#stumbling face first into a predator that can absolutely rock his shit

[void-of-unparalled-chaos]

Rending Flesh From the Bone

Ah yes, the dpxdc "drabble" I decided to write for Halloween. Honestly not too enthused with how it came out but posting it anyway. I feel like some parts feel a bit rushed and there might be some plotholes. Oh well. As always, feel free to add on if you so desire.

TW: Gore, Cannibalism, Vomiting, Zalgo Text

Translations for the Zalgo are available at the end.

AO3 version

   “Are you sure about this, Hood?”

   Dick stared at the entrance of the abandoned subway tunnel, Jason practically vibrating out of his armor beside him. 

   For once, it was Jason who had broken into Dick’s apartment and not the other way around. He was rambling something about the Joker and needing Dick’s help, and who was Dick to say no? His little brother never sought him out on his own, let alone asked for his help. Never. Dick was so proud! If he rewarded this behavior then maybe Jason would do it again, and somehow that would lead to Dick being able to give him his highly sought-after best big brother hugs whenever he wanted. Dick was still figuring out the intermediate steps.

  The point is that Dick needed to help him, regardless of if this was all based on a gut feeling and not even a whisper that the Joker was around let alone planning anything. What the hell, Dick thought. Sometimes gut feelings are right, and push comes to shove, Dick will follow Red Hood around Gotham until his paranoia dies down. Then Dick can lovingly bully him into brother bonding time.

   So here they were, staring into the gaping mouth of an unused tunnel.

   There are worse ways he could have spent his night.

   Jason grunts, fists clenched as they gaze into the blackness. “It’s almost Halloween. You know how these freaks get this time of year.”

   Dick concedes the point.  

   “Come on,” Jason bumps against his shoulder as he stalks toward the blackness, “He’s down there I just know it.”

   Dick shrugs and follows him in.

   Something about it is oppressive. Like something is warning them to turn back or face the consequences. Dick swallows. He shouldn’t be getting so worked up over this. He had been in closed dark spaces like this before, tighter ones even! 

  “Dick.”

   Jason is pointing to the ground. Dark splatters. Blood. Fresh, and more than just a little nosebleed. 

   They make their way further in, following the convenient blood trail even as the urge to turn around gets stronger. They only walk a few feet before a loud scream breaks the silence.

   “I fucking told ya Nightwing!” 

   Dick grunts in response as they sprint down the tunnel, following the blood down twists and turns.

   The two vigilantes slide to a stop as the tunnel breaks into a new one. There is something in this new tunnel. Something large and glowing. The Joker is screaming as it bats him around. 

   Dick can’t bring himself to do anything but freeze, watching and assessing. 

   The first thing he sees is the crown. It floats crookedly above the creature’s white hair, bathing the tunnel in light with its green fiery glow. The being’s face almost looks humanoid, with long ears tapering into points. Its body is long and spindly like a man who had been left starving on an island for several weeks. The vertebrae in its neck are visible even underneath its skin. The spinous processes of the vertebrae break through the flesh, creating a long row of protruding bones that clack and rattle as the spine moves. Its pelvis juts out as if only a thin layer of skin is covering it. The ribcage is on the outside of its body like some kind of fucked up turtle shell. Space was underneath it, the purples and blues of nebulas and the blackness of night and twinkling stars and planets rested underneath the bones.

  The creature has the Joker by the neck. It reminds Dick of a cat Damian had fostered, one that had kittens and would carry them gently between her jaws. There is nothing gentle about this though. Red blood drips down to the ground as the Joker thrashes to try and free himself. The jaws tighten viciously around him and the creature shakes, flinging him around like a chew toy before slamming him down into the ground with a growl.

   A skull flashes underneath its face as if its skin and cartilage are merely a transparent overlay. Sharp, jagged bone peaks rise up smoothly from its mandible in a mimicry of teeth.

   The creature’s jaws are still wrapped around the Joker’s throat. He’s scrambling, screeching underneath the being despite the teeth that should be cutting into his vocal cords.  The Joker scratches at its chest, trying to push it away. It merely makes a low staticky hissing noise, one of its hands pinning him down by the shoulder. 

    The other arm raises upwards in the air. It's too long for the body of the creature, fingers tapering into sharp points. 

   The claws slash downwards. 

   The Joker choked on a scream as the digits tore his chest open like it were tissue paper. Mouth still wrapped around his throat, the being flipped a flap of skin and fat upwards like it was turning the page of a book. 

   The Joker continued to struggle, blood and something green gurgling out of his mouth. The being maneuvered itself until it crouched to Joker’s side, twisting his neck with it. 

  The Joker stilled.

   At first, Dick thought he was dead, but then he saw movement inside his chest wound. 

   His lungs.

   His lungs were still moving.

   Dick can see his lungs breathing.

   The creature reaches its hand back down into the Joker’s chest, wrenching the ribcage open with a snap. The Joker begins to struggle once more, red blood and green liquid splattering on the ground.

   One of the clawed hands replaced its teeth, pinning the Joker’s head down as it stuck its face inside the chest cavity. The Joker suddenly froze. When its face remerged a glowing violet orb was held between its teeth. Red and green dripped from its face.

   The green was familiar.

   Glowing green.

   …

   …Lazarus water?

   The tooth-like protrusions pierce the orb with a crack.

   The Joker falls silent.

   His lungs are no longer moving.

   The being’s head tilts back, the shattered orb disappearing down its gullet. It hunches back down over the corpse. The slimy wet sounds of its hands and head digging into the body are sickening. Dick watches as its head remerges with what looks like a kidney. The kidney follows the orb.

   Dick snaps out of his shock, but not quick enough to muffle his strangled gasp. 

   The being catches sight of them, green eyes, lazarus green, boring into them. Dick can see the dark hollows of the skull’s orbits underneath them. His head pounds.

   The creature began to stand. Its joints, too many joints, creaked as it unfolded its legs. It seemed like it struggled to maneuver its stiff limbs. Like it’s fighting against rigor mortis Dick noted absently.  

   Now standing at full height, the being’s crown nearly scraped the top of the ten-foot ceiling. Its maw parted, blue vapor billowing out between the spiked protrusions that were its teeth. The putrid stench of death and burning flesh that invaded the tunnel had Dick gagging. He quietly covered his mouth as he tried to bite back the bile in his throat.

   He glanced back at his brother to find that Jason had taken a step back. It was impossible to see his expression under the helmet, but Dick could read the tightening of his shoulders. Fear. Deep, primal fear. The kind of fear you feel when you know there are no more options. When you know fighting or running is pointless.

   Here, at this moment, the infamous Red Hood looked less like a feared crime lord vigilante and more like a one-week-old gazelle face to face with a lion.

   Dick reached to pull Jason out of sight but the pounding between his eyes made him uncoordinated. He tripped over his own feet and crashed into Jason’s side, gripping his shoulder with shaking fingers as he righted himself. Jason didn’t budge, remaining stock still despite the extra weight of his older brother against him. 

   The creature stared at them, the piercing green glow of its eyes brightening with a spur of power. Its head tilted to the side until it came to rest at well over ninety degrees. A pointed, frostbitten tongue lolled out between its teeth to lick its bloodied face clean.

   “C̷o̷m̶p̴a̵n̵y̵?̵” It sounded like the desolation of space, the static of electricity, the explosion of a star, the final screech before death.

   The space trapped in its chest began to bleed through its ribs, twinkling stars and asteroids and galaxies escaping the confines of their prison to drip down the being’s waist. It ran over its legs, building and thickening until a long serpentine tail had replaced the limbs entirely. Even as the coils moved, the stars and planets stayed in place as if the tail was merely a window. Watching it made Dick motion sick.

  Even as the elongated spines stretching out of its back clanked together in the mimicry of a death rattle, the creature made no move toward them. Another puff of foul-smelling mist escaped its mouth.

   “Y̶o̷u̸ ̶s̵h̴o̷u̴l̵d̶ ̴b̶e̵ ̸m̴o̴r̷e̸ ̴c̷a̴r̸e̴f̴u̷l̵,̷ ̸l̴i̴t̷t̶l̷e̸ ̶g̶h̸o̷s̴t̶l̷i̸n̷g̸.̸” It’s voice boomed, “Y̴o̸u̵ ̶a̸r̶e̵ ̷n̷o̶ ̷m̵a̸t̸c̶h̴ ̷f̴o̵r̴ ̸m̶o̵s̷t̷ ̴s̸p̵i̴r̴i̷t̴s̴ ̵a̸s̸ ̷y̵o̵u̵n̷g̴ ̴a̷s̶ ̶y̶o̵u̶ ̷a̸r̵e̵.̷ ̷E̶s̸p̷e̸c̵i̶a̶l̴l̷y̶ ̶n̴o̵t̷ ̴o̶n̴ ̶S̵a̶m̷h̷a̶i̷n̷.̶”

   The two brothers remained frozen in place. The stars in its tail flickered until millions of eyes were boring into Dick’s soul. With a stuttering gasp, Dick stepped back again. Jason refused to budge despite his urging. The next time Dick blinked the eyes were stars again.

