#gone with the bullets

[greenglowinspooks]

To be honest. DCxDP where the reason Danny meets the bats is Ace the Bat-hound

Like, just think about it for a second. Danny is in Gotham for college, or maybe he just moved out to find a city where having mad scientist parents isn’t actually that unusual.

He can see ghosts.

The ghosts know this.

Now he’s getting harassed left and right by spirits trying to get closure. Fine, whatever, most of them are a one-and-done type deal, and the amount of ghosts trying to get his help steadily decreases.

Except for this one very stubborn dog.

It just keeps showing up and leading him to crime scenes! He doesn’t know how many “anonymous tips” he can call in to the cops before they trace his phone! And this dog, this incredibly good boy, will not stop trying to help the city. He’s never met anyone with such a strong sense of justice, let alone a dog. Can dogs even have a moral compass?

And so Danny just accepts the fact that Ace isn’t going anywhere and becomes his reluctant sidekick/dedicated medium. He leans into the whole thing, dressing up in a mix of traditional magic-user attire and accessories that pay homage to the ghost dog.

He becomes somewhat well known. The psychopomp detective following around the shadowy figure of a German Shepard? That’s unusual! That’s weird! I mean, it’s not the weirdest thing in Gotham, sure, but he’s a new vigilante and he’s got a ghost dog that people can only see when it’s around him. Someone’s gonna notice.

Damian, as Robin, is the first to reach out to him.

Ace doesn’t know Damian but he does know a Robin, and while this isn’t his Robin, he’s still friendlier than usual. Danny’s panicking because oh god the bats are here and also is this kid gonna steal my ghost dog, Damian is absolutely delighted by Ace, and Ace is just happy to see a Robin again.

Damian decides that the psychopomp isn’t a danger to anyone, and there’s no reason to put this encounter into his reports, really, and perhaps Danny can help with some of his cases in the future.

Danny is sweating bullets because Damian basically tells him that he’ll keep him secret as long as he gets to play with Ace. Ace is happy that he’s finally getting some bat affiliated crime-fighting assistance.

And so, Danny is now both Ace AND Damian’s reluctant assistant. At least whenever he’s in trouble, he can always call a middle schooler to help him.

(Is Robin even in school? He’s out patrolling damn near every night, and he stays out late as hell. Does he have a bedtime? He should.)

Eventually it gets to the point where Damian is going over to Danny’s house. When he first sees it, he has a damn bitch you live like this moment, to which Danny responds that not everyone has the money to afford a nice place. Damian counters that he could at least take the time to clean up, and Danny replies that he’s working, going to school, and being a vigilante assistant to a ghost dog, something’s got to give.

Danny nearly has a heart attack when he checks his bank account the next day and sees that someone transferred him 10,000 dollars.

And so they get into a routine. Danny and Damian fight crime with Ace at night, and occasionally Damian stops by during the day to play with Ace and have Danny help with his homework.

(Damian is smart enough to do it on his own, but some of the instructions are written incredibly confusingly, and he would never admit to needing help to his family. Danny is just glad that the kid is in school and cares about his education, blissfully unaware that he’s basically emotionally adopted him.)

Damian is used to being in Danny’s company.

Eventually, when going over a case with the family, Damian absentmindedly remarks that he’ll have to ask Danny about some of the clues that they might be missing. Nightwing asks who he means and Damian makes a face like he just swallowed a lemon.

Cue shitstorm.

Who is “Danny?” Why is Damian willing to ask for help from anyone, much less someone outside of the family? Does he know who Damian is? Has Damian been compromised? What the hell is going on?

Damian now has to explain that Danny is the psychopomp with the ghost dog who he might have met hunted down while on patrol and conveniently not mentioned, but he’s not a bad person, really, and he lets him play with Ace, and he’s been quite helpful on certain cases due to his ability to talk to ghosts.

Bruce insists that the family meet Danny. Damian, hoping that he won’t just skip town the second he hears the news, relents.

Danny is surprisingly eager to meet the bats, considering his earlier fears.

Damian, blissfully unaware of what’s coming, sets a time and place to meet.

Once everyone is there, he gives Bruce the earful of a lifetime.

Robin is in middle school! Danny knows that there’s no way to stop the boy from going on patrol, but you could at least shift his schedule so he gets enough sleep on school nights! Does the Bat even know where he is half the time?! (No) And why isn’t he comfortable asking his family for help with both cases and homework? Did they ever even notice how much time he was spending at Danny’s house? If Danny was a bad person, he could have seriously hurt the poor boy! Shame on you!

Nightwing is mortified that Damian didn’t trust him enough to tell him about any of this. Red Hood is laughing his ass off, because yeah Danny is making good points but he’s also chewing out the literal Batman. Tim is recording the whole thing. Steph is delighted by the absolute gall of this Danger Twink™️, and already planning to add him to several groupchats. Damian is more embarrassed than he’s ever been in his entire life.

You, he points to Nightwing, did your academic life feel supported when you were a Robin? Nightwing is too stunned to speak. Red Hood, eternal shit-stirrer, says that oh, we all prioritized patrol over our education, that’s just how it is. Red Robin actually dropped out of high school to avoid distractions, did you know that?

Danny honest-to-god shrieks at this.

He finishes his angry rant and leaves, everyone too stunned to stop him.

And as it turns out, Tim wasn’t the only person recording the whole thing.

The entire internet is blowing up with Psychopomp The Danger Twink™️’s rant. People are taking sides. Things are getting messy. Red Hood literally admitting on-camera to previously being a Robin is somehow not the main focus here.

Eventually someone connects some dots from the video, as well as stories circling the internet about the psychopomp. A ghost dog named Ace, who is the literal only reason that the psychopomp is fighting crime at all, which seems incredibly fond of Nightwing and Robin.

A crime-fighting dog who wants constant attention from both the current and original Robin.

Oh my god, Ace the Bat-hound died and became a crime-fighting ghost.

And, somehow, that’s still not the strangest thing going on in Gotham.

[ithinkdogshouldvote]

Terry I love you. You are so weird. WHY do you have a sword????

[patrickztump]

official birthday post <3 the babies have now blessed the universe with a trillion meows combined, a zillion cat hairs each, and infinite purrs for TWELVE (12) years now!! 🥹

[inke-ri]

So I couldn't help but browse the THG tag bc those books own my whole heart. I actually check it now and again, and it's been interesting see how opinions have changed over the years, especially in regards to Gale and Peeta. Going through the evolution of them as just potential love interests to being far more complex than I could have expected has been a wild ride. Crazy how this reads different than from when I was a preteen.

