#prompt: becoming a monster

[serickswrites]

So Now Run

Warnings: blood, wounds, gun, gunshot, self sacrifice, loss of humanity, living weapon, tbh idk what tags are good for this one

Caretaker shook violently as they watched the battle wage longer. They hadn't signed up for this. Not really. They never wanted this. They hadn't wanted this for Whumpee.

Months ago, Caretaker thought they were making the right decision. Thought they were doing the right thing. Whumpee was sick and weak and Whumper was so strong. They had thought if they agreed to the terms that Organization gave them that Whumpee would be safe. That Whumpee would be healed. Caretaker hadn't really understood what they were agreeing to. Hadn't understood what Organization wanted to do to Whumpee.

At first, Whumpee seemed the same. They seemed to be getting stronger. They seemed to be healthy. At first, Whumpee seemed to be themself, but better. But as time wore on, Caretaker realized something was off.

What was worse is Whumpee knew it, too. Whumpee knew what Organization had done to them. What Organization was doing to them. And they agreed to let it happen, all in the name of stopping Whumper. All to protect Caretaker.

Whumpee felt their humanity slipping away piece by piece. Each droplet of blood that spilled from their skin was another drop of soul being ripped away. Each life they took was another little death in their soul. Each step closer to being the perfect weapon was a step further away from who they once were. Each moment was one step closer to becoming the monster they and everyone else feared.

But it was all worth it to protect Caretaker.

Caretaker watched Whumpee fire their gun over and over. Watched Whumpee become splattered with blood. Watched as their affect became flatter and flatter. Watched as Whumpee's humanity dissolved away completely until all that was left was a husk of a person that was now a weapon.

"Whumpee, come with me! We can leave all this behind. We can get you to safety! Come on, Whumpee!" Caretaker shouted above the din of the battle.

Whumpee stared at Caretaker with empty eyes. Distantly they felt their heart break. Distantly they felt sadness fill them. Distantly they felt themself mourn who they once were but could no longer be. They couldn't do as Caretaker asked. Couldn't do any of that. There was nothing left of them to save. But they could still save Caretaker.

"You put the gun in my hand," Whumpee said coldly. This was the only way. This was the only way to get Caretaker to leave them. To give up on them. To forget about them and be safe. Far, far away from them. This was the only way. "So now, run." Whumpee let the deadness fill their eyes. Let the monster lurking beneath their skin out. They would never hurt Caretaker. But Caretaker didn't know that.

Caretaker flinched back with a yelp. "Whumpee--"

"Run, Caretaker. Run, or you'll be next." Whumpee said, feeling the last pieces of their heart break at the fear in Caretaker's gaze. This was for the best. This would keep Caretaker safe. They became the monster so that Caretaker would be safe. So that Caretaker would live.

Whumpee watched as Caretaker ran from them. Watched as they only person they loved run from them. Watched as the only person who cared about them run from them. Watched as the last of their humanity slipped away completely. This was the only way. Whumpee closed their eyes for a moment, letting the grief consume them. And then they turned to the battle once more, the perfect weapon loosed amongst the enemy.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat

[starry-bi-sky]

DPXDC Idea: Mother of Monsters Dan(yal)

Specifically Fem!Dan because I made this in mind with my Fem Danyal Au bUT. The best part about Dan is that I get to play dress up with her, and Fem Dark Dany is gonna go by Layal (pronounced lae-el) because it means "the nights" and it sounds similar to Danyal, and I think she'd choose that name to mock Dany. ANYWAYS

Mother of Monsters Danyal. She may be evil but she's an Al Ghul at her core (even with vlad's soul merged with hers - however, considering that Layal looks and sounds like Dany, she considers that soul to be the more dominant one.) and loves animals. And she might be heartless, but she adores the monsters of the infinite realms.

Mother of Monsters Layal who hates everyone but utterly dotes and adores on every manner of beast she comes across. Stealing the eggs and infant young beasts of the Infinite Realms to raise as her own because she wanted them. Her own island full of monsters, a monstrous menagerie of her own. She steals most often from poachers or exotic pet keepers and other menageries -- the full grown beasties can keep their young.

And with every monster she raises, she can shapeshift their features onto herself, allowing her to change her shape from humanish to any matter of monster or hybrid creature. She calls herself their mother, and them her children. Her precious little babies, capable of incredible mass destruction and mayhem.

From little griffins the size of kittens, to stymphalian vulture chicks, and leviathan young hatching from eggs the size of her pinkie, to creatures native of the ghost zone that didn't even have names in the living realm. There really wasn't a limit to what or who she would take in and she didn't limit herself to any form of mythology. If they were beasts and they were unwanted, she wanted them. And as such, amassed her own mini army of "children" willing to listen to her any command.

Earth doesn't know what hit it when she attacks them.

There are many monstrous forms she could take on, the first one I've thought of is a combination of various serpentine/reptilian features. The body of a naga -- her lower half long and serpentine, her upper still human -- with spiked fins connecting from the bottom of her arms to her sides, ever seen Sinbad where Eris goes "you might have seen my likeness on the temple walls" and her arms do that fin thingy? Same concept. Her hands are webbed and taloned, perfect for slicing through the skin of the living, and her teeth are needle-sharp and shark like. Her hair can either be spiny and feathery-like like the spines of a lionfish, or frilled like a frilled-neck lizard. It's perfect for dealing and doting on her reptilian and amphibian-inclined darlings.

I'm more of a fan of aus where Dan is a sibling of Danny's rather than their kid, so Layal's redemption(..?? probation?) proceeds with her legally becoming Danyal's "twin" sister, who had been lost to the foster system before the Fentons adopted Dany, and was only recently reunited with her. The two of them look so alike that the lie is easy to take root and spread.

Layal is very indignant to the fact that she's now ten years in the past and has to restart her menagerie all over again. Do you know how much blood and sweat went into raising those children? How dare you separate them from their mummy. Although she'll admit she does miss their juvenile years, so she won't mind (too much) needing to raising them again. Dany is helping her retrieve all of them though, dammit.

long story short: epic the musical's "Scylla" has a CHOKEHOLD on me and this is the result of it

Unlike her Dan counterpart, Layal's voice is dancing and sirenic. It's purposely alluring and motherly, in order to lure people into a false sense of security until she feeds them to her "children." Echidna doesn't have shit on her. She almost seems friendly and reasonable, until you get too close and realize it was all an act and she drops it to metaphorically swallow you whole. She's like an anglerfish that way. She and Dany both sound like Scylla from Epic.

[ghostreblogging]

Damian stands before the corpse of his brother.

