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gojos-thot-patrol · 8 months

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Starring: True from! Sukuna in a cabin in the woods... Synopsis: You don't see the point in it; chasing myths on Halloween night, going deeper into the woods than you ever had before. You'd rather be at home than chasing ghosts. But, your best friend insists on finding evidence of the local urban legends, and surely she won't abandon you the moment you find what shes been hunting, right? Content Warning: Tonight we are serving True form (two dicks) Sukuna, double penetration, tummy bulges, cunnilingus, kidnapping, marking, slight dubcon, and a soft Sukuna if you squint. reader discretion is advised

“So, remind me again why we’re taking a walk in the woods on Halloween night?” You asked your friend, narrowly avoiding a thorn vine as you pushed past the brush.

“Because, historically speaking, people tend to see it on Halloween!” She explained, holding up her camera, “It’s our best chance of finding evidence of the spider demon.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes at her optimism.

“I don’t know if “Historically” is the right word to use there,” you grumbled softly as you continued your walk together. Ever since the two of you had started taking that Folklore Studies class for an extra college credit she had become obsessed with the local urban legend: The Spider Demon. To her credit, it was a genuinely interesting topic.

As far back as town hall kept records of, there were sightings of the beast: a giant humanoid man that was covered in ancient markings, with four arms, four eyes, and a giant mouth on his abdomen. Rumor has it, he was the one at fault for all the disappearances that plagued your small town, dragging poor, innocent souls into some far off lair and feasting on their flesh.

The sane people knew the real reason for the disappearances though; most of those kids hopped a train and got the fuck out of that dying town while they still could. You couldn’t say you blamed them. If you didn’t go to school here, one of the cheaper colleges around, you wouldn’t be here either.

Your thoughts came to a halt as the two of you came up on an old stream. You knew it well as the boundary between where it was acceptable to play in the woods, and where was off limits. Everyone in the town had followed this rule. Your great grandparents had this rule engraved in their soul as kids, just as your parents and grandparents had, just as you had. And just as your kids would one day. No one really knew why you weren’t supposed to cross the water, just that you weren’t.

And your best friend was trying to hop across. “Hey! What the hell do you think you’re doin’?!” You yelled as you grabbed her arm and pulled her back. She looked at you as if you had just grown two extra heads.

"I'm crossing the stream?" She asked as if you were the insane one here.

"Yeah, I can see that dipshit!" You snapped, "Why the hell would you do that?!"

"To get to the other side?"

"What are you, a chicken?! You know we're not supposed to cross this stream." Your friend dramatically rolled her eyes, making her annoyance clear.

"The only chicken here is you Y/n." She scoffed. "Come on, it's just water. It can't hurt you." She said in a tone meant to mock assurance. It grinded your bones and made you wonder why you were friends to begin with.

"Don't be like that. Everyone in this town has been told since birth not to cross that stream, there has to be a reason why."

"The reason why is probably so little kids don't drown." She explained as if it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. It made you want to rearrange her teeth. "I'm going to cross the stream and keep the hunt going, are you with me or not Y/n?" She asked.

You took a deep breath. You absolutely were not with her. Every fiber in your being was setting off red flags, you could hear your ancestors screaming at you to turn around, somewhere from the great beyond, both Cain and Abel look at you and say "girl, don't do it."

And yet, you started to jump across the rocks. As annoying as your friend was, she was still your friend, and you couldn't let her go alone. Your ancestors all collectively face palm, your nerves explode, Cain turns to Abel and shakes his head. There's no saving you now. You swore the air temperature dropped by at least three degrees as you made it to the other side of the stream. You cursed softly as you wrapped your jacket tighter around you, and rushed to catch up with your friend.

“See? We crossed the water and we didn’t explode! Some rules are just made to be broken.” She seemed confident in that, but you still weren’t. Something was so…off. Wrong. But you couldn’t figure out what. The moon was still as full as ever, lighting your way as the two of you walked. Your friend seemed fine, as chatty as hell even. And you were physically okay. Leaves crunched under your shoes, and the crickets chirped-

Wait. No they didn’t. “Hey, shush.” You demanded of your friend.

“What!? Why should I-”

“I said Shut. Up.” You snapped, an unfamiliar edge to your voice taking even you by surprise. She shut up, and you struggled to listen to the sounds of the forest. Except, there were no sounds of the forest. No crickets singing, no owls hooting, not even the rustle of a field mouse in the grass. The woods were completely silent, filled with nothing but the sound of your breathing.

“Do you hear that?” You asked your friend.

“I don’t hear anything.” She scoffed.

“Exactly. We need to turn back.”

“What?! No way!” She protested with a stomp of her foot. You were really starting to think that Darwinism would not look kindly upon your friend.

“The woods are completely quiet.” You pointed out, “That doesn’t happen unless it has a reason to be quiet. We’re not welcome here.” You tried to argue. You would have been better off arguing with the moon itself. Your friend just shook her head as she continued to walk.

“The woods are always quiet Y/n, its what makes it so peaceful, or whatever.”

“But not this quiet!” You pleaded as you chased after her, still not willing to let her die out here alone. “Dude, please, we need to go-!”

“Ooo, whats that!” Your “best friend” quickly changed the topic as she pointed out a building off in the distance, running off to check it out. You felt your stomach fall to the floor. Who would build anything out here? You ran to follow her, deciding to just drag her back home if you had to.

“Its a house!” She pointed out with a laugh as the two of you reached the edge of a lawn, “And they even decorated for Halloween, how sweet.” You looked at the house, an old wooden cabin that looked like something a pilgrim would have built back in the 1700s. You were shocked to see lights glowing in the window, indicating the building had electricity. That wasn’t what unnerved you the most though.

That would be the bones littering the yard. Animal and human alike, some looking older than others. All strewn about as if thrown there without any care, or sense of design. They looked more like discarded trash than they did decor, and a morbid part of your brain forced you to ask; do those maybe look a little too real to be made of plastic? You blood felt colder than ice as your throat contracted, an unseen anaconda choking you as your knees threatened to give out.

This place was cursed. “You should go knock.” Your friend smirked.

“I would rather die.” You whispered.

“I’m serious!” She laughed, “Go trick or treating! You’d probably be the first one to do so here.”

“No way, this isn’t right. Why would they “decorate” for Halloween all the way out here? Why are they out here to begin with? It doesn’t make sense, we need to go.”

“Well, I’m not leaving until you go knock on the door.” Your friend shrugged as if she wasn’t signing your death certificate. “These kind people deserve trick or treaters, and I deserve to take a picture of you scared shitless as you knock on the door.” She laughed.

“That’s not funny!” You snapped, your patience growing thinner as your anxiety grew.

“Oh come on Y/n! Don’t be such a bitch, just go knock on the door and then we can go, okay? I promise.”

“...Swear?” You asked softly, at this point willing to do whatever it took to leave these woods and go home.

“Swear.” Your best friend smiled, locking her pinky with yours. Her smile as angelic, enough to trick you into a facade of ease. You took a deep breath as you approached the door, carefully avoiding the skeletons as you walked. Did they looked chewed on? You didn’t want to think too hard about it. You could feel your heart in your throat, the false courage of your friends pinky promise fleeing faster and faster with every step you took closer to this house. It radiated death.

Climbing the creaky stairs was harder than you anticipated, your jittering joints protesting the very act. You reached a trembling fist to the splintering wooden door, knocking as soft as possible. “H-Hello?” You called out, hating the way your voice quivered, “Trick or Treat!” Your entire body tried to collapse in on itself, the only thing keeping you from doing so was the primal instinct to maintain your ability to run should you so need.

You waited a few seconds, then let out a shaking breath as no one came to the door. As you turned back to your friend, you were blinded by the flash of a camera, freezing you in your place. The sounds of her cackle filled you with rage. You really needed you friends.

You rolled your eyes. “There I knocked. Are you happy? Can we please go home no-” your words died in your throat as you heard the door open.

“Trick.” a rough deep voice said, deeply unfamiliar to you. You watched your friends face contort into fear and her jaw unhinged itself into a scream as she scrambled to get away. Though, you weren’t able to hear her panic, the ringing in your ears becoming deafening as you felt your feet fall from underneath you, a python of an arm squeezing your stomach as you were lifted into the air, and into the house.

You tried to grab the door frame as you were dragged into hell, becoming aware of your own screaming ripping through your throat as the frame was ripped from your fingers and the door shut in your face.

“Quite mortal.” The voice said again, and you almost instantly shut up. Something primal in your DNA sequencing knowing better than to piss off this devil. The monster turned you over in his hands, turning you to face him. Your soul left your body. You took in the visage of the beast, your panicking brain struggling to process what was in front of you.

A giant humanoid man, with four arms, four eyes, and a face and chest full of ancient markings. He was holding you too close to properly see it, not to mention the fact that he was wearing a regal robe, but you would bet an unreasonable amount of money he had a sickening smile on his belly. You were in The Spider Demons claws.

And worst of all, he was kinda cute? Like, maybe it was the unshakeable sense of death that rattled your soul and turned your brain into mush, but if he was like- a normal guy with a normal amount of arms and eyes, you would have been smitten! You were kinda smitten now, even if you didn’t want to admit that. God you…really really hoped this whole experience wasn’t awakening something in you. This would be something to unpack in therapy later- if you survived this.

The demon took your chin in a free hand, turning your head as he examined you. You smelled divine. If you had been a sacrifice for him, he would have given whoever picked you out an A++ for finding you, and a bit more leniency for a while. But, he knew you weren’t a sacrifice. The townsfolk had declared him their enemy long ago, and had been facing the consequences ever since. So, that begged the question.

“Tell me, whats a pretty thing like you doing at my doorstep on the most haunted night of the year?” He asked, turning your head to look him in the eye.

“Wishing you were a myth.” You went with the first thing that came to your head and instantly regretted it. That might have been a little too honest for this situation. But, at least he seemed to find humor in it, snickering at your quip.

“Keep wishing then human, I’m all too real.” He chuckled darkly.

“Yeah, I-I see that…Are you going to kill me?” Your voice was shakier than you intended as you asked. You hated it, but the anticipation of what he was going to do was more painful that anything he could have actually done.

“I haven’t decided yet.” He mused as he continued his examination of you. He smiled cruelly as he felt your pulse quicken under his hands. He could smell your fear, and it was intoxicating. Your eyes, blown wide with fear, were stirring something deep down inside of him, and making you far more interesting than any other human he had come across in years.

Or, maybe it had just been a while since he had anyone to fuck. Granted, he had stolen plenty of mortals from your small town, but most of the time they died in the process. Corpses held no interest to him for anything other than food. But you? You were alive and warm, and vulnerable in his claws. That fact alone made the notion of keeping you alive for a little longer far more enticing than killing you just yet.

“Um, anything I could do to help you make that decision?” You asked softly.

“The decision to kill you?” he questioned

“Well, the decision not too!” You quickly clarified, “Dying sounds kinda, well, not fun and with you being like, a real thing that kinda makes me question well everything as far as mythology goes and that makes dying really fucking scary and-”

“You’re rambling mortal.” He sneered in annoyance.

“Right! My bad I just- please don’t kill me. I’ll do anything not to die.” You begged, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as you grappled with being forced to face the unknown. You had the beasts attention though, an eyebrow raising at your offer.

“Anything?” He purred, his eyes falling to the swell of your chest and making you greatly regret your word choice. “Anything at all?”

“Anything.” You whispered softly. You reasoned with yourself that this was for your life and definitely not because the thought of getting railed by a blood thirsty demon made you squish your thighs together in anticipation. You for sure didn’t feel a rush of arousal as the thought of something meant to kill you making you cum instead crossed your mind. That didn’t happen, no way, not at all. You weren’t wondering if his dick was as monstrous as he was, or if his markings graced it as well.

“Alright then Human, deal.” He grinned wickedly as he brushed a stray hair behind your ear. “I’ll let you live, if you give your body to me first.” You felt your face burn at his proposal. Something felt fundamentally wrong about spreading your legs for a demon. You weren’t religious or anything, but that had to be some sort of sin. But, if it was for your life, surely you could indulge- I MEAN- endure.

“Before I agree, we’re not talking about possession, right?” You had to clarify. He smirked at your words. You were cleaver to ask, it showed a familiarity with the supernatural. Maybe you weren’t as foolish as you first seemed after all.

“Smart girl. But no, we’re not talking about possession.” He confirmed.

“Okay, cool, just checking.” You chuckled nervously. “You got yourself a deal.” His smirk turned into a dark grin as his free hands rushed to your clothes. You panicked, knowing he was going to rip them off and you’d be forced to walk back in the nude. That would have been mortifying.

“Wait wait wait!” You yelped, holding up your arms to stop his hands.

“What?” He growled, annoyance flooding his tone.

“Let me undress myself.” You requested, “Please? I’ll make it worth your while.” He seemed intrigued and amused, setting you on the ground with an almost unnerving gentleness.

“Will you now? Lets see.” He hummed. You nodded, taking a few steps back. You took a deep breath and shrugged your jacket off your shoulders. You had never been particularly good at being sexy, at least not in your opinion. But, The monsters eyes could have convinced you otherwise. The way he watched you undress, as if he was a starving man looking at a thanksgiving feast, or a hungry demon looking at his next meal. It gave you the confidence to put on a proper show, teasing him as you slowly shed your clothes.

“I’m Y/n by the way,” You said as your hands reached to unhook your bra, “You got a name, or is it just spider demon?” He huffed humorlessly at your quip. He never liked that title.

“Ryomen Sukuna,” He said, his eyes setting fire to your skin as you finally dropped your bra for him, “you can call me Sukuna.”

“Noted.” You nodded as you dropped your panties. His lustful grin showed off his incredibly sharp fangs as he dropped his own robe, the only thing covering him. You confirmed the mouth theory, seeing it spread and hungrily panting across his toned abs. Your breath hitched when you saw when he was working with.

His dick- or rather, dicks- looked human enough despite the markings, but they were longer and thicker than anything you had taken before. And again, there were two of them. They stood hard and proud against his stomach, twitching to be inside you. You didn’t know if the buzzing in your hands and legs was from regret, or excitement.

You didn’t have time to figure it out either before you were taken back into the demons arms, this time with less violence and more neediness. He pressed you to his stomach, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist and leaving you open to him.

“You’re pretty brave for a human, you know that?” He complimented as a large tongue lolled out of his stomach mouth and against your soaking core. He chuckled darkly as the muscle shoved itself into your weeping cunt, making you gasp at the sudden stretch, “And such a slut too.”

“Hey, this was your idea, not mine.” You reminded him though breathy moans, trying to ground yourself as your hips bucked against his giant mouth. Every movement of the tongue felt like being touch for the first time, a ripple of pleasure coursing though your stomach and legs, and making you wonder there was something supernatural going on to make a demonic act feel so heavenly.

“True,” He agreed, “But you’re the one that's gushing for a monster when I’ve hardly touched you.” he reminded you, watching the way your face contorted with pleasure as you dropped the act of innocence. He didn’t know what was more arousing to him, watching your resolve dissolve, or just how sweet you tasted as you desperately you rode his tongue. “I was going to kill you just a few moments ago, you know that right?” He growled into you ear.

“Yeah, but you’re fucking me instead. Sounds like a win to me.” You grinned and he laughed at your sudden audacity. He knew he liked you.

“You really are a whore, Aren’t you?” He teased as his tongue slipped out of your cunt and into your ass instead, watching the way your breasts bounced as you flinched and moaned at the sudden intrusion.

“Not a whore if it’s for my life.” You whined, digging your nails into his shoulders. You were starting to feel light headed from the pleasure pooling in your stomach, your cunt clenching around nothing, pissed off from the loss.

“Whatever you have to tell yourself.” He chuckled as his face fell to the crook of your neck, taking in your intoxicating smell. He could feel his dicks twitch with need as he kissed you there, fighting every instinct in his body to keep from digging his teeth into the thin skin. He tasted your sweet slick as it dripped from your cunt and onto the middle of his tongue, and finally he withdrew the muscle.

You whined as he did, head dropping to his chest, both holes now clenching around nothing. “No, fuck-” You whimpered, only for him curl a clawed finger under your chin and lift your head to face him. “Sukuna..” You whimpered as you looked into his fire red eyes, darkened by lust. His lips crashed into yours, capturing you in a heated kiss. You sighed against his mouth, hands rising to tangle into his soft pink hair as his tongue tangled with yours.

You screamed into his mouth as you felt him shove both of his cocks into you at once, one for each hole. He growled, biting down on your lip as you clenched around him. “Sukuna!” You gasped as you pulled back from the kiss, your body trying hard to push out the sudden intrusion.

“Relax for me Darling,” He groaned softly, the pet name slipping out without his permission. He pressed his forehead to yours as he rubbed your stomach, trying to ease your pain.

“I-I can’t. Too big..” You panted, trying desperately to release the tension in your shoulders. The stretch was searing you from the inside out. You felt overwhelmed, the pleasure in the pain feeling like static shocks. “It’s soo much..”

“You can handle it,” He assured you, extremely (perhaps overly) confident in your ability considering you had met less than an hour ago. You shook your head, tears slipping from your eyes. He lapped them up from your face, then captured your lips in a much softer kiss this time. Slowly, your body came to accept his, the tension melting away as his tongue tangled with yours and he eased his way further into you. The burn faded, leaving just the pleasure there, pulsating through you as he pushed deeper.

He groaned into your lips as he bottomed out into you, stilling both to give you time to adjust and so he didn’t immediately cum in you like a fucking virgin. It was almost embarrassing how good you felt around him, taking him better than any other being had before. You clenched and fluttered around him in a sinful way, bringing him closer to his climax than he would like to admit.

“Told you.” He smirked as he pulled away from the kiss, licking at the string of saliva that connected the two of you. You whined as you looked down to where the two of you were connected, watching a bulge in your stomach appear and disappear with every thrust of his hips. It should have hurt, but no- quite the opposite.

Every thrust of his hips electrified you with pleasure, sending wave after wave of intoxicating bliss through your nervous system. You had never felt so full before, so complete. You could feel his cocks rub against each other, against your walls inside of you, a dizzying sensation that you had never experienced before. Your hips bucked against him greedily as he fucked you, chasing your high.

“Look at me Y/n,” He demanded, pulling your head up so your eyes connected with his again, “I want you know the demon making you feel so good.”

“Ryomen-” You whined, forgetting in your sea of lust that wasn’t the name he told you to use. His eyes widened a bit from shock. Mostly because he wasn’t filled with rage by your insolence, but instead a surge of lust from hearing his name fall from your lips. It really had been awhile, he was feeling himself getting attached far too easily. If he knew what was good for him, he would have finished and disposed of you as quickly as possible. He wasn’t interested in what was good for him.

“Say it again.” He demanded, a hand slipping in between you to rub circles into your clit.

“Ryomen..” You whined, staring at him with fucked out, lust clouded eyes as you trembled in his arms, thighs clenching around his abdomen as the ecstasy crashed through your core and through out your body. You felt your muscles ripple and tense in anticipation.

“Again,” He growled, pulling you closer to him, and dropping his forehead down to yours. “Who does this cunt belong to?”

“Ryomen..” Your brain was too clouded to make out the rest of his command, your body buzzing and bliss building up inside of you. He picked up his pace, chasing his own high and making you scream out his name in a truly embarrassing and needy moan.

You clung onto his shoulders and neck, digging your nails into the soft skin there as the euphoria in your veins finally boiled over and hit the fire inside of your stomach, igniting it in an explosion of ecstasy and lust. Your vision exploded with stars and your brain officially clocked out of work as you melted into a puddle. Your legs shaking around him as you leaned against his strong body, unable to keep yourself up any longer.

Your velvety walls quivered around him and sucked him in impossibly deeper, needy and lustful for him. It drove him mad. He watched as your face scrunched in pleasure, your body reacting to him greedily as you melted into the pleasure he he was gracing you with.

It send him over the edge watching you cum for him, feeling you cum over him, feeling you gush around him. He couldn’t hold himself back any longer, holding you in a grip tight enough to bruise. His fangs buried themselves into your neck, marking you as his and his alone as he came deep inside of you, the warm strings gushing in you and filling you to the point of spilling over.

He held you close to him, head hung back as you both tried to catch your breath. Your mind was starting to clear the fog out, looking up to ask him to put you down before you felt him move inside you again. Your breath hitched as you realized he didn’t even get a little soft. You looked at him with almost horrified eyes as he bucked into you, only acting to encourage him. He looked back at you with lustful and wicked eyes, nipping at your lip as he set his pace and grinned.

“Whats wrong Darling?” He asked, the pet name now fully intentional in its use, “You didn’t think I was done with you yet, did you?”

🎃🎃🎃

You were warm when you woke up, despite still being in the nude. Probably because of the huge body pressed against yours, radiating heat and holding you close as he slept. Visions of last night ran though your head, making you almost painfully aware of the cum still dripping from between your thighs, and sending another wave of arousal through you. When did you pass out? When did Ryomen?

You stayed still for a few seconds, listing to your bedfellows steady breathing. The bed, despite being made from feathers and thin quilting, was surprisingly soft, and the late afternoon sun filled the old home with a warm hazy light. You realized you couldn’t stay here any longer. You couldn’t get attached to an urban legend.

You slipped out of his arms, freezing as he groaned and only breathing again once he was softly snoring. You sighed as you slipped out of the bedroom and found your clothes again. You quickly got dressed, and went to open the front door. It didn’t budge. Your eyes furrowed in confusion as you pulled the knob again. What the hell? You pulled with all your might, almost screaming with frustration as the door didn’t even move a centimeter.

