Febuwhump Day 13 - alt. Immortality
TWs in tags || read on Ao3 || wc: 710
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His mother called him Katsuki, and he was the most beautiful thing Eijirou had ever seen.
Sometimes, alone in the palace, he brings his lunch to the courtyard where Eijirou is placed and eats. There’s a marble bench by his platform, made by a lord seventy-five years ago in honor of his late mother.
He’ll nod at Eijirou like always, ruby-red eyes glinting in the daylight. His fair blond hair and pale skin glowing in his youth.
Eijirou yearns to reach out and touch him, to pull the young man into his embrace and never let him go.
Eijirou remembers when Katsuki was just a little boy, running and jumping across the yard. In those days, he had no qualms about sitting on Eijirou's feet and holding tight to his leg. Eijirou would imagine he was his caretaker, keeping the boy safe from danger.
Of course, when Katsuki fell from the back of the bench and scraped his knee, he could not hold him and settle his cries.
“You’re looking glum, Shitty Hair.” Katsuki huffs one afternoon, a half-empty picnic basket resting forgotten on the ground.
Naturally, he’d been insulted at first. His hair isn’t shitty!! But, of course, like all of Katsuki, it grew on him.
Katsuki steps into his field of vision, looking him directly in the eyes. Talking to him is something he only does when they’re alone, but Eijirou is always grateful for it.
“The hag said there’s a storm coming in from the North. It’ll be cold, but you’ll clean.”
Don’t call the queen a hag. Eijirou mentally admonishes, rolling his eyes fondly.
Katsuki’s head tilts, considering, “Do you ever get lonely out here? You’re the only one in this yard,” Katsuki sighs, “I wish you could talk, ya dumb piece of stone. I’d wipe that sad look right off your face.”
They stare at each other for a moment more, Eijirou soaking in the boy’s attention.
The silence is broken when the prince’s assistant, Midoriya, steps into the clearing and clears his throat, “Kacchan, your mother is calling for you.”
The boy rolls his eyes, huffing and stomping towards the castle.
Kirishima watches him turn and leave before stooping to collect Katsuki’s discarded lunch. He shoots Eijirou an apologetic glance, nodding, “Good day, Statue-san!”
Eijirou relaxes in his unbreakable skin, standing solid and wide. He gave up wishing to be free a hundred years ago.
He’d been a warrior in his time, part of an elite squad dedicated to serving the king. He was Katsuki’s ancestor, but so many generations have passed that they hardly resemble each other.
Not one to brag, he’d claim they’d all been equals. Eijirou happened to hold the rank of Captain amongst his peers. A natural born leader he thrived in battle and at post.
Mina would call him their rock.
He thinks the irony is painful.
One day, he’d gone on a solo mission to take care of a suspicious character lurking in the woods outside their central city. This person hadn’t done anything, but he was scaring the townspeople, so Eijirou vowed to take care of it.
The next hours were fuzzy, and not even time had helped him sort out what had happened.
One moment he was right on the guy’s trail, and the next he was back in the palace courtyard. It seemed years had passed.
His friends visited him on and off until, one by one, they all died.
Eijirou felt nothing but regret and resignation until the first born queen took a walk with her screaming newborn.
When they had passed Eijirou by, the baby had stopped fussing abruptly, looking over to Eijirou and reaching his hands out.
The queen had laughed, allowing the baby to grip onto Eijirou’s clenched fist.
And twenty years later, Katsuki was married under the same statue.
She was beautiful, a brunette with rosy cheeks and joyful eyes. A bride picked by the high court and Katsuki himself.
She loved Eijirou’s courtyard for the flowers, and they would often picnic there in the months before their ceremony.
They held hands under Eijirou’s gaze, tied their knot and exchanged rings.
He promised to love her for eternity, but when he kissed her he looked at Eijirou.
And they smiled.
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I think the age of majority should be 13, and children younger than that should still have more rights than teenagers do today. Parents should have less rights than grandparents have currently.
Oh, are you going to call me a pedo, or something? Nah fuck off, you can have your one stupid thing, literally it's fine, make everything other than the age of consent 13 and keep that at 18, I don't even care, that's not your goddamn trump card anymore.
