#huh mom was right

[depvotee]

Vent dni

Man. It's insane when a family members are the ones that abuse you constantly that it becomes so normal at the point where you start to bite back they treat that as you begin the cunt.

[faeriekit]

Health and Hybrids (XXVIII)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters  for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

🖤Chapter navigation can be found here🖤 Click to browse previous updates.

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts 💚 (now featuring mediocre mouseover translations, only available on a computer)

Where we last left off... Danny has another hashtag breakdown! Man, we've got a lot of these, huh? It's YJ's fault this time; whoopsie doodles! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Trigger warnings for this story:  body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) |  my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

“Danny,” Diana says from the door.

Danny looks up from his place in the book. It’s definitely aimed at younger kids, but it’s a pretty wordy picture book; there are a couple paragraphs he can’t quite parse, but he’s making pretty good progress on the words he can’t recognize.

It’s a story about a cat who misses its mother. Danny tries not to relate to it too much.

“Hm?” he asks, flipping the front flap of the dust cover over his current pages to mark his place. The book goes back onto the nightstand, beside his space shuttle; Danny uses the railing beside his bed to support himself stepping up and out of his wheelchair, leaning on the railing until he can figure out…wait, where’d he leave his old people walker?

“This walk is long. You will want your chair.”

Well, then. Couldn’t she have said that before Danny did all that pulling? Danny falls back into his chair, kinda peeved. “Fine.”

Diana smiles. She doesn’t have to wear the mask around him anymore— Danny’s pretty sure that his injuries have been declared as clotted, or sealed, or whatever at this rate. They for sure swabbed his ectoplasm and came to some kind of conclusion, anyway, which means he only looks gross, but isn’t, like…actively leaking fluids.

On the one hand, gross! But, well, you know. Nothing for it but bandaids and time.

And her face looks nice. Danny hadn’t known what she’d looked like, before. She smiles when she sees him. Her light eyes crinkle, and her lips turn up… She’s nice. Danny’s sure that she’s only there to be in charge of him in case he gets scary, but she’s in charge of him and she’s nice. She doesn’t have to be nice; lots of people have been in charge of him and been mean about it. There was that one guy who kept holding him—with the taser—

(Time slips away from him, a little. When he gets back to the world in front of him, Diana is carefully looking at his face, the back of her hand stroking the back of his.)

Danny’s in his chair. He’s not…there. He’s in his chair, on a big space station (????) with a bunch of really colorful fighters on it, and Diana is touching his hand (that’s so much weaker and slower than it used to be) and he’s not hungry and he’s only scared because of memories. He’s safe. He’s not being pinned down by the neck so that they can strap down his wrists and hips to the table—they’re not shocking him—he can move his fingers, he’s not stuck in his core—

His core throbs. Danny bites into his bisected lip, and tries not to cry.

“Are you alright?” Diana asks, voice gentled. The soft touch of her hand doesn’t stop. “We can wait. There is no—“

Danny shakes his head, and takes his hand away so he could wipe at his eyes. It’s fine. Bad memories are everywhere: in the walls, in the floor, in the ceiling, in the hands of people taking care of him. That’s not… There’s nothing Danny can do about that. That just. Takes time.

…He think he might have that time. Now. He thought he would die for good in that five by five box, waiting for something that would finally end him instead of just keeping him in a cycle of injuries he never fully healed from.

But now he’s not. He’s here.

He wants to keep going.

“Alright,” Diana says, slow and careful. “Hold on.”

Danny doesn’t hold on—or, well, you know, he engages his core muscles and all that, but he doesn’t cling to his arm rests or to the frame of his chair because he knows that Diana is really, really strong, but she also really, really doesn’t want to hurt him.

She rolls him out of the medical wing and into the space station proper. Danny feels like he’s been here before, but he doesn’t remember it super well. Maybe it was when he was sick or something? Either way, a lot of different people wave at him as they go by—or just straight up stare, if they’re rude—and Danny generally just watches people rush by, carrying all kinds of equipment, and a potted plant, and a…starfish in a jar…?

Oh, the starfish waves at him???? Danny waves back because?? What??

Danny rolls to a stop at a smooth, cylindrical elevator. It looks like a giant test tube.

…Oh boy. Danny takes a deep breath, and holds it. Reflexively. Sure, this elevator probably isn’t like being dunked into water to see if his body absorbs ambient oxygen from the atmosphere or if his biology is truly not oxygen-based, but the memory is. Bad.

They go upwards. Nothing happens but Diana’s pushed button.

Danny exhales.