“Don’t bother with that Dove.” You gasped as you heard Ryomens voice behind you, a wave of dread blanketing you as you spun to face him. He was leaning casually against the door frame of the bedroom, a content smile painted on his face. “It has my seal on it. I’m the only one that can open that door.”

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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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DCxDP Fic idea: What's the Rule again?

It starts with Wes Weston accidentally banishing Danny from his haunt. He didn't mean to, and he panicked along side Sam and Tucker when Danny was effectively evicted Danny from Amity Park.

See the four have become tight-knited friends every since the trio started talking to Wes back during the summer between freshman and sophomore year.

During that time, Wes's other friends had drifted apart once Wes' attention moved from basketball to ghosts- specifically Phantom. Danny had felt at fault that he was left a loner because of his secret identity and had invited Wes to sit with them at the Nasty Burger the second week of Summer break.

Wes was suprise to find out that Sam, Tucker and Danny were much better friends then the ones he hanged out with since third grade. He was used to people only speaking to him in class or the few times they hang out on breaks but the trio would message him about every single thought or meme they had. They could laugh togther until tears fell from thier eyes and they couldn't breath over the silliest of topics.

Wes also found out that the trio was supportive of all their interests. Sure, his old teammates and friends didn't make fun of him for crocheting or painting, but they wouldn't accompany him to an art market. Nor would they actually wear the scarves and gloves he made them.

They sure as hell didn't volunteer to help him run a booth to sell his own crocheting pieces after encouraging him to get a table. And they wouldn't cheer loudly when he made his first sale.

Wes also wouldn't have happily gone with them to an observatory, a Dark Poem Night, or even a tech expo. But he found that he had the time of his life watching Danny, Sam, and Tucker nerd out at the events much as much as he did at his own.

He also never had anyone he knew would be down to do him favors or even take notes for him when he was out sick.

So he became close friends with them, passing sophomore year with far more enjoyment than any other grade, then Junior year came and went just as fast and as fun. It was their last summer as high school students, so Wes wanted to do as many new activities as the four could together before Senior year.

Who knew what would happen to their little group after graduation? He wants to think they would all remain best friends but he's heard so many stories of people drifting apart that Wes was afraid of risking it.

That's why he researched urban myths and legends around the world regarding ghosts- more then any research paper he's ever done- and jokingly asked Danny to partake in some of them as a halfa.

They joked and laughed- throwing salt in a circle around Danny, lighting a candle for him to use Morse code with- but it wasn't until Wes got to the one where he tried smoking Danny out with a banishing spell he found in an old book that things turned from funny to horrible.

It worked

Danny was flung from his haunt- effectively banishing him from the area he was haunting. Dann just happens to be haunting all of Amity Park, so he ends up on the outskirts of town, unable to cross the invisible line.

Wes practically choked on his tears as he apologized for Danny not being able to cross back in, but the other three quickly informed him that they, too, took part in it, and it was no one's fault. Danny just had to find a way to reverse the banishing spell.

The only problem was that the book pages Wes found online were only on the banish spell itself and nothing else. He couldn't even find the whole book since it belonged in a private family library.

The family library was located in the most dangerous city in America. Gotham.

The library also belongs to a very wealthy family that had recently all but perished except for their lone heir- Timothy Drake.

Now Wes attempted to contact Timothy Drake in hopes of having the other teenager send him copies of the book, but he never got a reply. He thinks it was due to not explaining why he needed the book and ending up sounding like a bot or a scam.

With each passing day of Drake not responding Danny's situation grew worse. Jazz luckily covered for them, claiming to have signed Danny up for some camp so his parents wouldn't think he was missing.

That would only work until school started, which was a time limit that was weighing on all their shoulders as they tried to find a counterspell.

Jazz, Tucker, Sam, and Wes each took turns driving out of town to bring him food and a change of clothes so Danny could figure out his situation, having to do it in shifts to not alert any of their parents.

However, without his haunt to pick up natural exoplasm, Danny was growing weaker and weaker by the day, looking half stave out in the little motel room Sam rented for him as they tried to get him back into the town.

Danny needed to either make his way back to his haunt or go somewhere that was so infected with ectoplasm that it actually felt cursed.

Tucker found the solution to all their problems with a few hacking skills that he learned to fight off Technus' invasive attempts of his personal tech.

"A full ride to Gotham Academy?" Wes' mom gasped staring at the acceptance letter her son eagerly showed her. "With a promised full ride to any university in America?!"

"Yeah, Tucker, Sam, Danny, and I all got accepted for our work on clean energy generators. We sent it in for the Wayne scholarship, and we won! The only thing is that it's a requirement to graduate from high school in Gotham. I have to go!" Wes gasped, eyeing both his dad's and Kyle's doubtful frowns. He couldn't afford for them to say no when Tucker had worked so hard to bump them up as Winners. Bruce Wayne's computer security is no joke. "This is the once in a life time opportunity!"

"But where would you live?" His dad asks, shaking the letter. "Wes, this is clear across states, and it only covers school expenses."

"Sam's parents bought her a house. She's going to rent us some of the extra rooms." It was a lie; her parents would never let four boys- especially these boys- rent from their daughter. She told them that the school provided co-dorm rooms "I can get a job at the local library- I already sent them my resume and got a call for a interview."

"What will you do for food?" Kyle asks. "We both know you can't cook."

"I can't, but Danny does. He's amazing in the kitchen."

Here, his parents share a loaded look. "So you'll be living with the Fenton boy....."

"Well. Yeah? I already said that?" He returns, confused, and Kuule coughs to cover a laugh. Confused he stares at his older brother, who quirks a grin at him.

"Don't worry about it." Kyle laughs, but his wiggling eyebrows tell Wes he should worry a lot about it. He would inisit a little more to find out what Kyle knew, but he needed to convince his parents more.

Eventually, after five days of attempting, Wes got their permission and could tell his friends, who all shared the same results. The remainder of the summer is spent preparing for their move- finding the house, getting it furnished, packing their things, transferring schools- it's a lot, and he's never been so grateful for Sam's wealth.

She hires people to get it all done for her-including hiring a trailer to take their four cars-, so he only has to worry about his packing. The four meet up at the airport on the day they live, flying first class thanks to Sam's grandmother.

Tearful goodbyes and good luck from their families leave them all a bit down but they board the plane and take off without too much trouble.

While on the plane, Sam turns to the boys. "Does everyone remember the phases of the plan?"

"Phase one: Blend into Gotham until we find Timothy Drake" Tucker states, pushing up his glasses

"Phase two: Get Drake to invite us over to his house and find the book," Danny tacks on, tapping his foot on the ground.

"Phase three: Find all the pieces for the counterspell- usually scattered around the magical family's ancestral home- and get Danny home!" Wes shouts, raising a fist in the air.

Sam nods, looking satisfied. "And what are we not allowed to do? Danny?"

"Become a vigilante when my ectoplasm is on a limited intake" Danny grumbles, sinking into his chair. "Let it to the Bats and keep my head low."

"Good. Tucker?"

"I'm not allowed to hack into anything because it can gain the attention of the Bats or Mr.Wayne, and then we'll be on a wanted list" Tucker sighs "No matter how much fun it would be to battle it out with the legendary Oracle."

"That's right. I'm not allowed to go anywhere near Poison Ivy no matter how much I want to yell at her to go fix the coal riffs and cut down forests instead of wasting her powers on the stupid heist." Same all but bites, and then she turns her attention to Wes, who startles.

"Wes?"

"Wait, I have a rule?"

"Course, man," Tucker laughs. "We all have rules."

"But I'm not interesrted in anything in Gotham besides the Drake grimoire!"

"Wes," Danny says gently, his soft baby blue eyes making him a little hot under the collar as they stare into his soul. "You're not allowed to fall in love with any of the Bats."

Wes mind blanks, then reboots, "Excuse me!?"

"We know you had a crush on all of us here Wes and Val" Sam laughs when he turns wide eyes at her. "It's cute but you really shouldn't try for the Bats. They're the violent sort"

"What?!"

"Yeah, you have a type, and it's a hero or hero adjacent." Tucker shrugs "It's cool."

Wes can only gape at them, no matter how much he tries to convince them; otherwise, the three refuse to remove his rule. He is highly offended by it.

Yes, he's never really gone out with Team Phantom, just because when he joined the group, most of Danny's rouges were long gone leaving behind the tiny ones that he could handle on his own, but he wasn't into heroes!

And okay- maybe, maybe at one point or another he may have had slight crushes on his friends but they were quick and gone before the first school year together!

So the rule is utterly ridiculous!

At least, he thinks so until five days later when he's trying to find his way around the new neighborhood and gets caught up in a mugging. He could have quickly taken the mugger- humans had nothing on ghosts- but he attempted to talk the young adult out of it when Red Robin swooped in like a knight in shining armor.

He may have just stared at the hero's tight-skin outfit instead of letting the hero know that he could handle it, and he may have made a fool of himself when Red Robin asked if he was right.

"Yeah tots fine" He babbles. Ugh, who says tots?! He wants to stop talking but when Wes gets nervous he tends to just word vomit and he could hear himself doing it now. "You know who else is fine?"

Red Robbin raises a brow, likely knowing the pickup line. Cowering, Wes changes the answer in a panic. "Timothy Drake!"

Red Robin stills. "Come again?"

"Timothy Drake, a boy in my class! He's fine that you think he was part siren or something. You've seen him, right? I mean you have eyes!" He repeats with a squeal "I want to get into his private liberty!"

"Do you?" Red Robin tilts his head, a slight smirk forming on his mouth. "You should try flirting with him then. Maybe he can give you a tour."

"Oh, I want more than a tour!"

Why did he say that?!

At least the hero in front of him laughs until a shout has them both looking away.

Danny is running down the street screaming his name, thank the Ancients. When Wes turns around to wave at him, Red Robin vanishes without a sound or trace.

Like a ghost.

Oh no, that's hot.

"Danny, I broke the rule"

"For Ancient's sake, it hasn't even been a month."

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #wes weston #Wes/Tim #do they have a ship name?#Wes has a type and it's heros #Tim thinks the new boy is cute #Danny just wants wes to open the childlock on his home town #Sam and Tucker are there for the ride

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thefifthmarauderstuff · 5 months

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|| “I've got you“ ||

Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader Fluff!!

A/N: It's been a long time y'all, so here's a short Bakugou fluff. I hope you like it!!

Once upon a time, in a bustling city where quirks and heroes reigned, there lived a fiery hero-in-training named Katsuki Bakugou. Known for his explosive personality and powerful quirk, he was fiercely determined to become the greatest hero. Yet, amidst battles and training, there was one person who could make his fiery heart flutter like no other—Y/N, a fellow classmate from the Infamous Hero School called U.A

Y/N was an aspiring hero-in-training with a heart of gold, her unwavering support and kindness touching everyone around her, especially Bakugou. Despite his gruff exterior, Bakugou found solace in Y/N's presence, drawn to her quiet strength and unwavering belief in him.

One sunny afternoon, as cherry blossoms painted the city in hues of pink, Bakugou found himself training in the park with Y/N and while Y/N watched from a distance, admiring his dedication, A stray villain's attack caught them off guard, which made Bakugou swiftly jumped in to protect Y/N, shielding her from harm with his explosive quirk.

"I've got you," he muttered, his voice filled with both concern and determination. Y/N's heart raced at his closeness, feeling the warmth of his protection.

Later, under the fading sunset, they sat on a bench, the cool breeze tugging at their hair. Bakugou, usually not one for words, turned to Y/N, a rare softness in his eyes.

"You know, you're annoyingly important to me," he grumbled, a faint blush dusting his cheeks.

Y/N chuckled, feeling her heart swell. "I feel the same way, Katsuki."

With a huff, Bakugou looked away, trying to hide the way his heart skipped a beat. But then, he tentatively reached for Y/N's hand, his touch gentle yet firm, intertwining their fingers.

"Idiot," he muttered, but his grip tightened, expressing what his words couldn't.

In that quiet moment, amidst the city's chaos and heroism, Bakugou and Y/N found a different kind of strength—in each other's presence, in the unspoken emotions, in a bond that bloomed like the cherry blossoms, painting their world with love and warmth.

Days flew by after the Incident and Their bond grew stronger with each passing day, as they navigated the challenges of hero training together. Bakugou found himself opening up more to Y/N, sharing his fears, dreams, and vulnerabilities that he had never shown to anyone before. Y/N, in turn, became his pillar of support, always there to reassure him and boost his confidence, even during his most trying moments.

One rainy evening, after a particularly grueling training session, they found themselves taking shelter under a canopy, raindrops creating a soothing melody around them. Bakugou, usually reserved about his feelings, spoke softly, "I don't know how you manage to put up with me."

Y/N smiled, reaching out to wipe away the raindrops from his cheek. "Because underneath that tough exterior, there's someone truly remarkable."

Their gazes locked, a silent understanding passing between them. Without a word, Bakugou leaned in, pressing a tender kiss on Y/N's lips, a gesture filled with a depth of emotion he struggled to express verbally.

As time passed, their relationship blossomed, becoming an anchor amid the chaos of their heroic endeavors. They found solace in stolen moments together, amidst the city's constant need for heroes, often sharing quiet evenings atop city rooftops, watching the stars glitter above the urban skyline.

Their classmates at U.A noticed the change in Bakugou—how his demeanor softened, how he'd unconsciously seek Y/N's presence in a crowded room, and how a genuine smile graced his lips more frequently.

Their love story became a whispered legend among the hero students, a testament to the power of finding someone who complements and supports you in ways no one else can.

And as they stood together, facing the challenges of a hero's life side by side, they knew that their love was a strength that would endure through any trial, a beacon of hope in a world that often needed saving.

#_kyozume #bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugo fluff #bakugou fluff #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugou self insert

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otherkinnews · 2 months

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One anti-furry bill died, the other two wait to be heard

(This blog post was originally posted on the Otherkin News blog on DreamWidth by Orion Scribner on March 24, 2024.)

Content warnings: Rated G. An urban legend that describes an unsanitary situation. Sexism against transgender people, including attempts to prevent them from going to school or using facilities, and outing children to their parents. A straw-man version of furries being used to try to discredit transgender people, in a way that could cause trouble for people who identify as nonhuman.

So far this year, Republicans have proposed three pieces of legislation that are opposed to furries or people who identify as nonhuman. That’s something they started doing last year, inspired by an urban legend about litter boxes in public schools, which they made up in parody of transgender students asking to use school restrooms. We’ve been ending up calling these “anti-furry bills” as we keep track of them in our Otherkin News blog. Furry isn’t the accurate word, but it is the word that Republicans use in the urban legend and usually in the bills too. Every once in a while, I’m checking on the status of the bills, and trying to see if there are any new ones. Here is the update for this week.

1. Oklahoma House Bill 3084 (OK HB 3084) “Schools; prohibiting certain students from participating in school curriculum or activities; effective date.”

Background: We wrote about this bill in detail in a previous Otherkin News post. The bill says that furry students should be taken out of school by animal control. Its only sponsor (writer) is Justin Humphrey (he/him). This seems linked with his opposition to LGBTQ people, as well as his efforts to legalize animal fighting. Later, Jim Olsen (he/him) took over as principal sponsor of the bill. He proposed changing it to have the same text as an unrelated bill of his, one requiring public school classrooms to display the Ten Commandments.

Update: The bill’s current status hasn’t changed since our last update. It’s still at 25% progression toward becoming a law. Its text hasn’t changed from what it was originally, so it's still about furries.

2. Mississippi House Bill 176 (MS HB 176) “Gender dysphoria; require school personnel to notify parents of student who request to be referred to as different gender or nonhuman.”

Background: This was introduced at the same time as the first bill. As we previously wrote about it, the bill is mostly against transgender students in a way that could put them in real danger. It would require schools to out transgender students to parents, and to allow faculty to not accommodate any student who “identif[ies] at school as a gender or pronoun that does not align with the child's sex on their birth certificate, other official records, sex assigned at birth, or identifying as an animal species, extraterrestrial being or inanimate object.”

Update: This bill’s current status is dead! Hooray! It died in committee on March 3. When a bill dies, that means that it won’t progress toward becoming a law.

3. Missouri House Bill 2678 (MO HB 2678) “Prohibits students from engaging in ‘furry’ behavior while at school”

Background: We previously wrote about this bill. The bill says to pull students out of school for being furries or purporting to be animals. The bill’s only sponsor is Cheri Toalson Reisch (she/her). This appears to be connected with her opposition to transgender people as well as her efforts to undermine public schools in favor of charter schools.

Updates: This bill hasn’t changed or moved forward. It’s still the same as it was when it was introduced. A hearing hasn’t been scheduled for it, and it’s not on a House calendar.

About the writer: This blog post was written by Orion Scribner (they/them), who has been a community historian and archivist for more than ten years.

#litterbox hoax #litter box hoax #litter box urban legend #furry #otherkin #therianthrope #nonhuman #US politics #OK HB 3084 #Oklahoma #transphobia #Mississippi #Missouri #MS HB 176 #MO HB 2678 #sexism #Otherkin News #rated G #unsanitary

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cinnaminsvga · 4 months

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🥀 | yoongi

the sleep deprived series (n.): drabbles that i write when i’m sad and tired

→ vampire!yoongi ft. lots of miscommunication (all because newly-turned yoongi doesn't know how to talk to women lol) | 2.6K words → a/n: SURPRISE i am miraculously alive and well (?) back at it again with some weird monsterfucker propaganda... it's been months since i've written a fic so pardon the lacking quality but i Am Trying... also i added ghost!maknaeline bc i think they'd be cute... umm this might become a series if anyone is interested but i think it works as a standalone... enjoy!!!

When Yoongi first agreed to being turned, he never imagined being so tired all the time. Even as a mortal, Yoongi had never been the most energetic soul. He preferred loafing around at home or reading a nice book by the fire. He rarely left his drafty villa, always isolated despite the nearby town. The most cardio he would ever do was when he’d take the few steps needed to get to his piano and play a few soft songs for the ghosts wandering down his halls.

He knew the neighbors liked to whisper about him, liked to refer to him as a local boogeyman to scare naughty children. “Beware the man who sold his soul to the devil,” they warned, though Yoongi supposes their silly rumors weren’t so far from the truth. Although, it was only a month ago that he did “sell his soul,” just not for the reasons that people might have expected.

Still, being a vampire was still very strange and new to Yoongi. He’d known about spirits and ghosts for as long as he can remember, but even he thought that creatures of the night were nothing more than an urban legend. All it took was one high-stakes game of cards and an empty promise to pay back a debt for Yoongi to realize that it probably isn’t smart to make deals with ghoulish-looking men in strange clothing in the first place.

It wasn’t all bad, save for the never-ending fatigue and deathly pallor to his skin. He was still Yoongi, just… worse, if you will.

For safety’s sake, he hadn’t told anyone about it. He was a bit embarrassed, to be honest. If his brother found out, he’d surely get an earful (or a stake through his heart, though Yoongi hopes his Seokjin hyung would remember all the good times they had together). Most importantly, he could absolutely NEVER tell you about his turning. That would be absolutely humiliating.

You were a witch doctor he had met just a few weeks prior to his turning. You had just moved into his sleepy town as a “pharmacist” who could “magically” make any ailment disappear. You had decided to move there on a whim after being exhausted from the high-paced nature of the big city.

You had spotted a small line of ghosts trailing after him on the night you had moved in. He had been on the way to the convenience store for a caffeine fix, and you had been on the way there to grab a couple of toiletries you had forgotten to pack.

You were so sweet, shyly approaching him under the guise of asking him if he could reach for a snack on a high shelf. But he could see your worried gaze fixed on the three spectral children climbing on his back, though he did nothing to shoo them away. After all, they had no mass, so as long as they didn’t lick his neck or something weird, he was fine with letting them be menaces.

When he had his back turned away from you to grab your snack, he could hear you quietly telling the ghosts to get off of him. They only laughed in response, their giggles always sounding a little muffled and distorted.

Yoongi plucked the bag of chips from the shelf and turned back to you, catching a glimpse of your annoyed expression before you could school it back into something more neutral.

“Is something the matter?” Yoongi asked smoothly, handing you the bag. He amusedly watched as your brows furrowed, not even hiding that you were glaring pointedly at the little gremlins making faces at you from his shoulder.

Jungkook, the youngest of the three ghosts, climbed on Yoongi’s head before proceeding to pull down his pants, mooning you with his spectral ass.

“Uh, nothing,” you eventually said, huffing indignantly as you stomped away. Yoongi caught you discreetly poking your tongue out in annoyance before you turned to another aisle.

Thus began your cautious attempts at exorcising him without trying to “alert” him to it. It was amusing to watch you try to “save” him from the three little ghosts that decided to cling onto him, and it was even more amusing to watch you fail repeatedly every time.

Yoongi made no comment when you were suddenly bumping into him everywhere he went. There was always a terse grin on your face as you performed as many anti-ghost spells as you could, but none of them ever seemed to work. The truth was, ghosts could only be exorcised if the haunted person in question wanted them to leave, but Yoongi had found himself a little fond of these stupid little kids. They might be slowly sucking the life force out of him, but Yoongi didn’t really care. They were just kids, and he’s always been too soft for his own good.

Your many encounters with him created a subtle friendship of sorts, one that Yoongi found himself enjoying. He was never been one to foster friendships with living beings, but perhaps your sweet attempts to save his soul might have defrosted his little grinch heart. But he wouldn’t ever tell you that, of course.