   The being chuckled at them, “N̵o̴ ̴n̶e̸e̵d̷ ̵t̵o̶ ̵f̸e̸a̶r̵,̸ ̵g̸h̵o̶s̶t̶l̸i̴n̴g̶.̸ ̴I̸ ̵d̴o̵ ̷n̶o̶t̴ ̶w̶i̸s̵h̴ ̵y̸o̴u̸ ̷n̷o̵r̴ ̸y̴o̶u̴r̸ ̴f̵r̸a̷i̵d̷ ̴h̵a̵r̷m̸.̶” Dick found that hard to believe considering that they had just watched it eat the Joker’s kidney, “Y̸o̵u̴ ̸a̷r̴e̵ ̵v̵e̸r̸y̶ ̴l̵u̶c̸k̶y̴ ̶i̶t̵ ̴w̷a̴s̴ ̴m̶e̵ ̸w̴h̷o̸ ̸y̶o̷u̵ ̷c̸a̸m̷e̴ ̵a̶c̴r̷o̸s̸s̵ ̶r̸a̴t̷h̷e̵r̸ ̷t̵h̵a̷n̴ ̴a̵n̷o̴t̶h̶e̶r̵ ̷s̴p̷i̸r̸i̴t̸.̵ ̷M̶a̷n̶y̶ ̵w̴o̸u̶l̴d̸ ̷h̸a̶v̸e̷ ̵e̷a̷t̴e̴n̵ ̸y̸o̴u̶ ̴b̵y̷ ̵n̴o̴w̶.̴”

  “I-” Jason finally choked out, “What?”

  The being lowered itself until it was at eye level with Jason. It evaluated him once more before jerking back with what seemed to be an expression of surprise. “O̷h̷ ̸l̵i̶t̷t̵l̷e̵ ̴g̴h̴o̶s̴t̴,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̴ ̸a̴r̵e̸ ̵m̴u̸c̴h̴ ̸y̸o̷u̸n̴g̴e̴r̶ ̵t̶h̷a̶n̸ ̶I̵ ̵h̸a̷d̸ ̴t̵h̵o̵u̸g̸h̵t̵!̵ ̴Y̴o̵u̶r̵ ̷c̵o̴r̸e̵ ̵i̴s�� ̷n̸e̷w̶ ̶a̷n̷d̵ ̸u̶n̶d̴e̷r̵n̴o̸u̸r̶i̶s̸h̵e̴d̴.̶ ̸N̴o̵ ̴w̸o̴n̸d̵e̶r̶ ̷I̷ ̴h̵a̸d̴ ̷n̵o̷t̴ ̴s̸e̸n̴s̵e̵d̵ ̸y̸o̶u̶ ̶b̷e̵f̵o̷r̷e̶!̴ ̶H̵a̵v̷e̶ ̶y̶o̷u̴ ̷b̵e̵e̵n̵ ̶e̸a̷t̸i̷n̴g̶?̸”

   Its tone seemed almost doting, motherly even. The image was broken by the fact that it was currently leaning closer toward them, supporting itself on what was left of the Joker’s exposed ribcage. 

   Jason shook his head in dumbfounded horror.

  The creature seemed to take it as an answer, humming in what felt like parental disappointment. “Y̶o̶u̷ ̵n̵e̴e̴d̸ ̶t̷o̷ ̷t̶a̵k̸e̵ ̷b̴e̸t̵t̵e̸r̶ ̷c̸a̶r̸e̴ ̶o̷f̶ ̸y̴o̴u̴r̵s̸e̷l̶f̴,̴ ̵l̷i̸t̴t̷l̶e̵ ̶g̶h̵o̸s̵t̴.̵ ̵I̵'̴v̸e̴ ̴n̵e̸v̴e̶r̸ ̸s̵e̵e̵n̷ ̴s̵u̶c̵h̵ ̸a̶n̴ ̸u̶n̷d̷e̸r̶n̶o̴u̸r̸i̸s̵h̸e̵d̶ ̷c̶o̶r̷e̴.̸ ̷Y̷o̶u̴ ̸m̴u̶s̷t̷ ̸b̷e̷ ̷a̵b̵l̷e̸ ̴t̸o̴ ̸f̸e̸e̶l̷ ̸t̶h̵e̸ ̸e̸f̷f̵e̷c̷t̵s̴.̶ ̵A̴r̴e̴ ̶y̴o̴u̶ ̴i̵n̸ ̸p̸a̵i̴n̶?̴”

   Dick knew that he was. If it wasn’t the emotional torment of the pit madness it was chronic pain. There had been many nights where he had to tend to his brother, trying everything from painkillers to ice packs to numbing cream in an attempt to stop it.

   Jason nodded hesitantly, “Yes…” he took his helmet off, letting it drop to the ground. His eyes were burning lazarus green, “It hurts all the time… like there’s a fire burning in my chest. It gets hotter and hotter and hotter until I feel like my brain is gonna melt outta my ears.”

   The creature slithered closer with a rumbling coo. It offered a hand to Jason. Its fingers curled unnaturally. It looked like it had an extra knuckle. “C̷o̷m̷e̴ ̵h̸e̷r̸e̴,̵ ̸g̴h̷o̴s̵t̷l̷i̸n̸g̶.̴ ̴I̷ ̷w̶i̴l̶l̸ ̸s̸h̴a̸r̸e̴ ̷m̶y̶ ̸c̷a̴t̵c̶h̴.̷ ̷I̵ ̷c̵a̴n̷ ̶s̶e̴n̴s̴e̵ ̸t̵h̴e̸ ̵c̴o̵n̷n̸e̵c̴t̶i̷o̷n̷ ̶t̴h̴i̵s̵ ̷r̸e̸v̷e̷n̴a̴n̸t̴ ̴h̴a̶s̸ ̸t̷o̷ ̸y̶o̶u̵.̶ ̷A̸s̸ ̵y̷o̷u̶r̴ ̷k̷i̵l̸l̶e̶r̶,̶ ̵f̵e̸a̵s̷t̴i̴n̸g̶ ̸o̴n̷ ̵h̵i̷m̶ ̸w̷i̴l̵l̵ ̴h̷a̸v̶e̷ ̶e̸x̶t̸r̶a̴ ̶b̶e̷n̸e̵f̸i̵t̷s̴.̸”

   Jason reaches out to accept the hand. Dick throws himself between them, “Little Wing, what the hell! You aren’t seriously going to… you're not…”

   “I… I need it, Dick.” Jason wiped drool from his lips. Dick caught the flash of fanged teeth, sharper than they should have been. “I don’t know how to explain it but I just- I’m so fucking hungry.”

   Dick… Dick wasn’t scared of Jason. He wasn’t. But at that moment, he felt like he needed to run. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t abandon his little brother to this…thing.