That said, I wanted to give my unsolicited two cents on my boys, because though I have been enjoying the discussion on Peeta and Gale and what they mean to the story, I also feel like reducing them to Peeta = peace and Gale = war is far too simplistic... and oftentimes unfair to one or both of them.

See, I don't think Peeta and Gale are peace and war/destruction. They're compassion and indignation.

Peeta worries about the other tributes, or their families, or how to repay people like Rue and Thresh for what they did.

Gale is indignation at how the Capitol treats its citizens, it's anger at the injustice of inequality and brutality.

Both are needed in a story like THG. You can't have people like even Peeta not say something like "maybe we're wrong about keeping things quiet in the districts", you can't have him not drop the baby bomb, you can't start a revolution without Gale's indignation at the status quo. At deserving a better life but being denied it, at having your kids be mercilessly killed for literal sport.

However, if you start a rebellion and loose sight of your compassion, you end up no better than the people you're fighting against. Gale wasn't a bad person, imo. His heart was in the right place. He was flawed, yes, but so is everyone in this series. Gale, most importantly, lost sight of the line between fighting for the people he cared about and fighting against the people who hurt him.

Reducing Gale's indignation to just revenge and hatred ignores so much of what he stands for. Who hasn't seen laws passed that dehumanize people, who hasn't been angry and furious when someone is elected who fundamentally hates everything you are, who doesn't think some people need to pay for the atrocities they committed? There's a little bit of Gale in every single one of us - and it's important that it's there, because that's what gives us strength to challenge the status quo and make life better for the future generations.

But. You can't let it take over. You can't loose sight of your compassion or your empathy.

That's where Peeta comes in. Peeta is the voice in your head that worries about how many good lives will be lost when they give themselves up for this cause. Peeta is the worry about the people caught in the crossfire. Peeta is rebuilding when it's over and believing that the next generation will have a better life than your own. Peeta is being kind, even to people who may not deserve it.

And Gale... Gale looses sight of his compassion, and he doesn't realize it until it smacks him in the face when the bombs go off and Prim is gone and he's too far gone. Meanwhile, Peeta advocates for the end of the war even though it means the status quo remains - and regardless of what he believes himself, I don't think Suzanne chose him to say those lines by chance. It means both mindsets have their flaws: too kind and things that shouldn't remain will never be challenged and changed, too angry and you may loose sight of what you're fighting for.

And that's just how Suzanne uses her characters, both of them, all of them. Just look at who is with Katniss depending on the situation:

- Katniss chooses to "rebel" after Gale is brutally whipped. She kisses him.

- Katniss realizes that in order for D12 to rebel, everyone would need to be in on it, and she realizes most of them are not like her, that they're scared and she understands, emphasises with them. Peeta walks by her side.

- Katniss finally does it though, shoots the arrow at the force field, and Peeta is taken from her, it's now Gale by her side.

(You can't start a rebellion without indignation, and sometimes you HAVE to do it or things will never change, regardless of the inevitable pain that will come along.)

- Katniss is righteously angry at the Capitol bombing a hospital full of innocents to make a point. Gale remains there.

- Coin twists people's compassion into an army to fight for her own personal gain. Peeta is hijacked and looses his sense of self.

- Katniss and Gale go to District 2 and even though she tries to be like Peeta, she's still shot- reinforcing Gale's views, the person who was with her during that sequence.

- Katniss is angry at Snow, Katniss goes to the Capitol to kill him. Gale is there.

- Katniss gets in way over her head and realizes she is responsible for the death of most of her squad. She shares the lamb stew with Peeta, and later cleans his wounds.

- Finnick dies and she's at her lowest up until that point and all she wants to do is give up and give in to the anger. She kisses Peeta and begs him to stay with her.

... Claiming that Gale is destruction ignores the fact that he's with Katniss through her own moments of strength. Her desire to change things, to fight back, is as important as her compassion. Mockingjay just brutally shows you what war does to your indignation, to your compassion. How easy it is to cross a line between righteous anger and revenge, or how your sense of empathy and compassion can be manipulated into something monstrous by others, or by all the terrible, brutal, painful things you see.

How easy it is to loose yourself- and that goes for both of them.

Peeta and Gale aren't static characters, they go from representations of sentiments regarding an injust government to what happens to those feelings when an extreme situation such as war breaks out. All of that, by the way, while dealing with this duality themselves, because they are still characters who think and feel and struggle and have flaws of their own- and while I love what they stand for, I've seen too many comments that pin everything into what they mean, that they forget that Peeta and Gale are still people, they aren't perfect metaphors. They're human.

Ultimately, Katniss doesn't really choose peace. She wants peace, yes. But what she chooses is compassion. empathy. hope. There's a time and place for anger at injustice. There's a time when fighting back is the right thing to do. There are even times when you wanna give in to your despair and lash out. But if you want peace, then you have to choose Peeta, because Peeta represents what you need to focus on to achieve that peace. You have to let go of the anger or you won't ever rest. So Gale leaves, and does not come back... And yet, Katniss still has her moments of indignation, of making a stand, even as he goes - she still casts her vote at that meeting, she still shoots Coin. Katniss does not abandon that part of who she is. It's just not her main drive anymore.

So then she goes on to make the choice, every single day, to be compassionate to others. To have hope. To rebuild. Of course she chooses Peeta.

... Idk, man. These boys are so much more than what I see them so often reduced to. They're in all of us. There will be times to stand and fight, and times to show mercy and be kind. We just need to find that balance, as Katniss eventually did.

[alexisnotstraight]

art school gerard!!! i do not like drawing black and white. i don't think i will ever do it again, this does not look happy, i love colors, this does not have colors. anyways, art school gee, my beloved <3

edit: so just realized that literally a piece of their clothes is missing, tried to edit the drawing, the file is blank. so... yeah, enjoy incomplete gee drawing i guess :/

edit 2: fixed it!

[wexhappyxfew]

Margie and Benny in the camps screams the prompt “you can rest now, you’re safe”. Love your stuff!!!