Plus, it didn’t hurt that you were very pretty, for that matter. He certainly would NEVER tell you that as well.

Was he feeling guilty for not telling you about his ability to see ghosts? Slightly. But was it cute watching you trying to outsmart three little ghost babies to no avail? Very much so.

So, Yoongi stayed quiet and enjoyed your company, even if you had no idea who he was or what type of things he was capable of.

That was until he got into that damn bet with the stupid bloodsucker.

Probably shouldn’t call him that, given that I’ve become one myself, Yoongi groaned internally. He’d been hiding in his house for a month now, and your “random” visits were surely on the horizon. He wasn’t sure if you’d immediately clock that he’d turned into a vampire, but he wasn’t going to risk it. If you found out, then you’d find out about everything, and that wouldn’t be a good impression.

Yoongi knew he wasn’t great at interacting with people, let alone people he had a crush on. But at least he knew that lying to someone for extended periods of time was probably not in his favor.

Little Jungkook fluttered close to him, his smoky form twinkling from the moonlight streaming through the living room windows. “When is the pretty witch coming to visit?” he asked, a little forlorn. Among the three ghosts, Jungkook was the one who’d grown attached to you the most. “I miss playing with her…”

Yoongi sighed, rubbing his face. “Hopefully never,” he responded, voice muffled by his hands. He peered through his fingers and saw the two other kids floating by his doorway.

Jimin, the older twin, nudged Taehyung forward to speak. “Y-Yoongi… I think she’s coming soon,” Taehyung whispered, a tinge of excitement evident in his tone.

“You can’t keep hiding from her forever… She's sure to find out anyway,” Jimin warned, uncharacteristically stern.

Yoongi stretched his tired limbs, his aching back cracking as he pushed himself off his sofa. Time moved weirdly ever since he turned into a vampire. This month had felt like a day, so it was hard to tell how long he'd been sitting so still. His creaking bones gave him an idea though, that's for sure. “I know… how much do I have to bribe you three to scare her away?”

Jungkook giggled, floating over to sit on Yoongi’s shoulder. “Nothing. We do that all the time for free,” he snickered.

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’s true… but she never seems to go away even when we do.”

“In fact, I know she thinks we’re cute,” Jimin said, and Yoongi couldn’t help but agree. Your cat and mouse game with the three idiots was probably past the point of annoyance and more towards the territory of playfulness. You likely noticed how they weren’t exactly the malicious ghosts that people feared, so you humored their antics.

(Yoongi hoped that you stuck around for him, too.)

“How much longer ’til she gets here?” Yoongi asked, walking to his bedroom. The air was stale inside the room, not having to use the bed as much as he once did. He opened his closet, trying to find some better-looking clothes than the threadbare robe he had decided to live in. He plucked a nice button-up shirt, before thinking better of it.

Am I really going to look like a stereotypical vampire when I meet her? What’s next, a cape?

“She’s a few blocks away,” Taehyung responded. The ghost paused, looking at the shirt Yoongi had put back. “No, wear that. She likes it when you wear that shirt.”

“She thinks you look regal in it,” Jimin agreed, grabbing his only pair of slacks. “These, too. She likes your butt in them.”

If Yoongi were still human, he’d probably blush. “I told you boys it’s rude to eavesdrop on her thoughts,” he scolded.

“You like the reassurance, though…” Jungkook muttered, but Yoongi ignored him.

“Two minutes away…!” Taehyung reminded him before disappearing. The two others followed suit, likely going to meet you before you arrived. Yoongi sighed, a headache slowly forming by his temple.

As promised, after two minutes, there was a knock from his front door. As Yoongi reluctantly approached and reached for the doorknob, he could hear you arguing playfully with his little friends.

“Taehyung, no pulling! I just got my hair fixed,” you whined. Despite your words, Yoongi could hear the affection in your voice, plain as day.

“You look really pretty today, noona…” Jungkook giggled, and Yoongi could imagine Jungkook placing a chaste kiss on your cheek in greeting. “Are you finally gonna tell hyung about your crush on him?”

“What are you talking about?!” you yelped. Yoongi heard something fall, then a string of curses from you. “Oh gosh, the food! I hope nothing spilled…”

“Don’t worry, noona. I doubt Yoongi hyung is hungry,” Jimin giggled slyly. “Unless you count how he’s hungry for you…”

Before you could reply to Jimin’s out-of-pocket comment, Yoongi swung open the door, an alarmed expression on his face. “H-hey, Y/N,” he began, a little awkwardly. He cleared his throat, trying to appear as if he hadn’t heard anything at all. “What do I owe this pleasure?”

You froze when Yoongi suddenly appeared. You were in the midst of rearranging the plastic bags of take-out food with your jaw agape, likely about to chastise Jimin for his rudeness. You floundered for a second before straightening up quickly. Your cheeks were a cute shade of red.

(Yeah, maybe he was a little hungry…)

“Yoongi! Oh god, sorry, I was just…” you stumbled for a moment, trying to figure out a way to explain yourself. Behind you, the three stooges grinned evilly, full of satisfaction.

“Do you need help?” Yoongi asked instead, bending down to gather your bags. The smell of take-out Chinese wafted into his nose, and he had to hide his growing smile. His favorite food, you had remembered. If he could eat, he’d be salivating.

“Yoongi hyung is salivating for a different reason…” Taehyung muttered, reading his thoughts. Yoongi and your eyes widened in alarm, causing the three kids to guffaw in response.

“Sorry, I was on the phone with somebody and the bags slipped,” you coughed, quickly grabbing the rest of the bags. In your haste, your hands accidentally touched, making you gasp in surprise.

“Gosh, Yoongi! Your hands are terribly cold! Are you alright…?” you asked, trailing off. When you tore your gaze away from his pale hand, you slowly turned to face him fully. Due to the uproar caused by the kids earlier, you hadn't been able to look at Yoongi properly since you arrived.

Yoongi braced himself, a terse smile on his lips.

You observed him silently, a mysterious emotion flitting through your face. Yoongi saw the way your gaze shifted to the injury on his neck, which he had recklessly forgotten to at least try to cover up. The dots were connecting, and Yoongi waited for you to make the first move.

To his surprise, you started by staring inquisitively at the kids. “Did you guys…?” you asked, suspicious. This was the first time you had openly addressed them in front of him, and Yoongi was shocked. Not only for that, but for also potentially thinking that they were to blame, somehow. Didn’t you trust them by now?

Jimin looked affronted, scoffing at your train of thought. “Us? Of course not! Why on earth would we do that to hyung?”

Jungkook huffed, wrapping an arm around your waist with a sad pout. “Yeah! Why would we hurt hyung on purpose? You don’t think we’d do that, right?” he asked, eyes watering with hurt tears.

Immediately, your expression softened. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean…” you trailed off, sighing. As if remembering where you were, you snapped back to reality, staring incredulously at Yoongi as if he’d grown three heads. Well, or turned into a vampire, he supposed.

“Yoongi! What on earth happened?” you asked, terrified for him. Or perhaps, terrified of him? Yoongi knew he should be feeling guilty, or embarrassed, or maybe a little ashamed, but all he could see was your worry for him, and his dead little heart would have skipped a beat if it still could. God, he was pathetic.

Instead of answering you truthfully, Yoongi chose to run away from his problems, like he always did. “It’s just a mosquito bite,” he explained lamely. He rubbed the very conspicuous marks in question, wincing slightly. It might have been a month since he turned, but it still felt as tender as it did the day it happened.

You stared at him, unimpressed. “In the middle of winter? When you rarely step out of your house?” you asked sarcastically. You gave him a steely glare. “Be serious with me for a second, Yoongi.”

But Yoongi couldn’t. He couldn’t tell you, or else he’d literally die a second death, from embarrassment or heartbreak, he couldn’t tell.

“I… I don’t actually know,” Yoongi lied. It was sort of true. He didn’t know that the stupid bet would actually mean he’d give up his soul to pay for an impossible debt. He had been swindled, that was it. He still didn’t understand how he could’ve been so stupid.

“He didn’t know he was stupid… what a joke,” Jimin murmured, causing the others to giggle in turn. You and Yoongi ignored them.

When he didn’t explain further, your shoulders slumped, defeated. You likely didn’t believe him one bit, but you were never the type to push. You were probably as shy as he was, which had caused its fair share of misunderstandings in the past. Most of the time, those misunderstandings helped Yoongi, though he often wished that he didn’t need them. One day, he’d be honest with you, but for now…

“May I come in, Yoongi? There’s something I have to tell you…” you started, eyes shifting behind you. The kids hovered closer, watching you with curiosity.

Yoongi felt the air turn colder, though he wasn’t sure if it was just him, the wind, or the ghosts doing it. Or maybe it was you.

Yoongi opened the door wider, gesturing for you to come in. “Please, make yourself at home…” he whispered before closing the door gently.

Outside, the three boys didn’t make a move to come in.

“Now… we wait,” Jimin whispered. The other two nodded, faces determined. They floated to the second floor of Yoongi’s villa, still keeping their ears to the floor. As much as they wanted to interrupt, they knew this was an important development for the two of you. They wanted to give you a false sense of privacy, but they could never stop themselves from hearing the gossip. God knows that these rascals would be bored without their daily dose of real telenovela romance.

In the living room, Yoongi took a seat as far away from you on the couch as possible. He laced his hands with an iron grip, forcing himself to stop any fidgeting.

Breaking the silence, you sighed tiredly. “So… where do I begin?”

#yoongi scenarios #yoongi imagines #yoongi x reader #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #min yoongi #the sleep deprived series #this has been IN MY DRAFTS for months now....#god i am so stuck in my monster phase #i want to write more... MORE...#is this what it feels like to be inspired #idk who i think i am but man... love this guy #kinda obsessed with this au tee bee aych

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fallingskiesandrisingseas · 7 months

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Alright everyone, buckle up. My Susan post talks about what happens to her after the story unfolds.

But what about the rest of the Pevensies?

Today, Lucy. ________________________________________

Lucy misses Narnia with every breath she takes.

England holds no magic, nothing as exasperating as the call of the fauns, the thrill of battle, the lightness that comes when she drinks too much meade.

Lucy comes back to an England in the middle of a war, is told to put up and shut up. Gone are the country days; Lucy is prepared for a normal life. And she manages. Mostly.

Because despite the quick wit and the inner light, that has only grown stronger, England can make little sense of the girl. A girl much wilder than the rest of them, much more polite.

Lucy takes to boarding school like a fish takes to dry land. No teacher ever sees the girl watching the board, and yet she never misses a word. Other girls do not understand her, this girl that only speaks in riddles and never wears shoes when it isn't mandatory.

Lucy, full of Aslan's words and eager to make something of herself, tries, really tries, to be friends with her schoolmates.

But her maturity goes far beyond being ahead on the school material. Her sense of morals and silver tongue do not allow for the backstabbing, gossiping girls that every boarding school has to cast her out, but she doesn't really belong, neither.

Everyone knows Lucy always listens. Few stay in her company long enough to figure out she also understands. No 13 year old girl should know that much about the war economy. Or about anything, really.

She's wild. Her books are full of drawings, her speech contains figures of speech no one has ever heard.

At school they take self-defense lessons one day -the war could come to England, after all- and Lucy cleaves a wooden block clean in two.

Her partner doesn't even see her move her leg.

Lucy always lifts her finger when drinking tea, has never broken a promise. She sits straight up in her chair, doesn't make a single error when she speaks. She doesn't get into fights with other girls, no matter how hard they try. It is impossible to outmanouver her verbally.

Everyone wonders if her brothers taught her to curse along with the debate training she has obvioulsy had.

Well-behaved isn't the word; Lucy is peculiar.

The only one who gets it, aside from Susan, is her dancing instructor. The man had taught royalty, ages ago. He moves four times the pace with her as he does with the rest of the class. There is an elegance to her, once you get used to the wandering eyes and the bare feet.

Lucy moves like a hurricane on legs. He teaches her tango, ballroom. Soon he has nothing to offer but better instructors. Lucy never misses a step. When dancing, her eyes are blazing. She is a district champion before the age of 14; on course to be a world champion before 18.

The old man does tell stories, however. Of when he was a young man, when he taught the queen. Lucy only feels alive then.

She moves through the years normally. In time, girls come to respect her maturity, learn not to ask who taught her how to ride horses and dance and throw knives. Lucy is always positive, rarely without a smile. She's not diplomatic like her sister. People come to her nonetheless. It feels impossible to remain somber in her presence. Yet she stays ahead of her peers. She isn't mature earlier, but rather just more.

Like she's lived another life.

The boys take notice, too. She has an inner light that shines very brightly, seems to believe in and embody magic. They try to woo her during gala's and dancing competitions, making bets among themselves who can get her to dance. Rarely do they succeed; Lucy sees through them almost instantly. Only when true and without ulterior motive does she accept invitations for dinner, drinks or dancing. And not without reason; a kiss from her is a nightcap unlike anything else.

Lucy's and the Pevensies' personal history becomes somewhat of an urban legend. Everyone has a theory, no one ever knows. One of the girls gets the bright idea to steal Lucy's diary from her room when she is away, but the stories are in a language none of them can read.

The next day, the girl doesn't show up. She's suddely gotten acne so bad she needs to take medication for it. Lucy's diary remains untouched for the rest of her years in the boarding school.

She has strange friends. Old professors, middleaged women, younger acquitances. They are all wild and like her. Among themselves they speak a language no one understands. Everyone thinks it must be an As(l)ian one.

The bond with her sister deteriorates over the years; at the end of her time there they are not close like they were at the beginning. Every girl in her dorm has a crush on one of the Pevensie brothers, however. They visit often, seem taller than they should.

Lucy smiles and dances and flirts and lives. But she is the one that misses magic the most. She sees the looks, feels the distance. She is the sun, but while everyone feels her warmth, none come too close.

When the spectre appears to warn them of problems in Narnia she finally feels like herself again. A queen of old, called on for aid. She jumps at the chance. She finds the rings, gets on the train.

When it crashes, she is thinking of Narnia.

#narnia meta #narnia #the chronicles of narnia #lucy pevensie #susan pevensie #lucy pevensie fanfic

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mitsybubbles · 3 months

Text

Age swap Serizawa and Tome edit

Plus some ideas I wrote about it below after talking at lenght about it with @acekindaneat

Tome runs spirits and such but keeping herself at a small distance because she’s terrified of sharing with other people and being dismissed so it’s a way of doing things “herself” but she’s not a psychic even though she wants to be and she needs People. Because of this she’s a little more interested in pursuing urban legends cases, haunting cases, or mysteries and tends to be disappointed if there is a normal explanation for it

Serizawa is a former shut in who was coaxed out by Tome after his mom hired her (since she claimed to be a psychic consultant) and is currently “training” him in his abilities. He just moved to a new middle school and is very anxious about being a member of society and fitting in without losing control again

Reigen is a year below Serizawa at their school and acts like a normal student during class hours and is well liked but not close to anyone but after hours he spends his time trying to “become someone of note” because he feels isolated by the norms of society. He keeps getting obsessed with and switching hobbies every other week. His current one when the story starts is private investigation. His sister is a year above Serizawa and is a top student

Mob is a NEET in who hid himself away after his powers caused several accidents and fractured his relationship with his younger brother. He only leaves to get amenities and he relies on his parents support or on a work at home job for money

Dimple is a new spirit who doesn’t know what his place in the world is yet. He doesn’t have a human form or memories but he still has human desires and impulses so he feels out of place in it.

-Serizawa finds Reigen researching into the LOL cult after he joined it hoping to make some friends and they both get sucked into the supernatural conspiracy behind it. Reigen realizes Seri is a psychic and decides he’s now into the occult and demands his boss hire him and drags him to Tome’s office

- Tome meeting adult Mezato and then coming to blows ala Reigen and Roshuuto because Tome is annoyed that Mezato is seeking out the occult “because she’s bored”

-Serizawa being cajoled by Toichirou to join his little gang and Serizawa actually enjoying it and seeing claw as his friends even tho he felt guilty about hurting other gang members but “it’s okay because Master Kurata says it’s okay to protect yourself from bad people right?” Also he was given the umbrella as a gift and Tome and Reigen notices how much Seri’s been using it and Tone mostly goes “huh you’re skills are coming along ig” because while shes supportive she also isn’t very attentive and Reigen’s more suspicious because seirzawa is spending less time with him. Due to being scared that his first real friend would leave him, Reigen is a little threatened by that so he lashes on seri. They argue and seri stops hanging with reigen. Then reigen feels bad and decides to apologize and gets caught by Toichi + co in a small hazing ritual to get seri to stop comparing himself as the same level as “commoners” by denouncing his friendship with a nonesper. So then they fight when seri refuses to and finally seri insists that he doesn’t have to be stronger or weaker than anyone else to get to have proper connections and he breaks the umbrella saving Reigen from crossfire

And then later Reigen feels bad about everything (and he also realizes Toichirou was right that he was only friends with seri because he was an esper) so he gives seri some pokemon cards playing it off by saying he had those laying around his room and gets thrown off when Seri is openly emotional about it and hugs him. Meanwhile Toichirou is reevaluating everything because everyone sort of ditched him after he wasn’t giving them smth in return (except Hatori sort of lol- Hatori likes his presence Enough and the StuCo leader Joseph who was trying to get him suspended)

Minegeshi is like 20 here and runs a flower shop that the kids hang out in. It’s probably destroyed now. Sorry my dude.

-Reigen wanting to search for the dragger after his sister tells him he can’t keep “goofing around” otherwise his parents will force him to settle on an proper interest

-Some kids hiring Tome to find a “ghost” that lives on their street and it ended up being Mob who refuses to interact with them in a meaningful way. Seri makes it his mission to help him. Serizawa wants to ‘prove’ hes better now by helping someone like him but then he and Mob make a connection and Serizawa understands that he has to let Mob accept himself and make that step himself.

Also Tome shows Mob the benefits of releasing one’s emotions in a safe space.

-Reigen and Mob meet at the office and really hit it off

-Teru hiring the gang to come exercise a spirit in his TV studio and he and Mob end up fighting because he thought he was the best esper ever, you know the deal. And meanwhile Tome and the kids deal with the spirit of Mogami who was a psychic child star that haunted Teru and possessed Minori because he’s jaded by people who lie and use others to get notoriety

-Roshuuto is like a wannabe popular kid that annoys the hell out of Reigen because he pretends to be people’s friends and dumps them for someone better and now he’s trying to do occult stuff for clout

-Hoshida is an exorcist without any powers that we know of but he’s really nice and genuinely cares about helping others. He’s one of Tome’s informants

-Separation arc where Tome closed spirits and such briefly after Serizawa leaves to “be a normal kid” for a while because she thinks she won’t find anything meaningful about the paranormal she was searching for because she’s only humoring people- it ends up with her meeting people from middle and highschool she fell out of touch with because of simmilar things and her realizing she should continue to do whatever she loves and she should also pay more attention to the kid who she genuinely cares for and vice versa even if he isn’t going along with her whims 24/7

-Mob trying to reconnect with Ritsu

-Confession arc where Serizawa injures his mother in an incident after he thought he was doing “better” so he runs away and has to confront his own powers- and Tome having to come to an understanding with him too

#mob psycho 100 #mp100 #ageswap au #tome kurata #serizawa katsuya #misty arts

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2smolbeans · 8 months

Note

I am OBSESSED with your Obey Me writings. Would it be possible to something where one of the brothers (or others) disguises themselves as someone else in order to sleep with their darling? Imagine if you tried to run away and they're still trying to make you love them so they know they can't just force themself onto you, but at the same time they NEED your body. Maybe it's even a continuous thing, imagine the horror if every new lover you take on turns out to be them. Over and over again you try to run away but end up running right back into their arms. The gaslighting potential is perfect for a yandere who wants the more subtle approach.

ANONN THISSS 💖💖 Also sorry this took so long to finish 😭

A Demon Inside The Church

Yandere Satan x Antro/mythologist reader

Tags: Religious themes, gaslighting, manipulation, minor nsfw depictions, stalking, impersonation, minor character death, deception, body marking, paranoia, attempts at escaping, Mc has a crush on someone, branding pact mark, possessive behavior, isolation.

*This is unedited and long

___________________________

You weren't always a superstitious person. In fact, you were a person of science, an atheist. However, you were always fascinated with what stories life had to offer, its history, and, as of recently, its beliefs. Mythos, urban legends, and religions- it had caught your eye when your philosophy professor had mentioned them in his typical lesson. A one-off mention, but you decided to look more into it. For some reason, it had unlocked a childhood memory of when you used to read Greek mythology back in middle school.

As of late, you started going to the church near your university campus. You weren't Christian, and by no means did you believe in an afterlife. But you were curious about Christianity and its beliefs. In the beginning, you weren't fascinated with the repetitive worship music that sounded the same. If anything, you had a hard time staying awake as the singers kept repeating the same words and phrases over and over.

But it was worth staying as the sermons would begin after. Each sermon teaches a new belief, a new lesson, a new verse. You were in awe with how the pastor would passionately preach his words, the things you'd learn about the people in the church.

It made you curious about what it would be like to study and record the cultures, religions, and traditions of people around the world. After all, if just learning and investigating your typical local church from an academic point of view was enjoyable, imagine the possibilities of branching out! Maybe perhaps becoming an anthropologist wouldn't be so bad.

You balanced it out, your school, and then your church. For once, everything felt like it was in place, you had reconnected with your old passion, recognizing faces, making acquaintances. You were truly happy.