   “I̸ ̵u̶n̵d̴e̸r̶s̸t̵a̷n̴d̵ ̷y̶o̴u̶r̴ ̸a̵p̶p̷r̸e̶h̴e̷n̶s̷i̵o̸n̵.̵” the being addressed him, Dick struggled to look it in the eyes, the pounding of his head increasing, “A̶s̷ ̷a̷ ̶l̴i̷v̵i̴n̷g̴ ̷i̸t̸ ̴f̴e̵e̶l̸s̷ ̴w̷r̶o̶n̶g̵,̶ ̶s̴i̶c̵k̴e̴n̴i̶n̵g̴ ̶e̴v̷e̷n̸.̷ ̴I̸t̷ ̵t̷o̸o̶k̷ ̸m̵e̴ ̶a̶ ̷l̶o̸n̴g̸ ̸t̵i̴m̷e̵ ̵t̵o̸ ̷c̵o̵m̶e̶ ̶t̶o̴ ̷t̷e̸r̷m̸s̸ ̸w̶i̶t̴h̸ ̴i̸t̴.̷ ̵I̶ ̴u̸n̵d̶e̵r̷s̸t̶a̴n̶d̸.̸ ̴B̷u̴t̵ ̴i̵t̷ ̸i̵s̷ ̸s̸o̵m̸e̸t̷h̶i̸n̷g̶ ̷o̷u̸r̵ ̷s̴p̸e̷c̷i̵e̵s̸ ̷n̸e̸e̶d̵s̸.̵ ̸S̵u̶r̸e̷l̸y̶ ̴y̷o̷u̴ ̸m̶u̷s̴t̷ ̴h̴a̸v̸e̷ ̷w̴i̴t̸n̴e̸s̴s̵e̶d̸ ̶t̴h̷e̴ ̴e̴f̴f̶e̷c̴t̴s̶ ̶o̴f̴ ̶s̵t̶a̶r̴v̷a̸t̶i̶o̶n̴ ̵o̴n̸ ̸y̵o̷u̶r̷ ̶f̵r̵a̶i̷d̸m̶a̷t̶e̸?̵”

  Moments flash through Dick’s head. Jason breathes as he struggles against the pit so hard that Dick starts to worry his brother will pop a lung. Jason looked at the remains of another destroyed glass in dismay, before practically sprinting to hole himself up somewhere Dick couldn’t find him. Jason sobs into his shirt, begging him to make it stop, to take the pain away as Dick watches on helplessly.

   “I̷t̵ ̷w̸i̷l̵l̶ ̵o̷n̶l̵y̷ ̷g̷e̵t̵ ̷w̴o̸r̴s̸e̶ ̶i̷f̷ ̶h̴e̷ ̷d̵o̶e̶s̴n̸'̶t̷ ̸e̵a̶t̴.̵ ̶E̴v̶e̵n̵t̸u̴a̴l̸l̵y̸,̸ ̵t̴h̴e̵ ̵s̶t̶a̶r̴v̷a̵t̶i̸o̵n̵ ̸w̴i̷l̵l̵ ̶b̴e̶ ̶s̶o̷ ̸b̷a̶d̸ ̷h̷i̸s̵ ̴c̷o̴r̵e̵ ̷w̷i̸l̷l̴ ̷s̷e̵l̸f̵-̷c̴a̷n̴n̷i̵b̷a̶l̵i̵z̴e̷.̵”

   “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

   “I̶ ̷a̵m̵ ̷K̶i̶n̷g̷ ̷P̶h̵a̴n̸t̵o̶m̵ ̵o̸f̷ ̵t̶h̴e̸ ̶I̴n̶f̶i̵n̷i̶t̸e̶ ̶R̷e̶a̸l̴m̷s̴,̷ ̶t̴h̷e̶ ̵A̸n̶c̵i̶e̵n̶t̵ ̵o̵f̵ ̵S̸p̸a̶c̸e̸,̶ ̶P̷r̸o̶t̶e̴c̵t̸o̷r̷ ̴o̶f̷ ̶t̷h̸e̸ ̵L̷i̸v̵i̷n̸g̸ ̸a̵n̷d̴ ̸D̷e̸a̴d̴,̷ ̷t̵h̷e̴ ̶O̸n̸e̴ ̸W̶h̶o̶ ̷L̷i̴e̴s̷ ̸I̴n̶ ̴B̴e̷t̸w̴e̵e̴n̵,̷ ̶t̴h̶e̷ ̴K̵i̴n̶g̵ ̸o̷f̶ ̶G̶h̷o̴s̸t̷s̵.̴” What almost looks like a smile splits across his face, “I̴f̸ ̶I̶ ̴w̵e̶r̴e̵ ̷n̵o̸t̵ ̶a̴w̷a̸r̷e̶ ̶o̶f̵ ̶m̷y̸ ̵p̶e̴o̶p̷l̴e̸'̵s̵ ̸n̷e̶e̴d̵s̵ ̷I̴ ̶w̵o̷u̸l̵d̴ ̷b̴e̶ ̴a̸ ̷v̴e̵r̵y̷ ̷p̴o̸o̷r̸ ̴k̶i̸n̷g̸ ̶i̵n̶d̷e̸e̷d̴.̸”

   Dick turns back to Jason. His brother hasn’t looked this small since before his death. He’s shaking. He looks desperate.

   Dick steps to the side.

   Jason lets out a stuttering breath but remains still otherwise, hands clenched at his sides.

   The newly dubbed King Phantom returns to the corpse, digging through fluid and meat. “I̴f̷ ̸i̴t̷ ̷i̶s̴ ̸a̸n̸y̴ ̵c̴o̵n̸s̸o̵l̶a̸t̷i̷o̵n̶,̷ ̵h̶e̵ ̷w̶i̴l̵l̵ ̸n̴o̷t̸ ̶n̷e̸e̶d̴ ̵t̶o̵ ̶e̸a̵t̴ ̴o̷f̴t̶e̸n̶.̸ ̸O̵n̴c̸e̸ ̴o̸r̴ ̸t̶w̷i̴c̸e̵ ̷e̸v̷e̸r̸y̶ ̷f̴i̶f̸t̵y̶ ̵y̸e̷a̴r̶s̶ ̸o̷r̴ ̷s̴o̵ ̷s̵h̵o̶u̶l̵d̶ ̸b̶e̸ ̸e̴n̸o̵u̸g̵h̴ ̶t̸o̶ ̸k̶e̴e̵p̶ ̴h̶i̶m̷ ̶r̸e̴l̶a̷t̷i̸v̶e̷l̶y̸ ̵h̶e̵a̸l̶t̸h̶y̴.̶“ He pulls out the Joker's liver with bloody claws. "C̷o̴m̷e̵ ̶h̵e̸r̸e̷,̵ ̷g̸h̵o̴s̷t̷l̵i̸n̴g̸," he purrs, offering it to Jason as if it were an apple instead of a human organ, "I̴ ̴k̴n̶o̷w̸ ̷y̸o̴u̵'̶r̵e̷ ̴h̶u̶n̷g̶r̸y̷.̶ ̵T̴h̵e̸ ̷e̶c̴t̴o̵p̷l̶a̶s̷m̷ ̸i̴n̴ ̶h̷e̷r̴e̵ ̵w̵i̵l̵l̴ ̵h̵e̴l̶p̵ ̵b̵o̵o̸s̶t̵ ̸y̶o̵u̵r̵ ̷o̸w̷n̸ ̶e̶c̷t̴o̴ ̸p̶r̶o̷d̴u̷c̴t̴i̶o̴n̵.̵"

   Jason reaches for it, eyes flicking uncertainly between the liver and the creature’s eyes. Despite everything, Dick almost hopes that he will suddenly come to his senses, slap the hand away, and leap backward gagging in disgust.

  Instead, he wraps a couple of fingers around one of King Phantom’s. His tank of a brother looks minuscule in comparison. Jason stares up at the being with wide eyes, like a child presented with cotton candy.

   “Are you sure I can have it?”

   King Phantom’s chest lets out another deep rumbling purr. “T̶h̷e̴ ̶l̴o̷s̵s̵ ̴i̸s̴ ̵n̸o̴t̶ ̷a̷ ̷g̵r̷e̶a̵t̸ ̴o̷n̷e̴ ̵f̴o̶r̴ ̸m̴e̸.̴ ̵I̵ ̵a̶m̸ ̷p̷o̸w̵e̷r̶f̸u̸l̸ ̵e̶n̸o̶u̷g̷h̵ ̷t̵o̴ ̶s̷u̷r̸v̴i̸v̸e̸ ̵o̷f̵f̶ ̷a̷m̴b̷i̶e̸n̵t̸ ̸e̸c̷t̵o̷p̷l̵a̵s̶m̸ ̸a̶n̸d̴ ̴e̸m̸o̶t̷i̵o̴n̸s̶ ̴l̴o̷n̷g̶e̸r̸ ̴t̸h̸a̵n̸ ̴o̶t̴h̵e̸r̸s̷.̷ ̸B̶e̵s̶i̸d̸e̸s̴,̶ ̴t̵h̵e̶r̴e̷ ̸w̴i̴l̷l̷ ̴a̷l̴w̴a̵y̷s̷ ̵b̸e̴ ̸a̵n̶o̷t̸h̴e̷r̴ ̸c̶r̶i̶m̷i̴n̶a̵l̵ ̸t̴o̸ ̷h̶u̸n̵t̵.̵”

   Jason snatches the liver with burning green eyes. The organ wobbles in his hands. To Dick’s dismay, Jason takes a large eager bite. His expression can only be described as blissed relief like he had just tasted ambrosia. He goes in for another, larger bite before he has even swallowed the first, jaw unhinging like a snake. 