But that whole "brain development" study that doesn't even fucking exist is nonsense folk wisdom that was never even measured empirically, the brain doesn't "stop developing" at 25, if you ever invoke that you just want to believe it so you can have your excuse to treat college kids like shit too.
all of the arguments against this are bad ones, on some level we all recognize that teenagers are kinda bad at being adults but that is what they are, it's disgusting that we would use their lack of experience as an excuse to ever treat them the same way we treat five year olds over the way we treat fifty year olds.
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You know what idea has always ENCHANTED ME?
Ever since I saw it on a sci-fi show?
The Deadly Magical House That Loves You™. See, it's a house that has become something MORE. Gained sentience. And? Instead of acting out some cheap horror movie jump scares? It digs deep to its foundations, thinks long n hard, and decides on what it WANTS.
And it WANTS?
To be a HOME™.
To TAKE CARE OF somebody. Have LIFE in its halls. Meals at its tables. Joy and laughter bouncing across its walls. So? It lays a trap. Lures people in.
Come live in me~
I am a good home.
I am Free! I am "Safe". I will give you whatever your heart desires.
I care not for morality or laws. Boundaries or taboos. Do you desire? Come, come, be HAPPY~! Live in me! Relax here! Forget about the world beyond these walls. Anything I can not give you, I can bring TOO you! This is a Happy Home.
But, of course, such sentience and pushiness terrifies. People run and flee in horror. The house getting more aggressive. Trying to hold tighter. After all! If they would just STAY for a while, they would SEE! It's so LOVELY here! The would LOVE to live inside them!
But... instead?
They are hurt.
Doors smashed open. Windows broken to escape. Furniture thrown. Their avatar, Jeeves, bashed with heavy things. Why... WHY?! They are only trying to HELP! To LOVE them! Be a good HOME! They grow more and more run down. Starved. Wrathful.
It is, of course, their Obsession. To be a home. They are so very hungry.
When? Who should come along?
But the depressed AF Ghost King! He's been... not TECHNICALLY kicked out. But "things are tense" kicked out. He's tired. His college courses are remote. He can't really AFFORD rent. And everything is just...
He's TIRED.
He wants to cry.
Why... why can't he have ONE good thing? ONE sign everything's gonna be alright?
"Free House!"
Well... I mean... that IS a literal sign. Huh. He flies down. The house notices him. Tries to look as enticing as it can. And? Gasp! I... It's WORKING? This one seems INTERESTED? Quick! Flowerbeds! Look at my flowerbeds! Ooooh, lovely floooowers! A.. and there's probably really nice wood flooring! C'mon. C'moooon!
Danny? Sees a free Lair. Not too far from both Gotham AND Metropolis. Good location. Needs a little fixing up. But I mean... you can't beat free, right?
Is he really gonna do this?
......fuck it. Yeah, let's do this. First house time. He's just glad he carries a sharpie on him most of the time. Scribbles "Sold!" Over the sign then calls Jazz. He's... kinda not sure WHAT he's supposed to pack?
Finds out, post move in, whoop. Sentient Lair. Clingy, clingy, highly desperate sentient Lair. Oof. Guess fixing up the place can be therapy for both of us. Jazz helps.
The house heals. He falls into a routine. Schoolwork, hang out in the garden or the observatory, meals FaceTiming friends or watching videos, naps whenever he wants them. It's... it's so peaceful. Quiet and soothing to his agitated and worn down soul. Like a balm.
House gets him whatever he needs. They're kinda awesome like that. Always seems to have room to fit this or that. He doesn't question it. His brain figuring it works on Zone logic.
He probably SHOULD have.
Because? Things have been going missing. At a slow, steady, pace. Food, technology, entertainment. A building that shouldn't BE there, has been spotted in a wealthy county just outside of Superman and Batman's two cities.
No one can get near it.
It's been getting BIGGER.
Growing, like a tumor, room by room. Floor by floor. The gardens creeping like kudzu, to swallow everything in their path. Yet delivery drivers drop things off. Things they don't remember. On trips they don't recall. People are scared.
Amateur detectives have managed to discover some sort of starlit fae that lives there, along with a human boy.
Justice League Dark has been called in. Are currently standing just outside the slowly creeping property line. A garden statue just hissed at them. The trees are trying to throw acorns. A hushed argument has already broken out. How do they contain the house?
@the-witchhunter @nerdpoe @hypewinter @hdgnj @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @spidori @lolottes
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