Is it a corpse? He doesn't know.

They had come to this lonely stretch of land that was once called amity park because something something. Damian hadn't really cared. It was supposed to be a simple get in and get out situation . They were already much busier with their own cases .

Eerie ruined houses and buildings seemed to paint a rather depressing picture. Because you could feel that people used to live here. Half drunken bottles and stollers were out. Just like if everyone just disappeares while walking. But the rotting flesh In the strollers seemed to suggest that darker things have happened here. The everyday norm seemed to frame the gateway to hell. The green glow was the only thing that was truly out of the ordinary.

Perhaps it's just an opening to another Lazarus pit.

But It doesn't feel like a normal Lazarus pit . Damian would know that better than anyone. It somehow felt brighter. And an electric buzz permeated the air. It felt sickening. The destroyed sign makes somewhat of an archway for the entrance. It says Fen- something something? The letter had long fallen off from the elements

"God, bloody hell. This place just reeks of infinite realms," the laughing magician commented before pulling another cigarette from his pocket.

"Infinite realms?" Father grunted

"Don't get your panties twisted. There's a reason I didn't tell you about them, the more you know the harder they are to deal with"

There were more mindless chatter between his family. But Damian ignored that in favor of staring down the archway . It felt like a cold shiver on his back and a horrible burning sensation on the palm of his right hand. Weird.

Damian knew that what awaited him was death. He didn't know whose though.

"Do you feel that?" Damian asked before he could stop himself

Grayson turned to look at him, raising his eyebrow. "Babybat, what? What feeling?"

Damian knew he already walked into communication.

"The cold shiver, and the burning sensation on your right palm"

"Ha! Just sounds like your scared demon brat"

"Forget it"

And they promptly walked into hell.

Damian I've missed you so much! But it's dangerous here. You'll get caught by him

Inside Damian felt as if he was walking for years. All with that , horrible disgusting smell. Burnt flesh and plastic. So overwhelming that his eyes stung even through his mask. He had to wake with his eyes half closed. Stumbling his way through the uneven terrain.

Winding corridors made out of crushed rubble.

Damian , be careful there is sharp glass there

Eerie glow that never seems to get closer.

Damian? I really don't like the Lazarus pits

It was dark and an encompassing ceiling above him felt like spiderwebs, a trap. But beyond that you could see the sky.

Hey Damian? Let's go stargazing again!

Hey Damian please don't go further

Something kept bothering him but he didn't know what. But he kept on walking.

And eventually they found themselves in a big chamber. Lazarus pit waters filled the caver like a lake. Beautiful flowers that seemed misplaced grow up to the sky.

The sky.

Maybe that was the source of the discomfort?. They came in at dawn.

It shouldn't have been dark .

And the stars were wrong. How long did they walk for?

Long enough. Just go please

There was a huge rift. Beyond were Lazarus green lands with floating landscapes. Sometimes you could see something big float by . Damian wonders if they were living or just a part of the landscape.

Beautifully enchanting. Like freedom, feeling of wind on your ski-

And then Damian's eyes fell on the thing. How could he have not noticed that.

Please get away that is not me that is not me that is not me that is not me

Like some kind of a lost puppet it was hung in front of the rift. That was the source of the smell. A white suit that once had been sterile, burnt and fused with the flesh below. Dark burnt hair that hung and thankfully concealed the empty eyes.

For once Damian was thankful he couldn't see something. He just felt that if he saw the thing's eyes, he would never recover.

Because that face.

He knew that face

It was one of he had forgotten a long time ago.

Damian please that is not me plEase. I aM LOSiNg my SeLF

A brother that went missing during a mission.

"God what the fuck is that" Grayson's voice broke Damian's trance.

Damian frowned. It didn't feel appropriate to talk here.

Hide. Hide hide hide hide

A voice broke the silence soon after.

"I advise you to leave immediately" a familiar voice. From the oh so familiar corpse . It grated against his ears. And the corpse moved in tandem. Exaggerated and cartoonish but in a horrid way like a machine struggling to run in their later years. It felt like it was coming from everywhere at once.

Hey Damian let's not go here

Damian it's not a good idea to be here take you family and leave

Damian, let's go another route

I can barely maintain luciedicy please listen to me

"I advice you to leave immediately" just like clockwork. The exact same tone, the exact same horrid little dance.

"Well we can't. Well we can't before we know why In the everliving earth there is a direct portal to the infinite realms here." Constantine seemed to have nonchalance as he spoke but Damian saw his cold sweat. And eyes darting , trying to look anywhere but directly at it .

The corpse directly ignored Constantine. It turned to him . Each movement sharp and gutted.

"Damian we are finally together again :) "

[unironicallytes]

POV you walked in on the Father Son Keerilth-Monstrosity Cookout and one of them is significantly happier to see you

[luxaofhesperides]

Post-Apocalypse + Soulmate AU ; requested by @burr-burr!

When Danny was a kid, he used to imagine how the world would end. It was never a zombie apocalypse or the fallout of a nuclear war, but the death of the sun, the expansion of their star in death that would swallow their planet whole, leaving no survivors.

It would have been nicer than the post-apocalyptic world he stands in now, knowing that it’s his fault the world has ended. 

He’s still struggling to wrap his head around it. To understand that all of this is his fault because he cheated on one test, desperate to pass after being unable to study for it with how exhausting and time consuming fighting ghosts is. Everywhere he looks, there’s more destruction. His own home is rubble, with only the partially untouched Ops Center remaining to let him know that this is where he once lived.

The rest of Amity Park is in worse shape. Buildings are hollowed out, the skeletons of their foundations visible, if they still remain standing. Most homes have been burned to the ground, leaving blackened corners of walls and nothing else. The roads are cracked and difficult to walk through, as if an earthquake tore through the city. Cars are scattered along the road, overturned or left abandoned, doors still open.

Danny has yet to find any bodies. He doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not. 

He’s only caught a few glimpses of his future self, the cause of all this, and can’t bring himself to chase after that monster. He feels sick to his stomach knowing what he’ll become. 

That monster has to be stopped. The world has already ended, but that doesn’t mean his future self can be allowed to go on like this. If there are any survivors, they need protection. They need to know they’ll be safe to try to start rebuilding, and that can only happen if his future self is dead.

Danny knows what he has to do; he has a responsibility to protect what little remains of Amity Park, and to do that, he needs to kill himself. 

But his head it spinning from the horror of the situation and his throat is tightening up the way it only does when he’s about to have a panic attack.