They get off at a section of the base Danny’s never been to, and it's essentially just a long, somewhat narrow hallway. The walls are actually painted a creamy off-white here, and there’s…like…decorative panels towards the base of his wheels trailing down the hallway? An orange ceiling, too?

Huh??

The rooms are numbered, but they’re not plain steel like in other areas downstairs; some of them have stickers, or drawings, or marker written straight onto the door itself. They look...cozy...? Danny thinks so, anyway, compared to the rest of the ultra high tech space base.

They roll to a stop in front of a door. It’s got a number on it, same as all the others, but there’s a box cutout taped to the front of it. The—

—The print is of the same style of space shuttle Danny keeps next to his bed, inked onto glorious cardboard medium.

Danny stares.

“Gegrapa,” Diana urges, so gentle. Too bad that, uh, Danny doesn’t know that one. He looks at her. She mimes touching the door— Oh. Got it.

Danny leans forward just enough to touch the door with his fingertips.

The door says something in a robotic voice, but the synthesizer is too mangled for Danny to make out the words. The door slides open horizontally into the wall, instead of the way the other doors open like portals or from below, and it’s kind of cool?

Inside is a bedroom. Danny stares.

…No, it’s actually a bedroom. Not a medical wing, not a cot, not a repurposed conference room or—it’s actually got a bed in it. Like. A real one. There’s a wooden headboard and it’s got a mattress on it that’s thicker than a VCR.

There’s constellation sheets on a bed big enough to curl up on.

There’s a nightstand, a small desk on the far wall—there’s a little lip where the bedroom dips into a tiny sitting room, a small television on a table and a small table and chair. It’s kind of…it’s kind of like a little hotel suite.

Danny’s mouth goes dry.

He doesn’t move, and Diana doesn’t wheel him in. “It’s okay,” Diana says, and—Danny almost flinches when she touches his hair, but it’s only Diana, who’s never hit him, and they’re fine. He’s…safe. It’s safe. He’s safe here. “Do you want to go in?”

Danny doesn’t move. His hands don’t touch the wheels. They’re shaking; he puts his hands in his lap and he tries to breathe. “…What?” he asks hoarsely.

“A rum for my Danny,” Diana murmurs, quietly. Danny’s heart throbs at the possessive. “You are healthier now. You do not need doctors every hour, but only sum hours. You cuðe spenda more time here, all ana.”

Words go by so fast even at Diana's smooth, unhurried pace— and Danny licks dry, split lips. He looks around the room—and the room is small, sure, but they're in space. Space will always be a premium. Even in this small room, though, the furniture is sparse and placed distant from each other…distant enough that Danny can wheel around freely in his chair.

There’s a Moon clock display hung on the wall over the doorway, and Danny can faintly see the outline of what he assumes is the current lunar phase as seen from Earth.

Having the lamp isn’t exactly the same as glow-in-the-dark-stars, and thank goodness for that. If it had been, Danny might have cried.

(Or, he realizes, something burning in his eyes that isn’t ectoplasm, maybe he is crying.)

“...Me?” Danny asks, terrified to know the answer. Is this room for him?? Is he getting a room here? Is he supposed to stay here? On the moon?! Is he supposed to stay with everyone here, in a tiny room, where there’s nowhere to go and nowhere to escape?

…It’s a bedroom. It’s already so much more than the stupid guys in white ever gave him.

“Yes,” Diana says, and lets go of his hair. “Use it, or do not. Sitta here, or sitta in the medical bay, but now you have two choices.”

Okay. So Danny has choices. He swallows his feelings—they taste a lot like snot—and rolls himself inside to inspect the room.

There’s another little fridge inside the sitting area. It’s not right next to the bed like it is beside Danny’s cot, but it is the same style of fridge. When Danny pops the door open, it has the same styles of snacks. Fig Einsteins. Peanut butter squeezies and applesauce squeezies and yogurt squeezies. Protein shakes in bottles. Pedialight. Hummus packs.

Danny might still need someone to open the snack packs for him. That’s kind of a high dexterity food, if he thinks about it.

“If you wish to sitta here, we will visit you all you like. There is a belle at your bed,” Diana says, and walks in with all her purple scrubs and tied-up hair to point to a little button on his nightstand. It’s red. It’s got a little smiley face sticker next to it, and Danny thinks he recognizes the style from one of his nurse’s bestickered name tags. Belle is probably a direct cognate for bell. He’ll be able to get everyone to come up here if he needs help.

…Okay, that’s kind of nice. To have personal space. He hasn’t had that since… Danny’s eyes squint as he thinks; he rubs an eye. Wait, when had he been squatting under a conference table? Was that a real memory??

