so when it showed up in the game and they realized they recognized it on a subconscious level they looked physically pained

Undyne's first chase scene scared the shit out of them

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

Would Bardaby (from the Fantasy Au) still do his affectionate biting as shown in the original WH or would it be different?

i'd say Yes Absolutely!

he's gotta be more Careful about it tho... look at those chompers...