HI SWEET ANON!!! margie and benny in the camps absolutely screams 'you can rest now, you're safe'!!!!!! thank you for the love and support omggggg!!!! <33333 it means so much!!!! :D this prompt was just so. them. like insanely them. i haven't written a whole lot for these two....they've been hidden in the background (and are very much a duo that snuck up on me), but i've wanted to explore them more recently, especially when i put out this duo as a prompt option - and i can't say how excited i am to do more for them!!!! please enjoy!!!

always, always, always

(a/n): margie and benny you are so special to me, margie and benny you are so special to me. this was just ....i am so insanely soft for these two right now. just two people who are in a situation they couldn't entirely control, yet are living on, in the best way they can, despite it. the yearn, the ache, the want. sobbing. absolutely sobbing.

You can rest now, you're safe. You can rest now, you're safe. You can rest now, you're safe. You can rest now, you're safe. You can rest now, you're safe.

Hearing it more times than she could even count, she took double that to convince herself that she actually was. Her entire body ached, everything hurt, she felt like she was sick with three different types of illnesses that all made her head ache, her nose run and her stomach feel crummy, and to even shift her head made her dizzy.

Convincing herself she was safe on top of that took every ounce of energy left in what she could call her body. She was so thin, so sickly, she wondered how she had even survived to this point - how she had even made it.

After getting separated from Lieutenant Bradshaw, Lieutenant Carlisle, and Kennedy, she was sure she'd be gone for good until she'd run into that German family and they'd all but kept her locked in that room until the Germans had come for her.

The only thing keeping her grounded in her spiral of thoughts was the gentle hand that slowly ran down from her sweaty forehead, over her tangled, dirty-blonde hair, before starting over again, and repeating that same motion over and over as she lay there with tears in her eyes, staring at the ceiling of the bunk above her. She could hear things going on around her, quiet voices - staying soft as if being loud would bother her - and the clang of pots and sloshing of water.

Someone was cooking.

The smell made her queasy.

"How's she doing, Benny?" she heard Bucky's voice say somewhere above her. She could imagine him - hands on his hips, that cold and detached look on his face.

Bucky Egan cared for all of the crew - of course, in his own way, that is - and it seemed now, in this camp, that was heightened and when one of the crew was down, he'd make sure someone paid for it.

Somehow.

"Okay as can be for now, still burning up," Benny whispered quietly from somewhere right next to her, his gentle touch that had previously been moving across her head, gone - please keep touching me, keep me grounded, keep me alive, please, "that soup ready yet?"

"Hambone's almost done." Bucky said firmly, his voice a bit louder than Benny's making her grimace the slightest bit. Bucky hesitated it seemed before his next statement. "She say anything yet?" The room grew a bit quieter at that notion, and she heard a small, grieving sigh escape Benny.

"No." Benny whispered, "Not yet."

What was Margie supposed to make of all this?

What she had seen, what had been done to her, what she had experienced, what she had been forced to be told?

Forced to say?

Her slow, shallow breaths were the only consistent part about her entire feeling right now. And it even hurt to breathe. She heard Bucky walk away, and the hand brushing across her head returned, slow, smooth and ethereally gentle.

With what the past week had been, she couldn't remember a touch as gentle as this. There was something in her where she couldn't get the words right in her mind. She couldn't get her brain to string a coherent sentence together that would make sense in this moment. And trying to say something in this moment could be pointless.

"You can rest now, Margie, you're safe, we gotcha." Benny whispered quietly as he continued to brush his fingertips over her sweaty forehead and over her hair. We gotcha, she repeated in her head, a few times over to convince herself it was true. We gotcha.

Somewhere between 5 seconds and 15 minutes had passed, with Benny's hand still slowly smoothing back her sweaty hair, when she began to smell something reminiscent of food, and her senses seemed to come to her.

"Mind grabbing her a bowl?" she heard Benny asked someone; there was a following mumbling and shuffling of footsteps. Lying there made her feel almost worse than if she was actually sitting up and acting normal - and that was the thing right? She would try to act normal, like nothing was bothering her, that whatever she had just experienced had never happened and she'd try and play it off. Because that's what she usually did and she was usually pretty good at it. But lying here now, she couldn't muster that inside herself.

"You should eat, Margie." she heard Benny whisper from somewhere above her head again. The thought made her want to vomit, but she knew she did need food - just from the way her body and mind ached, and her stomach seemed to scream out for some sort of food.

"I'll help you sit up." Benny said, and she felt his hands move to her elbows. And almost as if on instinct, she flinched, turning to look up at him with wide eyes, her heart racing as she tried to control it by holding her breath, but was miserably failing.

Something behind his gaze flickered in a saddening way that made her want to go back and act like she was fine, just so she didn't have to see that shift in his eyes. But lying there, looking up at him, she knew she couldn't go back, she couldn't change a damn thing. Benny had shifted back a bit, his hands hovering just over her arms this time, his gaze steady on her own, his body evidently tense.

It was so painfully different than the last time they'd seen each other, since being back in Thorpe Abbotts. She'd been so….different. In more ways than one. And noticing that change in herself hurt more than anything.

Staring at Benny, who was staring back at her made her think that he was definitely seeing a different person from the Margie Harlowe back at Thorpe Abbotts. That made her want to be sick.

"You okay?" he asked her quietly, his voice barely above much more than a trembling whisper. Margie stared at him there on the cot, frozen in place. Her entire body seemed to go into a panic just at his questioning, at his worry. She slowly nodded. She wasn't convinced of it herself, but she nodded despite it - for Benny and for the food. He continued to watch her as she saw someone else come into her line of sight.

It was Lieutenant Bradshaw.

A part of Margie wanted to breakdown at the sheer sight of Lieutenant Bradshaw right then and there - her glorious face, covered in grime and scars, her hair pulled away from her normally bright face, her eyes still holding light despite their dulled nature in a place like this. Annie Bradshaw seemed to have that effect on people - you saw her and wanted to breakdown with sheer relief that she was right there alongside you.

"Here, Benny," Annie said, handing the bowl of soup to him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder in that comforting and confiding way she always seemed to do when she could read a situation as easily as she normally did. Margie watched Annie look towards her, a far-off look in her gaze that made Margie's insides twists.

"Hey, Margie," Annie said, stepping forward and crouching beside the cot, "you doing okay?" Margie stared at Annie and tried to nod; it was admittedly a fair attempt at being confident in herself and her emotions, but staring at her command pilot made tears well in her eyes.