Diana is very tall, even in the little space, but when she ducks her head, the gesture makes her a little smaller, a little more manageable for Danny’s lower-than-usual-gaze. Now that he can see her expression, she looks soft, and even uncertain, even though she looks stone and strong on the television when she goes out to fight. “Do you like it?” she asks.

Danny fidgets.

He—does. He likes it a lot. The room doesn’t have any windows, but if Danny moved all his things in here, got used to being able to come and go, and people coming in and out…this space could be just another space. It’s quieter than the medical ward. More peaceful.

…The room is utterly devoid of other people.

(Danny thinks of The Box. Danny thinks of being in The Box.)

(Danny doesn’t like remembering The Box.)

“I am scared,” Danny admits to his twitching thumbs, his fingers itching for a fidget toy or one of his physical therapy tools. Diana’s face immediately drops.

“Why are you scared?”

I’ll be alone Danny wants to say, but he doesn’t know the word for alone and he struggled with phrasing. “No…people here.”

“That is triewe. You would have more dīegolnes here,” Diana agrees, and straightens out of her crouch. “Is that good, or bad?”

It isn’t good and it isn’t bad…? Danny isn’t sure how to phrase it. It’s neither. Being alone is just scary.

“You not hurt me,” Danny tries, knowing he’s missing some connecting word in the middle. He ignores how Diana comes back to kneel beside him, because if he looks at her, he won’t say anything. “Do not.”

“No,” Diana says, from beside and below him, gentle, careful. “We do not.”

No. They don’t. Danny swallows. “Bad…hurt me.” He doesn’t know the word for Earth or planet or even downstairs, so he just meekly points downwards.

Diana stills. It’s like watching Vlad’s Maddie cat spot a bird to hunt down. Danny tries not to feel pinned. “On eorþegearde?” she asks, still light, still gentle. Danny can hear a shadow of steel, though, and he counts himself lucky that she’s never treated him like an enemy. Danny quickly nods. His eyes squeeze shut.

“Who?” Diana asks feather-light.

Danny doesn’t want to tell them what he is. Admitting the name of the agency hunting him itself would be given in.

…But maybe if he doesn’t say the name…and they...and they promised they'd help hide him...

He wants to be right. Danny wants to be right that they're nice, and that they want to help him. Danny wants to be right that they want to protect him. As long as he never, nevernotevernever tells them he's a ghost...

Maybe someone will help him. This time.

“Bad,” Danny repeats, because he genuinely has no idea how to translate?? “Wants…hurts me? For…” WHAT WORDS DOES HE KNOW? Danny gives up and just draws a y-shaped autopsy incision on his chest. It goes down from his collarbones to his belly button.

Diana watches. Her eyes are sharp.

“Do you feel safe with the staff dunstæger in medical?” Diana is quick on the ball with the question and Danny nods quickly—he’s never alone there, and no one’s ever hurt him, and people whose job it is to help people are always coming in and out, and Medical helps them too.

“Good,” Danny whispers. “Talk…talks to me.”

“Ealne weg,” Diana affirms firmly. Whatever that means. “We will cepa you safe.”

You safe and we is all Danny needs to hear. He could probably cry by himself, but Danny wants the comfort anyway; Diana lets Danny take her hands into his, and he lets tears fall into someone else’s grip instead of his own.

*

Bruce is halfway to the monitor room before he feels himself be picked up from underneath the armpits.

Usually finding himself at inappropriate heights involves horseplay from Clark. No one else would be so bold as to actually put their hands on him within the professional setting of the Watchtower—and Bruce has worked very, very hard on maintaining a reputation that keeps the handsier of his fellows at bay.

The culprit is not Clark this time. Bruce finds himself looking downward at Diana’s tearstained face, fury and resignation warring in her expression.

Bruce is careful not to sigh. “Wonder Woman. What is the matter?”

“Someone,” Diana grits out, voice carefully modulated to cut out her own pain, “Hurt my charge.”

On the one hand, the situation with their patient is exactly as Bruce had expected. The circumstance is tragic. The circumstance was predictable.

On the other, Diana's new upset means that Bruce now has more information to work with than ever before.

Bruce can work with this.

“Tell me everything.” Bruce’s voice is just as firm—even held midair like a cat. “I will help you in every way I can.”

[spacedlexi]

me restraining myself when i see lee and clem get left out of parent child video game duos

[studioboner]

talking about death to someone else whos also experienced loss or multiple loses is always so much different than talking to ppl who havent lost anyone yet

[moeblob]

AU where Brent is a drone to help out at crime scenes and offer input after Right finds the drone. And basically he befriends the really weird guy possibly controlling the drone but has his doubts as to how human the drone's source can be. So Right and Brent just go around trying to solve crimes while Right just calls the drone "Fuckwad (affectionate)".