He needs to stop his future self, but he also can’t stay another second in the ruins of Amity Park without destroying himself.

The guilt sits heavy in his chest as he goes ghost and takes to the sky, flying blindly towards the setting sun. Danny doesn’t know where he’s going, and he doesn’t really care. He just needs to get away for a bit, until he can calm down and put together a plan of attack so he can take out his future self in one go.

He just…

He never thought he’d be a monster. But here they are.

Flying away from Amity Park reveals the truly harrowing extent to which this world has suffered under his future self’s hands. There are no intact cities or towns. Roads are broken beyond repair, highways littered with empty cars, most bridges crumbling into the rivers below them, and everything is covered in overgrowth. All signs of humanity’s careful cultivation of the world has been erased. The earth takes back what humans took from it, covering everything in green. 

There is no movement. No people. Barely any birds flying beneath him. 

What remains of the world is silence.

Danny is terrified that there’s no one left. That his future self has so thoroughly destroyed the earth that no human survivors remain. 

That gives his guidance, some idea of where to go: a big city. Any big city, really. 

He flies lower, searching for some sort of landmark, or a sign that will tell him where he’s going. A rusted over green sign farther down the road tells him that he’s 50 miles from Gotham.

Oh, Danny thinks, Maybe Batman can help me.

If anyone could survive the end of the world, it would be the superheroes, right? If anyone stands a chance at defeating his future self, it would be a superhero. Superman might have been a better choice, but Metropolis is the opposite direction and multiple states away; Danny’s not sure he can make it before his future self catches wind of him and hunts him down. 

Danny has no doubt about what would happen to him if he’s caught; there’s a reason he hasn’t seen any ghosts around, after all.

Gotham is a city of secrets and rumors. What little he’s heard of it is baffling and, frankly, insane. There’s no city in the country like it and Gothamites prefer it that way, stubbornly loving the home that will kill them. For all the manmade horrors they survive on the daily, they would be more prepared for the end of the world than anyone else. 

Gotham may be another casualty of his future self’s destruction, but it also offers him hope.

Danny follows the broken road towards Gotham, pushing himself to fly faster than he ever has before. What should have been a half hour flight is completed in fifteen minutes. 

As soon as the towering buildings of Gotham, dark and semi destroyed, come into view, Danny drops from the sky and returns to human form. The strain from pushing himself has exhausted him and he feels it like an ache in his chest, his heart twisting and trying to burst from how hard it’s beating. 

He collapses to his hands and knees and gasps for breath on the outskirts of Gotham. 

It takes a good few minutes to calm down and breathe normally, then another to gather his strength to stand up and begin walking. 

The world is eerily quiet as he enters the city, feeling the chill fall upon him as he is consumed by the shadows of tall buildings. It’s much more intact that Amity Park, but there’s no denying the destruction that still surrounds him. Buildings are empty and worn down, decaying and slowly being consumed by new growth. Burnt out husks of overturned cars fill the street, leaving Danny to carefully pick his way around them, unable to walk in a straight line. 

He feels like the only person in the world. He feels like he’s being watched by a hungry eyes. 

Danny shivers and walks faster. 

The deeper he goes into the city, the more he starts to hope that he’s not alone in this world. There’s small signs of life: the smell of smoke, recently burned, certain streets cleaned up, makeshift walls constructed from rubble to block access to certain areas of each block.

He swears he can see people move above his head, but anytime he looks up, the windows of every building are empty. 

“Batman,” he whispers to himself, “I just need to find Batman.”

He turns a corner and continues walking. Apartment buildings give way to stores and businesses, all with their windows broken and nothing on the shelves. Then the buildings end abruptly and he’s left staring at an overgrown park that resembles a jungle more than it does a part of the city.

The scent of something sweet lingers in the air. Fruit, perhaps, or flowers. 

If he was left in the aftermath of an apocalypse, he would go to where he could find growing food. If there’s anyone left in Gotham, he’s willing to bet they’re in here, surviving off of what food can be grown in the confines of the park. 

Danny crosses the road and takes three steps onto the grass before someone appears beside him and points an electrified baton at him.

“Who are you?” they demand, eyes hidden behind a cracked helmet, but the bottom half of their face is visible, revealing scars crossing on dark skin. 

Danny takes a step back, eyeing the electric baton warily, and lifts his hands to show he means no harm. “Danny. I came from out of town. I was hoping to find people here.”

“You don’t look like you’ve been traveling.”

His clothes are clean and intact and he has none of the world-weariness that weighs down this Gothamite. Danny winces, and says, “My situation is kinda complicated. But I did just get here. I’m looking for help, actually. Do you know where I could find Batman?”

There’s a long moment of tense silence, then he hears a quiet sigh and the helmet comes off. An exhausted looking man looks at him with one blind eye, turned a milky white, and his voice is low and stricken as he says, “Batman’s dead. But maybe I can help you.”

“Batman’s dead?!” Danny repeats, shocked.

“Yeah. Sacrificed himself in one of the last times Phantom attacked Gotham. Got me and Nightwing out of that encounter alive. We’re really the only heroes left in Gotham, not that there’s much need anymore with everyone trying to survive.”

Phantom killed Batman. His future self killed Batman. 

Danny feels sick to his stomach.

“Oh,” he manages to say. 

The man’s expression softens. “Don’t worry, we’ll help you as much as we can. Why don’t you come on in? Ivy can get you some food if you’re hungry.”

Danny nods numbly as he follows the man deeper into the park. He walks with ease, taking paths that only become visible when he walks them, leaving Danny to follow close behind. It takes some time before he realizes that the plants are moving out of their way just enough that they don’t trip, and when he looks back, the path is covered again, hidden from sight.

He’s taken to the heart of the forest, where the trees shift to the side to reveal a large encampment of survivors all living together. Beds are strung up as hammocks between trees and rope ladders dangle from branches to help people move up and down. The ground is full of small fire pits, a few in use to make make food, and sections in the back full of vegetable and herb patches, separated by berry bushes. 

The people here all look tired and worn down, but they still smile and speak in light voices, adjusted to a new life after surviving so much horror and destruction. He even spots a few people using powers, or just looking different, including one large man who looks like a crocodile. 

“Pick up another stray?” a raspy voice asks, humor lighting the tone. They both turn to see a woman with long red hair and a green tint to her skin be lowered to the ground by a vine. She’s also heavily scarred and her right arm is completely gone, replaced by a wooden limb covered in moss that moves as if it’s always been a part of her body.

“Hey Ivy,” the man greets, “I don’t think this one is staying. He came to Gotham looking for Batman.”