   Dick is never eating Jello again. 

   He watches with detachment as Jason takes a third bite of the liver. His brother’s mouth is painted in red and green like a facsimile of King Phantom’s. For the first time, Jason’s chest stutteringly hums in relieved glee. King Phantom purrs in return as he tucks his face back into the corpse, like some sort of horrific feedback loop. 

   Dick tries to focus on something else, anything else, but the iron stench of blood and burning flesh is inescapable. He tries to avert his eyes away from the gorey pile of what used to be the Joker as his brother and the creature tear into it. The stars that makeup King Phantom’s tail stare at him. They blink. A sharp pain shoots behind his eyes as he shuts them tightly. 

   It feels like he loses time.

   When he opens them again, his brother is gnawing flesh off a rib. The entire front of his body is caked in red and green. King Phantom is staring at him with piercing green eyes. Intestines dangle from between its jaws. Its tongue maneuvers them further into its mouth like they are spaghetti noodles. 

   The bile rises in his throat again. Dick retches against the wall. He wipes the acid from his mouth and leans his forehead against the brick. The coolness of the stone eases the pain zinging between his eyes. He can still hear the squelching of meat and snapping of bone behind him. 

  A noise of concern sounds from his brother.

   Dick turns back in the direction of the horror show, keeping his eyes squeezed tight.

   King Phantom hums in thought. “P̴e̷r̷h̷a̶p̶s̶ ̴i̷t̸ ̵w̶i̷l̴l̷ ̸b̵e̵ ̸e̶a̵s̵i̵e̴r̸ ̶i̷f̴ ̸y̴o̵u̸ ̷w̵a̵i̴t̸ ̶o̷u̸t̵s̶i̵d̵e̷.̸”

    “Y-yeah.” Dick nods, voice cracking. “I think I’ll just… do that.”

   Jason makes a noise of acknowledgment. 

   Another bone snaps.

   Dick quickly makes his way back the way they had come. He stops briefly to vomit again, though there is nothing left in his stomach to throw up. When he emerges from the tunnel entrance he gasps on fresh Gotham air. He wraps his arms tight around himself with shaking fingers as he tries to steady his breathing. With the absence of the creature the pain in his head steadily fades away, though the images of bloody organs and sounds of desperate screaming remain persistent. 

   He’s not sure how long he waits outside, but it's long enough that he begins to worry something happened to Jason. He begins to wonder if the creature pinned him down like it had the Joker, restaining him with his neck between its fangs. What would Dick even do? How could he save his brother from that… thing?

   Jason remerges before he can figure it out. He’s clean of any visible blood or lazarus water, but the acrid tang of death and gore follows him. 

   Jason pleadingly stares at him through the eyes of his helmet. 

   Dick nods.

   They don’t speak of it again.

______________________

Zalgo Translations...

"Company?"

"You should be more careful, little ghostling."

"You are no match for most spirits as young as you are. Especially not on Samhain."

"No need to fear, ghostling. I do not wish you nor your fraid harm."

"You are very lucky it was me who you came across rather than some other spirit. Many would have eaten you by now."

"Oh little ghost, you are much younger than I had thought! Your core is new and undernourished. No wonder I had not sensed you before! Have you been eating?"

"You need to take better care of yourself, little ghost. I've never seen such an undernourished core. You must be able to feel the effects. Are you in pain?"

"Come here, ghostling. I will share my catch. I can sense the connection this revenant has to you. As your killer, feasting on him will have extra benefits."

"I understand your apprehension."

"As a living it feels wrong, sickening even. It took me a long time to come to terms with it. I understand. But it is something our species needs. Surely you must have witnessed the effects of starvation on your fraidmate?"

"It will only get worse if he doesn't eat. Eventually, the starvation will be so bad his core will self-cannibalize."

"I am King Phantom of the Infinite Realms, the Ancient of Space, Protector of the Living and Dead, the One Who Lies In Between, the King of Ghosts."

"If I were not aware of my people's needs I would be a very poor king indeed."

"If it is any consolation, he will not need to eat often. Once or twice every fifty years or so should be enough to keep him relatively healthy. "

"Come here, ghostling,"

"I know you're hungry. The ectoplasm in here will help boost your own ecto production."

"The loss is not a great one for me. I am powerful enough to survive off ambient ectoplasm and emotions longer than others. Besides, there will always be another criminal to hunt."

"Perhaps it will be easier if you wait outside."

[ohgodmyeyes]

Movie Night

Luke x Anakin is my new favourite ship, so I’m gonna crosspost one of those, too. I’m bored.

3k words of modern!Anakin fucking his son on the couch below the cut.

18+

Luke liked to sit next to his dad.

"What are you watching?" he asked one evening, as he fell beside Anakin onto the well-worn old couch in the basement.

"Huh?" Relaxing downstairs after work was one of Anakin's favourite things to do. He liked to bathe, shirtless, in the gentle, blue glow of his television set. Like the sofa, the TV was old— Anakin had never bothered to upgrade to HD. Not down here, anyway.

Luke didn't mind. Again, he just liked to sit next to his dad.

"I said, what are you watching?"

"Oh. Movie."

"What movie?"

"Rambo."

"Oh, cool. I like the old ones."

"Fuck off." Anakin didn't think 'Rambo' was that old.

He'd just started drinking when his son had walked in— cans of beer, interspersed with the odd shot of dark, spiced rum. When he offered some of it to Luke, Luke didn't refuse.

Luke liked to do the things his dad did.

So, the two men drank— shot after shot, beer after beer, late into the night. 'Rambo' ended and 'Predator' started, and then 'Predator' ended, too. Luke rested his head on his dad's chest. It was strong, wide, and smooth. 'Top Gun' started to play next. Luke began to absently stroke Anakin's stomach.

By then, they were both certifiably shitfaced.

"You're pretty," said Anakin, sometime during an extended commercial break between films. It seemed to come from absolutely nowhere.

"What?" Luke turned his head to look up at his dad's face. He always seemed so serious. Right now was no exception.

"You're pretty," repeated Anakin flatly. "Like your mom." He was slurring his words a bit, but he wasn't lying. Luke was fucking gorgeous.

Luke felt himself blush. Why the hell was he blushing? "You... you think I'm—?"

"You're gonna get me in trouble one day." Anakin hadn't had a coherent thought for hours. Luke and the heat of his body were all there was. That, and the glow of the television screen.

"What are you talking about?" Luke tried to sit up a bit, but it was difficult. His dad's chest seemed almost... magnetic. He felt stuck to it.

"I'm talking about how you're even worse than your mom. She's a tease, sure... but you're a goddamn sadist." Anakin peered down at Luke. The kid looked like he belonged on a beach— naked, with the sunlight kissing his skin and glinting off his hair. How the hell had he turned out so damn blonde?

"Huh?"

"She likes to... I don't know. Flaunt herself around to get me going. Always has. You fucking torture me, though, and you don't even know you're doing it." Luke would do things like shower with the bathroom door open, and then walk around the house in nothing but a towel. Padmé and Leia were both busy, ambitious women, and that meant they were away a lot— working, socializing, attending school.

When they were away, Anakin would imagine ripping that damn towel right off and having his way with Luke.

He'd never actually tried it, though.

"I— uh, I... I'm... sorry?" stammered Luke. His face still felt hot. Now his dick was getting stiff, too. He didn't know what to say.

"Don't be sorry," said Anakin. "Just... take off your shirt." Again, Anakin was already shirtless.

"...What...?" Luke did manage to sit all the way up then. He looked his dad up and down, unable to stop his eyes from lingering. Anakin had always seemed so big to him— big and strong, and capable, too. He could fix anything, do anything, be anything.

Luke, sometimes, woke up hard and wet in the middle of the night to thoughts of his dad's body.

He'd never done anything about those thoughts, though.

...You really weren't supposed to think about your dad that way, were you?

"Take off your shirt," Anakin repeated. He shifted sloppily in his seat so as to get a better view. Luke's perfect, slight little frame and smooth, milky skin cried out to be touched.

Puberty had been very kind to Luke, Anakin thought, and he secretly loved that his son had stayed a couple of inches shorter than him. He would often sit right here in his basement and fantasize, in fact, about having Luke against the wall near the boiler— he was just small enough to lift, so it would be fun and easy to take him from the front, flush against the rough, bare cinderblock.