[phoenixkaptain]

The scene of Anakin turning back to the Light and saving Luke is such a beautiful scene in so many ways, but especially from a character standpoint.

If you look at Darth Vader just in the movies, he doesn’t do things without a plan. He has a step two. Even if his step two is immensely dumb, he always seems to at least have some form of an idea where he wants to end up; he has a point B he’s trying to reach.

Part of what makes Vader a terrifying villain is that he always seems to anticipate what his opponent will do. He seems to know what they’ll do before they even think about what they’ll do. Very rarely is Darth Vader ever taken by surprise. Darth Vader is the character who proves how scary the Force can be. While Palpatine uses his Force lightning and can predict what his opponents will do, he never quite reaches the level Anakin is on, he never reaches that peak of knowing the next five steps his opponent is going to take, even as those next five steps change.

Palpatine doesn’t see Vader turning on him coming. Palpatine is not a Force user who can see the future, he uses the predictions Darth Plagueis made and he sticks to the outline provided by his former Master. He does everything he does and believes everything will be fine and has complete confidence in himself because Plagueis was just that good at predicting the future.

Darth Vader literally changes the future. He makes those predictions false. Him throwing Palpatine down a reactor shaft wasn’t in the books, him choosing his son wasn’t an option, the idea that a Sith lord as powerful as Darth Vader could turn back from the Dark Side is believed by the Jedi and Sith alike to be impossible. Darth Vader himself doesn’t even believe that he can turn back from the Dark Side. The only character who ever believes that Darth Vader can come back is Luke.

Darth Vader is fifteen steps ahead of his opponents. It’s very rare that he ever gets surprised. He always has a plan.

But when he saves Luke, he isn’t any of that. He leaps in without a plan, without any ideas of where he’s goung. He doesn’t know what will happen except that he’ll probably die. He doesn’t have a way out of this. This is the first time Anakin Skywalker ever does anything without already having a way out or immediately being able to come up with a way out.

Anakin was hotheaded and impulsive, yes, but Anakin from his introduction always has a plan B. And when he doesn’t have a plan B, he makes one. He is by far the most competent character in Star Wars, just from his ability to get himself and others out of trouble.

In the moment of turning back from the Dark, Anakin is listening to the Force. He’s listening to the Force as it tells him to save someone. The universal call to the Jedi, the inexplicable push that all Jedi feel and what ultimately led to the majority of Jedi dying, just because they couldn’t not listen when the Force told them to help. Anakin finally listens to it, finally answers it, he finally acts like a Jedi.

There’s no step two. There’s no way out. Doing this will end in his death. Darth Vader is already injured, and the only one who has the resources to put him back together is Sidious. To save Luke, Vader has to step into the lightning, which he knows all to well will ruin his suit. Choosing to save Luke is tantamount to choosing to die.

And he does it. He hesitates, but ultimately, he sacrifices himself for someone else. He goes in knowing that this won’t end with him being able to get out. He has no way out. There’s no plan B. His suit has gone from keeping him alive to being part of the reason he’s dying. He takes off his helmet accepting that he’ll die and being happy to die because he’s finally at peace, he finally feels the warmth of the Force, he finally sees his son with his own eyes, his son is finally looking at him with nothing but trust and worry for his wellbeing, he’s right where he wants to be.

He went from wanting to posess Luke to just being happy that Luke is there with him. That Luke is the one by his side when he dies, that he’s dying on the same side as Luke — Anakin is fine with this. He’s ready to die. He’s accepted it. He’s just happy that the last thing he’ll see is the product of his and Padme’s love for each other.

The scenes of Anakin in Return of the Jedi are beautiful. The title “Return of the Jedi” is so great for this movie, it’s perfect, okay, you don’t understand. It has so many meanings!! The Jedi returning could be referring to Luke, the main Jedi we follow, returning to the screen, or to Tatooine. It could be referring to the Jedi Order, since Luke takes on Yoda’s request to share his knowledge with others and, with Sidious dead, the Jedi Order has functionally returned, even if it is only one member strong. It could refer to Yoda returning, it could refer to Obi-Wan returning.

Or, Return of the Jedi could be referring to Anakin. Anakin Skywalker, the son of the Force. Anakin Skywalker, the only character powerful enough to change the future itself, the only Sith Lord powerful enough to stop being a Sith Lord. Anakin Skywalker, who has always done impossible things, who has always performed impossible feats, who is himself impossible. And he’s back. He’s returned. The Jedi returned.