The words make Ivy’s gaze sharpen, and Danny feels a trickle of dread go down his spine. She’s dangerous and standing before her feels as if he’s in the mouth of a hungry beast.

“Is that so,” she says, voice flat. “How interesting. I’ll let you two talk somewhere more private.” Her gaze flicks to the side, and when Danny turns to look, he can see some of the people in the encampment observing them warily, bodies tense and poised to either flee or attack.

Ivy turns and the plants part for her. Danny waits for the man to begin walking before he follows, trying not to feel trapped as the plants close the path behind him. She takes them to a small pond full of water lilies, gives the man a careful look, then leaves, swallowed up by the plants.

“Is everything okay?” Danny asks hesitantly. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble.”

“Nah, you’re good,” the man replies, “It’s just that people don’t trust me much.”

“Why? You’ve been really nice.”

The man shrugs. “My soulmate is Phantom. He’s the one responsible for doing all this and killing almost everyone we love. I didn’t know until the first time I fought him, but they hate anything to do with Phantom, including me.”

Danny’s heart stutters in his chest. This is his soulmate.

Most people don’t subscribe to the belief that they’re meant to be with their soulmate. Meeting your soulmate is rare enough that most people don’t try, and plenty of people have spoken of how important it is to have a variety of relationships, to not close yourself off for the slightest chance of meeting your soulmate. 

Danny never looked for his; he didn’t want to subject them to his parents, and then he became a halfa and gave up on all dreams of having a normal life or any relationship with someone who didn’t know he was Phantom.

And now he’s here, in a ruined future, standing before his soulmate who understandably hates him for destroying the world. 

“You’re Phantom’s soulmate,” Danny breathes. His hands are shaking. He wants to cry.

The man sighs. “Yeah. I am. Not that it’s stopped him from trying to kill me. Don’t worry, kid, I’m not working with him. I swear.”

“He’s your soulmate and he hurt you.”

“He hurt everyone,” he says, then gestures at his blind eye. “This is barely a thing compared to what he did to other heroes.”

Danny can’t find the words to expression his horror at seeing the damage he did to his own soulmate. His future self is heartless and cruel and bloodthirsty. He has to be stopped.

He doesn’t want to kill his soulmate. 

“I came here for Batman,” Danny says, “Because I thought he could help me stop Phantom.”

“That’s rough, kid. Batman couldn’t beat Phantom. I don’t think anyone can. We’ve tried, but most heroes are dead and we can’t just go out there and risk the lives of everyone here. We gotta focus on survival, not revenge.”

“I have to stop Phantom.”

“Sorry kid, but that’s a terrible idea. Don’t go out there trying to be a hero. You can stay here, alright? Ivy will get you set up and the others will help you settle in.”

Danny takes a step back and shakes his head. “No. I have to stop him. It has to be me.”

“And why is that?”

“Because I’m Phantom,” Danny whispers. 

The man immediately reaches for his electric batons again, taking a step back. “Not funny, kid,” he says with a tense voice. 

“I’m not joking. I am Phantom, just from the past. I’m not supposed to be here.”

“You’re Phantom?” the man repeats. “You. You’re just a kid, and you’re going to destroy the world one day?”

“I don’t want this to happen! That’s why I need to go back, so I can stop the event that will set me down this path. And to go back, I need to defeat the Phantom that exists here.”

“He’ll kill you, kid.”

“That still solves the problem, doesn’t it? If I die here, then he’ll never live long enough to destroy the world. He’ll die too.”

The man stares at him with cold eyes, then turns away, dropping his hands away from the batons. “Don’t turn this into a suicide mission, kid,” he says. “The Phantom who’s here isn’t you. You don’t have to pay for his crimes. Just… stay here and I’ll go fight Phantom.”

“He already hurt you,” Danny says. 

“What’s a little more hurt? I can handle it.”

“No,” Danny says firmly. He shoves away the fear and hurt in his heart and finds his strength in determination. No more running away. No more hiding. 

The timeline should not exist. He can’t hesitate at the thought of erasing this version of his soulmate from existence; he’s tired and injured and an outcast in the only community that still exists in Gotham. He deserves better. Everyone here does.

And to give them a better life, Danny needs to stop this one from ever happening.

“This is my future. It’s my responsibility. I’ll stop it and make sure this never happens. And… I’m sorry for everything I did.”

“It’s not your fault, Danny. You’re not this version of Phantom.”

That’s not at all true, since Danny’s actions lead to the end of the world, but he’s not going to argue when he’s preparing to fight a stronger, more ruthless version of himself. He takes a deep breath, then goes ghost and floats into the air. 

“Before I go,” he begins, hesitantly, “What’s your name? Since you’re apparently my soulmate.”

The man smiles sadly and answers, “Duke. If we ever meet in your time, tell that version of me to look for my mom’s favorite book.”

It’s an odd request, but if it’s important enough to be asked for, then Danny will do it. “Your mom’s favorite book,” he repeats, “Got it.”

“Take care, Danny. Good luck out there.”

Danny nods and takes one last look at his soulmate, older and worn down, stubbornly getting through each long day, and swears to make things better.

Then he flies off, ready to fight his future self and make things right again. 

. . .

He thinks of his soulmate for years after he’s back in the present. The timeline where his future self exists is gone and the world is safe, but he still remembers the pain he caused Duke. 

When the time comes to apply to universities, Danny sets his sights on Gotham. His parents take him on a trip during spring break to tour the campus, and it’s after the tour, as he wanders around on his own, that he bumps into a student walking out of a building.

“Sorry,” they both say at the same time, reaching for each other to help each other keep their balance. 

As soon as their hands meet, it’s as if lightning runs through him. From the look on the other guy’s face, he felt it to. 

This is his soulmate.

“Duke,” Danny says, amazed and disbelieving all at once. And the request crosses his mind, something he wondered about almost every night since he returned to his time. “Look for your mom’s favorite book.”

“How—?”

“I met you in the future. You asked me to take back a message for the you that’s here. So: look for your mom’s favorite book. What does that mean, by the way? I never asked.”

Duke blinks, then slowly retracts his hands from Danny’s. “My mom’s favorite book was a hand bound journal from my dad. They were soulmates and he wrote about their first year in a relationship together. It’s full of pictures, and she loved it more than anything. That message is to remind me to have faith in soulmates, to believe that something good can happen to me.”

“Oh! That’s… wow, sorry, I didn’t mean to pry into something so personal.”

Duke shrugs. “It’s fine. I needed the reminder. I would have already run away by now if you didn’t say that. You already know my name, but I think now’s a good time to introduce ourselves.”