Luke would wrap his legs around his daddy's waist, and then Anakin would pound him until he—

"Dad?"

Anakin realized he'd become distracted.

Luke sat in front of him, newly shirtless.

"Fuck," said Anakin.

"What is it?" murmured Luke. The room was spinning, but his dad wasn't. His dad looked perfect. Too perfect. Fuck. Fuck.

"Y-you— you're as hard as a fucking rock."

Luke looked down. Anakin was right. He was only wearing a pair of soccer shorts, now. They were favourite pair— green. He was making a tent out of them with his cock. "S-so are you," he said, glancing across to the bulge in Anakin's own pants.

It was fucking huge.

"Goddamn it," Anakin said. He could feel the tip of his dick starting to drip. His heart was racing, too. This had to be a dream. He'd had dreams like this before.

"...Daddy?" asked Luke, wide-eyed and visibly tentative. He hadn't called Anakin 'daddy' in years. Why did he do it now? He didn't know.

"Tell me what you want, baby boy. Tell your daddy what you want."

"I— I want... I w-want you t-to..." Luke faltered, and faltered badly. How the hell was he supposed to say it?

"Tell me, Luke." Anakin shifted in his seat, and pulled his dick out of his pants. It stood tall and thick. Eager. Ready.

"I want you to fuck me, daddy," confessed Luke, struggling not to gape at the sheer size of his father's hard-on. He'd never seen it like this before, but now that he had, he knew he needed it.

Up to now, he'd thought dicks like his dad's only existed on the internet.

A half-shade or so darker than the skin on the rest of Anakin's body, it looked nearly as thick as a soup can, and more than long enough to choke just about anybody. It had a subtle, very alluring inward curve, and adorning its base was a pretty nest of haphazard, amber curls. Those curls lightened and grew sparse as they trailed up Anakin's stomach, stopping just short of his navel.

Luke found himself overcome with a disconcertingly urgent desire to touch his dad's cock— to lick it, suck it, and take it up his hole. He'd played with toys and played with his own fingers before, but he'd never had anything so magnificent as Anakin's hard-on up his ass.

He wondered if it was going to hurt.

Part of him hoped it would hurt.

What the fuck was wrong with him? He was too drunk, that's what it was.

...Not too drunk to fuck, though. Not too drunk for his daddy.

Luke sprang into action. He got onto his hands and knees right there on the couch, kicking off his shorts behind himself as he ravenously stuffed the length of Anakin's throbbing dick into his wet, eager mouth. Everything in the room seemed to move along with him, and when the head of it first hit the back of his throat, he thought he might throw up.

His dad leaked haplessly onto his tongue.

Luke forgot all about puking.

"Jesus Christ!" shouted Anakin. He'd be glad, later, that his wife and daughter weren't home to hear him. He took a handful of his son's lovely hair in his hand, and pushed down to the delightful sound of a muffled squeal.

This was no dream.

Tears gathered at the edges of Luke's eyes. His dad was thick in his throat, hard against his back teeth. He bit down gently, and Anakin dripped. He coughed, swallowed, and whimpered through his own painfully full mouth. He began to choke as he felt his hair being gathered up, and his head being pushed down and pulled back in turns. On the way up, he'd try to breathe and blink, and on the way down he would simply relish being consumed.

"D-does th-that taste... g-good, baby boy?" Anakin gasped, although Luke didn't answer, because he couldn't. Padmé never let him fuck her mouth like this, Anakin thought. Never let him grab her by the hair, or force her face onto his cock. She thought she was too dignified for that— too 'good'.

Luke was under no such illusions.

Anakin bucked upwards, still pushing and pulling on the back of Luke's head. That pretty little mouth of his was talented, and every time it came down on Anakin, it seemed to have something new in store for him. Luke bit, Luke tongued, Luke swallowed, and Luke sucked. Anakin let out a groan, and realized that he was beginning to lose his rhythm.

Shit. No. Not yet! With a heavy grunt and very little warning, Anakin pulled his son's mouth away from his dick. He wanted to cum, but not like this.

"Daddy," coughed Luke. "A-are you g-going to—"

Anakin interrupted by twisting Luke's hair tightly in his fist, and hoisting him up so that the two were face-to-face. "If you let me fuck you," he warned, "it's going to hurt for days." Anakin knew very well that he had a monster hard-on. He'd always liked to make his wife squeal with it. Would Luke squeal, too?

"I— ah!— I... I want it anyway!" Luke bent his head backwards, squirming and struggling against his father's grasp. His own cock twitched, because he didn't really want to get away.

"I bet you have a tight little asshole, Luke. Tell your daddy you want him to wreck your hole." He pulled Luke close, again by the hair, and went on to sink his teeth into the boy's exposed neck. He smelled and tasted just like a teenager: All pheromone-laden sweat, and cheap, obtrusive body spray.

It was fucking intoxicating.

Luke cried out, and bucked his hips into the air. "W-wreck me, daddy. Destroy me." Anakin didn't know yet that Luke had been leaving the bathroom door open on purpose. Deep down, he wanted his dad to smell his soap, and catch glimpses of his body.

He always had.

Anakin released Luke's hair, letting him fall heavily back onto to the couch. "Give me your ass," he said, stumbling to his feet as hastily as he could manage. His dick was already out, so getting up was all he had to do.

"H-here," breathed Luke, sloppily rising from where he'd been dropped, and taking the back of the sofa in his hands as he stuck his ass out toward his father. He felt hungry right now— empty— in a way he never had before. He'd stopped asking himself how or why, because the reasons didn't matter. All he knew was that he needed it. "Fuck me, daddy," he begged. "Please, please fuck me!"

Anakin had been busy squeezing a generous portion of silky, high-end lube out onto his hand. Padmé had bought it for him to use with her, but he mostly kept it down here because he liked to make jerking off a more pleasant experience for himself: Anakin was horny by nature, and he jerked off a lot... although these days, he tended to do it most often following Luke's cruel, exhibitionist showers.

There was still plenty of slick left on his hand, so just for fun, he started with his fingers. He massaged Luke's little hole, poking and prodding and rubbing circles around it with awe-filled fascination, all while Luke shouted and whined. He reached around, too, to grab Luke by the cock. He stroked its shaft and teased its head, and every time it pulsed, he squeezed it hard and tight.

"You've always been such a good boy," whispered Anakin, curling his fingers up into his son's ravenous little hole.

For what felt like a long while, all Luke could do was writhe and whine as his dad fondled and fingered him... soon, though, his thighs began to tremble, and an intense, very familiar type of desperation started to well up inside of him. His breath hitched as he begged haltingly, "P-put... put it in! Please, dad, I— I—"

"Say it again first," demanded Anakin, abruptly withdrawing his attention from Luke's cock.

Luke screamed in frustration; again, it was a good thing his sister and his mother weren't at home. He knew just what his dad meant, though, so he obeyed immediately and unquestioningly, "Wreck me, daddy!"

"F-fuck... fuck, that sounds so damn good. One more time, Lukie— one more time for your daddy!" He was letting his cock brush up against the backs of Luke's thighs. Sticky little droplets of cum leaked out of him and onto Luke's skin, and Anakin spread them all around with his tip.

"Wreck me, daddy!"

That made Anakin grin. Wordlessly— he knew he didn't have to say a thing— he thrust his waiting length right past the threshold of his little boy's ass.

Luke would always be Anakin's little boy.

"F-fuck! Fuck!"

Again, Luke had played with toys before— his dad's cock, though, was something else altogether. The stretch burned, but as Anakin eased his way in further, a unique sensation of unfettered fullness overtook Luke, displacing his pain entirely.

By the time Anakin was buried up to his sack, Luke had been overcome with an urge to touch himself. When he went to try, though, he was foiled by his father's scolding.

"Stop that," Anakin chided, the very moment he noticed Luke's hand start to move.

"But dad—"

"You'll come when I say."

Luke blinked fresh tears out of his eyes as his own cock throbbed painfully, bobbing about in the air. He didn't have time to argue with his dad, though, because Anakin had already started to thrust: He felt too desperate to take his time, unable to spare Luke even an ounce of his own desperation.

Every one of those open-door showers came back to him then— every time that towel had ever slipped, every time Luke had bent over to grab one of the bottles of sugar-free iced tea Padmé liked to set up in neat little rows along the bottom of the fridge.

Every time the water in his hair would drip onto his shoulders, sending little rivers cascading down his chest and back... every time the outline of his flaccid cock would make itself evident through the immodest strip of blue terrycloth draped around his perfect little waist...