Funny enough, you even met this guy who happened to be around the same age as you.

Brown eyes, brown hair. He was an average looking guy, nothing made him stand out. You didn't know his name, or if he went to the same university. But every Monday at exactly 3am, he'd show up and read at the library. It was interesting- he was interesting.

Like the bored nerd you were, you started speculating in your head. Why did he always appear at 3am? Was he perhaps a ghost that would only appear in the witching hours? A vampire that walked amongst the earth when it was dark? A low ranking angel who liked to relax in the church?

Of course these were all just make believe scenarios. You had a tendency to make up backstories or scenarios about recurring people. You weren't much of a talker or socializer, you didn't have a lot of close friends, but for some reason you had a bit of courage to go up to the man and talk to him. Though funny enough, the moment you approached him, he was already smiling at you, patting a chair next to him.

Awkwardly shifting your way towards the brown haired male, not expecting him to even acknowledge you. You sat down, trying to muster up any words. But soon enough, you calmed down as he spoke, his warm eyes comforting you as he let out a chuckle.

"Hey, no need to be nervous! I'm just chilling here"

He pulled out the chair for you, his chin resting on the palm of his head as he had a small grin on his face.

"Nono- uh, I'm not nervous..Just uhhh- sorry I don't know..”

You trailed off, unsure of what to do in the small talk.

"It's fine, no sweat! Anyways It's kinda nice talking to you for once"

"Sorry? Wait, do I know you?"

You let out a chuckle, feeling your cheeks heat up from the embarrassment that began to creep up.

"Well, I mean I dunno? I mean if you're wondering how I know you, I just see you around class here and there"

You perked up, accidentally raising your voice from your excitement, immediately covering your mouth with your hands as you apologized.

"WAIT SO YOU- Oh shit sorry..Wait so you also go to Morninghaven?!"

"Always have~"

The two of you talked for hours. By the time you both parted ways, it was already six in the morning. Little by little the two of you got closer, eventually getting each other's numbers and sitting together during each lecture. Apparently, he just liked going to the library at 3am because of how empty it was.

It was funny how the both of you had so much in common.

Damien was his name. That brown haired geek, Damien. It had been at least 5 months since you've known him, and you hated to admit it, but he was the first close friend you've ever made in a while. He indulged in your hyperfixations, listening to your rambles while he also returned the favor. He was talkative, always sure to give a long answer to something so small. Even if you were to ask him about his favorite color, he would somehow turn the conversation about the meaning and ‘biology’ about colors.

“Why do you do that?”

You suddenly asked him, sipping at your drink as he sat across from you.

“Do what?”

You swayed your legs back and forth, the height of the bar stool keeping your feet from touching the ground. Listening to the jumbled up conversations that warmed the cafe, you stared at Damien. Smiling while feeling flustered, eyebrows perked up, your voice perked up - you let your mind speak as you put your drink down.

“We always talk about something small, and somehow it devolves into a whole essay of a conversation about big things!”

You exclaimed, gesturing your hands, hoping that it would help aid your poor choice of words that you thought you made.

“Oh sorry..My bad…”

“Nono! It’s not bad! I’m just wondering why? I thought it would just bore you..Or that I was boring to talk to..”

You deflated, sinking down to your seat as you sipped your drink. Damien leaned forward out, ready to retaliate.

“What?! What are you saying?”

“..Do you just ramble because I don’t bring much to the conversation..?”

The both of you stayed in silence. You were trying to hold back a laugh as you purse your lips, while Damien had a deadpan smile.

“....Stay still. I’m gonna slap you”

Immediately, Damien began to reach for you from across the bar table, nearly knowing it down as you slapped away at his hands from touching your face. You were laughing hysterically while Damien muttered to you to “stay still damn it!” and “This is what you get for being such a dumb dumb!” while he continued his efforts.

“What! Gahh! Stop!!”

“Fine, fine! But y’know, have you ever thought that maybe I like rambling to you because I want to talk more with you?”

…Being around him was one of your favorite things throughout the day. He was just so warm..So comfortable to be around. He made you feel wanted, something that you haven't felt until you met him.

"Are you an angel?"

His voice pitched from the other side of the call.

"Pfft what?! That's so random! What is this all about?"

You playfully rolled your stomach onto the bed, your feet up in the air while your legs kicked up and down slowly.

"I'm serious. Are you?"

Rolling his eyes, Damien let out a smug smirk.

"I dunno, depends on you"

You'd be lying if you said that you didn't have some sort of attraction towards Damien. Sure, it was a small crush, but you were happy with the friendship you had with him. You didn’t care if he had gotten another partner or if he didn’t share the same feelings. You were just happy being with Damien who liked talking to you.

Though, you were wrong about that. Ironically, after a week of not seeing Damien. He had actually opened up to you about his feelings towards you. Telling you how he needed a break from spending time together, how he had realized he was slowly falling for you - how he didn't want to ruin the friendship between the two of you. He was scared to see you once he realized how strong his feelings were towards you. After that, the two of you started dating. The relationship felt strange at first, but you weren't complaining. Whatever you needed, Damien was there. When you were sad- Damien was there to comfort you. Whenever you walked to class, he was always right by your side.

It's always been like that, even when the two of you were just friends. But didn’t Damien also have friends to hangout with as well? He'd always go out with them every now and then, and you'd be left on your own whims.

But now?

There wasn't a time where Damien wasn't by your side.

Another thing you've noticed about Damien was that his temper sometimes got the best of him. When it came to the smallest of things- an ant crawling on one of his books, when you would hold your bible close to your chest, how you sometimes looked at other people for ‘too long’. He would either scoff or nearly pop a vein on his head.

How possessive he was towards you, always kissing you and holding you close. Sweetly convincing you to come back to bed, to always look at him, that he adores you too much for you to leave so soon. Bad mouthing the acquaintances that would take up your time from him. Jokingly wishing that they would drop dead or fall ill so that you could focus on him more.

The way he was prideful and rough he was whenever the two of you would be alone and intimate. His hands all over you, his teeth nipping at every inch of your skin. Almost as if he was in a hurry to get those marks all over your body. How he’d mutter those words into your ear, repeating it like a prayer while he shoved your face to whatever surface there was. How beautiful you looked to be ‘finally his’. How sharper his nails would feel whenever he grabbed your hips. The way he would rhythmically pump into you repeatedly, always in a trance with the purpose of cumming inside you. Always lovingly belittling you whenever you cried from the overstimulation, out matching your stamina in an inhuman amount.

It was weird how he never let you look at him whenever the two of you were doing those sorts of things..Was he trying to hide something?

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"How come you never let me see you whenever we do it?"

"...I don't want you seeing something you might not like.."

"Aww.. You know I love every part of you.. "

He hugged you, resting his head against the crook of your neck.

"If only.."

He was controlive over the little things you did.

“Why don’t you wear this? I don’t want people staring at you..”

“You have some time, right? So why don’t you just come with me instead of them?”

“Are you asking me to lock you up in this room? No? Then why are you making it so hard to just listen to me?”

He was always demanding to know where you were and what your plan for the day was. Making sure he had tabs on your daily activities.

Now that you noticed it, Damien was more..Dry. Sophisticated. Calculative. Sure, he would be somewhat expressive, smiling, and softly speaking. But, back then, he was more loud, more..Different. You felt so alienated from him at times. What happened? You couldn’t put your finger on it.

Was Damien always like this?

Damien even stopped going to the church. You found it weird since Damien loved going to church with you. It was the place you first met each other. He loved how you would study the pastor's words, making serious notes about the lessons. Sitting right next to you as he also made notes regarding the philosophy of Christianity. You were a church duo, even though the both of you weren’t religious.

But now..Damien hated it. Often complaining how annoying the pastor was with his scriptures. The thing he onced loved became the thing he despised the most. He was once friendly with the pastor. Now, you only find him staring eye to eye with the pastor, stoic towards his words.

"Be weary of the sweet temptations of the world. For Satan is cunning, speaking with honeyed words, luring you into damnation."

"But folks, we have to remember this. There is no need to fear him! He is dethroned, casted away by god. We must always declare his defeat. That is how we remove the authority of the enemy.”

You swore from the corner of your eye, and you saw Damien grin from that statement - as if it was personal to him. The next day, the pastor fell severely ill, according to his wife. You were worried, of course. You talked with the pastor here and there, and you wanted to at least send some medicine or soup for the poor man. Damien, however, just laughed at your attempts, hugging you as he pushed his face against your chest. Calling you adorable for ‘wanting to bother the old nut’.

You had a dream a few days later. You were in the church library, alone. Everything was distorted, books meshed together like liquid, people’s faces blurred out. But, Damien was there, waiting for you. The sweet angelic Damien you knew from the past, smiling and patting a chair that was next to him.

“I missed you”

Before you could say anything, you woke up. You couldn’t place on why you were feeling the way you were feeling, but you were incapable of holding back the tears from flowing. It was like you were grieving over a dead person. But, really- you were sad over nothing.

You were slowly getting paranoid over the small things that were starting to recur. Whenever you walked outside, there was always an owl there- it’s neck following your movements. The small whispers that you swore you could’ve heard calling out to you. The hands that would wrap around your waist whenever your back was turned. Your bible and church notes trashed or missing. The bite marks that would appear out of nowhere when you would wake up. Your mind pulled into a trance whenever you would stare too long into Damien’s eyes. The dreams..How your memories were vaugely replaced little by little with someone else you’ve never encountered.

The worst part was, your mind accepted it as normal - your body seemed to relax at the thought of it. But it wasn’t normal, you knew that.

You had a slight theory in your head, a terrifying thought that brought you shaking whenever you questioned its validity. Was this even Damien? He was acting so fucking weird ever since he disappeared for that week. Everything was just so odd. Like you were cursed by an unknown force. What if this wasn’t Damien? What if Damien was missing and you were dating some skin walker? When you knew Damien, he felt so warm and comfortable to be around. Now, if anything- it often felt too possessive, lustful- intense when you were with him.

It didn’t help when you found that mark behind your back.

____________

“Hey..Babe, what is this?”

"Oh that? Yeah, you're weird. I told you going to that party was a bad idea, but you didn't listen. You should've seen my face when you showed me it! Why did you think getting that tattoo was a good idea?"

But it wasn't a tattoo. The more you looked into the strange mark on your back, the more concerned you got. It was green, almost glowing. A demon marking.. A ritualistic mark that bonds you to the demon who claimed you as their own. You've read about this. The mark was equivalent to a proposal, promising an afterlife full of happiness in hell. What party did you even go to?

When did you get this?

"I don't know hun..You just showed up with it"

How the fuck do you get rid of it? Fuck, did you have to get laser surgery?

"Honey, calm down. It's not that bad. It's just a tattoo. Plus, I think it looks wonderful on you"

Nonono, you don't want this. Why was there some fucking satanic pact mark on your body?

"Maybe you should stop reading those books..Or maybe just take a break from the whole demons and angels church thing."

Why was this on your body?

"Honey, you know there’s no harm in it right? I think those books are starting to get into your head.."

Maybe...But still it was fucking creepy! But nonetheless, the constant studying and fixation of demons and hell were starting to tire you out. Maybe, you should focus on your assignments more..

___________

Time passed and it had been at least a year since you and Damien were dating. You were in your final year until graduation, and surprisingly- things were going smoothly. Though your paranoia worsened. You had tried to remove the mark behind your back, even paid for laser surgery to remove it. Explaining to the dermatologist that it was an accident tattoo. Though when the mark was removed, it appeared the next day- as if it completely healed over the treatment.

The relationship hadn’t changed..Damien was still possessive and greedy for your affection. However, Damien was somewhat back to his old self…Somewhat.

Thinking about the past, the stalking, the mark behind your back- it had brought an old familiar feeling back. The church, you wanted to go back and attend it. To at least say hi, for old times sake. To get some answers- some comfort about your fears. You contemplated on bringing Damien, but ultimately heavily decided against it. So you went at night, opening the doors to be greeted with the warmth you were once familiar with.

You smiled as you saw the pastor on the stage, cleaning up and checking up on the instruments for the worship band.

“Sir! How are you? It’s been so long”

The pastor walked towards you, extending his arms out to you as he smiled.

“It’s been so long! What happened? I thought you moved!”

You chuckled, hugging him close as you embraced him, enjoying how cozy he felt.

“Nono! Of course not! Things just got in the way. But I’m glad you’re still here”

The pastor stepped away, eying you up and down, wanting to say something before holding back as he motioned you to follow him. Walking behind him, you both ended up in the office that was located in the basement of the church.

“Sit, I want to talk to you about something”

He sat down behind the table, rummaging through the wooden desk, looking for something as you sat across him.

“I’m a bit worried for you. You disappeared for a while..Something seems off about you..Is anything bothering you?”

You sat quiet for a bit. Should you mention the mark? You wanted to, but you were scared with the answer that would come out. So you didn’t mention it, but you mentioned the other instances you felt when something was wrong.

“Well..I felt paranoid. Whenever I’m not looking it felt like someone was there, touching and whispering in my ear..There’s always there..Like-”

“An unease? That the room feels a lot heavier?”

“Yeah..Exactly like that..But it’s no longer like that! Sure it’s here and there, but it’s really nothing”

The pastor just stared at you. Biting his lip before handing you two things. Anointing oil, and a bottle of holy water..

"I think you should take these. The anointing oil will help protect whatever room, person, or thing of yours"

You took it, examining the items as he continued speaking to you.

"With the oil, you just take a bit of it on your finger and draw a cross on it. It's best that you say a prayer before it"

You nodded your head, smiling as he continued.

“I plead the blood of Jesus Christ over this room. I pray and demand that any spirits in this room be gone in the name of the lord. That this oil that is anointed with the holy spirit will shield and protect me from Satan.”

"Like that?"

Smiling, he gestured his hands, telling you to hold the items close to you.

"Of course! And with the holy water..Well I'm assuming you've watched a bunch of horror movies haha!"

Thanking the pastor, you eventually made your way back home. Promising that you would keep in touch with him as he ushered you outside the doors. When you finally arrived at your dormitory, you let out a scream as Damien stood in front of you.

“Jesus! Damien! Don’t just stand there!”

“Where were you?”

Oh right, you didn’t tell him..

“I was just out running some errands, walking around, sorry I forgot to tell you..”

You felt more worried about him finding out about going back to the church rather than his concern for you.

“Are you lying?”

You exclaimed as you dropped your bag, patting his shoulder as your lips stretched out to a thin line.

“Damien..I would never lie to you..”

You almost felt guilty for deceiving him, but you didn’t want him to know.

“..Well, let’s go back to bed okay? The bed felt cold without you..So please?”

He pleaded with you, turning off the lights, guiding you to the bed short after as his hands grabbed onto yours.

“Haha, of course.”

“I love you so much..”

______________

You’ve been thinking about it, using the oil and holy water. When Damien was gone for an hour to do an exam, he needed to pass. You, who were free from all of your work, decided to open the anointing oil. Putting a few drops of the oil on the tip of your finger, you anointed the room. Drawing a cross, as you said a small prayer.

Maybe one or two more would be best? You thought of nothing of it. It was just a gift, something that you wanted to try. Something that would perhaps ease your fear. Nothing would come out of it.

But something did.

Damien had a severe headache and reaction the moment he stepped in your room. Groaning in pain as he nearly fell to the floor. Clutching his head in pain as the ungodly sounds of wheezing came out of his throat. You were terrified as you saw Damien try to get ahold of himself. Whispering to himself while you stood there, frozen.

Adrenaline rushed through your body as a million thoughts went through your head. He was just stressed, right? He just came back from an exam, maybe he's tired. You tried to rationalize your extreme theories to calm yourself down. But even then, a few words had slipped out of your mouth - unconsciously wanting to test out your theory.

"Get behind me Satan."

He knelt as he stared at you in disbelief.

".......What?"

Your voice shook in fear, your eyes furrowing as you stared at your boyfriend.

“You heard me. Who are you?”

Fixing his composure, Damien looked at you concerned. Cautiously approaching you while also keeping a safe distance.

“Honey, what are you talking about? Calm down okay? Take a deep breath, I was just a bit stressed from staying up all night”

You sneered as you were quick to grab the holy water from your cabinet, loosening the cap as you raised your voice.

“Cut the shit. G-God..What did you do to Damien?!”

Tearing up, you shouted as you splashed the holy water at him. Making sure to throw a large amount towards his face.

“Honey what are you talkin- FUCK!”

He sneered in pain, cowering down as he tried to cover himself. Now you were panicking as your theory was confirmed. You had almost felt bad, stupid, delusional even. But now? Your fight or flight senses were triggered.

“W-Why did that hurt you?! HUH?! T-TELL ME!”

You waved the bottle frantically. Your eyes widening as you saw his skin burning in agitation from the water that hit his skin. He tried to excuse himself, to save whatever grace he had. But you weren’t having it. Screaming out scriptures, dousing him in holy water- you had eventually revealed him for what he truly was.

Blonde hair, curled horns protruding out of his head, the sharp tail that moved side to side swiftly. He wasn't human. This wasn't Damien.

“This hurts you! You’re..A demon..In the name of the holy-"

But before you could finish your sentence, your prayer, your last ditch effort to handle the situation, he interrupted you. Rushing towards you he pinned you against the cabinet that you were standing behind. His hands gripping onto the edges of the wood, your body sandwiched in between the hard surface and his chest. With nowhere to escape, you tried screaming- but he was quick to wrap a hand around your throat, threatening to squeeze deathly tight, warning you to keep quiet.

“Are you finished? I could kill you right now and take you with me for all eternity. But I would rather take my time and not hurt you... So just be good for me, okay?”

You nodded your head frantically, trying to speak as your words were whispered. He eyed you, loosening his grip around your neck.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Who are you?”

In awe, his lips softly kissed your cheek, trying to comfort you as you teared up from fear.

“Aww..Love..Well, it’s obvious isn’t it? Satan, that’s who I am. I know this is a lot for you but, I want you to know that I love you. Okay?”

Satan.

Satan?

The demon that replaced Damien, the one who made you breakfast everyday. The one who was jealous whenever you dared speak to anyone. The one you gave your virginity to..?

Satan himself was in love with you? Satan, the prince of darkness, one of the rulers of hell- was here professing his love to you. How long has he been using Damien’s face for? Where was Damien if he was taking his place?

“Where’s Damien then? What did you do to him?”

You asked, your lips shuddering as you thought about him. If he had disappeared, then..

“Don’t worry about him, he's fine. Better than how he was wasting his life away before”

A surge of panic coursed through your body, your hands instinctively shoved Satan away with all of your strength.

“YOU KILLED HIM?!”

Unfazed, he sighed as if you were overreacting. His palms reached out towards you, telling you to calm down from your outburst.

“Now, he wasn’t in any pain. He didn’t even see it coming, so don’t worry about him. Afterall, he became the sweet angel you always thought of him as. So either way, everyone benefits in this situation”

Your jaw clenched as your eyes wavered at the demon who stood in front of you.

“I’m not going to hurt you...I’m not doing this for the sake of destroying your life. In fact- I’m doing it for the sake of making it better! I love you, you don’t understand - I need you. You fascinate me - you're the only human on this earth I deem tolerable!"

"I had to do it, I know it’s hard for you to understand, but Damien was just a nobody in your life. There are lots of people like him out there in the world. So please, just think for a moment."

You recoiled as you felt his sharp nails softly outline the curves of your face. Cringing as you stood there fear, hearing his insane ramblings.

“You’ve read about me. Studied me. Talked about me. You were just as interested in me as I was for you. Don’t you think that's special?”

Bitterly, you spat at his face.

"I want you gone. Out of my life. I will never love you- you'll never have me. Get out."

He looked at you, almost remorseful as you glared at him- only to then smirk and roll his eyes..And with that, he disappeared in a blink of an eye. For a good year, even until graduation- you never saw him again. It was almost as if he never existed.

All the messages, the call histories, everything- they were gone.

____________________

It had been a few years ever since he stopped approaching you, only deciding to watch you from a distance. Hiding in the shadows, lurking in the small corners of your home, he admired you.

It drove him mad when observed your cute little attempts at avoiding him. Always wearing that small cross around your neck, never interacting with anyone outside of the church. Praying everyday on the edge of your bed before you go to sleep, hoping to ward him off forever.

You were such an adorable little sheep. So desperate to keep him away, not knowing it only made him want you more. Every night he watched you, hungrily devouring your body with his eyes, enjoying how meek you've become. He wanted to take you right then and there, surprising you with his presence when he would emerge from the shadows. How would your face look in fear? Would you scream at him? Attempt to perform an exorcism?

Would it be enjoyable watching you break down from the spot? Hearing you whimper when he would corner you. Watching you plead for him to leave you alone. The slow burn of you fearing him, only to reach out to him out of desperation when he's hovering over you.

You're starved aren't you? Lonely, and starved for an ounce of emotional attention. You haven't been talking to a lot of people lately, even when you're in the illusion of safety when you're in the church. He felt so bad for you, yet so eager for you. All vulnerable and alone..You're still sad about that human boy weren't you?

That's okay.

There was nothing a new face couldn't fix.

Sooner or later, he'll have you forget about him. He'll have you wrapped up around his finger. You'll live your perfect minuscule human life with him until death do you part- temporarily. After all, heaven wouldn't allow an angel with the mark of the beast into their pearly gates, would they?

A new face, a new name. He would meet you again at the church. Charming you with his words, coaxing you with his sweet voice that was hard to resist. Making you smile again, hearing that angelic laugh of yours, feeling your warmth when you cuddled underneath him.