“Right!” Danny says, flustered. He sticks his hand out, which Duke shakes with an amused smile. “I’m Danny. Fenton. I’m coming here next semester.”

“Duke Thomas. I’m a freshman here and I’d really love to get your number.”

He’s not hitting on Danny, not really, but it still makes him blush. The way Duke looks at him is full of light and laughter, so different from the exhausted and wary way he looked in the future now rewritten. 

This is what the future version of himself tried to kill. He doesn’t understand how anyone could ever hurt Duke when he’s so full of life. 

But he’s safe now. Everyone is; Danny changed the future and what lies ahead is wholly unknown to him.

The world is safe and full of promise. 

No matter what comes, Danny is sure he and Duke are going to be just fine.

[mechazushi]

Long story short on the video, it's just a breakdown about mummies in history as it correlates to the history of its media as well. It's still a good and informative break down (Definitely check it out and support the channel), but as it got to the point of breaking down the tropes seen in movies about mummies and how many of them were seen in previous novelizations, I got to thinking about a story idea of my own.

It kinda revolves around the whole distinction between mummies that are powerful sorcerers that get the benefit of looking like a human and less powerful mummies that are forced to shamble around and be stuck in their bandages. It also dips into the "The mummy is looking to brink back their dead lover who just so happens to be reincarnated." trope as well as "bandage mummies only exist as servants/violent body guards".

So it takes place in the height of England's Egypt Craze where tomb "Unboxing" was still a thing and some British f*cks as well as their ✨gorgeous female assistant✨start poking around in a tomb. It's a lesser known tomb and everyone makes it clear that this was dedicated to some high ranking guard that made a noble sacrifice or something so they decided to make the guy's funeral a little more special. The British guys write it off and go see if there's a bigger tomb to plunder investigate (I feel like I should also mention one of these guys is supposed to be the female's betrothed love interest that immediately gets ntr'ed once the actual green flag walks, or should I say shambles, into the picture.)

Female Assistant sticks around to explore the first chamber more deeply and shenanigans happen. She reads some passages on the wall that has foreshadowing bits into it, maybe translates a scroll or two by candle light because she can't sleep due to the ✨visions✨ or some shit, and ends up accidentally resurrecting the noble guard from earlier. It's initially the lower tier type of mummy, the type that's somewhat mindless and still wrapped in bandages. Shit goes down, maybe it tries to kill the other tomb raiders explorers but it doesn't pan out (personally, I see it as a loony-toons type moment with the Mummy trying to kill them, the Assistant foiling every attempt, and the British guys none-the-wiser) Eventually it's discovered that the mummy seems to recognize the Assistant as someone he once knew and now only obeys her commands.

The Assistant uses that to her advantage and manages to drag it/him back to their lodgings. I have nothing specific for this part, other than that the next third and over of the movie (I see this as a movie. Or a webcomic if you wanna torture yourself.) is just Tarzan and Jane antics where they fall in love with each other. It's also happening alongside a side plot where the mummy is slowly gaining memories/intelligence/the ability to speak as it/he slowly sheds his bandages in the process. (I don't picture him losing all of the bandages. I still like a little bit of monster left to f*ck with. And yes, it's handsome.) Basically he slowly starts reverting back to the noble guard he once was as he remembers why he sacrificed himself in the first place and why the Female Assistant looks so familiar to him.

The last third cuts back to the British guys and them getting to meet the monkey's paw consequence of their hubris. They do the same thing that the Assistant did, only they end up resurrecting an ancient and powerful sorcerer that was sealed away for humanity's greater good. Maybe they strike a deal with the guy, maybe they run like the little b*tches that they are, who knows. Anyway, the mummy guard's spider sense pings and he realizes who ended up getting reawakened. Come to find out, the sorcerer also thinks the Female Assistant looks pretty familiar and does some wibbly-wobbly magic to confirm that, yes, she is some reincarnation of a long dead princess(/competing sorcerer maybe? It would be a nice double twist if you're into that sh*t)

Big fight ensues, the good guys win, and the Female assistant rides off into the sunset on an Excelsior Model 19 with the Mummy boyfriend.

The End.

[monster-noises]

The dawning and unfathomable horror of looking around realizing... Well I haven't really done much have I?

[talltoontales]

- [Pandora's Box] -

PROMPT: A mundane and antiquated sub-agency in the US Government was the 1st to stumble across AGI. An internal investigation determined a press release unnecessary. Unaware of the power they control, 12 bureaucrats are assembled to determine the policy and implementation of their new tool.

PROMPT BY: No-Assistance1503 (Reddit)

STARTED WRITING: 03/26/2024

It’s an empty box room with no doors, windows, or vents. A large disk lowers from the ceiling, splitting into rings that create a dome above the floor. A cylinder then rises from the floor, and twelve boxes shift out from the cylinder, appearing like a table.

Pandora Network: SECURE

Eleven green bars of light begin to appear on the table’s surface as a faint wave of blue light emits from the ceiling rings.

Zeta-Blu: ONLINE Delta-Wit: ONLINE Gamma-Brn: ONLINE Lambda-Gry: ONLINE Theta-Ylw: ONLINE Kappa-Pur: ONLINE Psi-Grn: ONLINE Epsilon-Red: ONLINE Tau-Orn: ONLINE Omicron-Tel: ONLINE Iota-Pnk: ONLINE

Each name displays on the bars of lights as multiple colored orbs appear hovering over the boxes.

Translator: ONLINE. You may begin the discussion.

“Of course, Rho would be late to their own summons,” says Delta. “Disgraceful.”

“Hey, not every day we get to use this thing,” says Omicron. " And if it’s Rho calling, it’s gotta be something interesting?”

“Or another proposition for their ridiculous space military program,” says Iota. “We should be focused on fixing problems here, not antagonizing aliens.”

“Not all of us have great off-planet relations, Iota,” says Kappa. “Some must prepare for the day where we may have to protect our own kind.”

“Who’s fault is that?” asks Iota.

“God bless, not this again,” says Zeta. “I’ll vote to mute the both ya if you keep bringing this up!” A few of the other orbs speak up in agreement. Iota groans as their orb lowers closer to their seat.

Rho-Blk: ONLINE

A black orb appears over the last empty seat, breathing heavily.

“I’m sorry…I’m sorry I’m late,” says Rho. “It’s been nonstop for a while, lost track of time.”

“About damn time,” says Delta. “Why did you summon us?” Rho takes a few deep breaths as the ticking sound of a keyboard plays through his orb. Holographic images of a statue of Shiva, Jesus Christ on the cross, and another statue of Caishen appear at the center of the table.