Fuck. Fuck.

Luke felt sticky tendrils of himself begin to drip helplessly onto the couch. Something akin to a sob forced its way up from the very back of his throat, and he gripped the back of the sofa with all his strength. He didn't dare reach back down between his own legs.

Anakin, for his part, just kept on fucking. He placed one hand on Luke's waist to steady himself, but the other shot straight to the back of the boy's head, twisting its fingers up once more in that pretty, blonde mop he so admired. Luke's whining only made him move faster, and their mutual trembling only caused him to tighten his grip. He was merciless, tearing into his son with the unbridled power of years of repressed lust.

Anakin had wanted this for what felt like forever.

Luke's neck bent back at a near-impossible angle, and his cock continued to bounce tortuously beneath him as his dad intensified his rhythmic pounding. He moaned and yelped as Anakin yanked on his hair, and dug a persistent set of strong, blunt fingertips into his waist. He tried not to clench too hard around his dad's dick, but he couldn't help it.

Not that Anakin minded being squeezed.

"Dad, I can't— I— I can't t-take—!"

"Just hold on, baby boy," Anakin interrupted breathlessly, lost in the frantic movement of his own hips. "Just hold on for daddy."

Luke did hold on. He held on with all his might, waiting— waiting for a shout, waiting for a tug, waiting for the sensation of—

"Daddy!"

"Fuck! L-Luke!"

Neither of them would ever know who went off first: Luke's eyes squeezed themselves shut while every muscle in his body tensed. His breathing grew ragged, and he let out a series of obscenely loud, strangled cries as his dad's ravaging finally became too much for him bear. Dick still bouncing along with Anakin's rhythm, he erupted all over the sofa in a hot, sticky, needy mess.

At what might have been the very same moment, Anakin ground his hips sharply into Luke's ass. He cursed, growled, and relished the dire, pulsing sensation of his cock exploding deep inside his boy. It felt like the ultimate indulgence: An indulgence of every single one of the sick fantasies to which Anakin had ever closed his eyes and stroked himself. He'd needed this for years.

He pushed hard while he drained, letting the hand he'd been keeping on his son's waist snake around to finger his sexy little navel. Anakin let his fingertips dance along the edge of the near-indiscernible trail of fine, strawberry hairs leading down to Luke's slowly-softening dick. He finally did wrap his hand around it again, giving it a loving pump or two as he held himself inside of Luke for as long as he could manage.

Luke sputtered and panted, and backed into his dad's cock insistently despite the fact that his arms and legs had begun to quiver. Soon, he felt Anakin start to soften up, and eventually— begrudgingly— pull out of him.

"D-Daddy," he whined yet again, as the very head of Anakin's dick popped out of his ass, leaving him with only its seed, and a uniquely wonderful, strangely devastating emptiness.

Anakin took a moment to catch his breath and regain his composure. He looked down and saw Luke's hole, still bearing the evidence of having been stretched to its limit by his cock. It was beautiful— so beautiful that Anakin traced one last circle around the rim of it with his fingertip, and then reached back to give the fleshiest part of his son's ass a hard, unexpected slap.

With a yelp and a hop, Luke finally gave up his grip on the back of the couch, letting go in favour of sloppily turning to face his dad. He fell into a heap then, almost seeming to dissolve into the old, threadbare fabric. He was sweaty, but still naked, and growing cold. His skin was peppered with goosebumps.

Anakin stood and stared down at him, mesmerized. His cock was still out, although it was now wet and flaccid. He didn't tuck it away until he registered for himself the chill in the basement air.

Then, he sat down next to his baby boy... who immediately moved to cling to his daddy's chest, warming himself contentedly as he basked in the glow of the TV, and in the lingering delirium of their sex.

The old movies had long since finished airing— now, there were only infomercials.

Anakin and Luke were quiet. They were still drunk... although, perhaps, not feeling their drunkenness quite as acutely as they had before.

"See?" asked Anakin.

"See what?"

"I told you— you're pretty."

Just as it had done the first time, Luke's face went red... however, the new heat rising in his cheeks was accompanied, this time, by a serene little smile.

He didn't say anything... but he did snuggle in just a little bit closer to Anakin. His ass hurt, but it was a good hurt.

A hurt that made him feel loved.

Luke liked to sit next to his dad.

[totallyrealhoroscopesdaily]

11/7/2018 Horoscope

Aries: Gods above, but what a thing to worry about.

Taurus: You don’t want to be a person.

Gemini: You’re trying to use the location function on your computer to figure out where you are, but it can’t be right. It can’t. There’s no city where it keeps trying to say you are on the map. You are, just, so confused, and also rapidly becoming distressed.

Cancer: You mentally decide fuck it, slam back the rest of your cocktail, and stand up. He starts to look hurt, but you quickly say that if you’re going to be like old times, then you’re leaving this fucking ritzy ass bar and getting a pack of hard lemonade from the corner store. He stares at you, then a smile slowly crawls across his face and he teases that you always did like that plebeian shit, didn’t you? You kick his ankle as he stands up and he nearly falls to the floor, yelping. You laugh. 

Leo: You don’t usually spend much time online or inside, there’s too much to do outside for that, but today it’s raining and Fira has moved back into her repaired apartment (when was that repaired, you didn’t do it, then you realize it was a gift and have a vague sense of cold and you stop thinking about it) so you have some time to waste. There’s a video that’s gone viral that you watch out of curiosity. It’s a clip from a not-too-popular talk show where they’re discussing and analyzing a video of some man preaching about magical rights on some corner. As you watch, you realize he’s not preaching about magical rights, but monster rights, which is a completely different thing. What, does he want those dangerous creature to have free rein to go eat people or curse them? Hell, he even specifically mentions kelpies, known malicious predators. What a crackpot. You click off the video without watching it all the way through, you heard enough to know that guy is crazy.

Virgo: You should have done more, should have done something- Your sister chimes in here, asking what you could have done. You eloquently reply huh?

Libra: Life resumes. In a quiet moment, you tell Kaimana that she’s welcome to stay as long as she needs. In another, equally quiet moment, she says thank you. You continue to speak, you will be loud, you will be heard.

Scorpio: i don’t know what to do here. I’m going to write something everyday, though. I may not know what, but something. maybe i’ll figure it out along the way.

Sagittarius: You do it again, and again. Breakfast you might skip, and lunch can be at anytime, but dinner becomes a fixed occurrence in your life. You start eating at the same time each evening, and you set out the spare plate, and you confess, and then you go give the food away. You don’t confess as much as you did that first time, but you confess. It makes sleep easier, and it gets easier to talk to an empty spot at the table. You still need to find solutions, but talking feels nice, even if it’s unheard.

Capricorn: You had thought you disliked the script while you were trapped on it’s stage. You think you’re starting to hate it now. Leaving you so unprepared for the life outside the theatre doors, making you so unbalanced you had to flee, you think you hate it. But. But you also don’t. There’s some part of you that wants it back, wants to have never denied it, wants to go back and follow it for the rest of eternity. You call that part weakness, and you shove it to the side. At least the script prepared you to deal with doubt in the face of hardship, but it’s all going to fall apart soon, because there isn’t a curtain call to wipe it away this time.

Aquarius: You don’t know how to respond, and this is all too much all at once, but she lifts her head up to stare to meet your eyes with a hardened, warm, kindly look. She says that you aren’t that young man from way back when, and she isn’t that little girl, either. People change. You killed people for decades, and then you turned around and starved it. She remembers you, and she says it doesn’t much matter, because you aren’t the person who walked her home when she was young, and you aren’t the young man who decided to become a servant of it’s. People change, so she’s more inclined to judge you based on what you’re doing now, rather than what you did in the past, and right now, you’re a young man who is trying his hardest to relearn how to live, and who helps an old woman with her chores so she doesn’t strain herself, and who is an avid listener and learner and an all-around good friend. So, yes, she forgives you. She forgave you when she gave you that sweater. You’re crying, sobbing, and you must look like a mess, and you have no way to respond but one, and you choke out that you love her. She smiles sadly at you, and says she knows, and then pours you a cup of tea.