He missed how good it felt to be with you. He loved every bit of it. How it gave him an excuse to act out on his pent up urges towards you. To have your legs so nicely wrapped around his torso, drowning in pure lust from those sweet sounds you'd make. To finally have your body all to himself.

It wouldn't last for long though.. You were smart- too smart. You always somehow found out a way to identify him through the smallest of ways. Through the subtle gestures he'd make, the appearance he decided to appear as, or even from saying an old ancient spell against him just to see his reaction. You even went as far as spraying him with holy water like some sort of cat at one point.

How intentive!

That's why he loved you. You were so intelligent, brighter than most. That's why he didn't mind doing it over and over again. Like a game of cat and mouse. You'd gain a sense of security, feeling confident that the man right next to you wasn't him- only for it to break again when you came to terms with the truth.

He didn't mind. It was exciting watching you ponder about him. It was special what the both of you had together. Seeing your face contort in pure anguish and rage when you realized that the person you had slept with, the one you had trusted your whole heart with, was only him the entire time. How you would beg, even try to bribe him with intimacy and sex- just for him to leave you alone. Pleading him to stop impersonating people and potential partners.

"But this is fun darling. Watching you break down every time~"

"I can't just give it all up for something I can do whenever we're together"

"There's really no issue here, you're the only one who's making it a problem"

"Running away, panicking for no reason…You already know I won't hurt you. I just want to love you."

"So really, when will you stop?"

No matter how much you run, he'll always have you in his arms. Even in death, you won't ever be able to escape him.

How long will it take for you to crumble and accept him? When will you stop running away from him? Time and time again, you would run away- only to come crawling back to him.

So why don't you just accept the inevitable?

_____________________________

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fortunelowtier · 5 months

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My favorite TV show conspiracy theory of all time will always be the one abt Breaking Bad where Walter White is just a normal teacher and the show itself is an elaborate collective fanfic written by Walter's students because none of them know what he does on his free time

Like the show itself is the result of all of his students spitballing random shit at lunch or after school like "yo dude what if Mr White was like...a drug kingpin? I mean he's totally smart enough" and then their friends all like "duuude I can see that!!" And it just becomes like an urban legend within the school

#breaking bad #walter white #brba #bbvrai #brbavrai #putting those tags here too cuz why not

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blackreaderfics · 10 months

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Pinky Promises | Clark Kent x Reader

↳ Pairing : MAWS Clark Kent x Fem!Reader

↳ Rating : PG

↳ Summary : childhood friends meet again under unlikely circumstances

↳ W.C : ~1.3k

↳ Tags: fluff, mild language, flashback, childhood friends, extrovert!reader x introvert!clark, reader giving manic pixie dream girl vibes, heat vision when excited/agitated/stressed, mixed in some MoS backstory

“Give them back!” Clark swiped at the older boy who was now dangling his glasses high above his head.

“Or what, four eyes?” His bully since the first day of middle school, Billy sneered. “I just wanna see ’em.”

Clark knew that wasn’t true. Every time Billy wanted to “see” something he’d just outright take it without giving it back. It started with his pencils, which was innocuous enough, until it moved on to the lunches his mom packed, and even his new sneakers at one point.

Clark was okay with losing those things. He had plenty of pencils, and he was never really that hungry. He could try and fly home if worst came to worst too, but his glasses were the one thing he couldn’t give up to Billy.

The first time his heat vision had flared up, Billy had spilled his carton of milk in his lap on purpose, making it look like Clark had peed himself in front of half the school. He’d almost burned a hole into the school lunch table out of embarrassment. The second time happened on that same day, after school when he’d snapped at his mother for prying too much, singeing the doorframe.

A few days later Martha Kent would give him a special pair of glasses that she’d made herself using the glass of the spaceship he landed in. And upon seeing her gift, he’d bury his face into his mother’s arms as an apology and a ‘thank you’.

“How the hell are you even seeing through these?” Billy inspected the glasses, all the while avoiding Clark’s reach. “They don’t even work. Just a piece of garbage.”

Clark could feel his anger rising and a prickling heat behind his eyes. Reflexively he squeezed his eyes shut and stumbled, tripping backward from Billy’s rough shove.

“What? You crying, loser?” He taunted. “Don’t worry I’ll take out the trash for you.” Billy wound up, preparing to throw the glasses like a baseball.

“Hey! Leave him alone you big bully!”

Clark peeked his eyes open to see you barreling down the road wielding a baseball bat and already swinging wildly.

Clark had heard about you offhandedly from his peers. You were like a Smallville Middle School urban legend mostly for your weird outfits and lack of filter. Unlike Clark, no one dared to bully you for fear of your unpredictable nature. Even Billy, big as he was, knew better than to stick around to test it.

“That’s right! You better run!” You shouted as Billy escaped.

Clark blinked dumbly back at you, and even more dumbly when he felt his glasses being placed back on his face. Your face was close, and your mouth was moving but he could only hear the sound of his heartbeat thumping in his ears. Your tugging him to his feet was what finally pulled him back to reality.

“—and if any one bothers you again they’re gonna have to go through me! And if I’m not there you better fight back and kick his butt, Clark!”

You held out a pinky, the look on your face leaving no room for Clark to refuse it. He linked his pinky with your own, marking the beginning of your friendship along with the unofficial beginning of Clark’s crush on you. The next day you would sit next to him at lunch, naturally, as if you had always been friends.

The Kents began to notice that their usually quiet son was visibly happier and becoming much more talkative. Imagine Martha Kent’s surprise when a phone call for Clark came into the house phone, and a female voice was on the other end.

Jonathan Kent would be equally surprised when he accidentally picked up the house phone and overheard Clark talking to you excitedly about his favorite book series. Needless to say, they would hint incessantly to Clark that he should invite his new “friend” over for dinner.

It wasn’t long before you were inseparable; and for all of middle school everywhere he was, you were not far off. Until one day you told him you were moving away, 100 miles away to be exact, to Metropolis.

You would pinky promise each other to keep in touch but as you both got busier and Clark discovered more about his own origins, the letters and phone calls became more sparse until communication stopped entirely.

10 years later

The one day you decided to get your hair done was the day some eldritch abomination decided to descend upon the city of Metropolis.

You were used to it by now; you had your fair share of close calls. Most people would hole themselves up in their apartments and never come out with all the intermittent attacks lately, but you weren’t most people and in your opinion, living in fear was not living at all.

So when you found yourself falling to your death from a building, you accepted your fate and braced yourself for the inevitable impact. Only...it never came. You did feel your cheek resting against something hard though, and when you looked up at what seemed to break your fall, you found yourself face to face with the “Man of Steel” himself: Superman.

“Fear not, citizen. You’re safe now.” You could hear his deep voice rumble from his chest to your ear as he spoke.

When Clark finally got a good look at your face, it felt like he was back in Smallville again, back to the day you’d chased Billy off. Back to the moment your face had filled his vision entirely; All he could see was you. He almost blurted out your name out of surprise until he remembered he was supposed to be a hero now and not Clark Kent, the farm boy.

“You look…” You began but then trailed off as you stared at his face. You were breathless from everything; the fall, the chaos, and now the handsome man who made you feel safe in his arms. You couldn't quite place it, but he looked oddly familiar. “You look a lot like someone I know.”

“I…get that a lot, Ma’am.” Clark tried to sound professional and not alarmed at the fact that there was a chance you’d recognize him. “Get to safety quickly.” He recovered the authority in his voice, but it was now clashing with his reddening face. When he set you down, you wondered why the charismatic superhero you’d seen on TV seemed much shyer in person.

“Well, I would but--” Your eyes both drifted to where he still had a protective arm circled around your waist, pulling you close to his body. Upon realizing he hadn’t let you go, he jerked his arm away to give an awkward salute.

You gave him a curious look; He was so jumpy and…cute? Oh god, it was killing you. Where had you seen that face before?

A loud crash accompanied by a guttural roar from the 50-foot-tall monster in the background saved Clark from further embarrassment. “Well, uh, that’s my cue.”

“Hey, Superman?” You suddenly spoke up as he turned around.

He paused to look back at you, mid-preparation for flight.

“Kick its fucking ass!”

And with that, he returned you a bashful smile with a thumbs up and took off into the air.

That night, after a long fight with the inter-dimensional threat, Clark had gotten a voicemail from his Mom saying that you had called her asking for his number. Not shortly after, his phone vibrated, an unknown number with a Metropolis area code filling the screen. It must’ve been you.

“Hey, it’s me, Y/N. Something reminded me of you today." His heart leaped. Ten years later and yet your voice still made his heart rate erratic; a form of muscle memory.

"I got your number from your Mom," You continued. "Do you…still remember that promise we made when we were kids? The day before I moved.” You talked to him like you’d never left. Like you were picking back up a conversation that began yesterday and not a decade ago.

How could Clark possibly forget? And what happened to ‘Hello, how are you?’ But being too embarrassed to say it out loud, he could only breathe out a shaky “Y-yea. I remember.”

On a warm summer day, you made rings out of dandelions and a half-joking pinky promise that you would marry each other someday.

You were kids who didn’t know much about marriage or how it worked exactly, but you knew that’s what people did if they liked each other enough. And there was no doubt that you both liked each other because that pinky promise was the first and only one that had been sealed with a kiss.

©️ blackreaderfics // credit to cafekitsune for the dividers

#reader figures out he’s Superman pretty quickly later on offscreen 🤭#needed to write fluff after all the smut lol #cross posted on ao3 #maws x reader #maws clark kent #maws x you #clark kent x reader #my adventures with superman #maws imagines #brfwrites

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northoftheroad · 11 months

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Dick Grayson reading in Rebirth and forward

In the last few years, there have been several comics where Nightwing is guest starring that I haven't picked up, so maybe I have missed some smashing comics in here; just saying. As usual, take this list for what it's worth – my personal interpretations and reflections. (Please note that there is a difference between cover date and when a book is actually published, and I might have mixed these dates in the list. I mostly use them to help my own thought process.)

I gather DC lets their creators play in any sandbox/Earth/continuity they want, which means it's a fool's errand to try to understand what, if any, stories from Dick's past are supposed to have happened in the current continuity. But I never claimed to be quite sane, did I...? Here is me, trying to piece together stories chronologically story-wise:

Nightwing vol 4 # 82. Flashbacks to pre-Dick John and Mary Grayson.

Batman vol 3 # 54. Has some flashbacks from when Dick was new in Wayne Manor. He has nightmares, climbs a chandelier, questions why Bruce took him in, and apparently doesn't know Bruce is Batman: nothing special but a few nice pages.

The Precedent. In Detective Comics # 1000 (2019). Bruce's hesitation before he lets Dick become Robin. Unclear if it's supposed to be in the current continuity.

Robin and Batman # 1��3 (2021-2022). A three-issue story that takes place in the days around Dick's twelfth birthday. It's about how Dick eventually chooses not to be "the dark" like Batman, but something better – the light, Robin. Not in the main continuity, but another version of how Dick became Robin (also a first meeting with the other original Teen Titans - in this version, they already had suits and code names when Dick first became Robin).

Batman: Urban Legends # 23

Hot pursuit. In Batman: Urban Legends # 23 (March 2023). Cute short story; Robin drives the Batmobile for the first time (his second year as Robin).

Batman One bad day: Mr Freeze. (2022) Probably not set in the main continuity, Robin is small and wears a winter suit.

Batman/Superman: World's Finest vol 1 (2022). One of my favourite books from the current era (written by Mark Waid). It has a different tone than other in-continuity books (in a good way), but it is connected; the first story arc is a prequel to Batman vs Robin and the Lazarus Planet event. Dick has been Robin for a few years in the book except for a few panels. My favourite issue is # 6, when Dick is lost in the past, works in a circus and solves a mystery.

Batman/Superman (2019) # 16–21 and Annual 2021 # 1 is an outstanding story with DickRobin, albeit not the main Earth version.

Nightwing vol 4 # 78. There are a few pages of flashbacks, what might be Dick and Barbara's first meeting, fighting bullies at school. The bully, Shelton Lyle, will later turn out to be the villain Heartless – Nightwing fighting him is a story that keeps getting set on hold.

Batgirl vol 5 # 14–17 (October 2017– January 2018). Guest starring Nightwing, including flashbacks to when he was Robin and Dick and Barbara were in High School. Nothing special.

World's Finest: Teen Titans (2023). New book about the Teen Titans (the original five plus Bumblebee) when they're starting, also written by Mark Waid. One issue has been published so far; Robin is struggling with combining Batman's distrust with leading the team.

Nightwing vol 4 # 92. Another couple of flashback pages, from Dick's time as Robin, when he took on more than he could chew and got hurt saving a guy's life. Alfred refuses to let Bruce into Dick's bedroom unless he removes the cowl "and leave your disapproval at the door".

"A little nudge". In Robin 80th Anniversary Special (2020). It's probably not the latest official story about how Dick left Robin to become Nightwing, but I wouldn't mind if it were. Dick leaves Robin by his own choice; Bruce is a bit of a jerk because he's not emotionally mature enough to say, "I know you've grown up and should move on; I'll be fine without you."

Nightwing vol 4 # 79. Flashback page of Dick leaving the Manor, saying, "He fired me, Alfred" (he's eighteen at the time). So evidently, Tom Taylor goes with that version in his writing.

Nightwing vol 4 # 39

Nightwing vol 4 # 39. Flashback to when Dick was a student in Blüdhaven, after leaving Robin and before he became Nightwing. He goes out to look for a murderer dressed in old workout clothes that looks a lot like his original Nightwing suit. Part of the best story arc of Nightwing vol 4, so don't miss it!

Red Hood and the Outlaws vol 2 Annual # 1. A team-up issue with Nightwing with a flashback to when Jason saw the Flying Graysons. And to their first meeting at Wayne Manor, which didn't go well because Alfred decided to give newcomer Jason Dick's bedroom because the Manor evidently suffers from a shortage of beds... <insert rolling eyes emoji here> Eminently skippable issue...

Nightwing Annual 2021

Nightwing Annual 2021 (2022). Part of the book is a flashback story. Dick, who lives at the Titans tower, talks about how Bruce fired him and got a replacement. But when Alfred asks him to visit (calling Bruce his father), he comes to see Jason, who complains about how it's impossible to live up to the standard Dick set as Robin. They take the Batmobile (with Alfred's blessing) and head out. It seems to be their first meeting, which makes RHATO vol Annual 2 # 1 obsolete.

Nightwing vol 4 # 89. A team-up with Jon Kent/Superman, starting with a few pages flashback to their first meeting when Jon was getting his powers. Dick is wearing his red New 52 Nightwing suit.

Titans (2016–2019). I think the series was pretty meh, though Annual # 1 and Special # 1 have badass Nightwing moments.

DC Rebirth Holiday Special (2016) # 1, has a nice Titans story but nothing of further importance.

Rebirth Nightwing # 1. Dick returns to being Nightwing after the Grayson run, all set to pretend to work for the Parliament of Owls (see Robin War, part of New 52).

Nightwing vol 4 # 1 (September 2017) – # 4. Better than Batman. Nightwing is working undercover with the Parliament, partnered with the new character Raptor who, it turns out, loved his mum and has a personal vendetta with Bruce Wayne because he took Dick from his roots.

Monster men. A storyline with the villain Professor Hugo Strange in Nightwing # 5-6, Batman # 7-8, Detective Comics # 941–942 (and some more books I haven't read). Dick is temporarily transformed into a monster and later saves the day by jumping into a monster to administer some antitherapy. Nothing of future importance but some nice panels regarding how well Dick knows Bruce.

Nightwing vol 4 # 7–8 (January 2017). Rise of Raptor. Nightwing discovers that Raptor has been stalking Dick Grayson since childhood. Raptor abducts Bruce Wayne and puts him in a death trap, but Nightwing saves him when he jumps. I quite enjoy the Raptor stories, I have to say.

Nightwing vol 4 # 9 (January 2017). A team-up with Superman, who was not a guy he knew at the time since this Superman had come from the pre-Flashpoint universe and somehow merged with New 52 Superman (no, I still don't understand it). It mostly takes place in Dick's dreams. Known for a quote from Superman: "Of everyone I've met here, you're the least changed from the version I knew. Always confident, always kind, always cool. Dick Grayson – the multiversal constant."

Nightwing vol 4 # 10 (February 2017) – 14 (April 2017). Dick moves to Blüdhaven (I think people got their memories or stolen time back at some time in Rebirth, which would explain how he was new in the city here, but had lived and been a cop there (as in Nightwing vol 2) later in vol 4.) He volunteers for a program for teens at a community centre, where he meets Shawn Tsang/Defacer, an "art terrorist" Batman and Robin once fought back in the day. Nightwing works to prove she and Gorilla Grim aren't murderers.

Batman vol 3 # 16 (April 2017) Has a fun couple of pages with Bruce and Dick, Jason, Damian and Duke at Bat Burger; Bruce warns the boys to stay out of Gotham and out of Bane's way, which Dick, Jason and Damian, of course, disregard. The issue ends with Batman finding them hanging by their necks in the Batcave. In # 17, we see they survived, and Bruce has left them frozen with Superman at the Fortress of Solitude for safekeeping.

Nightwing vol 4 # 15 (April 2017). Dick and Shawn Tsang/Defacer start dating. Interlude with many guest stars whom Dick talks to about his new life in Blüdhaven.

Nightwing vol 4 # 20

Nightwing vol 4 # 16 – 20 (July 2017). Nightwing Must Die. Nice if you want to see Dick and Damian together again. Shawn is abducted while having a pregnancy scare, and Damian follows Dick to save her. (He went to Blüdhaven because he was upset people counted on Dick to become the Batman after Bruce's retirement, but later confesses he was unsure what his place in Dick's life was now.) Dick is cut with a knife made from the nth metal and see visions of himself from different realities. Villains: Professor Pyg and Doctor Simon Hurt, both from Dick and Damian's time as Batman and Robin.

Nightwing vol 4 # 21 (July 2017). Nightwing and Flash (Wally West) hang out, fights criminals and save each other's lives.

Nightwing vol 4 # 22–25 (August – September 2017). Blockbuster, the villain whose death in Nightwing vol 2 was a huge deal, is suddenly alive and menacing Blüdhaven and Nightwing again. Dick is job-hunting and ends up taking a job as a blackjack dealer to keep an eye on Blockbuster, who had earlier sold him out to Tiger Shark, a villain Dick fought as Batman in Black Mirror. # 24–25 has a pretty badass fight, Nightwing vs a boatload of villains, and he also saves everyone by hotwiring a contraption to expand a bubble that freezes time. Shawn breaks up with Dick.

Nightwing vol 4 # 26–28 (October – November 2017). Spyral. Huntress/Helena Bertinelli, whom Dick met during the Grayson run (New 52 era), turns up. They work together on a case, ending up at the Spiral headquarter, and start a relationship.

Batman vol 3 # 33–35 (December 2017 – January 2018). At Wayne Manor, Alfred tells Dick, Jason, Damian and Duke that Bruce intends to marry Selina while the latter two are on some mission in Khadym. Damian is upset because his mother is in Khadym, and Dick accompanies him there in the following issues. Some nice moments here and there, but I've never cared for Tom King's (the writer) grand Batman arc.

Dark Nights: Metal. Storyline 2017–2018. (including Nightwing # 29) where Batman discovers a Dark Multiverse.

Nightwing vol 4 # 30 – 34 (February 2018). Raptor's Revenge. Raptor gets involved in Nightwing’s fight with Blockbuster. Helena/Huntress breaks up with Dick. # 32 has flashback to Dick and Raptor at the circus and the death of his parents.

Batman vol 3 # 45–47 (June - July 2018). Booster Gold goes back in time to save Bruce's parents as a wedding gift. This completely alters the past, and for some reason, Dick becomes a Batman who fights a city of Jokers with lethal violence. Some amusing wackiness about what has happened to different characters – Selina is a serial killer, Tim has a menial job, and Jason has invented tires that give tire thieves a deadly shock of electricity, but nothing of future importance.

Nightwing vs Hush

Batman: Prelude to the Wedding. Nightwing vs Hush (2018) is a great issue for a Nightwing fan. Nightwing and Superman are taking Batman for a bachelor’s party, but Hush attacks them and he and Dick are transported to another universe (where Hush perishes, which hasn’t stopped him from turning up back in the main universe). Robin vs Ra's al Ghul has a tiny Nightwing as Damian's "good angel" on his shoulder, which is a fun but minor detail.

Batgirl vol 5 # 25. Takes place just after the failed wedding between Bruce and Selina. Barbara needs a friend; Dick takes her to the empty honeymoon suit. They talk as close friends about love, and Dick comes across as quite the romantic. Quite a nice story, in my opinion.

Nightwing vol 4 # 35

Nightwing vol 4 # 35–41 (February – May 2018)The Untouchable. My favourite arc of vol 4 so far, written by Sam Humphries (I'm sure he was supposed to stay longer because he talked in an interview about wanting to bring back Dick's Uncle George from Batman vol 1 # 22, but he only wrote the one arc). Includes some flashbacks to Dick’s time as Robin, and when he was a student post-Robin. He starts a new business, Grayson cross train studio.

Nightwing vol 4 # 42 (June 2018). Enjoyable one-shot. Damian tells his pets about how Dick saved him from capture in Tokyo. They pick up a dragon on the way.

Nightwing vol 4 # 43 (June 2018). Another enjoyable one-shot, with Dick, Damian and Roy Harper/Arsenal, bickering and fighting bad guys.