“You’ve got to be kiddin me,” groans Zeta.

“Over the years, each of our respective government organizations has found objects that resonate with faint traces of, quote, “Godly Essence.” Says Rho. With the press of a button, the Shiva statue turns into a cracked black bead, the cross into a rubber mallet with a wooden handle, and the Caishen statue into a new renminbi coin (Chinese currency). “These objects have been classified as “God Idols” and have been known to grant those who wield them with abilities related to said god.

“Yes, yes, we know all this!” Delta interrupts. “Can we finally move on to why you have called us?!”

“Just making sure we’re on the same page,” says Rho. “Not all of us are experts on all things godly. Speaking of which, Lambda, correct me if I’m wrong. God Idols can only be created from objects that have come in direct contact with gods, their power, or chosen offspring?”

“That is true,” says Lambda. “Their power may also be shared with anything bonded to the God Idol, as we discovered when my people encountered a truck with a Hoplite helmet branded with the mark of Hephaestus welded to the hood.”

“I heard about that,” says Epsilon. “The vehicle was nearly unstoppable.”

“The operative word being nearly,” says Lambda. “Every vehicle needs gas eventually. Apologies, Rho, you may continue.”

“Thanks,” says Rho. “So, can anyone tell me about this God Idol?” An image of a rod appears. It comprises several different metals with circular markings forming a ring around the center. Copies of the rod split off from the original, floating over to the other eleven orbs. The room is mostly silent, save for the quiet mumblings of people talking away from their monitors. Over time, one by one, each of the other orbs returns.

“Could it be an Eldrich or Dimensional God?” asks Theta.

“Impossible,” says Kappa. “The energy is too contained, too controlled. A combination of God Idols?”

“The energy’s too unique,” says Zeta, “and even if it were, God Idols rarely meld, let alone completely.”

“Possibly a New God?” asks Psi.

“Unlikely,” says Iota, “the gods are gossips. Between Lambda, Gamma, and I, we would have heard something long before a New God could create a God Idol.”

“What if a god didn’t create it?” asks Rho. “What if a man did?”

“Rho, while I appreciate you researching existential science,” says Lambda, “but that’s…impossible.”

“Is it?” asks Rho.

“Yes!” says Delta.

“What creates a god?” asks Rho. “An idea, raised by belief, given form by praise, creates a god. Someone desperately wants it to rain, so much so that they cry out to the sky for it to happen, and when it rains, they praise the sky. Thus, Anzar, the God of Rain, is born above Africa, Chaac for the Mayans, and good ole Zeus for the Greeks.”

“A bit oversimplified,” says Iota.

“But not wrong,” says Rho. “So, what if, instead of calling out above, I called out to…Delta. I put all of my faith into the idea that whatever hardship I faced, Delta would save me.”

“You’d be mad and run one of those cults with the poison juice bowl,” says Delta.

“Not if I was right,” says Rho. A holographic screen appears over the table, playing a video of an experiment. Inside a white room, five people are asleep on gurneys with helmets strapped to their heads. The helmets have a few devices on them, as well as empty tubes that connect to the ceiling. In the middle of the room is the God Idol sitting on a pedestal at the center of a ring on the floor.

A bald, pale man in a white jumpsuit walks to the God Idle. Once inside the ring, a glass tube rises from the floor containing the man. The man looks past the camera, nods, and grips the God Idle firmly with both hands. The helmets' devices activate, and a glowing blue liquid flows through the tubes from the ceiling into the helmets. The five subjects’ eyes open, pupils rolling into the back of their heads, their bodies convulsing as they repeat, “Lucas will save me!” frantically.

As the subjects chant faster, an unnatural wind enters the tube with Lucas, whipping around him like a tornado. Lucas struggles to hold onto the God Idol. His knees begin to buckle, and he jerks his body away from the idol at random. Small bolts of electricity begin to jump from the glass tube as the man screams. The subjects' noses begin to bleed, their speech becomes inaudible, and in a flash of light, the video cuts to static.

“The God Idol was found when an unnamed American Government Agency raided a lab, not a cult, a lab outside of Old Forge, New York, at around midnight three weeks ago,” says Rho. “When the men found the room where this footage was shot, they claimed that the room was so cold that they could feel it in their blood, that looking at the God Idol froze them in place. Sound familiar?”

“Death,” says Psi. “But why…”

“Because the idol did its job,” says Rho, “it saved them.” The video rewinds to just before the flash of light. The screen changes the display to a blue tint, showing five glowing white blurs going from each subject toward the God Idol.

“A soul flask?” says Iota, “like that of Pharaoh Anubis’ flail?”

“But all gods respect Death’s vessel and his reapers,” says Psi, “thus no soul should be able to defy Death’s grasp!”

“Unless a god willed it so,” said Delta, “That man wasn’t a god. He was a conduit, a vessel to transfer the Godly Essence from the subjects to the…”

“Artificial God Idol,” says Rho, “or AGI-Krypt, as we’ve been calling it. After thorough testing, we’ve found that the five souls trapped inside are bound completely to whoever wields the AGI. They can enter and leave bodies, communicate telepathically through the idol, and are unable to be taken by Death’s vessel or his reapers.”

“Dear God,” says Zeta. “What about the scientists? What was recovered from the laboratory.”

“Easy,” says Rho, “copies were sent while you looked over the AGI earlier.”

“We must destroy that…abomination!” yells Gamma.

“Whoa!” Rho interjects.

“I agree,” says Lambda, “to defy Death is to resign yourself to a fate even the Eldrich fear.”

“…But what is there to fear of a being that can grasp you?” asks Kappa.

“You cannot be serious?” says Iota. “Not even you would be mad enough to defy Death?!”

“No,” says Kappa, “but as we all know, Death tends to cast his rage as wide as it can reach, and many innocents will be taken in its pursuit of justice. This AGI could prevent unnecessary casualties.”

“This…is true,” says Psi.

“Psi, one such as yourself should know better than…” says Gamma.

“I do, but I am also one of a select few of us who still must pay off the debt my predecessors,” says Psi, “and this could help with that.”

“Besides,” says Epsilon, “Death’s probably already begun its crusade. All we can do now is mitigate the damage.”

“You think using the thing that’s pissing off Death just by existing will mitigate the damage?” asks Omicron, “are you outta ya mind?” The room breaks down into a pile of arguments, save for one member.