"C'mere Margie," Annie said, leaning forward and slowly helping her sit upright, gently touching at her shoulders and arms to help her sit up, "there you go." Annie smiled, weakly. "Sometimes you just need a good sit-up and a warm meal." Margie watched as Annie looked to Benny and nodded.

"And no doubt, you have the perfect person to be here and make sure you get your fill," Annie said softly, looking back to Margie with another one of her gentle smiles, reaching forward to squeeze Margie's hand, "you're safe, Margie." Annie's smile saddened - she had the most beautiful smile and seeing it fade hurt Margie's heart.

"Please know that."

Margie blinked away her onslaught of tears and managed a weak nod. Annie squeezed her hand extra tight before glancing at Benny and giving him a knowing look. Margie watched as Annie slowly stood to her feet, and smiled at her again.

That smile could win the war in Margie's eyes.

Slowly, Lieutenant Bradshaw faded back again to the group, getting her own fill of soup and settling in to her spot at the table. Margie looked towards Benny in the chair pulled up beside the bunk she was in and immediately noticed the grip he had on the bowl of soup and the quiet look on his face.

"It's not bad." Benny said with a small smile growing onto his lips before disappearing, "The soup. That is. It's….there could be worse."

He attempted another smile and Margie could feel a sense of comfort overwhelm her being - the realization that she was surrounded by people that wouldn't let her get hurt nor even hurt her. She wasn't back in that room, she wasn't there, she was with the people from the 100th who were like family. She was with people that cared. She was sitting right there with Benny. She was safe.

Watching Benny made her feel a jolt of guilt suddenly - he was sticking his neck out for her, trying to get her to feel better and more comforted in anyway and all she could do was sit here and stare, motionless.

Looking to Benny again, she watched a small smile grow encouragingly onto his lips and she couldn't help herself - she managed a small smile back. Sure, her face was a little more hollow, her eyes sunken in, cheeks gaunt, but she could see a fondness grow in Benny's eyes - just knowing she had smiled a bit.

Margie looked down at the bowl of soup, wringing her hands together in her lap, and slowly nodded. He was right - there was so much more that was worse than a bowl of soup.

For a moment, sitting there with Benny across from her, the matter of a week changing her into this new enigma of a person, it was almost like she was meeting Benny again for the first time - with that charming look in his eyes, that warm smile, his easy-going comfort that was like wrapping a warm blanket around yourself on a stormy day.

But he was still Benny DeMarco.

And he was still sitting there in front of her.

Still looking at her like she didn't feel like a completely different human being.

"Here," Benny said, stirring the soup with the spoon, before pulling some of it up into a spoonful and holding it out towards her, "let's just get some of this in you." Margie watched him and slowly nodded again, parting her lips the slightest bit and allowing him to drop the soup in her mouth. Whatever it was, it really wasn't horrible. That or she was just more hungry than she had originally thought.

Benny sat there with her, in that quiet and content silence, listening to the general chatter and clanging of dishes and people behind them in the bunk room, spoon-feeding her the soup until it was virtually gone.

Margie took down the last spoonful and then looked to him, her body feeling the slightest twinge more alive than she had been just a few minutes ago. She watched him turn back to the table behind him to place down the empty bowl, before he turned back to look towards her again and smiled.

Ever since she had tumbled in here, clinging to Major Cleven's jacket, tripping over her feet, in hysterics, reaching blindly for comfort, Benny had been there. Immediately by her side, now gingerly smiling, watching her like she was a precious being, like she didn't look like she had just been six feet under. Eyes welling with tears, Margie wrapped her arms around herself and bit back her lip.

"Margie…." Benny whispered softly. She could tell he wanted to reach out and touch her, hold her, let her know he was there, but the last time that'd happened, she'd flinched and he had retreated, looking defeated and deflated all at once. Looking up at him, Margie nervously tucked her lose hair behind her ears and met his gaze through her red-rimmed eyes.

"Thank you, Benny." she whispered quietly, her voice sounding dead to the ears - he still smiled.

God, Benny DeMarco would always look at her like that wouldn't he?

It seemed at the sound of her voice - she was actually speaking, she could actually get her thoughts coherent for once - that the realization made his entire body freeze. Margie did want to reach out towards him - she yearned for a touch that she knew wouldn't hurt her - but her thoughts would trail back to her past week of life and she'd retreat into herself, wishing she could cocoon her body into a ball.

And it seemed he wanted to do the same, watching her with such a desperate and pleading look - but he seemed to be thinking the same - she'd flinched the last time. He would hesitate. Margie stared at the space between and then looked at him again.

"Truly." she whispered, her voice sore, "Thank you." Benny's hands twitched, like he was about to reach out just to try to find a way to hold her. But he held himself, he watched her and slowly nodded, jaw slightly slack.

"Always." he said quietly.

Always, always, always.

And when someone said always - Margie believed them. Despite this war, this death, this terror, the grief, the horrors of it all, the blank promises of safety or normalcy or life - she would believe them.

She would believe him. In him.

Always, always, always.

[yaekiss]

꩜ Room Content: GN! Reader x GN! Yan! Sydney the Faithful, no gendered terms used for reader or Sydney, nsfw bulleted point towards the end where reader tops and chokes Sydney, unhealthy relationship from Sydney, worshipping, lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is so all over the place my bad LOL anyways some quick thoughts on how yan!Sydney the Faithful would play out, I also have thoughts about how it'd be like once the relationship has corrupted Sydney into their Fallen development but those r thoughts for another day orz...

- Started out as something harmless and cute, you spent so much time with them and you're one of the nicest people they've met in school so far, you’re probably their first crush ever !

- And when you reciprocate their love confession, those euphoric firework feelings never really fizzle out

- As your relationship progresses, you become all they can think about, be it while stamping the overdue books during their morning library counter duties or during mass

- Their eyes wander to where you’re seated at the end of the pew, next to some other initiate. Maybe you’re talking to them, maybe you’re just quietly listening to Jordan, but neither stop a strange new emotion from bubbling up in them

- When they see Jordan push the bread into your mouth, something in them twists. They’re not sure if they want to be the one to gingerly press the bread onto your tongue or if they want you to be the one to do the same to them

- If you took Jordan’s place, would they be able to hold back from enveloping your fingers in their mouth? To stop themselves from savouring you as if you were holier than anything in the temple itself? Sydney has to shake to clear away the thoughts, which catches your eye and, heavens above, what wouldn’t they do to keep your gaze upon them for a second more?