Nightwing vol 4 # 44–47 (July – October 2018). The Bleeding Edge, a story arc with malevolent virtual reality and the "dark web". Feel free to skip it.

Nightwing/Magilla Gorilla Special # 1 (October 2018). As a crossover with a Hanna-Barbera character, presumably not set in the usual DC universe... But I rather enjoyed it; it was a nice little murder mystery and lots of thinking about the circus and Dick's parents. Though I wouldn't personally rush to the cinema for a movie about The Flying Graysons with gorillas as actors...

Nightwing vol 4 # 48–49 (November 2018). Harm's way, the conclusion of the Dark Web storyline. If you enjoy Nightwing on a motorbike and being a badass fighter, why not? I can't say the story made an impact or had consequences since Dick would spend the following two years (maybe half a year, in-universe) as Ric.

The Murder Club (in Batman: Urban Legends # 19–23, November 2022 – March 2023 ). Martha and Thomas Wayne turn up in the Batcave, apparently taken from the time before they were killed. The story has Bruce, Dick, Damian and Alfred and is good if one like the family feels. (Not sure if any story in Urban Legends is supposed to be "canon" for the current continuity, but time-wise, Damian is dressed in Robin colours, Alfred is alive etc.)

Batman vol 3 # 51 (September 2018). Dick stands in as Batman while Bruce is called for jury duty.

DC's Crime of Passion # 1 (February 2020), has some Dick/Barbara, nothing you can't miss, in my opinion.

Batman vol 3 # 54–55. # 54 goes between flashbacks from when Dick was new in Wayne Manor and apparently doesn't know Bruce is Batman and Nightwing trying to cheer up Batman after Seline dumped him. In # 55, Dick is shot in the head by KG Beast (just another of Tom King's plot points to make Batman as miserable as possible). In Batman # 56-57, Batman hunts down KG Beast. Again, these issues have some pleasant character moments. Still, I'm not a fan of the overall plot or the result for Dick (I've read that Tom King was open to healing Dick magically pretty much straight away, but someone wanted to "take advantage" of the situation...)

Nightwing vol 4 Annual # 2. Partly set just after Dick was shot. Bruce tries to jog his memory by showing him a video of when he was shot, further traumatizing him and leading to him storming out.

Nightwing vol 4 # 50 (December 2018) – 74 (November 2020). Dick lives in Blüdhave as "Ric" and has forgotten everything for approximately the last 15 years. He wants nothing to do with his former family and starts dating Bea Bennett. Meanwhile, four other people use his old suits to go out as vigilantes since the real Nightwing has disappeared. Besides the shot in the head, he is brainwashed (with the help of a magical crystal, if I understood correctly) to help his Talon grandfather William Cobb make him a Talon (he is, for a few issues). The Joker later gets hold of the crystal and makes Dick believe the Joker fostered him and that he is "Dicky boy". He fights the other bats before it's all over...

Nightwing vol 4 # 74 (November 2020). Dick starts to get his memories back.

Batman vol 3 # 99 (November 2020). Bruce gives Dick his Nightwing suit back after two years of suffering (for us readers) with Ric, Talons and Joker War, but not really worth reading for that.

Dark Nights: Death Metal. Reality-shattering, complicated storyline 2020–2021 with lots of evil Batmen. I have read very little of it, but Dick is newly back from "Ric". In Justice League # 53–57 (Doom Metal parts 1–5), he and some others are physically D&E-transformed while fighting. In Dark Nights: Death Metal The Last Stories of the DC Universe, there are some nice Titans moments (also, Batman performs a one-panel "wedding" with Dick and Barbara...)

Nightwing vol 4 # 78 – > (March 2021 and onward) The current run of Nightwing starts (writer Tom Taylor, art mostly Bruno Redondo). After the relaunch Infinite Frontier, parts of Dick's pre-Flashpoint history in Blüdhaven have been restored. He has, for instance, been a cop and lives in the apartment building he bought during Nightwing vol 2. In my opinion, the run is visually great and full of lovely moments between Dick and his friends and family, but it's overly sweet and kind of boring, though many people seem to love the writing too.

Nightwing vol 4 # 78 (2021). Dick adopts a three-legged puppy (Haley/Bitewing) and is told he inherited Alfred's billions (he is currently richer than Bruce). He now lives in the block of flats in Blüdhave that was ostensibly destroyed in Nightwing vol 2.

Nightwing vol 4 # 80. Nightwing's first meeting with the villain Heartless, who steals hearts. That was 2021, and Dick still hasn't stopped Heartless or spent a lot of time chasing him because of so many interruptions.

Nightwing vol 4 # 82

Nightwing vol 4 # 81–82. He discovers he has an older half-sister, Melinda Zucco, conceived before John and Mary were married but brought up as the daughter of Tony Zucco. She is sworn in as the new Mayor of Blüdhaven. A big part of # 82 is flashbacks to the Grayson's and Melinda's backstory. Blockbuster, who should already be dead if what happened in Nightwing vol 2 is canon again, turns up as an adversary again (is later killed in # 94)

Nightwing vol 4 # 83. Dick announces The Alfred Pennyworth Foundation to make Blüdhaven a better place for everyone. The first goal is to ensure that no one lives on the streets a month later, "because it's getting colder".

Without a net. Unpublished tales from the DC vault # 2. (2021) One shot that is possibly supposed to take place in the current continuity; there's at least nothing to contradict it. Dick takes on a task because he feels he's the most qualified to dive 30000 feet from a flying castle (?!) into a lagoon.

Robin vol 3 # 5 (2021). The four former Robins chase after Damian, who has temporarily left Lazarus Island and wants to discuss what's happening. He gives them the slip – except Dick, who catches up with Damian and gives him a birthday present. They talk a bit, and Dick lets him go, telling the others that they will tell Batman "That we trust Damian and have faith in him." So a nice issue if you're looking for a few pages of Dick and Damian interaction.

Nightwing vol 4 # 84–86. Part of the crossover Fear State, where Scarecrow wants to control Gotham City using fear gas.

Titans Academy (2021–2022). I was never interested in picking up the book, but I guess it happened parallel to the Nightwing book until the start of Dark Crisis.

Nightwing Annual 2021 (2022). A tale of two brothers, Dick and Jason, now and then (when Jason was Robin). Dick refuses to believe Jason/Red Hood is killing people again and helps him clear it up, combined with a likeable flashback with Nightwing and JasonRobin.

Nightwing vol 4 # 88 (2022). Dick Grayson is targeted at the ceremony for starting to build Haven. It's kind of a nice issue if you like seeing what a great guy Dick is and his friends rushing to his side. Dick gets a new Nightwing suit made by Mr Terrific.

Nightwing vol 4 # 89, Superman: Son of Ka-El # 9. A team-up with Jon Kent/Superman, starting with a flashback to their first meeting when Jon was getting his powers.

"The Director" (in Batman: Urban Legends # 22-23). A story with Dick and Barbara takes place in Blüdhaven; not really my cup of tea, but readable.

Nightwing vol 4 # 90–91, Dick's building in Blüdhaven is blown up, Barbara is kidnapped, and a master assassain comes after Dick. Guest starring Wally West/The Flash, guest villain KG Beast, the gut who shot Dick back in Batman # 55.

Nightwing vol 4 # 96–97. I think it's fair to say Dick and Barbara are a couple at this stage.

Nightwing vol 3 # 98

Nightwing vol 4 # 98 (2023). Dick gets his own imp from the Fifth Dimension, Nite-Mite. He ships Dick with Starfire but teleports friends and family in to wed Dick and Barbare. (Ok, I thought it was a rather fun issue...) Introducing Olivia, daughter of Blockbuster, who sold her soul to the devil Neron; Neron is on his way to collect her soul. Nightwing & Co save her.

Nightwing vol 4 # 99. Nightwing catches Tony Zucco, who is violating parole with attempted robbery. Melinda changes her last name to Grayson-Lin.

Justice League: Road to Dark Crisis # 1, Dark Crisis on Infinite Earths # 1–7 (2022). An event where the Justice League is presumed dead (Nightwing is sure they will come back), and super criminals attack en masse. Along the way, "the Great Darkness" tries to take Nightwing as its new host, but he fights it off. At the end of the event, the Justice League disbanded. I'm pretty fed up with big events (great art, though), but Dick is a central character, the first legacy hero, and the light in the dark for Batman. It sets him up as an important leader for the superhero community going forward.

Batman vs Robin # 3 (November 2022). Damian is possessed and recruits the four former Robins to fight Batman for him in this lead-up to the event Lazarus Planet. Dick gets the sword of sin, and Batman, waiting for him to attack, thinks, "Hand-to-hand, the toughest of them all". In the end, Batman pushes Alfred (or rather, some kind of replica of Alfred from the afterlife, as a spy for the demon Nezha) on Dick's sword to get him to hesitate so Batman can knock him out. (I should say I've only read this issue of the book. Damian and Bruce fighting got old a long time ago, IMO.)

Nightwing vol 4 # 100. Heartless stages a mass breakout from Blüdhaven's private prison, which is destroyed. Nightwing talks a lot of the escapees into changing sides. The Titans come to help. Guest villain again, KG Beast. Superman and Wonder Woman asks Dick to lead – not the Justice League, which currently is disbanded – but whatever kind of protection he chooses. Dick buys the destroyed prison to build a new Titans tower there. Dick and Bruce have a heartfelt talk by Alfred's grave, though it's debatable if "I love you, Dad" is in character for Dick to say.

Nightwing vol 4 # 101–104. The Titans work together to save Olivia from Neron. Including Dick getting superpowers like that of Superman, when Neron tries to tempt him. Back-up story of Nightwing and Jon/Superman, working a case at a circus.

Titans (2023). The adult Titans are working from Blüdhaven while the Justice League is (probably very temporarily ) disbanded in this new book. It's only been a couple of issues, but I've been enjoying it so far (though I have a hard time with the pairing Beast Boy/Raven, since I know them well from the NTT ear).

Books clearly set outside the main continuity

Future State: Nightwing # 2

Future State: Nightwing # 1–2 (2021), Future State: Gotham (2021–2022) As far as I'm concerned, DC's Future State titles are stories from possible alternate futures that will never come to pass. But it was nice to see Dick written as competent and tinkering with inventions. The Future State stories continued in Future State Gotham, where Dick used the enhancing drug Brane to gain an edge in the fight against the Magistrate and assorted villains and, in the end, sacrificed himself. It didn't seem worth reading, from what I've seen.

Future State: Teen Titans # 1–2. Another possible future book, it’s not as good as the Nightwing version, IMO.

Batman Beyond (2016) vol 6. Dick is the mayor of Blüdhaven and has a daughter who becomes Batwoman in this version of Batman Beyond. To my knowledge, he is in a number of issues starting with # 25.

Batman/Catwoman, a 12-issue Black Label miniseries (2021–2022). Yet another book set in a possible future (or maybe an alternate universe). Dick is the Police Commissioner of Gotham. I haven't read the whole series, but Dick has a minor role.

In the Dark Multiverse, you can see Dick as a Talon, die during the Judas contract or be murdered by Damian if you like. (Tales from the Dark Multiverse: Hush, Teen Titans: The Judas Contract, and Deathstroke (2016) # 50.)

Titans United (2021) and Titans United: Bloodpact (2022) was two limited series that was probably published to lure in readers that liked the Titans tv show, though it wasn't a tie-in. Pretty entertaining Titans stories with different team members. The digital-first Titans: Titans Together book (2020) also didn't connect to what's going on in other books but was all right reading.

– – –

Posted on July 16, 2023. Time will tell if it will get edited/updated in the future.

#Dick Grayson #Nightwing #Robin #Batman #reading guides

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milesfingers · 7 months

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Outlast antagonists headcanons

I'm only considering the ones from the first game, because for the other ones I haven't much to say. I consider Father Martin a morally grey character so he isn't here.

Chris Walker

The little pig plush it's always been his confort toy since he was a child. When he came back from the war Chris used it to mourn himself to cope

If he wasn't killed in the underground laborator and managed to kill everyone there he eventually would stay in the asylum and kill anyone who came near the facility, becoming a sort of urban legend

He really wanted to kill Trager but he was too concentrated on Miles. He barelly know him but he's still very angry with every Murkoff employees to think straight

Chris surely knows everyone in the asylum, judging Father Martin's purpose as ridiculus.

Richard Trager

I actively decided to ignore canon so before the mutation he had grey hair tied in a ponytail and glasses

His dedication to self-learning medicine is at the point that he sewed a ton of cuts himself. Also he told peolpe that he was an actual doctor and convinced them to be analyzed by him

When was a regular employee Trager used to call "kiddo" any coworker younger than him

(I once saw a fanart of this on pinterest) I think Trager is the type of mindfucker that tells kids things like "Don't smoke kids, its dangerous” but then snorts cocaine

The Twins

Not much to say about those guys exept they were sigly abused by their negletful parents who leave scars on their bodies. Later the social services took them and entrusted them to another family, but the damage was already done

They always lived symbiosis, isolatimg themself from the rest of the world, Their adoptive parents tryed to help them, but slowly they gave up. Later the two brothers killed them

They decided to follow Father Martin for basically no reason. They think that being under his protection would have make them untouchable, somehow.

Eddie Gluskin

I am a horrible person and I hc his birthday as February 14th

While he was basically a serial killer, I like to think that he worked in a wedding dress shop. At some point of his life he dropped school and the owner of that shop thaught him how to sew and pack clothes. Eddie could have stabilized himself, but he was already too deranged

Eddie hates women that much because his mother always knew what his father and uncle done to him and when they get to prison she blames him for taking her husband away from her

I actually think he would be a decent father. Of course he's a borderline psychopath and would rise his child in a sick environment full of torture and murder, but I don't think he would ever hurt them (intentionally, at least)

Frank Manera

I do think he murdered his family and cooked them after years of instabiliy

When he went to the Mount Massive he was put in the hands of a pretty sadistic guard who basically starved him in order to "punish him in the proper way"

His hair turned gray due to the stress of captivity

Actually he managed to not being catch by the SWAT but later he died for some kind of diase because of eating raw human meat

Jeremy Blaire

This man screams daddy issues. Like, have y'all present the song "Are you satisfied?" by Marina? Yeah, that's Jer.

While he was friend with Trager he used to be very embarassed of him and his chaoticity. They went on golf club like any bored rich but Jer constantly avoied Trager at parties

Actually treats like shit EVERY employee that's not his superior, but he really targeted Waylon more than anyone. Like one time he challenged him to arm wrestling and kept him busy for an hour and a half to make him understand how a real man behaves

Example of a cisgender straight white male, bye

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scary-grace · 8 months

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Love Like Ghosts - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever.

But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble.

Cross-posted to Ao3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 1

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. Rent in the city you live in is so goddamn fucking high that it was either keep living with the worst roommates in existence or find a way out to the suburbs. But the suburbs are wall-to-wall McMansions, so far out of your price range that calling it a bad joke would be an insult to both concepts. All except this one single neighborhood. And within this one single neighborhood, this one single house.

You knew there had to be a reason it hadn’t sold. You’re not an idiot. So you did your research, like the law student you wanted to be before your loans from undergrad kicked in, and found absolutely nothing. No murders in the house’s history. No accidental deaths. No urban legends about curses and creepy children living in the walls. You even went so far as to track down a previous owner, who was perfectly nice, and perfectly willing to talk about the three weeks he spent living there before he sold it and ran for the hills.

No, he said, he didn’t hear anything. Or see anything. No strange accidents or unstable floorboards. There were no strange bumps in the night or objects left out of place. Just a constant, ever-present feeling that he was being watched.

Carbon monoxide leak, maybe. When the pre-purchase inspection happened, you made them check that twice. And for toxic mold. But there was nothing. Just an old house in a too-big lot at the end of a quiet street, hemmed in by the wetlands on three sides. A total steal. You couldn’t believe that no one had bought it.

People come close, your realtor told you on your last walk-through. One time I had a lady come all the way to the end of escrow before she backed out.

Why’d she back out? you asked idly. Your realtor made a face. She didn’t say?

Oh, she said all right. Said something was wrong. That it didn’t like her. The realtor scoffed. It doesn’t like or not like anybody. It’s a house.

He said that, but you could tell he didn’t believe it, and because of that, you asked him if you could finish the walkthrough alone. He left reluctantly, clearly concerned that you were going to back out of the sale, too. You weren’t planning on it. You just wanted to see if there was something you were missing, if everybody else who hadn’t bought this house had picked up on something you didn’t. You walked from room to room, picturing where you’d eat, where you’d sleep, where you’d set up your office when you finally went to law school and got licensed and set up your own practice. You didn’t feel anything wrong, even when you sat down in front of the fireplace and played devil’s advocate one last time, trying to talk yourself out of signing the papers. It was just a house. Your house.

When you came down the front steps, your realtor was leaning against his car, looking more than a little dejected. His face fell when he saw you coming. Change your mind?

You shook your head. Give me the papers, you said. And I’ll need a pen.

Moving in took you one weekend. Less, even. Living in tiny apartments through college and your first few years on the job didn’t give you much room to accumulate pointless stuff, as much as you might have liked gathering little trinkets as a kid. It took you one and a half trips to move all the important stuff, and then it was just you yourself. You, yourself, and your dog.

Looking back, you definitely should have brought Phantom with you to check things out before you signed the papers. In horror movies, dogs are always the first ones to figure things out. But when you hooked up Phantom’s leash and let her out of the car to sniff around, she didn’t react at all beyond how dogs usually react to arriving in a new place – sniffing everything, picking up everything in her mouth, yanking at the leash until you let her tow you around the front yard. When she clambered up the steps to flop down on the porch, you breathed a sigh of relief. Phantom liked it here. You liked it, too.

And you still like it, three and a half weeks after you moved in. In fact, you think you might like it more than you did when you moved in. That’s not a surprise, really – your main criteria in buying a house was that it was a house, and not an apartment you have to share. Sure, your commute in to work sucks now, but it’s worth it when you get to come home to somewhere quiet. No terrible music. No terrible perfume or makeup smears on the bathroom counter. No rotting food in the fridge or moldy dishes in the sink. Nobody’s having very loud, very kinky sex in the room next to yours all night, because there’s no room next to yours – and there’s nobody in your house but you. You sort of wish you’d done the home ownership thing a while ago. It would have saved you a lot of stress.

“It’s kind of perfect, actually,” you say to your friend over FaceTime. “Really perfect. I wish you could come see it.”

“Yeah, me too. But you know how it is. Loans.”

“Loans,” you agree. “The downpayment on this place basically cleaned me out. If anything goes wrong I’m going to have to start selling my organs.”

Your friend laughs. “Start with plasma. You can replace that easier.”

“Or feet pics. I don’t have to replace those at all.”

She laughs, and so do you, and the sound echoes through your house. “Listen to that,” your friend marvels. “It must be dead quiet there.”

Quiet, sure – but over the past three weeks, you’ve noticed that the house feels alive even when nobody’s making noise on purpose. You can hear Phantom’s toenails clicking on the floor in the living room and remind yourself to get a rug. And a couch. You’re doing laundry, and the sound it makes is comforting. The hum of the fridge is, too. “I don’t mind,” you say. “I like it here. The only problem is the dust.”

The house has been empty for years by now, so it makes sense that there’s a lot of dust. You knew that going in, and you’re still slightly horrified at the clouds that come up every time you touch a surface that you haven’t dusted earlier that day. “We’ll just call you Cinderella,” your friend jokes, and you scowl. “Or not. Sheesh, lighten up. And throw a housewarming party! Get some real noise in there.”

“We’ll see,” you say. The idea of letting people you work with know where you live is frankly upsetting. And so is this conversation, honestly. You don’t know where the frustration’s coming from, but you’ve got to get off the phone. “I have to go. Phantom’s eating something and I need to fish it out. Love you.”

“Love y-”

You end the call and drop your phone screen-down on the table. The frustration you felt before is ebbing already, and with it comes relief – and confusion. You know you’ve got a bit of a temper, but you never let it out on friends, and you keep it hidden at work. Even at home you’re careful. You got Phantom from a rescue, and too much banging around or sharp words stresses her out. So why did you get so close there? Is the fairytale thing really that upsetting? Were you really that pissed at the idea of letting someone else in your house? Why?

Because it’s yours. It’s your place, where you don’t have to make excuses for anything you’re doing, where you can do whatever you want. God knows you worked hard to be able to have this place. You’re going to enjoy it the way you want to enjoy it. Nobody else gets a say.

The weird mood clings to you through the afternoon and into the evening. Of course it’s a Sunday, which means you’ve burned through the last of your weekend being mad at a friend over nothing. You could keep moping, or you could try to get out of it. You pick door number two and head out to the back porch with Phantom.

You didn’t pay much attention to the yard when you bought the house. You were more interested in the bigger stuff, like making sure it wasn’t haunted or cursed. But the yard is – nice. Or it will be nice, once you get your shit together and start pulling weeds. You got rid of anything that might make Phantom sick, but you’ve let everything else run wild, and the blackberry bushes along the border to the wetlands grow so high you can’t even see the fence. You did check and make sure there was a fence, of course. Phantom is pretty docile, but it’s hard to trust the judgment of a dog who chews on her own feet and sleeps upside down.

She looks like she’s having fun, though. She’s doing that thing dogs do, where they clearly want to take off at high speed but can’t decide which direction to go. Maybe you should help her out. You pick up her ball out of her toybox and wave it to get her attention. “Come on, Phantom! Go get it! Get your ball!”