“ENOUGH!” yells Zeta. The room quickly falls silent. “I call for a vote. Whichever side wins, we will follow. However, if we do end up using the AGI, those against are allowed to recuse themselves either now or in the future. Are we in agreement?”

“…Aye…”

Voting Commencing…

. . . . . . Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed the story! If you have any comments, critiques, or criticisms, please don't be afraid to let me hear 'em (as long as they're constructive (or funny)). Stay safe, drink water, and be kind to yourself and others. ToonMan, AWAY!

[greywake]

I've been working on this one for a little while now and it just keeps growing!

So I decided to break it up and post the first section as a chapter.

I hope you enjoy!

[spellsparkler]

saw a poll today about how peoples' characters regard the dream visitor in its initial guise... I truly don't think row gives a rat's ass about it up until the reveal. if they really take any of its bait it's not until after the tentacles come out

[mysterymessmachine]

Just as I thought I saw movement, the mist skittered out from the bushes and settled into the safety of the river's uneasy surface. It was bizarre. What kind of terrible creature can frighten the mist? My mind raced through every possiblity as my hands made quicker and quicker work of this evening's unfortunate burden. I only had a moment to get rid of him before my cover was blown.

I hadn't quite gotten the last few weighted parcels unloaded before I saw him there in the water, drenched with both sweat and guilt. We locked eyes and it shook some part of me deeply. A hollow man shaking with rage, the most dangerous predator, is merely inches from me. His hands are stained, and so are the bits he pulls from his bag to scatter into the water.

I could feel myself trembling. I'd never felt so disturbed just by someone's presence that it made me this... damp. The last piece hit the water, distracting enough to make my escape. I ran all the way home, promising every god in earshot that I'd never make the same mistakes.

Just imagine my surprise when he had beaten me home. His cold, empty eyes drilled into me across the bathroom sink, and as we both scrubbed away the stains, I knew that I'd never be rid of him.

You’re a killer dumping your latest victim into the river. Just as you’re about to be done, you spot another person. Doing exactly the same thing. And they’ve just spotted you, too.

[sadlynotthevoid]

Okay, imagine Eichi Tenshouin gets isekaied into Villainess Level 99, not having idea what's going on with this world. Still, Eichi being Eichi, he starts planning ahead and all. Assess his familial situation, his social situation, change whatever he thinks should be changed, seek if anyone from his past life is in this world as well—

Then bro squishes an itsy bitsy slime and discards most of it because what??? What on Earth was that? Why do his lungs suddenly work almost well? Is this what breathing feels like for most people? It's so nice.

And that's how he finds out about leveling up and how that actually makes his body stronger and healthier, for goodness sake.

Many years later, a reincarnated Keito enters the kingdom's academy's cafeteria, only to see what looks like a young Eichi sitting in a table with a poker-faced teen, nodding and writting down to anything she's saying.

"...and for light magic the better should be the opposite. Of course, if you really want to maximize the results, you should also use a Demon Summoning flute..."

"I see. Then the time I would waste by travelling between my location and the location of the dungeon would be efficiently spent into leveling up then as well."

What did he stumble into?

[coffeeangelinabox]

Febuwhump Day #14: Becoming the Monster

Leader knows it’s her. Only a monster would hate members of her own team for actions they only did to protect her. And hell, before even that, she’s a military leader. She has known and chosen to send men to their deaths. No one who wasn’t a monster could have so easily done what she did to Three.

One worries he’s becoming the people who have done this to them. He’s killed before, but he’s never before imagined inflicting pain on another the way he dreams of it now, beating Whumper with sticks or chains, cutting into him, making him suffer.

Medic fears the way she has changed while she’s here. It hasn’t been (can’t have been) that long. A couple of weeks at most, and already she’s a person she doesn’t recognise. She had drained herself all-but dry to bring Second back, but she’s recovering. But she hasn;t told the others how much. Hasn’t even suggested using her magic to so much as safeguard Smallest from the pain or to help Two sleep.

Two accepts that she’s a monster. Whatever was driving her body, it entered her without the slightest resistance. She had no time even to fear it, no effort was made to throw it out. And then her own hands, her own feet, her own strength brutalised someone else. The others are too honourable to throw her to the wolves in this place, but that doesn’t change what she is. 

Smallest wishes she could become stronger, harder and yes, darker. She is starting to realise that is what will be needed to survive this place. Instead, she seems to be regressing: crying, begging, waking in the night with a scream on her lips. She clings to whichever one of the Team will hold her, and wishes she was the kind of fearsome beast who could shelter them.

Second opens his eyes, and, for the first time, there’s a spark of self behind them. He tries to fight to a sitting position, but his body has forgotten how to respond to such commands. He gurgles out a sound, a growl, and within moments they are all clustered around him. Even Smallest, who is barely more mobile than he is, still moving gingerly in deference to a combination of pain and Medic’s dire warnings of what will happen if she ends up with a punctured lung. 

For a moment, there is no recognition behind his eyes, then his face relaxes. “Mes amis,” his voice is gravelly, unused. 

Leader closes her eyes, lips moving in a prayer of relief and thanks, hands clasped tightly. 

One clasps his shoulder in brief relief and gives a genuine smile. “Knew you were faking, you bastard.”

Medic feels such relief she’s almost dizzy with it. “I thought…Oh, Second. I’m sorry, I’m nowhere near strong enough to use a soul stone. I’m…”

Two wraps her arms tightly around herself, gives a faint flicker of a smile. Not because she isn’t relieved, she is, oh she is. They’re hers, she loves them, she’d have given anything to have Second back and now he is. But he is more helpless in this moment than she has ever seen him and she fears what she could do to him if the demon that had wrapped itself so easily around her soul resurfaces. 

Smallest bursts into tears and reaches out her arms, but can’t twist herself to hold him in his recumbent position. “I missed you,” she finds herself sobbing, knowing she sounds about nine. 

Second smiles at all of them, reassures, offers sarcastic comments, answers Medic’s questions to prove his brain is in full working order. He barely notices that there’s a part of him aware of their warmth, of the heartbeats he can half hear, of the pulse he can actually see beating hard and fast in Leader’s throat. 

He knows they have nothing, that they would give him everything they could, so he doesn’t ask for food, even as his whole being yearns in a way that makes him feel sick for something hot and rich and salty.

He dries Smallest’s tears. He draws Two out of herself, at least a little, noting with a soldier’s eye how her knuckles are split and Smallest’s bruises speak of small, hard fists. He  lets Medic check him over. He mocks One for not being man enough to have returned from the dead. He offers Leader his easy strength, even without being able to move and without words, makes sure she knows in his steady gaze that she is no longer the only one watching over the rest. 