- Also thinking about a Devotion meter that serves as something like Kylar's Jealousy meter

- But unlike Kylar, they're more self-assured in your love for them. If anything, the more you remain steadfast in your relationship with them when others try to steal your attention away, the faster their devotion accumulates. (It’ll be even worse if you had an angel transformation, what’s stopping them from believing you should be worshipped?) 

- Both Sirris and Sydney know about your living circumstances so it's not terribly difficult to convince their parent to let you stay over for a night or two when they come to pick Sydney up at the temple. Besides, Danube street and the orphanage are so close to each other, it’ll be no trouble at all!

- And if they take your hand into their clasped ones in the middle of the night, knelt at the edge of the bed while you’re asleep, feverishly praying for salvation for the both of you, surely you wouldn’t mind

- They find themselves rubbing at their holy pendant a lot more these days when they think about you. (When their thoughts stray into more inappropriate unholy territories, they fantasise about you wrapping the cord of their pendant around your hand to use it as leverage while you pound into them, the sensation of being choked by you might just send them to heaven ♡)

- Perhaps they need to bring you to the prayer room to fully show how much they need to worship you + + Devotion

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[zeroistic]

parrotx2 and his best friend’s self sacrifice for parrot to achieve his goals (his goals are not worth the hole left in his heart)

—

also tunnel visioning on a goal so much that it becomes self destructive and destructive towards his relationships with his best friend

[aingeal98]

I'm crying they resurrected Jason deliberately with lazarus fluid. How are you going to copy Steph's death in Batgirls but make it boring and pointless with zero emotional weight or acknowledgement of anything Jason has the right to be mad at Bruce about. He didn't even have a gay best friend kiss him as he died.

[sopuu]

champion jesse has been rotating in my head for WEEKS i can finally get this out

also extra info and slight tweaks to the story under the cut!

- jesskas is a thing in this. obviously hfkdj what else did you expect from me

- romeo’s projecting a lot and wants jesse to see his friends the way he sees xara and fred

- lukas joins the main group (he punched romeo right after he teleported jesse away and romeo got pissed) and sorta takes jesse’s place as a reluctant leader

- the hug that happens when jesse and lukas reunite in ep5 is now in ep3 after the prison fight, roles reversed

- olivia and axel replace the ocelots, becoming the dead enders or whatever team name you chose at the start of s1 (to remind jesse of the time before they had any fame)

there’s a bit more lore to this but it’s gotta wait a bit cause it’ll spoil the animatic i’m working on :)

[sisididis]

Diet Pepsi ↳ Addison Rae

[dailykugisaki]

Day 238 | id in alt

Not her fault she makes nails sound like bullets, Shoko. She's just existing.

[mdot2designs]

Gone Pissing - available as stickers and acrylic keychains soon!

[brokehorrorfan]

Silver Bullet's soundtrack will be released on vinyl on October 4 via Real Gone Music. Pulled from "superior sound sources," the score is composed by Jay Chattaway (Maniac, Maniac Cop).

The album is pressed on scarlet and gray colored vinyl, limited to 600 for $25, and infinity splatter, limited to 100 for $35. It's housed in a jacket featuring artwork by Devon Whitehead.

[metalhealth-willdriveyoumad]

New tag game: an Album(/single) Cover Rainbow!

“Bonus points” for all different artists or artists your followers don’t know you listen to!

Tagging @justagremlinoncaffeine @hiding-under-classic-rock @fishiestuff @queen-rules-39 @im-sixx-sixx-sixx but anyone can join in

[wexhappyxfew]

Hihihi!!!

I am absolutely floored by these prompts, seriously. So to start it off, I humbly request:

“this isn’t up for discussion. i know you’re used to looking out for yourself, but i need you to understand that you don’t have to live like that anymore. i’m here. for as long as i’m around, i’m going to come between you and anything that wants to hurt you.”

For Kennedy and Bucky if you feel so inclined. They are one of my fav couples (although it is so close let me tell you), but obviously only write if it speaks to you!

Can’t wait to see these pieces, Shannon!

-☀️

HI SUNSHINE ANON!!!! (enthusiastically waves) thank you so much for sending this in (plus your others, thank you so so much)! i got so excited seeing this kennedy x bucky request as i was already half-way through writing and realized how well things lined up when i got this request and decided to use it! thank you for the kennedy x bucky love truly!! they are seriously so fun to write and craft and getting to look at a more intimate, raw and emotional side of them here (with that lovely dose of angst and whump and comfort) was exactly what we needed with them! so i humbly present kennedy x bucky in the Stalag :) thank you so so much again! TRULY!! <33333

she'd fight a war herself

(a/n): HELLO FRIENDS!!!! if you recognize any of the few lines here and there from things i've posted related to kennedy and bucky here in the past few days, this is the piece! and the request really lined up with what i was going for here, so i combined the original kennedy x bucky piece i was working on with this one! and here we are! and im sobbing! okay! please enjoy! :)

"Knock, knock."

Kennedy's bruised knuckles tapped against the wooden door to the small library in their bunkhouse, where Bucky Egan was currently sat with one of those older wooden chairs pulled up against the window, staring out into the hazy afternoon. His large overcoat was wrapped around his body, hands shoved deep into the pockets, his hair a little more unruly than normal, and a sour look on his face.

Kennedy had been looking for him for at least an hour since she had left the group which had shifted outside - Annie and Buck's idea of 'getting some sunshine' into the group now that it was finally out.

Gray skies and storm clouds had been their friend for the past few weeks, with muddy pathways and cold winds. Now, with the sun out and a warm breeze in the air, there also seemed to be hope floating about.

Bucky, however, was here, sat inside, closed off, and completely alone. Bucky's eyes slowly shifted from the dusted window, his look both stern and far-off all at once, and his shoulders stood tall. She watched his eyes trail to her hand there on the door - the bruises, the ones she had earned herself, along with the one underneath her eye - and offered nothing but a small smile.

Ever since the kiss, in this very room, Bucky Egan had suddenly become everything.