Pisces: You somehow drag yourself into town, much to the surprise of absolutely everyone there, because you look like death warmed over. You are pale and listing alarmingly to the side as you stumble onto the main street. You manage to take a few more steps in the shocked pause that followed your entrance, then a woman quickly grabs your arm, leading you to a chair sitting in front of a store and saying that you should sit down. You don’t resist, you’re too tired to resist or even question it, though you know this isn’t how this usually goes, and you’re focused on asking if everyone’s okay, if you did well, if everyone is safe, repeating the questions over and over. The woman, who has bright blond hair, comforts you as she gently lowers you into the chair, saying that yes, yes, everyone is okay, you did good, and you hear that and suddenly collapse into the chair like a hanging man whose noose was cut and can finally breathe again. The chair swings back from the sudden weight, and you squeak in surprise. Turns out it was a rocking chair. You really are out of it.

[otomeshistarlight-blog]

Rant incoming

I was scrolling through the JoJo tag when I saw this post and I just ... I’m really tired y’all.

First of all, according to a google search it looks like the age of consent in Italy is 14 (if I’m wrong, please correct me) so Narancia is very legal, as is Giorno. America’s laws are not universal. The world is not so UScentric that whatever we as a country deem inappropriate is likewise considered to be inappropriate in other countries. There are varying standards throughout different societies and one is not necessarily more correct than the next. Whether or not I think real life fourteen year olds should be having sex is irrelevant- because even if I don’t agree with it, it’s gonna happen anyway - but Narancia is not a real fourteen year old so whatever the law dictates in America OR Italy is irrelevant.

What this boils down to is that there is no victim here. Narancia cannot be taken advantage of. Narancia cannot be sexually assaulted and face the physical/emotional consequences of such trauma. There is nothing inherently wrong with shipping him in ANY pairing, regardless of the ages involved. If I want to write about him getting wrecked by Bruno I will damn well do it because not a single person is being hurt by me doing so. If this is something that triggers you and causes you distress then don’t 👏🏻 fucking 👏🏻 look 👏🏻 at 👏🏻 it. 👏🏻

Fighting for the rights of fictional characters solves nothing. It helps no one. It doesn’t benefit real victims and it sure as hell does not stop real people from being victimized in the first place. This is a nonissue that people are taking up arms over for no reason other than a perceived moral superiority that makes them feel more in control of the world around them. It stems from feeling helpless and lost in a society that doesn’t bend to their every whim. Fandom space is the only place they feel like they have any power so they take on the role of morality police, try to dictate what people can and cannot like, and then accuse anyone who won’t do what they say of heinous crimes. It’s extremely toxic and harmful, not to mention it lessens the severity of sincere pedophile/abuse finger pointing so the chances of a real predator getting away with it are greatly heightened, and I’m just done with it at this point.

Let’s say I’m looking through the porn tags as I am won’t to do and I come across a post that features blatant child porn. Real child porn. The 3D kind that, yknow, actually features real children being exploited and assaulted for realsies. I’m understandably appalled so I file a report with tumblr and they don’t even look at it because they’ve been bombarded for the last year with false harm to minors reports and the user is never penalized for actually doing something inherently wrong and immoral. Y’all have heard about the girl who cried wolf right? Like, y’all know how that story ends don’t you?

But no. Instead of directing your efforts towards anything worthwhile, you’re going to keep going after shippers. And for what? Because oh no, the fictional seventeen year old who could just as likely be nineteen is being paired with a fictional twenty-five year old. The horror. What is the world coming to? Think of the children!

Except ... these supposed children don’t exist. How can you victimize a piece of paper? The same argument applies to loli/shotacon too mind you, and there is no crime in looking at drawings regardless of their perceived age, especially when the topic is anime where you can have a character who looks like a five year old girl and she is in fact a 400 year old vampire. Like?? There is absolutely no logic you can apply to this that has any internal consistency let alone actually makes sense.

Me: these fictional minors don’t even look like sixteen year olds, where have you seen a real teenager who looks like this?

Antis: they look like teens you pedo!! And ageing them up is still pedophilia because they are canonly sixteen so you’re still thinking about teenagers in a roundabout, highly contrived way

Me: *shows you a 300 year old loli vampire* okay so I can definitely fuck this one right? She’s unrealistically old!

Antis: no!!!! You’re just using her canon age as an excuse to be a freak who preys on children! She might be 300 years old but she still has the body of a child!!

Me: okay so I’ll just age myself down to self ship, no biggie.

Antis: absolutely not!! You’re still an adult and ageing yourself down doesn’t make it okay!! I’m reporting you to the authorities right now!

Me: but ... who am I supposed to imagine fucking then?

Antis: one of the few adults you find in anime, except this one because he’s an abuser, or this one because he tortured a little girl and not the serial killer either because wow problematic

Me: so what you’re telling me ... is that I’m only allowed to thirst after your preapproved, precious cinnamon roll faves even though my tastes or needs in a relationship might vary greatly from yours?

Antis: yes, exactly. I’m so glad you’re finally on my level of intelligence and moral superiority. : ^)

Me: oh, I see now. So what this boils down to is that you just don’t want people to enjoy something you don’t personally agree with. Got it.

Antis: absolutely not!! I’m thinking about the betterment of society by telling you what you can and cannot enjoy! You liking these questionable things is harmful against the greater good! Won’t you think of the children!?

Me: soooooo we’re just gonna ignore how much that sounds like a fascist/communist society or ...?

Antis: : ^)

Y’all should absolutely read 1984. It would do you some good. Because having an attraction to a fucking anime character is not a slippery slope, but this puritanical shit? It sure as hell is.

Let me pose this query: what is stopping an anti from going on a book burning campaign or fighting to get certain books banned? Lolita? Flowers in the Attic? All of the works by Marquis de Sade (a personal hero of mine)? Alternatively who are the only people who actually engage in book burning/banning?

Overzealous religious nuts. Everything about the anti movement is the same “our children shouldn’t be exposed to such filth” battle cry that religious sects - specifically the western ones - have screamed for decades now except with a cute little sjw hat on top. No rock n’ roll music. It’s Satan’s music. No porn. It’s tainting America’s youth. No alcohol. It’s leading our country down the path of sin. No violent video games or movies. They’re turning people into mass shooters. No problematic themes in fictional works because it’s turning people into pedophiles/abusers.

And that is just ... factually incorrect. There is absolutely no correlation between Lolita being published and an uptick in children being sexually assaulted. There is no correlation between lolicon or shotacon breeding more pedophiles. Because that’s literally not how it works. Period. I’m not going to accidentally stumble on a loli doujin and think “huh yknow what? This sounds fun!” I could even read loli doujins at length and that’s still not going to convince me that actually engaging in sexual situations with toddlers is okay. Like ... I don’t know why these people think we’re so stupid that we don’t know the difference between right and wrong but this is just insane. The only people who look at loli or shota and then go on to commit crimes against real children are the ones who were already having those kinds of thoughts in the first place. The only people who play Grand Theft Auto and then go shoot up a church are the ones who were already having violent thoughts to begin with. These thoughts are not magically implanted into our brains regardless of what media we consume and that’s just a goddamn fact.

Yes, media impacts reality but not the way you think it does. Even all those sources antis link to about the supposed correlation between the two are twisted to meet their own rhetoric. It’s called marketing and anyone with half a brain cell knows that it exists. It’s meant to encourage us into thinking we need some product so we spend money on junk and keep capitalism going strong. it works more often than not. However no amount of marketing is going to convince a mentally sound person that shooting up a mall is a valid life choice to make. It just doesn’t work like that and you could scream until your blue in the face that fucking kids is the bees knees and I still wouldn’t touch a real child because that’s gross. Period. And since I can’t touch Bakugou Katsuki or Narancia because they’re just figments of someone’s imagination and pen and paper ... then where lies the problem?? What is the issue with writing or drawing fictional characters, regardless of age or moral compass, in sexual situations?

I’m a CSA survivor that has been on the internet for a LONG time. I’ve seen some shit I sorely wish I could forget. Everything from real life gore, real life death, bestiality, necrophilia and yes even real life child porn. I don’t think there’s a single problematic thing I haven’t accidentally stumbled on and it’s horrific. It’s disgusting. I know all too well how awful these things are and I know even better how it feels to be a victim of rape and sexual assault and pedophilia and grooming. Like. That was my life growing up. I know what these things look like and I can assure you without a shadow of a doubt that whatever is going on in fandom space isn’t even comparable. Please. Draw your OC fucking a dragon mascot character instead of fucking a real animal. Please write about a fictional father fucking his fictional son instead of fucking a real child or a real sibling. Do whatever you want with your imagination - and I do mean WHATEVER. If you want to think about eating your favorite characters shit then by all means. Enjoy. It doesn’t effect reality in any way besides maybe giving someone a cathartic coping outlet and there’s nothing wrong with it.