He dreams of red and of tearing into meat so fresh it screams.

[febuwhump]

FEBUWHUMP 2025 PROMPT LIST

this year's prompts were chosen through an open suggestion poll (in which we received over 4,000 prompts) and a subsequent vote, where 5,019 votes were submitted. the top 28 make up the core prompts, and the febuwhump mod's favourites that remain have become the alternates. the first prompt in the 28, "vocal chords", was our number one prompt of the vote, with 1,625 total votes.

i am so insanely excited to see what you all create with these prompts, and i hope they're inspiring enough to trigger a whole month's worth of creativity for you!

as an extra added challenge, some creators will be undertaking another, smaller goal, of including apples in each of their prompt fills as an ode to the wildly popular prompt suggestion of "apples" that didn't make it through to the poll. this is totally optional, but is a good extra challenge if you'd like to take part in it!

if you have any questions, please check out the faq before sending an ask, or skim the blog's previously asked questions to see if your question has already been answered.

please note: notifying the blog of completionist status will happen through a google form released towards the end of febuwhump, and if you are interested in joining the febuwhmp discord server, the link will be available to do so for one week towards the end of january.

full write-up of prompts and rules under the cut:

FEBUWHUMP 2025 PROMPTS:

DAY 1: vocal chords

DAY 2: holding back tears

DAY 3: pinned down

DAY 4: hivemind

DAY 5: not trusting reality

DAY 6: forced to stay awake

DAY 7: alternate timeline self

DAY 8: bleeding out

DAY 9: necromancy

DAY 10: magic exhaustion

DAY 11: demonic possession

DAY 12: used as practice

DAY 13: “i don’t trust anyone else”

DAY 14: becoming the monster

DAY 15: icarus

DAY 16: eaten alive

DAY 17: power instability

DAY 18: living weapon

DAY 19: death wish

DAY 20: “i did good right?”

DAY 21: put on display

DAY 22: “grab the little one”

DAY 23: gunshot wound

DAY 24: forced to beg

DAY 25: bound and gagged

DAY 26: concealing an injury

DAY 27: post-victory collapse

DAY 28: recovery

ALTERNATE PROMPTS:

is there a specific day’s prompt you don’t want to fill? here are ten alternatives you can switch them out for!

ALT 1: major character death

ALT 2: blowtorch

ALT 3: pick who dies

ALT 4: body swap

ALT 5: die a hero

ALT 6: emergency surgery

ALT 7: body horror

ALT 8: on the run

ALT 9: in another life

ALT 10: feeding tube

RULES:

soft rules:

prompts should be answered in the form of whump

creators can produce any kind of media they want

you don't have to complete all the prompts to take part

you can use the prompts after the event ends

you can complete them in tandem with any other event

you can post to any platform you want, however this blog will only be sharing links and prompt fills posted to tumblr

if you want to be featured on the hall of fame, you must inform this blog by the 3rd of march that you have completed all of the days using the provided form

if you have questions, consult the faq before asking

hard rules:

to be a completionist, you must complete all 28 prompts, in order, in whatever medium you want, before the end of the event

(specifically for being featured on the blog)

when uploading febuwhump content to tumblr, please use the tags:

febuwhump (or febuwhump2025)

the relevant day's tag e.g. febuwhumpday1, febuwhumpday2...

nsfw (if relevant)

any important trigger warnings

you can also tag the blog: @febuwhump

I cannot guarantee your work will be archived on the blog. a random selection of properly tagged works will be reblogged every day of february.

[killersurge]

tag dump

[yearoftheotpevent]

hello fan creators!

Year of the OTP is officially back for 2025 with a new set of prompts!

we've switched some of the prompt categories around in an effort to make the event more inclusive of all kinds of fanworks. we've also included song prompts this year! the playlist is on spotify here.

we want to give a huge thank you to everyone who participated in the last event - it grew so much larger than we ever expected and it's truly amazing how you all took our last set of prompts and made so many wonderful things. keep it up!

a couple housekeeping notes: we will not be reblogging every entry this year. mods will keep an eye on the blog if you have any questions, but the reblogs were too much last time. thank you for your understanding!

we will be closing the 2023 collection on December 31. thank you for your continued participation, but it's time to look forward!

the link for the new collection will be posted here January 1.

we're looking forward to seeing what you create this year!

alt text below the cut.

Year of the OTP 2025

The Rules: the Ao3 collection accepts any /-ship works inspired by a prompt from this sheet The Challenge: make 12 works for one ship in one year, using prompts from each month

*you do not need to do the challenge to post to the AO3 collection, as long as you follow the rules*

January first kiss ♦ “may I have this dance” ♦ sharing clothes ♦ BDSM AU ♦ stockholm syndrome ♦ Strong – One Direction

February Valentine’s Day ♦ “it made me think of you” ♦ bed sharing ♦ multiple penetration ♦ mind control/mind break ♦ Like Real People Do – Hozier

March fresh starts ♦ “what are you doing with that”♦ florist/tattoo artist ♦ phone sex ♦ major character death ♦ Take Care – Drake

April pranks ♦ “right in front of my salad” ♦ running away together ♦ dom bottom/sub top ♦ raised to be a killer ♦ Drops of Jupiter – Train

May hanahaki ♦ “we’re dating? since when?” ♦ body swap ♦ magical sex toys ♦ stalking ♦ Paper Rings – Taylor Swift

June pride ♦ “I can’t get you out of my mind” ♦ relationship reveal ♦ unconventional sex positions ♦ paying a debt with your body ♦ Good Looking – Dixon Dallas

July vacation together ♦ “I like my _ how I like my coffee” ♦ kidfic ♦ mutual masturbation ♦ dehumanization ♦ You May Be Right – Billy Joel

August Sports AU ♦ “you’re thinking too much”♦ cooking together ♦ object insertion/ penetration ♦ becoming a monster ♦ You Shook Me All Night Long – AC/DC

September high school/college sweethearts ♦ “come here” ♦ date night gone wrong ♦ semi-public sex ♦ abduction ♦ Thinking Bout You – Frank Ocean

October costumes ♦ “boo” ♦ online dating ♦ shibari ♦ mutual non-con ♦ Mr. Brightside – The Killers

November camping ♦ “are you sure” ♦ touch-starved ♦ cockwarming ♦ abusive relationship ♦ A Thousand Years – Christina Perri

December holiday traditions ♦ “where are you taking me” ♦ bathing together ♦ food play ♦ tortured for information ♦ Everything Is Alright – Laura Shigihara