At breakfast or dinner, where she tried to get herself by his side, or out when they managed to get outside, she'd find a way for just the two of them, to talk, to work through whatever the other was feeling, to take hold of the other's hand. Sometimes, when the nights were long and cold, she'd find herself in his bunk, soft kisses being shared back and forth between the two, his warm hands roaming her body underneath her overcoat and button-up and blanket, keeping her both sane and alive all at once. Things were different. And she tried to hold onto every bit of that in every way. The bruises though were different now. And Bucky had been a pistol about them ever since.

"Whatcha doing in here all alone?" Kennedy said, some of the voices outside coming through the walls, the sunshine coming in through the hazy window, half-reflecting off of Bucky's face in a way that made his skin glow in a way it hadn't in a whole, "I was looking for you." At those words, the corner of Bucky's lips curled upwards a bit. She always seemed to get him to grin.

"Just doing some thinking." Bucky said slowly, a nod to follow, "In my thinking spot." Kennedy chuckled and stepped into the room more, shoving her hands in the pockets of her poor, tattered A2.

"In your thinking spot, huh?" Kennedy said, tilting her head to the side, a small smile on her face, "What's bouncing around in your brain?"

Bucky watched her deeply for a moment, it felt like he was looking at her as intently as he could, as if memorizing her face, her dimples, her freckles, her hair the way it was (and it wasn't pretty). He seemed distracted, off-guard, on the low. Her smile fell and instead, worry began to consume her. Bucky was usually far from the person sitting in front of her now. Her heart pounded a bit.

Moving closer, Bucky looked up at her as she came to stand beside him - she offered an attempt at another smile - before reaching forward and running her fingers over those few loose, wild curls of hair against his forehead.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly, a bit more urgency to her voice, retracting her hand, the touch having been, evidently, both gentle and welcome, "You're never this quiet, Bucky, you're worrying me."

"C'mere." Bucky said, voice low and gruff as he reached out his hands and spread his knees a bit. Kennedy watched him for a moment, the desperation in his eyes, making her heart hurt a bit, as she stepped forward and settled between his lap and leg, wrapping her arm around the back of his neck and reaching up her other hand to cup his cheek.

Softly, she guided his face to her own and watched his eyes again, her thumb brushing gently on his stubbled skin. His hand found her waist, thumb brushing back and forth against her jacket as his other hand came to her knee, the warmth of his hand tingling her skin underneath her pants. It felt so natural to be like this, so close and intimate. If it weren't for the war and their circumstances, she would've said it felt like home.

But with Bucky, she was home.

No matter where they were.

"What's going on?" she asked quietly again, her voice soft as he continued to watch her, gripping her like his life depended on it.

Slowly, her leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her lips - soft, sweet and slightly desperate, but longing enough that her stomach flipped - she was still getting used to this between them. After everything they said to each other, that moment they shared. Pulling back, he watched her again. She offered a small smile.

"We can't just stay here forever." he said quietly, "This place. Now with the SS showing up." Bucky continued to hold her gaze, the look in his eyes both stern and persistent. He looked crazed deep-down inside. "After hearing what the British did…..those holes. We gotta find a way to do something. To get out. Or even just try….." Bucky whispered, his voice dropping, "There's so much more than this place, Kenny. I know that." Kennedy watched him, cheeks warmed from his touch and his presence and him. She slowly nodded.

"I know." she said softly back, "And we will. But for now, it has to be kept on the low. Nothing crazy. You don't want yourself hurt or killed."

"Just like they did to you?" Bucky said back to her, reaching up to take her hand on his face and gently hold it out beside him, fingers tracing the delicate, broken skin on her knuckles before looking back at her, "I don't want them touching you again." Her insides twisted warmly at his words, that protective bite to his voice that made her warm all over.

"I know, baby," she whispered quietly, leaning forward to press a kiss to his forehead, a sigh escaping his lips as he leaned his head back against the wall behind the chair, "we'll get through this. You know that." Bucky watched her, the corner of his mouth lifting upwards.

"How many more times do we have to say that before it's true?" he asked her quietly, his words almost hollow, like he was fighting to believe it, "I wish I was more like you with that." Kennedy watched him with a small smile and shrugged.

"Ask Annie Bradshaw and maybe she'd know. She's got quite the effect on a person." Kennedy said and Bucky managed to smile a bit at that.

"You've got quite the effect on me." he said, as she felt her cheeks warm at his words - something she was always trying to fight away - since when did she blush? Bucky continued to watch her and she let him; watching as his eyes explored her face, his hand coming up a few times to wipe back the ginger hair falling from the poorly done braids behind her head. His eyes rested a few times on her own eyes, before they'd fall to her lips or freckled cheeks and then back to her eyes. It seemed to calm him. Keeping him steady. She wanted that for him.

"I've never wanted to get out of a place more," Bucky whispered quietly, a catch almost in his voice, "you know that?" The thoughts just seemed to cycle and he seemed to spiral.

"I know." Kennedy whispered, reaching up to drag her fingers gently through his hair, his grip tightening on her waist, "We all do." Bucky watched her and leaned closer.

"Do you want kids?" he asked her, catching her the slightest bit off guard there - suddenly she felt every part of him touching her, his eyes on her face and she felt her body warm. Watching him for a moment, she nodded.

"Yeah," she said, "always have." Bucky suddenly seemed to grin at her, genuinely grin and she watched as he reached up and ran his fingers over the end of her braid.

"Bet they'd have your hair color. Bright red hair." Bucky said with a small chuckle, "Our kids." Kennedy watched her, her heart hammering in her chest, her eyes fighting to well with tears.

The thought of being a mother had always been a dream of hers - she had a girl in middle school tell her before that she didn't seem like someone who could be a mom. And Kennedy carried that quote with her everywhere she went. Even when she was dating boys from the country club and they'd tell her about the fortunes and promise rings of her future and the chances of what their kids would inherit. Even when she was home, broken-hearted over that loser from her father's business who had told her 'she was too much'. Kennedy always wanted to be a mother, always.

It was something inherent to her very being, to her entire make-up as a woman. To her.

"Your eyes." Kennedy said, testing the waters right back, her voice sounding strained and choked as she spoke, silently hoping Bucky didn't realize too much, "Definitely your eyes." Bucky met her gaze and smiled at her.

"Nah, nah," he said, "your eyes, my ears. Probably." At that, Kennedy let out a snort of laughter and sniffled a bit, looking towards him again.