She starts running before you’ve even thrown it, and you call her back, laughing. “Come here, you. I’ve still got it. Wait –”

She prances in place, ears pricked and tail wagging. “Wait – okay, go! Go get it!”

You chuck the ball and she takes off after it at full speed, catching it on the run and depositing it back at your feet covered in grass and slime. You remind yourself that slime is part of having a dog. You pick it up and throw it again, and again. On the third throw, Phantom stops mid-chase and freezes in the middle of the yard.

You’ve never seen her do that before. “Phantom,” you say, but she doesn’t turn. “Phantom, leave it. Come here.”

She doesn’t move. She whines, cowers, wiggles a few steps backwards – and then the biggest coyote you’ve ever seen springs out of the darkness, jaws wide open and ready to close on Phantom’s throat.

Phantom turns and bolts, but she’s not fast enough. Its jaws close on her hind leg and she howls. “No,” you shout, your voice somehow strident and shrill at the same time. You pick up the nearest thing you can find – your phone, totally useless – and bounce it off the coyote’s head. It snarls and lets go of Phantom, who limps back to your side, making the worst sounds you’ve ever heard in your life. You can’t help but try to calm her, even as the coyote prowls closer, even as you watch your dog’s blood drip from its teeth. “Sweet baby. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”

The coyote’s going to bite you. You’re going to live with that. But while it’s biting you, you can hurt it as much as possible. You’re bigger. You have body weight and hands and a dog you have to protect, and so what if the fucker looks absolutely rabid? There’s a shot for that. They can probably give it to you at the emergency vet when you take Phantom in. The coyote sinks into a crouch, preparing to lunge. You get your feet under you and try to calm the racing of your heart. The coyote snarls, leaps, and –

And. You don’t know how to process what you’re seeing, so you’re stuck on and. And the coyote is poised in midair, thrashing and snarling at something that’s holding it in place with all four of its paws off the ground. And it stays suspended there just long enough for you to blink a few times, for you to realize that what you’re looking at is real. And then its neck breaks with a hideous snap, so hard that its head is nearly torn off, and its body drops to the ground at your feet.

You stagger back, almost tripping on Phantom – and then you scoop her up in your arms, even though she’s not anywhere close to being carryable long-term. It’s the only way to be safe as you back up the porch stairs, as you both collapse just in front of the back door. Something just happened. Your dog’s leg is bleeding and your heart is pounding and something just happened. What was it?

Something broke the coyote’s neck. That didn’t just happen on its own. Something killed the coyote, fast and brutal but not fast enough that you didn’t see fear flash in its eyes when it realized there was no way out. It wasn’t another animal that did that, and there was nobody in your yard but you. This isn’t the kind of thing that happens when you move into a nice, normal house. This is the kind of thing that happens when your house is haunted. And whatever’s haunting your house can snap necks with its bare hands.

But not your neck, you realize. Not your neck, and not Phantom’s. Whatever’s haunting your house can kill things, but it hasn’t killed you or your dog, in spite of having all kinds of opportunities to do so. In fact, this is the first time anything haunted has happened in your house at all, and it paid off for you, big-time. Maybe whatever’s in your house is –

Friendly is not a word you’re going to use when there’s a sort of mutilated, completely dead body in your yard. But you think you can safely call whatever it is ‘not hostile’, at least not to you. And if it’s not being hostile to you, you should be friendly in response. “I don’t know who did that,” you say to your empty yard. “But whoever it was, thank you.”

You don’t wait for a response. Your dog is hurt, and you have to get her to the vet, and for the rest of the night you don’t think about what happened at all. But the next morning, when you go out to chuck the dead coyote over the fence and patch up whatever hole it got in through, the coyote is gone. The only evidence that anything happened at all are a few drops of Phantom’s blood dried on the ground, and a spot of dry, dead grass that was definitely alive last night.

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it, and when you talked to the previous owner, it’s not like he didn’t warn you. But what he warned you about isn’t quite what’s happening to you. The previous owner, a perfectly nice guy named Shirakumo, told you that he spent his entire three weeks here feeling like he was under a microscope. Like it was trying to make up its mind about me, he said. I decided I didn’t want to be here when it figured it out.

You’re pretty sure whatever’s in the house has made up its mind about you. At least enough to decide that between you and the coyote, it would rather keep you around. So unlike Shirakumo, you don’t feel like you’re being watched. You just feel like you’re not alone.

It’s a weird distinction, but it’s undeniably there. There’s something in here with you, something unseen, and if it was watching you, you’d know. It isn’t watching you. It’s doing whatever things it does, and you’re doing the kind of things you do, just coexisting side by side in your new house. It’s there when you leave and it’s there when you come home, just like Phantom is, and Phantom doesn’t seem to mind it. More than a few times, you’ve caught her play-bowing and wagging her tail at empty space. If she was nervous about it, you’d be nervous, too – but dogs always know when a house is haunted in horror movies, and Phantom’s not acting scared. But your house is still haunted. Maybe it’s just not haunted like that.

You tell yourself to just live with it, but it starts getting weird after a little while. If someone was here in person, you’d talk to them, include them in the silly questions you ask Phantom about whether the two of you should get takeout for dinner instead of cooking and whether or not she is in fact the bestest girl in the whole wide world. Maybe the thing in the house is waiting for you to talk to it, and getting upset that you’re not. This is a good time for you to remind yourself, like you do every so often, that the thing in your house isn’t friendly just because it’s not hostile to you, and it can still snap necks with its bare hands. It’s in your best interest to keep it – not hostile.

You keep telling yourself to talk to it, and you keep chickening out for a whole week and a half. Then you’re in the middle of emptying the dishwasher and hit your head on an open cabinet door hard enough that you see stars. Then you stumble backwards and land flat on your ass on the kitchen tiles. “Fuck,” you say, with feeling, and Phantom comes running. “Sorry, sweetie. I’m fine. I’m just a dumbass.”

You’re conscious of the thing in your house, of the fact that it’s here, just like always. It’s not watching you, but if it was, what would it say about this little scene? A response flies into your head, and you say it before you can think of whether or not it’s the smart thing to do. “Yeah, keep laughing. The first time this happens to you I’m going to laugh my ass off.”

There’s no response, but you weren’t expecting one. You should probably have made your opening statement to the ghost a little friendlier. But your neck hasn’t snapped yet, so you pick yourself up off the floor, close the cabinet so you won’t hit your head again and kick off round two of this embarrassment, and get back to work.

Attempt one on talking to the ghost was a failure, but you have a rule about trying things at least three times before you give up, so you try again. This time you come home from work, greet Phantom like always, and then slowly, deliberately turn to face the totally empty patch of air in the hallway. “Hi,” you say. “I’m home.”

Nothing then, either, and if you’d started the sentence with “honey” instead of “hi” you’d have sounded exactly like your dad. You’ve always thought that the way characters in movies deal with their haunted houses is cringe. Yours is a different kind of cringe. Possibly a worse kind of cringe. But when you turn away from the empty air, your neck stays unbroken, and that sense of company, of presence, doesn’t fade. If nothing else, you’re not pissing it off.

To be clear, you don’t talk to your house all the time. You don’t feel like talking all the time. But when you do, you start speaking out loud, and soon it becomes a habit. It might be an embarrassing habit, but it’s not the worst thing in the world. And talking to it instead of tiptoeing around it makes you feel a little better about the situation. Less like you’re being haunted. More like you’re at home.

Your coworkers find out that you moved after two months. You’re not sure how, because you definitely didn’t tell them, but you did have to tell HR to start sending your pay stubs to a new address. Somebody there must have spilled the beans, and as pissed as you are, there’s nothing you can do about it now. Just like there’s nothing you can do about the fact that half your coworkers have invited themselves over for an impromptu housewarming party. Tonight.

“This is stupid,” you complain as you wipe down every flat surface on the first floor, trying to get as much of the ever-present dust up as possible. “I see them enough at work. The whole point of working is so I can afford to spend time not at work.”

Phantom huffs a little bit. She’s mostly friendly, but big groups bother her, especially big groups with too many loud guys. “I would never just invite myself over to someone’s house,” you continue. Back in the day you’d have called a friend to complain. Now you just do it out loud. “How the hell am I going to get them to leave? They’re not going to want to leave. This place is perfect.”

You pause for a second, transfixed with horror at the idea of having to kick your coworkers out. “This sucks. Think it’s too l ate for me to fake my own death?” As soon as you say that, you wish you hadn’t. You don’t want the thing in your house to offer to help. “I can’t do that. If I don’t have a job, I don’t have a mortgage payment, and I need a mortgage payment so I can keep my house.”

You finish dusting, then dig out a baby gate from when Phantom was still potty-training and prop it across the stairs. You don’t want anybody thinking it’s okay to go upstairs. The doorbell rings just as you’re straightening up. Coworkers. You grit your teeth, then paste on a smile and go to open the front door. “Hi. Go ahead and invite yourselves in.”

If you’re going to be fair to your coworkers – and you feel like you have to be, because otherwise you might kill them and wind up with a whole bunch of ghosts haunting your house – not all of them are bad. They don’t have to be bad for you to not want them in your house. Most of them just have irritating habits, like clearing their throats on every other word or laughing too loudly at their own bad jokes. There’s only one or two you really don’t like – they pick on your clothes and the way you do your hair, or steal tea bags from the secret stash you keep in your filing cabinet. Both of them are here, and their presence puts you in an even worse mood than you already were.

The only person you’d actually hang out with after work is Mr. Yagi, but he’s your direct supervisor and also sort of old, which means you can’t be friends with him. He’s here, too, and he seems like he’s trying to rein everybody in. You see him stop one of your coworkers from hopping the baby gate and going upstairs and give him a grateful look. He smiles back. Then he startles, coughs into his handkerchief, and stumbles back against the wall.

You start towards him, concerned, but midway there someone slings an arm around your shoulders and stops you in your tracks. “Honey,” Nakayama slurs, flopping most of her weight onto you, “your house’s vibes are fuck awful.”

You didn’t provide alcohol, but it looks like your coworkers brought their own. You shrug her arm off. “Wow. I’m so glad I asked your opinion when I asked you to come over.”

“You didn’t ask,” Nakayama says, confused. You raise your eyebrows, waiting for the penny to drop. It doesn’t drop. Instead a full-body shiver overtakes her, and she wraps her arms around herself like she’s shielding her body from something or trying to keep warm. “Don’t you feel that? It’s – male – male-eh –”

She thinks your ghost is a man. You’re not even sure your ghost is a ghost. “Malevolent,” she says finally. Oh. “It doesn’t want me here.”

“Maybe that’s because I don’t want you here,” you say, and Nakayama laughs. She thinks you’re joking. Mr. Yagi, who’s snuck up alongside you, knows you aren’t. “If the vibes in here are so bad, go check out the back porch. I fixed the hole in the fence, so there shouldn’t be any more coyotes.”

“Coyotes?” Mr. Yagi asks worriedly as Nakayama wanders off through the house. “Is that how Phantom was hurt?”

“Yeah.” You were worried the incident would put Phantom off the backyard, but she loves it just as much as ever. You have a feeling that’s got something to do with the thing in the house. “Like I said, I fixed the hole. What do you think of the house?”

You haven’t asked that question of anybody else, but Mr. Yagi’s opinion is one you’re interested in. “It’s quite – nice,” he says. “Very – lively.”

The pauses in his speech make you wonder if he’s holding in a coughing fit. He has some kind of lung illness. You’re not sure what it is. “Are you okay?”

“Your house.” Mr. Yagi coughs. “I can see why you purchased it. I can see that you feel comfortable and at home here. And at the same time, I understand Miss Nakayama’s use of the word “malevolent”. Something does not want us here.”

“Maybe it’s just me. I didn’t exactly invite people over.”

“I’m very familiar with your demeanor when dealing with a situation you don’t like,” Mr. Yagi says, and chuckles. He sobers up a few seconds later. “This darkness is orders beyond what you could emit. I don’t know how you live with it. It could drive a person mad.”

If this was somebody else, you’d gaslight the hell out of them. But you like Mr. Yagi, and liking him makes you honest. “I talked to people who’ve owned this place before. They said they felt like you do, or like they’re being watched. But I’ve never felt like that here. Watched over, maybe.”

“Watched over?”

You can’t tell him about the coyote. You just – can’t. “Maybe I’m imagining it and I just like the quiet. I believe you about the vibes. I just don’t feel them.”

“I see,” Mr. Yagi says. He looks troubled. You don’t want him to look like that. You don’t want to be worried about this. “Perhaps it’s just an old man’s musings, my dear. You have a lovely home. You should enjoy it.”

There’s a shriek from outside, and you barely manage to mumble an apology to Mr. Yagi before running to investigate. One of your coworkers is freaking out on the back porch, and frantically stubbing out a cigarette in the bargain. You’ve been patient, but the sight of the cigarette pushes you over the edge. “I thought I told you not to smoke here!”

“There was a thing!” Todoroki gestures frantically towards the other end of the porch. “I saw it. Right there. In the smoke –”

“Use your words,” you say. Something’s uncurling in the pit of your stomach, something you’re not all that eager to put a name on. “What did you see in the smoke of the cigarette you weren’t supposed to light up on my back porch?”

“A hand,” Todoroki says. “I saw a hand reaching for me.”

“Maybe it’s your guilty conscience,” you say. Todoroki is close enough that you can smell alcohol mixed in with the smoke on his breath. “Coming after you for inviting yourself to my house and breaking my rules.”

“Your rules are a little strict.” Nakayama slings her arm around your shoulders again. “Don’t you think?”

“No,” you say, sharper than you should be. “I think you don’t know how to listen!”

“Easy there.” Mr. Yagi slides into the conversation sideways. “Todoroki, our hostess did request no smoking. Very politely. And Nakayama, I’m sure you know that hosting an event can be stressful! Let’s go inside and give our hostess a moment to herself, all right?”

Mr. Yagi is hard to say no to, and Todoroki is eager to get off the porch anyway. Nakayama follows him in, and then you’re alone, seething with an emotion you’re finally forced to name: Jealousy. “Come on,” you say out loud, once you’re sure no one else could possibly be listening. “Of all the people you could show yourself to, you picked him?”

There’s no answer, of course. There never is, and after a while, you’ve got no choice but to go back inside and deal with all your mostly-unwanted guests. The bad vibes are infecting the rest of the party, and Todoroki isn’t being shy about whatever he thinks he saw on the porch. Pretty soon everyone is ready to leave. You think Mr. Yagi will be out the door along with everybody else at high speed, but instead he gathers everybody just inside the door for a group picture. “To commemorate the evening,” he says, but you get the sense he’s not telling the truth. Not all of it, anyway. “Everyone smile!”

Everybody smiles, you included – and then everybody scatters, including a few who are probably too tipsy to be driving. You chase after them, make sure everybody who’s drunk is riding home rather than driving themselves, and slink back inside, tired and frustrated. Your house is messier than you like it, your boss thinks you’re living in some kind of hell dimension, and the thing in your house showed itself to one of your dumbass coworkers and not to you. This evening has sucked.

Your phone pings with a message from Mr. Yagi. He’s texted you the photo he took of the group without comment, and when you see it, you see instantly why he wanted a picture in the first place. There are your coworkers, smiling with varying degrees of discomfort. There’s you, smiling because you’ll have the house to yourself again soon. And there’s the shapeless shadow, defying the light beaming directly onto it, hovering just over your shoulder.

There’s something in your house. You know that now for sure. It shows up as a shadow in pictures, but Todoroki saw it as a hand. Other people feel very differently about it than you do – or it makes them feel differently about it than you do. That’s the only explanation you can think of for why every person who’s set foot in the house has had a borderline allergic reaction to it, except you. There’s nothing special about you. For whatever reason, the thing in the house hates you less than it hates everybody else. Why? And why, if it hates you less than everybody else, did it show itself to Todoroki instead of you?

You’ve been thinking about it for a week. You’re thinking about it so hard that you’ve fucked up installing your front porch swing twice, and so hard that you don’t hear a kid calling out to you from the sidewalk. “Hey! Hey, you! Are you the new neighbor?”

The question snaps you out of your fog. You look up and find a girl who looks like she’s about twelve hovering at the end of the path leading up to your door, taking tentative steps over and then pulling her foot back. She’s holding a foil-covered plate in her hands. Behind her there’s an older guy, maybe in his late teens or early twenties. You’re older than him, but not by much. “Hi,” he says awkwardly. “I told Himiko not to shout. But shouting is so fun!”

His demeanor shifted completely between the first sentence and the second. “You’re Himiko,” you say to the girl, and she grins. Even from this distance, you can see that her teeth are oddly sharp. You turn to the older guy. “And you are?”

“This is my big brother Jin!” Himiko gives him a glowing look, then turns her attention back to you. “Now you tell me your name! That’s what people do!”

“It sure is,” you say, bewildered, and you make your introduction. Then you feel weird shouting at them from the porch, so you make your way down to the edge of the yard, still holding a screwdriver. “So you all are my neighbors?”

“Yes! The pink house just that way!” Himiko points it out. “We live there with Jin’s mom and his brothers and sisters!”

“Sorry it took us so long to introduce ourselves,” Jin says. Then that demeanor switch happens again. “We didn’t want to grace you with our presence until we were sure you wouldn’t cut and run!”

“Everybody leaves,” Himiko says, swinging on your front gate. “We made you cookies to say hi!”

“They’re the best cookies in the world,” Jin says, and Himiko sneaks in past the gate. “Don’t eat them. She still doesn’t know how taste buds work.”

That might be the weirdest thing they’ve said to you so far. “Oh.”

“Himiko, come back,” Jin calls, looking past you. “They didn’t invite us in.”

“I know! But – ooh.” Himiko breaks off midsentence with a shiver. Not the same kind of shiver as you saw from Nakayama when she was here, like it’s too cold – the kind you’d do if a spider walked across the back of your neck. “I just want to meet you! Jeez, calm down!”

“I’m calm,” you say.

“She doesn’t mean you,” Jin says, and a chill runs down your spine. “Himiko, come back!”

Himiko skips down the path back to the gate and steps through. “You should come visit us at our house,” she announces. “He doesn’t want us here.”

He. “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t like to share,” Himiko says. She laughs, high and almost shrill. “I don’t need more people. I have as many people as I want! I have Jin and Jin’s mom and Jin’s sister and Jin’s brother –”

She’s not talking to you. She’s looking back at the house. “Who’s he?” you ask, and she smiles at you. “I’m not joking. I really want to know.”

“You know,” Himiko says. “Or you will, anyway. You’re his.”

“Excuse me?” Something inside you rebels at the thought. “It’s my house.”

“Yeah,” Jin agrees. Finally – a voice of reason. Or not, because what he says next makes everything worse. “You wouldn’t have kept it if he hadn’t let you.”

Himiko nods importantly, still smiling. Then she looks at you, and – “Um, did you just –”

“Just what?” Himiko asks, but you shake your head. There’s no way you saw what you think you saw. There’s no way her pupils closed vertically, almost disappearing, and opened again – like a blink, but not a blink, because eyes aren’t supposed to do that. “Come visit us, then! Everybody in the neighborhood wants to meet you!”

She pushes the plate of cookies into your hands and goes skipping off down the sidewalk. Jin gives an apologetic shrug, followed by a hyperenthusiastic wave goodbye, and follows her, leaving you standing just inside your front gate with a plate of cookies you’re now eighty percent sure are poisoned and even less of an idea about what’s going on than you had before. You decide, with a skill at compartmentalization that you’ve been honing since you moved in, to table it until you’ve set up your porch swing.

But after the swing’s up, you’re hungry. So hungry, in fact, that you pry up the foil on the plate and take a look at the cookies Jin and Himiko brought over. They look suspect. So suspect that you wouldn’t risk eating them unless you were starving, and even then you might try chewing off your own arm first. It’s too bad. You really could have gone for a cookie right about now.

But you’re an adult, and you have your own house, and a decent amount of ingredients in your pantry. Maybe cookies aren’t as out of reach as you thought they were.

One quick shower later, you’re in the kitchen, measuring out ingredients for your favorite cookie recipe. Back in the day you’d play music, or call somebody. Now you either talk to Phantom, talk to the thing in the house, or both. But Phantom is napping on the tiles on the front hall – her favorite spot on hot days, even though you have air conditioning and you like to use it. That’s a good thing. You and the thing in your house need to have a talk.

“You’ve got an attitude problem, huh?” Your opening lines with the thing in your house are never as polite as they probably should be. “I’m fine with you scaring my coworkers. I’m pretty sure I thanked you for that one. But those were my neighbors. I have to live with them. Or near them. And they seemed – nice.”

It gets quiet after that. Sometimes you can use the silence to convince yourself that the ghost is answering, just not in a way you’re able to hear. Sometimes you even imagine what the ghost is saying. Today is one of those days. “Okay, fine. They were weird. I still have to live with them.” But you have to live with the ghost, too, and the ghost apparently has some weird ideas about what’s going on here. “And while we’re talking about it, what’s this possessive shit? You think you own me? You’ve talked more to my twelve-year-old neighbor than you have to me, so you’ve got a lot of nerve talking about me like I belong to you.”

You’ve got no idea what the ghost would say in response to that, and you have to get out your dry ingredients. You head to the pantry and dig out what’s left of your flour, noting that you’ve got a new bag waiting, and go back to the counter. Except something happens to you midway there. You step into a cold spot, colder than anything you’ve ever felt in your life, and your hands go nerveless and numb like you’ve been flash-frozen. The bag of flour drops from your hands and splits open on the floor, letting up a puff of flour that climbs high into the air like a mushroom cloud. Higher than it should. But that’s not what you’re looking at. You’re looking at the two clean spots on the flour-coated floor, directly in front of you. Two clean spots in the shape of a pair of feet.