There’s nothing wrong with ANY topic being explored in fiction.

The only problem is when someone commits a crime in reality. When someone hurts another living being. And consuming this so called problematic fiction does not lead someone to real life crimes. Period.

Finding myself on that stupid gore site when I was 14, BestGore I think it’s called? Did not make me want to try killing someone. I’ve never even seriously contemplated doing it because death is awful in every regard, I wouldn’t seriously wish that on anyone let alone convince myself that it’s okay. But according to antis me being exposed to that sort of content means I’m more likely to go out and commit murder?

Literally what crack are you smoking?

Get the fuck out of here and do something worthwhile with your time if you honestly find these topics so disturbing. If not then shut up, sit down and let people enjoy their fandom experience however they see fit. Because this right here? This treating fictional characters like they matter, like they’re real people? It’s not fucking cute. And as someone who was raped from the time I was eleven until I was eighteen by a family member I can safely say that you aren’t doing shit to help anyone with this holier than thou, I know better than you crusade.

And that is the goddamn truth whether you like it or not.

[philanddanxreader]

Friends With Benifits

Hello, love bugs!

Warnings-Smut, Fluff, swears

Dan X Reader Smut

So I know that this wasn’t one of my older requests but I had a day and a half and the only thing to take me away was to write some good smut with Dan. Hopefully, I can get back into a rhythm. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it.

Friends with benefits with Dan? Ayy i like your writing xx -Anonymous

Your phone dinged with the familiar ringtone of Dan. It was a Friday night and you had absolutely no plans for the evening. Well, that was before Dan had texted you asking for you to come over. You and Dan had been friends for over three years. Your deeper friendship had been going on for almost two. It started like most friends with benefits relationships start. You were both drunk and horny. He’s a hot man who you trusted and your a beautiful girl who he would trust his first born with. Stumbles and giggles were mixed with feverish kisses. The morning after filled with blushes and the usual “I’m not like that usually.” Then the awkward goodbye sealed with a kiss because it’s not like hours earlier the both of you were seeing each other in many different ways. The both of you hadn’t talked for nearly two weeks, waiting for the other person to text first. How could you let any of this break such a strong friendship? You broke the streak of not talking because if you waited another moment you might have started to really lose your mind.

“Daniel I can't take it. We fucked and you know what it was fucking amazing. I miss our friendship. For almost a full year I have texted you every day.These two weeks are killing me. I know our friendship may never be the same because I saw your penis but like, I don't know please just text me back or something.” Hours went by. Okay well honestly just a couple of minutes went by but it felt like hours before Dan finally replied. 

“Y/N, come over so we can talk. Don’t freak I am not friendship dumping you. I just need to talk this shit out in person. Please come over,” It took about four seconds before you grabbed your coat to get out the door. After a short ride on the tube, you finally make it over to Dan’s. Once you reached the door you honestly had to remember that the two of you were going through an awkward thing so you couldn't just walk into the apartment and make you way up to the lounge. How do you knock again? Is it weirder to ring the bell like the postman or is it better to knock the usual friendly rhythm.Before you could think any more on the subject your arm was already knocking before you could over think everything over and over again.

You were looking down at the floor practising the conversation when you felt the air push past you as Dan opened the door. There he was looking so sweet like his curly hair. He had clearly just gotten out of the shower as his hair still had little drips coming from the tips of the baby curls.

“Y/N, It’s good to see you. Listen, I mean please come in.” Dan had placed his hand on the back of his neck rubbing softly at the awkwardness. He had a small smile placed on his lips, Happy to see you but unsure of how to handle this situation. “Look I have never had to have this conversation before so let’s go sit and maybe have a warm drink.” You nodded your head pushing slightly past Dan to make your way up the stairs. 

Once the two of you had gotten more comfortable with you in the chair and him on the couch you both could finally have an adult conversation. Dan broke the silence as he felt if he didn't word vomit would be the only thing that would come out.

“Listen your my best friend that is a female. Our friendship makes me so happy. We were drunk and both some sort of hot messes. I don't want to call what we did a hot mess because what we did was nothing short than fucking amazing. The both of us are in no position to have a relationship but I wouldn't mind having you as a friend that occasionally I fuck.”You were honestly shocked Dan was being so upfront.

“I really love being your friend. I also really loved fucking you. Do you honestly think that the two of us? You and I apparently two grown people being friends with no emotions still be friends and fuck? I don’t think I could say no to fucking you on a common basis. Emotions run high and I’m a sensitive lady.” Your words were cut off as Dan’s lips crashed into yours. At first, you didn’t kiss back but only because of the shock. After the few seconds of realisation, you started to kiss him back. His lips were just as you remembered when drunk. Soft and warm. He has the slight taste of the hot chocolate he was drinking from earlier.

“I don’t really know what took over me but I do know that if you didn’t want it I will apologise utterly and perfectly. If you did,” It was your turn to cut off Dan with a kiss.This kiss had a lot more passion. You had pulled him closer with the collar of his shirt messing up his wrinkle-free collar and leaving smudges of lipstick all over his face. The next few moments went by in a flash as the two of you kissed and grabbed your way to the bedroom. Thank god Dan asked Phil to make himself busy for the next few hours.Once in the room, Dan had pushed you into the bed looking you up and down like a tiger hunting his prey. In this case, you happen to be a meek little bunny that had caught the attention of said predator.

“I want to ravage your body, will you let me? You couldn’t almost squeak the yes out fighting past the butterflies in your throat. Dan didn't need much more than that before all of your clothes hit the floor. How you managed to wear a pretty bra and underwear set was beyond you but thank the lucky stars. Before Dan had you fully nude you were pulling at his shirt begging into his mouth to relieve him of his clothing.”Something the matter pet?” That nickname! He had never called you that until the first time the two of you had been intimate. You could listen to him calling you pet all day and night.

“You need to lose some of these items. You seem to be overdressed for the evening attire.” Dan smiled pulling his shirt over the top of his head. You loved the pale skin of Dan’s chest. To be honest you were secretly hoping that you would still see the love bites you had left all along his chest just two weeks earlier.

“You look even more beautiful then I remember.” Dan placed hot kisses all along your body from your jaw down your collar bones. Sucking and grazing his teeth he was able to get the moans from you that he wanted. He smiled against your skin as he had quickly learned where all of your sweet spots were in one simple night. Dan continued his decent down your sides kissing every inch of you. What you saw as imperfections Dan saw his uniqueness. It’s what makes you. You can’t be who you are without all of the little scars, bumps, and marks.

“I honestly couldn’t dream anything better than this moment but I need you to stop being so cute and fuck me.” The both of you had giant grins on your faces as dan wrapped his arms around your back to unhook your pretty bra.

“Your wish is my command.” The last few items of clothing that the both of you had on hit the floor in a pile of passion. Finally after wheat felt like years of waiting you felt Dan start to rub the tip of his cock along your wet folds. You loved te fact that he felt like you had time to be teased.”I'm not going to last forever because I have been waiting for this for much too long.”

“Don’t worry I feel the same way.” Just as you had finished having the words escape your mouth you felt Dan start to fill you up. It was just as you remember it but this time your brain wasn’t foggy from the alcohol. Dan had pushed his way as far as possible taking just a few moments for you to become comfortable before starting to slowly rock back and forth. Within seconds the two of you had started to fill the room with the both of your moans. It was slow at first, Dan wanted to make sure you were comfortable but you remember sex with him a little differently. 

“Please, Harder.” Dan obliged giving into your every whim. The perfect thing about fucking your friend is that when you give them commands they don't take it as an insult. The filling of the tension in your stomach and in Dan’s balls was building quickly over time. 

“I’m not going to be able to continue at this rate pet. Can you cum with me?” Was there nothing hotter then Dan asking if you could cum with him?

“Count me down.” You started to kiss Dan again as you felt his thumb start to circle your clit to help build your orgasm faster. 

“Four, Three, Two. The both of you didn't reach one as your cup had filled over making Dan follow only seconds later from the feeling of you spasming around him. The both of you in ignorant bliss. In that moment the both of you didn't care that this was a risk to your friendship or that this was probably a stupid decision. What the two of you did know was that everything felt right in the world and you had your best friend back.

You finally looked back at your phone from the memory. It’s so funny how far the two of you had come.You decided to reply with a wink emoji and a little on my way. It was nice to have someone to be your best friend and to take away your stresses.