"I don't want this to sound dumb, but I promised I'd never try to hide things from you…but, you want to have kids? With me?" she asked him quietly, watching as worry and concern built up in his eyes, straightening his shoulders a bit as he did so. She tried a joke. "But I'm a Red Sox fan." Bucky watched her, jaw set, eyes on her.

"I do." he said quietly, entirely serious, "I hope you know this-" gesturing between them, "isn't just nothing to me. You know that. I'm serious about you, Kenny. Why do you think I want to get out so bad? I sit here, day after day, knowing what we could have outside of this shit hole. I'm real serious about this. About us." Bucky continued to watch her. "You know that." Kennedy melted against him a bit, leaning closer, cupping his cheek as she tilted her head to match his.

"I know, I just…." she started, "I didn't know if I'd ever get the chance to be a mother in a world like this so….hearing you say that. It just, ya know, made me want it more. With you." Kennedy's big eyes trailed up to Bucky's and she watched him watch her back.

"Why'd you say it that way, Kenny?" Kennedy stared at him, those words from middle school ringing in her head. Over and over. Like a bell toll in the church, an echo off a never-ending cave wall.

"Someone, who clearly was very upset with their life, once told me I wouldn't make a good mother." Kennedy whispered quietly, "And I took it to heart and believed it. For a period of time. For a while." Bucky's eyes grew dark and his grip tightened on her.

"You still believe that shit?" Bucky asked her, voice louder than he seemed to want it to be.

"No." Kennedy said, "I used to let it get to me, but….not anymore. Not after being with this group. With you." Bucky watched her, his gaze softening a bit more as he watched her grin.

"Good." he said quietly, a silence falling between them as they watched each other, these small, shy smiles on their lips in a way Kennedy had never seen Bucky even be before. It was honestly enough to make her giddy inside.

"I just know our kids would be Red Sox fans." she whispered and she watched a wild grin appear on his face as he shook his head.

"No! Nah, nah, you've gone too far there," Bucky said, his face starting to glow, "the second they're able to walk, I'm taking them to a game, Yankees, alright? They're getting the playing cards, all that happy horseshit, okay?" Kennedy let out a laugh as Bucky held her closer.

"But what happens if they choose Red Sox, huh, what would you do?" she said, holding her chin high as Bucky smirked and shook his head.

"Wouldn't you like to know." he said softly back and Kennedy nodded with a grin, "Either way, you'd be the best mom those kiddos would ever have, I know that." Just hearing words like that, some deep and genuine and truthful from someone like Bucky made her heart race and her emotion take hold.

"I don't usually go soft on Red Sox fans anyway, but you might've gotten me, Kenny." Bucky whispered softly, catching her gaze as she stared at him. She brushed her thumb across his cheek again and leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips.

With how close they were, she couldn't help but feel him deepen the kiss there, this cracked-open rush of feelings enough for her to feel starved for him as his tongue swiped her bottom lip and a sigh left her lips.

She pulled herself as close as possible to him, wrapping her arms around his neck, her hands exploring his hair as she tilted her head to get more of him to her.

Breaking apart, slightly gasping for breaths of air, his lips danced across her jawline, dotting along her neck before he was there, sucking gently on a spot near her collarbone. It made her giddy, sitting here, despite the situation, with a man, tall, brooding, and a little goofy, kissing her neck and her of all people, like it was life itself.

It made her a little crazy inside - that he wanted her? He wanted a future, a life, kids…with her? Maybe it made her a little crazy, but it was true. Kennedy let out a giggle leave her lips and Bucky pulled back, eyes soft as he looked to her and grinned lazily.

"What are you laughing about?" he asked her, his voice making her insides twist again.

"Us." she whispered back, "You and me." Bucky watched her with a smirk.

"What about us?"

"Our futures." she said quietly, "God, imagine what our lives could be like."

"You see why I'm pushing the get-the-fuck out narrative now, right?" he said and Kennedy cackled at his words and nodded. Bucky watched her fondly and grinned.

"Well, since the door has been shoved wide open, no longer just a foot in the door, you gotta hit me with those baby names, Kenny, let me have 'em." he said, winking at her and grinning effortlessly, like some cool guy in a movie, "I gotta know what little Egans we'll have."

"You're leaving the naming to me?" she asked him with a laugh and Bucky grinned.

"Hell yeah I am," he said with a wider smile, "seriously, what are they." Kennedy softened and then smiled.

"I always thought Florence was a pretty name. For a girl - Flo for short. Margaret - Maggie for short. Charlotte - Charlie for short." Kennedy said and Bucky grinned, "For boys, well…..Gregory for sure. I've always loved Clark or James, Jimmy for short. Robert….Bobby for short."

"You sure are a nicknames type of girl aren't you?" Bucky said and Kennedy grinned.

"What can I say?" she said, "I thought your name was actually Bucky before I found out that was only a nickname and your name was actually Major John Egan. I was convinced, I'll tell ya." Bucky chuckled at that and smiled at her, reaching up to run some strands of hair back away from her face. He watched her in that sickeningly sweet way that made every part of her body melt in a way she couldn't describe.

"What'd they do to you?" Bucky whispered, reaching up to brush his calloused thumb near the tender part of her bruise, his touch gentle on her skin and her body inviting his touch; she felt in every lifetime, she'd invite his touch like a warm spark, a match with a flame waiting to blow.

Kennedy's smile fell as she watched him - the memories raw, it all seemed fresh in her mind and usually nightmares chased reality away. Instead this time, it was both a mix of reality and nightmares that were her everyday waking truth.

"I knew those Kraut doctors would have something for Bessie's cough." Kennedy whispered, pretty mater-of-factly to him softly - she liked this, whispering with him like things were a secret and that for once it was just the two of them - and she liked hearing his voice whispered back, so low and quiet and soft on her ears. She loved his voice. Bucky watched her, thumb brushing on her bruised cheek gently as he did so. She wanted him to look at her like that forever, however long forever could be if it were him.

"I would've done it for you," Bucky said quietly with a nod, "scrounged it for you-"

"No." Kennedy whispered softly, her eyes flashing to his, "You've already done enough for me, Bucky-"

"You got hurt, Kennedy." Bucky said, his voice thick with emotion, choked somewhere in his throat, "They hurt you." Bucky's eyes flashed with pain and Kennedy shut her mouth slowly.