They’re not children’s footprints. Whatever’s in your house isn’t a child like Himiko – it’s an adult, like you, and it’s standing really close to you. Your eyes are drawn almost inexorably upwards through the already-dissipating cloud of flour. You’re looking too late. You almost miss it. But before the flour falls completely back to the floor, you see the outline of a torso, the slope of a shoulder. The length of an arm. And the shape of one hand, thumb and forefinger poised to flick against your forehead.

You react before you can think about it. “What are you, twelve?” You wave your hand through the air, trying to dissipate the rest of the cloud, resolutely ignoring the way you obliterate the shoulder, the torso. “Learn some manners.”

The cloud vanishes, and the figure with it. You could almost believe it had never happened at all, except for the pair of clean footprints on your otherwise flour-covered floor.

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

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dwellordream · 18 days

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Books Recs of 2024

The Tainted Cup by Robert Jackson Bennett. Mystery/fantasy centered around Din, a young assistant investigator assigned to help an eccentric and infamous detective, Ana Dolabra, solve a series of murders. Din is an engraver, his brain altered so he has a photographic memory. However, no one is quite sure how he got his current position, since he failed every single one of his final exams except the combat portion. Ana is an exceedingly odd woman who refuses to go to any crime scene in person and often performs mad science experiments in her spare time. As Din struggles to keep up with the case, which revolves around a bioweapon being unleashed on a series of the empire's best engineers, he also worries what will happen when Ana finally uncovers his secrets.

Highfire by Eoin Colfer. Urban fantasy (very comedic fantasy) about a dragon called Vern (short for Wyvern), who teams up with a juvenile delinquent named Squib (real name Everett Moreau) to take down a corrupt sheriff who is plaguing the Lousiana bayou. Vern is a very small (seven feet long) dragon who is the last of his kind (as far as he knows). When he is spotted by a local troubled teen, his first instinct is to hunt Squib down and kill him, but he quickly realizes the two of them have a common enemy- the murderous sheriff who is running drugs through their territory.

The Last Tale of the Flower Bride by Roshani Chokshi. Magical realism about a romantic-minded art historian who is swept off his feet by a mysterious and charming heiress. After a whirlwind courtship, the happy couple return to her childhood home; a Gothic manor on a lonely island. The more time our narrator spends around his wife's past, the more questions are raised- increasingly sinister ones about who she is and what exactly she is capable of. Once upon a time, she was best friends with an equally odd and dreamy little girl named Indigo. But no one has seen Indigo for many years now- and the Flower Bride may be behind her disappearance.

Chlorine by Jade Song. Horror/magical realism. Since childhood, Ren's entire identity has been wrapped up in swimming. If she can be strong enough, fast enough, special enough, success is sure to come her way. As the end of high school approaches, Ren's passion for swimming becomes less about her future, and more about past legends of mermaids and sirens dragging sailors into the deep. School, friends, and her parents' expectations all fall away- Ren will make her home in the water, no matter what she has to do.

We Are Not Like Them by Christine Pride & Jo Piazza. Realistic fiction. Jen and Riley have been best friends for as long as they can remember, despite their vastly different childhoods. Riley is from a middle class Black family; Jen was raised by an impoverished white single mother. After twenty years of doing almost everything together, their lives are at a crossroads- Riley is a news anchor about to take Philadelphia by storm, while Jen is expecting her first child with her police officer husband. When Jen's husband is involved in the murder of a Black teenage boy by a fellow officer, Riley finds herself expected to cover the story- and Jen finds herself expected to answer for her husband's actions- and her own beliefs about what racism looks like.

Queenpin by Megan Abbott. Crime thriller/noir. Our nameless heroine lives a mousy existence working as a bookkeeper for a rundown local night club, but her life is turned upside down when the infamous Gloria Denton, a gun moll and smuggler, takes her under her wing. Gloria transforms her young protege from a timid girl to a sophisticated, cunning woman capable of handling gangsters, conmen, thieves, and bookies, but when she falls for the wrong man, her relationship with Gloria is strained, and they must decide just how far they can trust one another.

Everyone Knows Your Mother is a Witch by Rivka Galchen. Historical fiction. Based on the real life trial of Katharina Kepler, mother of the famed Johannes Kepler, Imperial Mathematician to the Holy Roman Empire. Katharina is a busybody, a domineering and devilishly clever woman with a particular talent for healing. She is also a fiercely loyal mother to her adult children, but when an old neighborhood grudge flares into accusations of poison and witchcraft, Katharina is determined not to meekly confess and beg pardon. The more she lashes out at her neighbors and the authorities, the more charges begin to pile up against her- despite her son's desperate attempts to save her from torture and execution.

Bury Me Deep by Megan Abbott. Crime thriller/noir. Based on a real life murder case in 1931 Phoenix Arizona. Naive and sheltered Marion Seeley is deposited in Phoenix by her disgraced doctor husband, who is forced to take a job with a mining company in South America after his medical license is revoked. Marion befriends the vivacious Louise and Ginny, two fellow nurses, who introduce her to the underground party scene in Phoenix. Politicians and businessmen flock to the secret parties held by them, and it's a quick way to make money on the side. Drawn in by the luxury and thrills, Marion falls in love with Joe Lanigan, a powerful local politician, but as their affair intensifies, her friendship with the other women fractures, culminating in a gruesome crime.

#literature #recommendations

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blood-injections · 8 months

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Ooookay killjoy suitehearts masterpost here we go, been putting this together for a while now since everyone started posting their suitehearts stuff..

So I kinda have two versions of stories for them, i mean thats the great thing about writing and headcanons is that they can varie from story to story but anyway! this is like their main story and what I'll write if I ever get to writing a story focused on them, and varients of it will be similar with some like little changes if theyre more like background characters in something. But the two versions rn are just this main one and a slightly differing one for some other stuff in my drafts bc this main one is focused in the city bc the suitehearts are just such an underground rebel crew to me versus loud and proud killjoys in the desert, while the variation story is one where they are in the desert, or at least theyre like split between the city and desert, you'll see.

Some like basics before I get into their individual stuff, yeah they have, well mostly have their crazy looks, they're a crew of theater kids lol, not really they just have a sense of whimsy. I'll post art of each of my designs for them eventually their outfits arent as crazy because they have to like be able to fight and run and shit in them, but they stick with the colors and facepaint, because facepaint throws off facial recognition scanners so that the cameras cant track them, so they might as well have fun with it, and they turn it into part of their killjoyesque personas, the facepaint becomes them, marks them as crew and their personas kind of become characters in urban legends that everyone in the citys heard of.

ANYWAY

Dr. Benzedrine

Dr. Benzedrine? More like Mr. Medical Malpractice. Kidding. Mostly. He grew up in a wealthy family with parents that were good citizens and he always wanted to be a scientist or a doctor, to help people, and he was smart and they had money, so he was able to get into school and be just that. To learn all about science and medications and surgery and over the years he moved up the ranks, until he was one of the best surgeons in the city, and one thing about doctors, especially surgeons is that they have to be clear minded, not drugged up and foggy headed. And one thing about being good, about being a respected professional? Its like being an exterminator, you're never off the hook but the people in charge? They dont care as much about the state of your head, as long as you're loyal. So Benzedrine has benefits, and one of them is getting clean, of the decidedly mind altering stuff at least. But with clarity of mind for the first time in his life comes horrifying realization, because as a respected surgeon, he sees shit, because hes working in places that screams echo down the halls of and he can just tell that somethings wrong. He snoops and learns of re-education and of what happens to captured killjoys, interrogations and experiments and those are people and hes sickened. The more he digs the more he learns and the more he develops an intense hatred for better living and maybe he starts.. doing experiments of his own. Beause he works on a lot of respected folks, a lot of higher ups. He never botches a surgery but he starts messing with things, fucks with something while hes at the operating table, something that can't be traced back to him but that'll take the patient out in say, a couple months.

He's never disgusted by what hes doing, only finds pride in it, and maybe his hatred has twisted him but he likes himself better that way. The officials catch him snooping, though, eventually, but luckily they don't expect a thing, especially not when hes grown a master at lying. Because he's a respected doctor that has in their minds proven himself loyal, and when he bullshits his way through them finding him snooping about the lower levels of the hospital, they're nothing but happy at the fact he's grown curious about re-education, in fact they show him around, tell him all about it, their words are all propaganda and lies about how they're helping the people there, of course, but he smiles and nods along and makes comments like he agrees wholeheartedly. They say if hes interested in helping these people too, they can get him a position. He asks of he can still be the top surgeon if he takes up this position too and they say of course! As long as he doesn't overwork himself theyd be glad to have him assert himself in different fields of research.

So, he starts working with the prisoners. Because thats what they are. He sees them come in beaten up and hissing and spitting and he gets to see them grow complacent as they forget their whole lives in favor of some made up sob story and how theyll be so much happier once they're introduced back into society after their treatments. They'll only go on to be sanitation workers or office nuts at best, maybe scarecrows if they seem smart, but half of them will probably be plagued with nightmares once thyre released, broken memories trying to break through the chemical haze. They'll relapse, snap, do something drastic and they'll either be dracced or sent right back here to repeat the process all over again. Re-education isn't a complete fix, a guarantee of normalcy. It'll never be, not as long as they're just traumatizing people and praying they stay comatose long enough to get work done.

Hes there when a new batch of them come in, delinquents from the rebel underground, he learns, which flips his world upside down, theres a rebel underground? And they're apparently dangerous enough to be treated like captured killjoys. He sees these new patients come in in bonds, theres five of them captued, some silent and glaring and the others screaming until theres a needle shoved in their neck.

His new position is that of a twisted sort o psychiatrist, they gave him a whole slideshow to get ready for it. It told him to get in their heads, learn the secrets that interrogations couldnt get out and replace them with better living propaganda, until theyre nothing but smiling citizens ready to be let back into society. It's fucking brainwashing, nothing but, he fucking hates it. But they trusted him to do it and now hes here, but since he's here maybe he can help. Not brainwash these people, but help them, and if theyre really part of a rebellion, maybe if he helps them get out they'll take him with them and he can help people that probably actually need it, not just rich assholes from the center city.

Thats his plan, and it works, it takes a while to get the patients to trust him but once they do, they all get out. Sandman, Crab, and Donnie were all part of that group and its how the four meet and bond and start becoming a crew. Dr Benzedrine picks his name and quickly becomes a very valued member of the resistance because theres medics, but no professionals, let alone surgeons.

Mr. Sandman

Street kid, his parents were ritalin rats that stirred up too much trouble and got dracced when he was pretty young. He was hiding under a bed when it happened and Better Living didn't find him, but they didn't bother looking because he was a poor autistic little kid that they saw no use in. So they left him to his empty shitty little apartment in the slums. They never kicked him out, so hes luckier than most that he still had a place to sleep, but once he ran out of food he had to head to the streets, figure out how to either get food or money to survive. He learned and he grew up dealing illegal merchandise, not as low as you could stoop, but pretty low, low enough that if you're busted you could get dracced. But it kept him just afloat enough to not starve.

Illegal merchandise is stuff like outlawed music and media, cds he burned himself off the originals, cassettes, vhs. Just whatever he could get his hands on. And when he could get a signal, he'd play the stuff over the old radio equipment in his basement, making sure to scramble where the signature was coming from, because he'd definitely be dracced if they found out he was putting that stuff on air. Not like it got out of the city, bli has shit that doesn't let any signals in or out, but once in a very rare while, he'll get some faint killjoy frequencies and record whatever he can onto cassettes.

But even though he was dealing in secret and even though he didn't want to be a cog in the machine, even though he wanted to be one of those juvie halls, the rebels on the streets that you can hear hollaring at night, throwing bricks at scarecrows and running off before facial recognition gets them, he strived to get into the Better Living Academy, because it hasn't crosed his mind that he might not be stuck in battery city yet, like most people that rebel, he doesn't want to be on his streets his whole life, so he tries getting in to learn anything, even to get some shitty cubicle job, as long as it means maybe he could actually afford more than the shit slum slop he pawns for. But at he end of the day, he isn't on his pills and he knows they won't like that if they find out, and they keep turning him away anyway for his temperment, for his oddities, because he's still autistic and the bright lights and white expanse of bli spaces make his head scream and he just doesn't get half the questions they ask him and if he has his own questions, they dont explain things furthur for him.

So he gives up on that plan, whatever, at least he's still got his shit to deal out, at least he isnt drugged up like everyone else he saw in the screening rooms for the academy, all empty in the head. He can think, at least. And he has his music, he likes music.

Then he meets Horseshoe Crab, a really weird fellow who takes most of his stock for a hefty handful of carbons that'll get him along for a couple weeks, and the guys so nice he's suspicious, until their deal is interrupted by an ambush, a patrol scarecrows that must've gotten a tip about them, and Horseshoe pulls out a fucking gun, shoots the two closest ones and takes sandmans arm and has him run. At that sandmans convinced the guys not nice at all, hes just fucking crazy, but he runs away after him anyway because the guy just shot two fucking crows, he knows he'll probably live to see morning of he sticks with him. Turns out Horseshoes a juvie hall, like an actual one, not the brash gangs of kids that run around and say they are, actual juvie halls are untraceable, a solid underground, a real rebellion, well hidden from Better Livings watchful eye, its something you have to be smart enough to find and brave enough to join. And sandmans thrust right into the center of it, just a street dealer that followed a crazy guy with a gun that pulled him into a safehouse in the slums that was down a maze of dark alleys, and theres so much illegal shit inside he kind of wants to call it in just for the hefty reward he could get, but he also kind of wants to drop to his knees and worship it all. Theres books, weapons, color. And a few rough looking people that at their sudden entrance, scan them and one goes. "Dammit, Crab."

Long story short, they're members of the fucking rebellion and theres a short but terrifying debate of whether or not to shoot him, but Horseshoe defends him and it turns out the rebellion likes people that risk their lives to deal rock and roll, because he basically gets an invitation. And well, that was his real dream, the one hes had since he was a little kid, wanting to be those unapologetic rebels in the street messing with bli for shits and giggles. This is obviously more than that, but still. So he accepts, and hes thrust into the center of it all. He has to prove he can be trusted by going on so many missions or passing along packages and illegal goods, but once he's proved hes no rat hes showed the base, how to get into the rebellion underground. Its a scattered maze of random apartments that are safehouses, and then the actual underground shit, the tunnels and whole rooms and shit, the stuff from what Battery City used to be that bli just built over and forgot about.

He and Horseshoe become quick friends and he learns that crabs not just a juvie hall but a zonerunner, that he risks his life sneaking in and out of the city to deliver news and supplies to the killjoys out in the desert and vise versa. Sandman turns out to be quite useful, because hes good with computers and especially, radio equipment, since he grew up with that stuff in his basement and copying all that music and playing some over the frequencies when he could, and he fixes up their old shit and becomes the radio operator of the underground rebellion, the voice of the voiceless. He's basically the cherri cola of battery city, as in hes given the task of feeding news to the juvie halls on the streets and so he's always on the air and monolauging what is just weird poetry or random stories to any untrained ears, but while cherri colas thing is actualy just poetry, sandmans is actually speaking entirely in code that only juvie halls will be able to pick apart, because PAX AM isn't some far off station in the zones like WKIL, no, it broadcasts from inside the walls of battery city and better living could always be listening in. Did I make this his thing entirely to play into the lyric all the walls lean in to listen? Maybe.

Hes actually known as Mr Sandman now, took the codename when he became their radio operator, but the suitehearts aren't a thing yet, no, thats still a long way off. Benzedrine isn't even part of the rebellion yet. He also gets his distinct style, encuraged by the juvie halls who just like killjoys push for everyone to be an individual and fuck the citys mandates, so goth gnc bitch it is. The longer hes in the underground the more disconnected from gender he gets.

There's a raid to the underground, someone must have tipped bli off. A solid blow is dealt to the rebellion in the form of a good number of juvie halls being captured, sandman one of them. Now being some low level dealer can get you dracced, but being a real juvie hall gets you something much worse, re-education, because you have to be smart to be a rebel and have survived this long, and bli can use those smarts, as long as they tear you down to a blank slate first. Thats what re-education is, picking you apart piece by piece, drugging you up and pouring propaganda and altered history down your throat until youre a 'functioning member of society'

He's assumed dead or beyond saving from the mindfuck of re-education by the remaining rebellion, who after this bust has to move base to a different part of the city. But about six months after he was taken and the radio went silent, his voice mysteriously reappears, speaking in code about the old base, where the escaped suitehearts went back to and found abandoned as they expected it to be, but had hopes of scrounging old supplies or this, broadcasting their return.

The juvie halls find them and bring them and the radio equipment to the new base, and Mr Sandman is officially the voice of the voiceless again, now with a crew.

Eventually they get fancy tech or an antennae or something thats just strong enough to get a signal out to the zones, and theres always been a slow feed of news between the killjoys and the juvie halls via zonerunners, and the cnnectiom can still be stratchy, but now on the good days Sandman can talk directly to doctor death defying to get news out to the zones and vice versa.

Horseshoe Crab

The only sand pup of the suitehearts, grew in the zones with his dad, who was in the helium wars, but he was dusted when Crab was about eight and he went right to gravel gerties, where he stayed until he joined a group of the older kids when they left gertie to go on their own, and let him tag along even if he was the youngest of them by far. They were all crash queens and glitter brains and he put up with them for a while, but eventually drifted off on his own, and was sixteen when he forst got hired by Tommy to meet with some runners in zone one when they cane outta the walls and to help them get their supplies back to his shop. These jobs always paid well, with either his share of supplies or a handful of carbons, so he kept doing them and eventually tagged along with the runners to go in-city to the rebels there. He liked it there, oddly enough, liked meeting so many different types of rebels, because killjoys are.. killjoys. Theyre all gearheads and glitterbrains but juvie halls tend to be more serious while still having fun. They understand the risk of what they do. Killjoys are just kids with guns, they have growing up to do or things to lose before theyre level headed enoughfor Crab to feel lile he gets them.

So it becomes his thing, zonerunning, getting supplies out to Tommy's and news into the city and vise versa, he makes friends in the underground and eventually meets sandman, then gets caught with him and meets the others too. He isnt around all the time, still does runs, and takes Benzedrine in and out with him if theres someone in the zones that desperately needs a real doctor.

Donnie the Catcher

Hell of an engineer, even figures out robotics, he grew up working in a garage in the neon district, and as he got older, started helping out androids that needed repairs in secret. Its looked down upon to help androids, simce theyre not human and not seen as human, and thats what their service hubs are for, to request repairs, but he knows theres no real help there, not if they're an older model or anything other than some high ups customized pornodroid. Most droids just end up recycled in the incinerators or rusting in the streets, so he does what he can to help when they start falling apart.

He doesn't agree with bli, with how he treats these people, and when a service droid named Jenny that he's helped a handful of times invites him to the underground, because droids can be juvie halls too, theyve gotta be fukin brave to be, because where human juvie halls will be reducated or dracced, rebelling droids will just be shot for going against their programming. Donnie tells Jenny he has to stay and support his family at the garage, but if he can help out he'd be glad to as long as he can get back to the garage at the end of the day. Thats how he becomes a juvie hall. One day down the line he heads to the base and he was there for maybe a half hour when the raid happened and he was captured with the others. He was newer than sandman and crab and had never really crossed paths with them since he didnt spend a whole lot of time in the underground, so hes meeting them for the first time when theyre brought in for re-education. He was one of the ones that stayed quiet and glared, mostly worried about Jenny, that they were there and maybe caught in the raid, becaue she may be all metal but they totally kissed a couple times.

When they all escape he becomes a full time resident in the underground, knowing he can never go back to the garage a fugitive. But not seeing his family is better than the alternative of having been reducated and torn apart at the seams. Besides, once he's got the suitehearts, they're all inseparable.

That's it, once they're a crew, all their experiences and skills combined, they're a unique group for sure. Sandman and Crab already have their own looks and weird relstionships with gender, but Donnie and Benz have never put much thought into the individuality stuff, Benz a slave to Better Living his whole life and Donnie focused on working and surviving. Eventually they find their weird styles, colors theyre fond of as a fuck you to bli, and then the facepaint, it marks them as a crew and as people ready to fight for their cause. Anyway what if I said Donnie transfem she/he(and yes. rocking the beard) :3

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As for the second version, its mostly the same, its just like.. the zones version for stories where they know they fab four. They're all younger and they're basically split between the city and the zones. Their backstories are pretty much the same except Benzedrine got out before he was even really a surgeon, hes still a damn good doctor though, and Sandman left to be a killjoy instead of sticking around the underground. Crabs still a zonerunner that gets Benz in and out to help people and when hes in the desert he bunks with sandman in his concession stand turned weird little trailer in the outskirts of zone two. And Donnies zoneborn too instead of Mrs androidfucker in the city, shes Sandman's good friend and mechanic when he gets into racing at the crash track. They're all good friends and still very much a crew, theyre based out of he zones, Benz too, theyre just still a bit spread out at times when someone in the underground needs help.

Ugh man is there anything missing idk well if there is I guess I can add it later. Okay the end 👍

#americas suitehearts #the suitehearts #dr benzedrine #mr sandman #donnie the catcher #horseshoe crab #ttlotfk #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #corvidscrap

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