Trick or treat :3
trick!
.... No no, you get a treat <3
Excerpt from the been-in-progress-for-a-year sequel to Hands in Fate <3
It's Grumbo <3
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Then those three breathless words against his lips, that damning I love you, that stopped him in his tracks.
It made his stomach flip and his heart soar and it felt right.
Except Mumbo didn't know he wasn't mortal.
He looked Mumbo in the eyes, wide with surprise at his own words, and knew it was true.
He leaned their foreheads together and cupped Mumbo's face, gently, in his hands, because love and trust went hand in hand and he knew Mumbo needed to know.
Because how could Mumbo love him when he didn't even know him?
He didn't know something so deep, so personal about Grian- his true self, what he really was- and how could it possibly be fair to let him love the person he thought Grian was?
"Can you keep a secret?" He whispered, gazing into Mumbo's eyes.
(He had never been good with eye contact, even after years of exploring the earth. Watchers had many eyes, not all of them their own, and they rarely used the eyes that mimicked humans'- the two eyes that could only see in the mortal world, the two eyes that blinded their hundreds and thousands of others, the eyes that were their greatest weapon and their greatest weakness.)
"Because I love you too, but there's something you need to know first," he whispered, though in the silence it felt deafening.
Mumbo's hand moved up to Grian's face, feather-light and oh so gentle and warm. He leaned into the touch, closing his eyes and smiling softly.
"You can tell me anything, Grian. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
Of course he wouldn't- and even though Grian knew Mumbo would have no choice but to keep his secret, the knowledge bound by godly laws to never leave a mortal's lips, it still warmed Grian's heart that the man he loved so much would honestly agree without hesitation.
"Not even your friend? Scar?" Grian murmured, leaning in closer so their lips barely brushed together.
"It's not my secret to share," Mumbo told him, gently pressing a small kiss to his lips.
(Grian was often called a mischievous, troublemaking, but just Watcher. His Judgments, as few of them as there had been, were fair, and he kept the other Watchers on their toes- an amazing feat, considering most Watchers had centuries more experience than him. Yet sitting there in the dark, knowing very well how unfair it was to ask Mumbo to love him and continue loving him, he knew he was really a selfish and greedy man.)
"Close your eyes?" Grian asked, and he trusted Mumbo, he loved Mumbo, he knew Mumbo wouldn't doubt him.
He kissed Mumbo again, a little less soft than before- a little more forceful than was really necessary- and pulled him closer, focusing on them, together, and let his hold on his magic loosen, just a little.
He could feel the eyes hidden among his feathers try to open. He didn't need them, though. All he needed was to let Mumbo See, Hear him.
The pantheons of every god exist inside the Void.
He focused on memories and thoughts, choosing specific ones to gently, carefully, push towards Mumbo. The Pantheon. Grian, the true Grian, in the closest form a human could comprehend. The Watchers. His love. His desire to be mortal, to live a life with Mumbo. Everything Mumbo needed to know before their relationship could go any further, but not so much to overwhelm the man.
When he pulled away from the kiss he opened his eyes, looking into Mumbo's again. The man looked dazed, processing everything, but he didn't even so much as loosen his arm around Grian's waist or drop his hand from Grian's cheek.
"Ah," Mumbo murmured, and Grian couldn't help but laugh.
"Ah?" He repeated. "Is that all you can say to finding out your boyfriend is a literal god?"
"Well it's not too surprising, really," Mumbo chuckled, smiling at him- so gently, so softly, so full of love. "You were already one in my eyes."
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Headcanon where after so many arguments between the batkids and Bruce over his paranoia and complete disregard for his kids privacy, the entire family had compromised with (in the healthiest way possible) downloading life360 on their phones and that's how they all keep track of each other.
Now Bruce knew that this is mostly for his benefit and is supposed to be a healthy alternative for his unhealthy paranoia and helicopter parenting, but what he wasn't expecting was for his kids to start keeping track of him.
He's putting gas in his car and Dick calls him because apparently Dick has been watching him drive around on the app? And Bruce is currently at a gas station thats right around the corner from a Taco Bell and now Dick wants him to get food for everyone since he's already there.
He's driving home from a meeting and Steph calls him because her and Duke were shopping in the area and wants to know if he can pick them up, when he asks how she knew he was on the same street, he gets a "Oh I just like to stalk everyone on the app for funsies." as an answer.
Jason calls him and he can barely get out a hello before Jason cuts him off, "Bruce why the fuck is your phone battery on 5%, charge your damn phone" which completely stuns him because why does he know that. He clears his throat before answering. "Jason, what?"
"Everyone can see each others phone batteries on '360, now charge your phone." Is all he gets before Jason hangs up on him.
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Your personal triggers and squicks do not get to determine what kind of art other people make.
People make shit. It's what we do. We make shit to explore, to inspire, to explain, to understand, but also to cope, to process, to educate, to warn, to go, "hey, wouldn't that be fucked up? Wild, right?"
Yes, sure, there are things that should be handled with care if they are used at all. But plenty more things are subjective. Some things are just not going to be to your tastes. So go find something that is to your tastes and stop worrying so much about what other people are doing and trying to dictate universal moral precepts about art based on your personal triggers and squicks.
I find possession stories super fucking triggering if I encounter them without warning, especially if they function as a sexual abuse metaphor. I'm not over here campaigning for every horror artist to stop writing possession stories because they make me feel shaky and dissociated. I just check Does The Dog Die before watching certain genres, and I have my husband or roommate preview anything I think might upset me so they can give me more detail. And if I genuinely don't think I can't handle it, I don't watch it. It's that simple.
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