"I know that." Kennedy whispered, "I've gotten hurt before. All the time. Even when I was a kid. And for a friend, for someone like Bessie, I'd do it again." Bucky watched her still.

"They hurt you." Bucky repeated, this time his voice firmer, but shaky, like he was standing out on a balance beam, waiting for the wind to take him and tip him towards the abyss.

Silence fell between them and suddenly Kennedy felt more emotional than she had in days. He cares, her mind seemed to scream, he's saying this because he cares! But her mind couldn't seem to make sense of it, she couldn't seem to get that picture in her mind. She was still in that flightless mode, that build-up-your-walls-and-you-are-fine mode.

"I know." Kennedy whispered her voice shaky, "But I'm okay." Bucky's eyes moved back and forth frantically between hers for a second before focusing on the bruise on her cheek again.

Being this close to him, staring into his gaze, his eyes, knowing that if felt like he could see the deepest parts of her, scared her. In so many ways. In ways she didn't want to have to think about.

Sitting in this silence with him wasn't something she was entirely used to - and she couldn't get her mind to work, to get words formed on her lips. Instead, all she could do was stare right back at him. Convince him with a look that she was okay.

"I don't want you to have to worry about me." Kennedy said quietly, looking up slowly at Bucky with a shy look, "You shouldn't have to worry." Bucky's face moved with a near-grimace, a pained expression flourishing on his features in a way that made Kennedy want to eat her words.

"But I will." Bucky said, his voice louder this time, "Kennedy, look, I…." Bucky's eyes trailed towards the window again, before pulling back to her, "You know, me worrying about you. It….it isn't up for discussion. In my eyes. I know you're used to looking out for yourself, but I need you to understanding that you don't have to live like that anymore." Kennedy's eyes watered.

"I'm here," Bucky said, cupped her cheek firmer this time, looking right into her eyes, desperation flooding his own, "for as long as I'm around, I'm going to come between you and anything that wants to hurt you. Okay?"

"Bucky…." she whispered, but he shook his head and adjusted his grip on her before leaning closer to her.

"They hurt you, Kennedy," Bucky whispered, "and the thought of them laying a single fucking hand on you makes me wanna lose my mind. Touching you. Because you were doing something for a crew member-"

"I don't want you hurt because of me." Kennedy told him quietly, watching as his eyes flicked to hers, pausing mid-sentence.

"Kennedy, I'd taking a fucking bullet for you," Bucky said, watching her with a steady gaze, "I'd do anything for you." Bucky grew quiet. Kennedy watched him back with big eyes.

"Fuck, Kennedy, I love you, I'm in love with you," Bucky whispered, looking up into her eyes, with the purest form of grief and pain and love swirling in his vision, "you worry about the people you love. I'm always gonna worry. Even if you're right beside me."

Kennedy's heart slammed against her chest as she sat wrapped in his arms, breathing the same air he breathed, watching those eyes, memorizing each freckle on his face, every time the muscles moved in his face to make him smile or frown.

Love was a word that had physically hurt her to even say in the past - to her mom, her dad, her brother, to those few guys she had dated and sworn promises and lives with.

Love had never been a word she used well or even understood well.

With Bucky though, she felt she understood love in every which way. In ways that were still to be explored. And no one had ever looked at her with a love like he had - even when she had come to the Stalag, dried blood up half her face, dirt and mud caking her form, starving for life and food and touch, barely being able to acknowledge anything but a bed for a few days, craving everything that was both human and not.

Scorning the world and the place they were in, and every single person.

And Bucky had been by her side and fed her soup and told her stories and held her in the dark as the nightmares and reality seemed to clash in her mind, wrapping her in calming words and blankets made of nothing but thin wool and telling her everything that came to his mind.

It had been Bucky. It'd always be Bucky.

"I'm so in love with you Bucky, you don't even know," Kennedy managed out in a sped up version of what her mind had managed to come up with, "I love you so much. And I don't want you hurt." A tear squeaked out down her face as he watched her.

Slowly, their foreheads met in the small center of space between them, inches between them as Bucky pulled her as close as he physically could to him, the clothes on their very bodies almost too much between them even now.

Slowly and almost achingly, Bucky pressed his lips to hers and she let herself go in that moment. Her arms were wrapped around his neck, hands mused into his hair, his own hands pushed up underneath her shirt and warming her cold skin, dancing near her bra strap and holding her in such a delicate manner, she was sure she could cry about it 10 years in the future.

Bucky's lips were soft, but hungry and by the time his tongue had slipped inside, she couldn't think about anything else. His soft sighs into her mouth, her own mind going a thousand miles a minute with him there so close to her, Kennedy was sure she had entered a world she never wanted to leave.

They came apart gasping for breaths of air before his lips were trailing her jawline, before settling on her neck, and she giggled, curling into his own neck - his jacket nearly smelled like home.

Like Thorpe Abbotts - that hug they'd shared that long night when bombs were going off overhead and Bucky couldn't seem to contain his words or his alcohol.

And God, she had stared at him and sworn she would never think of him again, but here she was, the two of them holding each other in a way she'd never been held before and was thinking of every outcome of their lives past this very point in time.

Bucky's teeth grazed a bit at that soft spot on her neck, before he softly pulled back and kissed her skin gently, peppering that same spot with soft kisses that made her grin into him.

Then, she couldn't help it - giddy with the feel of him there with her and the way he had kissed her, so desperately and hungry, she let out a laugh into his neck and he seemed to feel much of the same of whatever energy she was feeling, because he laughed, too. A low rumble that she felt against her cheek, from his throat, which made her hold onto him so tightly that she never wanted to let go.

"Bucky?" Kennedy whispered against his neck, listening to his heart pulsate - she loved the feel of him right here beneath here - every inch.

"Kenny?" Kennedy pressed a soft kiss to his neck and watched goosebumps appear and a shiver run over his entire body.

"I've never loved someone more than you." she whispered quietly. Bucky tilted his head back and watched her and seeing his eyes so big and soft and there, right in front of her, made her suddenly feel like everything was worth it.

"I love you," he whispered, pressing a peck to her lips before pulling back and smiling at her, "the thinking spot has never let a person down now, has it?"

And then, she was laughing again, clasping a hand over her mouth as she launched her head back.

Laughing with Bucky, God, she'd fight a war herself just to live in this moment with him every night there was in her life.