[boygirlctommy]

hate having a genuine interest in christianity bcus there is No One in my life i can discuss it with. i sound too atheist to talk w religious people and too religious for the athiests lol

[etchif]

Having parents who also like your current interest is kind of strange what do you mean my dad has seen Starlight Express five times. What do you mean he knows the songs the names of the characters and their respective roles in the story. What do you mean. He shouldn't know this stuff this is my thing

[mossy-rot]

reading about autistic meltdowns is crazy. in retrospect maybe that time i ended up sobbing self isolating and lashing out at people because I couldn't figure out how to set up my laptop the same way it had been before might've been because of The Autism

[sugar-omi]

dude i have a sims 4 save of cove and my version of my mc cuz i like to self indulge 🤷🏾 AND EVERYTIME I LOAD UP THE GAME MY MC IS PREGNANT AND I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE💀 SHES ON HER 3RD KID RN💀

LMAOOO OMFG IM SO GLAD YOU BROUGHT UP SIMS BC MY SIM GOT PREGNANT BACK TO BACK....

so I bought growing together right?!?! made a new save w cove and my sim. (I have an old save w cove n my Sim but the kids on that save is alrdy grown. also I deleted all my cc n didn't wanna deal w makeover-ing 10+ sims)

anyway. had a kid right... all is good. I'm happy enough right.... well. I have risky woohoo. n i.... just forgot?!?! so when they woohooed to get their Fun need up. I clicked on the toilet n it said THROW UP.

MY SIM JUST HAD A BABY. THROW UP WHY? FOR WHAT.... I take a test. PREGANT. AGAIN.... LIKE LITERALLY DAY AFTER BIRTHINF THE FIRST KID

I check with mc command center.... ITS TWINS !!!!!

SO RIGHT NOW. I HAVE 3 INFANTS IN MY GAME. I HAVE RESORTED TO CHEATING THEIR NEEDS BC COVE N MY SIM ALMOST PISSED THEMSELVES 3 TIMES EACH. PASSED OUT SEVERAL TIMES.

YA FEED ONE KID, ANOTHER NEEDS FEEDINF. CHANGE ONE DIAPER. ANOTHER SHITS THEMSELVES.

so yeah... I've been cheating.

AND THEN THE MOMS AND LIZ CAME OVER RIGHT. TO HELP WITH BABY #1. BUT THE ONLY HELP THEY EXTENDED. WAS TO THEMSELVES TO MY FUCKING REFRIGERATOR WHERE THEY THEN HELPED THEMSELVES TO MY FOOD. THEY DIDNT COOK SHIT.... JUST GOT IN MY WAY AND ATE MY FOOD 😭😭😭😭😭😭

edit: help not me rambling even MORE in the tags....

[kebriones]

Don't judge a book by its cover and all that but I picked up the iliad from my parents' bookcase when i was 8 because it had horses on the outside and I thought it was a story about horses. (There was also hector's dead body in the same image but I just zeroed in on the horses)

[cosmic-ships]

Okay probably won't be on till later this evening. I got some (bs) to deal with at "home" (If we can even call it that.)

I. Am. Having. A. Terrible. Time. /srs :D

[carcarrot]

OH MY GOD A YEAR AGO TODAY .

[obstinaterixatrix]

I have a friend whose favorite series is a•t, which, Yknow, I am trying so hard to be polite about having extremely different tastes. but I cherish & support her and when it comes to bday presents I’m either waiting for someone to express a need/want for smth during any time of the year & just buying it & going ‘happy early/late birthday’ OR I’m planning months in advance (& sometimes collaborating w/ folks) for The Perfect Present but I can never bring myself to get something I’m halfhearted on… I’ve been on & off scrolling thru mercari/ebay/amazon/aliexpress and feeling very Eh abt the quality/size/price and was almost close to just getting two small cheap but cute plushies (13 cm & 10 cm :/), then on ebay I saw smth that was 20cm (good size) and actually very cute, but it was like $50 for the plush & $20 for shipping and while I cherish my pal I am not dropping $70 on a plushie (AND ESPECIALLY NOT ON A•T MERCH). so I do a exact match search of the specific brand and find one (1) online store selling it for $20 (incl shipping) (they’re having a 20% off sale). which is suspiciously low so I made sure to look up reviews outside the site & it looks legit, so I’m gonna buy it & hope that even if it’s not legit it’ll be an acceptable quality bootleg, and if it isn’t even that then I still have a month and a half to get one of my backup plans. in a week we’ll see if I get a Perfectionism Win.

[clownsnake]

OOOH HES YELLING

(Spoilers for Orv in the tags, bc I’m commentating now I guess)

[perexcri]

happy one year to her and one of my better opening lines for a fic <3

now, because i'm curious: