#I can't write this right now | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

veinsfullofstars · 2 months

Text

“Quit laughin’, ya bastard, I’m dyin’ over here! Get me some starsdamn milk, for cryin’ out loud!”

(ID: Kirby series fanart comic of Dark Meta Knight and Daroach, in which lunch is interrupted by a disagreement on spicy food and some improper use of the Sharing mechanic. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)

Based on a personal headcanon that DMK enjoys spicy food and Daroach vehemently does not.

UPDATE: I foRGOT HIS EYE SCAR?? HeLLO??? (fixed it now but starsdamn it this is why I shouldn't post stuff the second I finish heck dang it all veins get some sleep would you)

Started 04/06/24, finished 04/09/24.

---

Transcript:

Panel 1

*DMK and DR sitting side-by-side enjoying some lunch together - a sandwich for the thief, a plate of spicy curry for the knight. DMK (his mask pushed up to the side of his head, bits of curry stuck to his face) idly eats his meal with a fork as DR picks up and scrutinizes a small bottle of hot sauce the knight had set aside, a brow raised in disappointment.*

DR: “Ultra spicy,” huh? Blech. How can you stand this stuff, Dark? Like, can you even taste anythin’ anymore? (Besides pain?)

Panel 2

DMK: Aw, c’mon, it’s not that bad. Here, want a bite~?

*setting his fork upright in the curry, DMK pushes his plate aside and turns towards DR with the most mischievous expression, reaching up to grab the collar of his cape. DR turns his head sharply, dropping the bottle and the sandwich, as the knight starts tugging him towards him.*

DR: What’re you-? Hey! No! No! Don’t you friggin’ dare, Dark, I swear to Nova-

Panel 3

*DMK stands up and yanks DR down towards his face, a hand clasped on the back of the thief’s head to hold him there. DR flinches (VFX: two large exclamation points), knocked off his feet and holding his paws out in surprise. A wisp of steam rises from between them, curling into a little pink heart at the top. Text reading “*Face-to-Face SFX*” hovers behind DMK.*

Panel 4

*DR jerks away from DMK, red-faced and doubled over in pain, his eyes squeezed shut and his tongue hanging out with a fresh red burn on the end, steam emitting from his face in puffs. He frantically fans at his mouth with one paw while shoving DMK away with the other.*

DR: (breaking the dialogue bubble in places) AAGH!! Ow! Star-burnin’ son-of-the-void what is wrong with you piece a’- aaaughh dammit stars dammit ow ow ow ow!!

*DMK cackles, leaning away with one arm held up against the rat’s pushing paw, one eye shut and mouth stretched open in a wide smile, a single incisor prominent within and a touch of blush at the corner. Text reading “HA HA HA HA HA HA HA” hovers behind him surrounded by laugh lines.*

156 notes · View notes

thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname · 1 year

Text

#pickle pontificates #they just have a very good and specific flavor #a lot of the stuff I've seen and resonated with the most falls into this category I've noticed #not even like I'm seeking it out it just keeps happening #i like the action and the goofiness you tend to find in shonen stuff #but i think there's something about the way women tend to write characters and emotions that appeals to me personally #not that i think anyone's going to find this that would misinterpret it but obviously it's not like men can't write characters/emotions #that's what i like so much about haikyuu #which was done by a guy as far as anyone knows #and i also love mp100 if you couldn't tell #right now this is about #fma #fmab #tbhk #noragami #but it can be about whatever you want it to and I'm sure it'll be about more stuff for me in the future

1K notes · View notes

drysaladandketchup · 4 months

Note

for the "things you said" writing meme -- matthew/leon, 12 :)

Thank you for the request <3 I realised very quickly I have no idea what constitutes a 'mini' fic. I struggle to write 'mini' anything lol. Hopefully this still satisfies :)

12. things you said when you thought i was asleep

It takes all of Matthew's willpower not to reach over and smash his phone just to shut off the alarm. All that saves his wallet and an awkward trip to the Apple store is the split-second realisation that the shrieking in his ear isn't his usual alarm.

It's a ringtone. Not his own, either.

He pries his eyes open to find the world through the window is still dark. One of the balcony doors is still ajar, letting in a cool night breeze. He's lying on his side in his own bed, the end of the all-star weekend memorialized by several aches and bruises.

His hips and ass are a little sore too, but that's unrelated. Technically.

The ringing stops. Someone huffs behind him.

Someone. Yeah, no, Matthew knows who it is. They may have met up at the bar once the media was done swarming, but Matthew was far from drunk. Painfully sober, in fact. If he's being honest with himself, he was hoping things would turn out this way.

One more time. One more moment. Because it's been a long time since they were them. Longer still since the sex was just sex, since hate became want. Matthew is strong in a lot of ways, but not against this.

"Davo." Leon's voice is low, and still gruff from sleep when he answers his phone. He sits up on his side of the bed, trying not to disturb Matthew, pulling the covers back up over Matthew's shoulder like he thinks he'll freeze to death in this balmy Florida winter.

Usually Matthew's a heavy sleeper. But never when Leon's around. He makes it impossible for Matthew to completely relax, to let time slip by. Leon's just too big of a presence, almost too much to bear. It was more important that everything linger, to bask in the strange comfort of their relationship, whatever it was. They had so little time. Even less, now.

"I know it's late. No, no, I'm not at the hotel. I'm... I'm with Tkachuk."

Leon says his last name like it's wrong, like it's rotting on his tongue.

When he corrects himself, says, "Matthew", it's better, lighter. Like it's ambrosia.

Matthew remembers when Leon Draisaitl saying his name wouldn't have meant a damn thing to him. When that simple act didn't fill him with fondness.

In the silence, Matthew can hear McDavid talking on the other end, but can't quite make out what he's saying. Matthew tucks up under the duvet, breathing quiet and even, trying to focus instead on the distant sound of waves and the ticking clock on his wall.

Ticking. Always ticking. Time bleeds out when they're together.

He doesn't even remember falling asleep last night, but he wishes he hadn't now. He wishes he'd stayed awake longer, just to... just to see him. To look Leon in the eye, to talk about everything and nothing until dawn, to feel big, too-warm hands on his body more and more and more. He wants to make sure he'll remember how Leon feels, sounds, tastes.

"Connor," Leon says, a warning, followed by a sigh. "I know. I know, okay? It was stupid, but..."

Maybe it was. Matthew has a good thing here in Florida. Better than ever. He was happy to leave Alberta behind and start over. So why did leaving make him feel like a coward?

Because leaving was about Calgary, and the Flames. About his career and his future. It wasn't about Leon. Leon was the wrench in the gears; the one thing he didn't expect to have to say goodbye to, the kind of hurt he never could have accounted for.

"I needed to see him." Leon sounds helpless. He's not the only one.

The only time he's heard Leon so lost was after his team was knocked out of the playoffs last season. The Oilers meant nothing--Matthew was pretty fucking glad considering they'd beat out the Flames--but he never wanted to hear Leon like that again.

He definitely never wanted to be the cause of it. Not like this.

Leon is still mumbling into his phone. "Yeah, I'm fine. He's... we're good. He's happy."

A hand settles on Matthew's head. Fingers play with his curls, nails scratch his scalp. A thumb presses just behind Matthew's ear, stroking the soft skin where only hours before Leon had put his lips, whispering sweetness and filth in equal measure.

It takes everything for Matthew not to groan, to whimper and surrender, roll over and climb on top of Leon and take all over again. Beg him to take something--everything--from Matthew.

"I don't know," Leon says then.

It's easy to guess what McDavid asked.

He's happy. But are you?

"I can't even tell him I still love him."

Still. Matthew didn't even know there was a before, let alone a still. Leon never said anything. Fuck, if Matthew wasn't busy trying to remember how to breathe, he'd roll over and punch him.

Then again, what did Matthew ever say? They never talked about it. Never let those closet hook-ups and slipping out back doors and little drinks and dinners and overnights excused as practical necessity be anything more than that. A bunch of chirps and half-truths and aborted discussions because it was all becoming too much. There was too much uncertainty. Too many ways it could go wrong.

It did go wrong. It became something. It became real.

Maybe that would have changed something. Maybe it wouldn't have changed anything at all. It doesn't matter now. Matthew left, and neither of them said a word about things like love, because it was easier to hope it would shrivel and die with distance and time.

"I know I'm being stupid." Leon pauses when McDavid interrupts, then huffs. "No, I am. Fuck, I really thought I'd get over it. Maybe I will. Eventually."

Don't you fucking dare, you piece of shit, Matthew wants to scream.

"Not sure I can, though." Leon swallows so loud Matthew can hear it. Then quieter, like he's not sure he's even allowed to admit it, he says, "I don't really want to."

He's still playing with Matthew's hair, occasionally dragging a finger over his bare shoulder or down his back, tracing imaginary lines across Matthew's flesh. Like he's something to be memorized and cherished.

They're both so fucking stupid. Matthew bites his lip and tries not to choke on the lump in his throat. Could be his heart, climbing right up and out of his mouth. He clings to the sheets with shaking hands.

"I'm not going to fuck up what he's got here," Leon says tiredly, voice thick with tension and pathetic resignation.

Leon's not here to drag him back. He wouldn't do that. So why is he here? Just to torture them both? Being with him doesn't feel like torture. It feels like winning. It feels like defiance and decadence and too much and not enough. It feels like what could have been and what could still be.

He didn't find Leon at that bar and bring him home out of pity, or nostalgia, one last fuck for old times sake. It was... it just was. Not an ending. Not some final goodbye. Proof maybe there could still be something. Getting over it was never an option, Matthew knew that well before he stepped onto the ice as a Panther and found himself staring Leon down all over again.

Matthew's vision is blurring. His eyes sting, warm and wet. There's blood pounding in his ears, and a hand clutching his heart, a vice around his lungs. He hardly remembers how to breathe.

He doesn't catch the rest of Leon's conversation, except something about meeting Connor back at the hotel tomorrow. Meaning he's staying the night, at least. He's staying.

When Leon hangs up the phone, Matthew finally comes up for air. He relaxes his shoulders, listening to the soft thump as Leon taps his phone against his forehead over and over. Then it clatters on the side table. Leon sighs, sniffs, and sinks back under the covers. He tucks right up against Matthew's back, still burning like a furnace, soft muscle and skin brushing Matthew's spine in all the right ways.

He throws an arm around Matthew and finds one of his hands, worming his fingers through the gaps to hold it. His palm is sweaty, not that it matters at all to Matthew. He can't help squeezing Leon's hand a little, but if Leon notices, he doesn't say a word.

Not until he's wrapped tight around Matthew, near suffocating, like any part of them that isn't touching is a sin.

"Love you," Leon mumbles, barely more than a whisper, pressing his lips right to the base of Matthew's neck. Matthew's body can't seem to decide whether to shiver or melt under the heat.

Leon says it like it's inevitable. Painful. Pitiful.

What he's saying is, I'm sorry I love you. I'm sorry I couldn't say it before. I'm sorry I don't know how to say it now. I'm sorry it's too late, it's the wrong place, the wrong time.

Like he doesn't think Matthew could ever understand. And that's the worst part of it all. They're still not on the same page. Tearing down what they never built.

If Leon's only brave enough to say it when Matthew's asleep, then Matthew will just have to be brave enough to say it in the light of day. He doesn't run, and he won't now that he knows he doesn't have to.

He stares into the night outside his window, listening to Leon breathe, feeling his heart beat through Matthew's chest like that's where it longs to be.

Tomorrow. Tomorrow maybe they can stop chasing time long enough to make the most of what they have. To make up for what they've wasted. And whatever happens after, well, maybe they can stop being afraid of that, too.

#hockey #mattdrai #matthew tkachuk #leon draisaitl #my writing #asks #i can take any prompt and shove angst into it just watch me #'mutual pining dumbasses who can't communicate' my beloved trope #i hope it's obvious this is happening during/right after the 2023 asg #i know 2020 was the sacred texts but I feel like we don't use 2023 for mattdrai purposes enough #poor connor always suffering through mattdrai bullshit #leon has a scrapbook full of pictures of matthew and will be like 'remember when my bf left me ;_;' and connor wants to jump off a bridge #'mini' fic they said. i don't think 1.6k is mini. it got away from me. but i have never been concise in my life why start now

153 notes · View notes

willowser · 1 year

Note

How much do I have to pay for more nerd Kiri?? CUZ I WILL

you see him again in the break room — which is odd, considering he's got his own on the other end of the building.

in the middle of reheating your lunch, staring dead-eyed into microwave as the seconds tick by, and then a little red blip is gracing the edges of your vision. when you look up from the 100-year-old creaking contraption, kirishima's back is turned — undoubtedly his back, considering the width — and his hands are fists at his sides and he's awkwardly shuffling back down the hall.

you pout a little, because you haven't been getting very far with him; all your attempts at flirting — both in person and over instant messenger — have gone either completely ignored or completely over his head, and you're starting to wonder if sero was just gassing you up as a prank. you wouldn't put it past him.

— but then he's back, facing you this time as he reenters the break room. the little wave he gives you is timid, as shy as the small up-turn of his lips.

"hey," you say conversationally, watching on as he nods and walks up to the cabinet above the microwave. kirishima peers inside for a long moment, like he can't find what he's looking for, though you have no idea what that could be. "forget something?"

"huh?" his eyes snap to you instantly, eyebrows raised. "no, no! i was just, uh, checking for, uh—" he shrugs then, taking a deep breath before offering you another smile. "how's the rubberband war going with hanta?"

"ugh, don't remind me," you roll your eyes as he laughs, quiet and cute. "it's 17 to 8 right now, and i'm surprised he hasn't taken out my eye yet."

"man," kirishima takes another long look into the cabinet before abandoning it to spin around and lean back against the counter. when he crosses his arms, you watch the material of his shirt strain over his biceps, the plush of his chest as he presses into his pecs. "you might wanna work on your aim."

"so i've been told," you stick your tongue out at him, lips curling when he has to look away in favor of scratching at the side of his thick neck, smiling at the floor. "you should help me, since you know how much of a menace he is."

"uh, yeah, i mean," he shrugs and pushing his glasses up his nose, having to blink when the lenses get too close to his long, dark eyelashes. "maybe i could make like, i don't know, a target or something on some sticky notes or—"

"no, lemme get some real practice in, by firing right at your cute little glasses here." when you gently tap the arm of them, his eyes shoot up to the ceiling, cheeks pink. all you get is a quiet uh. "c'mon, i'll make it worth your while. buy you a beer or something after work."

"nah, i can't—i can't let you do that."

you frown, feeling deflated once again. "why not?"

"because," the top button of his light blue shirt is undone and he fiddles with it for a moment, as he chews on his lip. "because i should be buying you the beer."

"okay," you grin and his eyes dart up, taking in the curve of your cheeks. "buy me one then."

"okay," the little laugh he lets out is full of nerves, but the smile on his face is charming, triumphant. "i've, uh, got dnd—or this, uh, game—sort of thing i play, or do, with my friends, but i can cancel!"

"oh, well, you have this 'game sort of thing that you do' at your house?" you grin again when he nods, cheeks red, and resist the urge to throttle him for being so fucking cute. "then why don't i have the beer at your place, so you don't have to cancel?"

"uh, no, no," kirishima's demeanor changes immediately as he stands straight, shaking his head as he stares down at his shoes. "no, it's, uh, kinda like—i don't know—weird, and i don't want you to have to sit through my nerd stuff."

"maybe i like nerd stuff," you bite your lip when he looks at you again, smothering another sultry little smile as his eyes zero in in your mouth. "dragons and elves and shit like that. after everybody leaves, we can play princess in a castle and you can be my knight in shining armor."

"uh," he laughs again, jittery, and takes a small step back when you try to lean into him. "i thought we were doing it—uh, doing the rubberband thing."

you can't help it; a small groan leaves your throat as you deflate. again. "kirishima, you're killing me here."

he exhales heavily, unable to even look at you as he speaks breathlessly. "sorry! uh, yeah, no, it starts at, um, 7 if you really wanna come."

"okay," you lightly tap your foot against his twice before turning back to the microwave, jabbing the numbers again because your food has surely gone cold at this point. "save me a seat, then."

"yeah, okay, i definitely will."

you can feel his eyes tracing over your profile, but if you have to look at his big, crimson eyes or pink cheeks any longer, you'll lose your mind, and so you direct your smile at the microwave. unceremoniously, he awkwardly shuffles around you, shoulders tense as he makes an abrupt exit.

— but he turns, suddenly, and when you look up, he's got one hand in his hair, gripping it lightly.

"did you really wanna do the princess thing or—i could, i don't know—" he turns away one last time when you can't help but to giggle, barely suppressing his own smile as you call out to him that, yes, you would love to do the princess thing, with him.

#no payment necessary !!!!!!#i have too much fun with this alfhskak fucking akfbdjakak dork !!!!!#i can't. i literally can't with him.#he makes me nuts i'm going nuts #i just wanna AKFBDIRHWKALOQ #he's such a AJDBFJEIQIANKZKAL #i have to go lie down i cant do this with him right now #✿ willow writes #✿ ask willow #✿ thoughts: kirishima #✿ theme: nerd kiri

432 notes · View notes

fisheito · 3 months

Text

i told myself that yakuei only had one position then i proved myself (sorta) wrong

my fave face here:

#technically... if they were boinking in outer space... a lot of these would be the same position #makes a rotate-y gesture with my fingers #what is yakumo's kabedon if not a vertical missionary #so i've half proven myself right AND wrong! i'm net neutral in outer space broskis!!!!!#zizz-asdf if ur reading these tags i'll have u know that u inspired me to Do the Research1 #like. 5 garu riding eiden? no. it can't be. does yaku do one specific thing with eiden 5 times? *tries to write it down*#i can't quite... what's the word for that position...uhhhh #ah forget it i'll just draw it out #<- that was the process of creating this. collage? 😆#THE MATRIX OF YAKUEI BOINKINg POSITIONS (under construction)#when u about to be semi-normal and make a spreadsheet but ur sexcabulary is stunted so you resort to visuals instead #legit opening up every intimacy room and skipping thru sections to get as complete a picture as possible #wondering... where are yaku's feet planted in this one. (skips to 8minute mark)#ah! there they are. theyre not supporting his weight in this one *draws it*#while drawing crimson phantom room 2 my brow was furrowed and i was mentally narrating #[and this one i affectionately call.. rectal exam - professional misconduct Grounds for Termination)]#surprised they str8 up havent done classicdoggstyle yet. is it because he's a snake? garu should teach him #also surprised that there's been no Light SSR for yaku yet. come on!! Light mode on the double!#uhhh i think the only repeated positions were freestanding (choco liqueur r2 and dark nova r2)#and standing AGAINST! THE! WALL! (choco liqueur r5 {interior} and shadow lineage r5 {cave})#wait. *throws papers around* i swear they did missionary more than once. was it only ocean breeze???#i know with the intimacy rooms they gotta modify the positions into certain angles to make it...look...better #but seriously? only one missionary out of the lot of them? despite the aesthetic tweaks??? how can that ........#*tosses more papers around with increasing befuddlement* WHERE IS MY PURE 100% VANILLA BEAN ICE CREAM #sighs as all the papers lie scattered on the ground #dude... i don't know anymore..... this is beyond my scope #now that i see how evenly spread out the positions are...#i BET the devs have SOME SORTA CHART tracking yaku's positions. now THAT'S a funky office corkboard!#yakuei #nu carnival eiden

98 notes · View notes

schneiderenjoyer · 18 hours

Text

Help...save me...it won't leave my head...

#reverse 1999 #vertin #schneider #sonetto #regulus #my art #magical contract au #in case it won't leave my head again #i have a serious problem with making AUs that i wanna draw and write for #pls someone rescue me from my brainrot i can't have this right now i have summer internship next month--#y'all ever want more older women magical girls? me too #classic “being a magical girl doesn't affect my daily life” VS modern “becoming a magical girl retroactively ruined my life”#why not both at this point it'll be an interesting narrative

59 notes · View notes

starry-bi-sky · 3 months

Text

more cfau miscellaneous things because Childhood Friends Danny and Jason have my head and heart always and I need to finish rewriting chapter two dammit (and redo the half-finished chapter 4 because its just Not The Vibes). i'm almost through I need to get through the graveyard scene. (i just stubbornly refuse to have it be shorter than the original chapter and thats the little death. that is the mind killer.)

Danny and jason’s ghost forms both smell faintly like burnt flesh and cigarettes. However, Jason has a more smokey smell while Danny’s smells almost,,, electrical? In a sense? Like he just straight up smells like burnt flesh and sulphur while Jason smells like someone put him in a smoker first.

It’s very much an unpleasant smell but Danny finds an odd comfort in it just as much as he finds a comfort in the smell of nicotine.

(Jason post-revival smells burnt flesh once and is immediately offput by the fact that it brings him an instinctive comfort. He doesn’t realize its because it reminds him of Danny, and is uncomfortable by it.)

In an au of an au, Danny’s altercation with Rath ends with Rath regaining enough of his sanity to snap out of the grieving state and ends with him breaking down. Instead of being souped and imprisoned, Rath, who is permanently 14, decides to Move On into the unknown. He’s exhausted, heartbroken, and tired.

(Is this influenced heavily by the ParaNorman scene where he talks to Agatha and helps her move on? Yes. But it doesn’t fit with the Original Storyline so im shoving it into an Au of an Au.)

Rath tells Danny that Jason lied to them (which he genuinely believes), and that he’s tired of waiting/looking for him/grieving. Jason is gone. He isn’t coming back, he abandoned them. And he wants his mom and dad, and his sister, and his friends. And he’s ready to join them.

He leads Danny out to Gotham, which other than Amity Park might’ve been the only city left untouched due to Rath’s own mental block on the place. They go out to the park he and Jason used to frequent or up to one of crime alley’s rooftops, and there Rath lies down and goes to sleep. Only to never wake up again, materializing into nothing as his soul moves on.

Before Rath leaves, he forces Danny to promise him that he’ll only wait for Jason for ten years. After that if he doesn’t find him, or if Jason doesn’t show, then Danny has to move on. Whether that be like how Rath does, or if its inly mentally/emotionally, doesn’t matter. He has to move on. Don’t wait for him. Don’t waste his time any more.

(“Oh, and if you find him, kick his ass for me.”)

Danny reluctantly agrees, and Rath lies down. Danny sings to him as he falls asleep.

(Angsty points if the vigilantes including Red Hood caught wind of their presence and were silently watching from the shadows. Rath might know they’re there, but Danny’s too focused on Rath to notice.)

(If only so that Red Hood realizes that this is what happened to Danny, and that Danny is gone before he can make things right. The tragedy, folks. The angst. The initial realization that Danny was Rath, and then also that Danny was dead and has been dead for years, and that before he moved on, he moved on believing that Jason abandoned him.)

(like i said it doesn't fit in the original timeline/storyline hence why its an au of an au and isn't nearly a fleshed out, but i was largely just focusing on the tragedy of Rath moving on and Jason being alive to see it and realize just who Rath is.)

Just like how the Lazarus pits shot Jason's twiggy 4'6-5'4 (depending on what you find) feet tall and 86lb ass up like a tree an essentially fixed his malnutrition, the portal did the same thing for Danny.

(granted i forgot about malnutrition and danny's likely stunted growth at first -- his family lived in crime alley and despite both his parents working, I don't think they had enough food all the time. He probably wasn't as badly malnourished as Jason was, but he wasn't healthy either.)

Granted his ghost in its "natural" state (14) is short, and his growth spurts were slow at first, it did result in him reaching his dad's height. There were points where it just happened overnight, like a baby. He went to bed one night 5’6 and woke up the next day 5’10.

Jazz is shorter than him. Although I have't decided if she's even liminal at all (and if she is, it didn't cure everything because she would have also suffered childhood malnutrition, and since in au canon their parents didn't get their hands on physical ectoplasm until after they got to Amity Park. So the exposure is less.)

Danny's voice absolutely sounds like canon Dan's. It kinda just dropped one day when he was 16-17 and never went back up. Sam and Tucker sometimes ask him to just talk about anything because they find his voice soothing.

I'm not sure yet how Danny would feel about it at first considering Rath, but I imagine that Rath, when he did speak, would have had a quieter and scratchier/weaker voice considering he's spent the last decade shrieking and crying.

(and i suppose technically that shouldn't have any effect on his throat considering he's a ghost and idk if that would actually affect him, but i like the idea so im keeping it)

In the beginning you could hear him from a mile away by the sound of his loud, echoing wails, but ten years later you can only really hear him by the soft, shuddering sobs he makes. Like he's gasping for air that isn't there. The future is full of very quiet survivors.

And it's much easier to speak when you pitch your voice upwards (especially when whispering/speaking quietly) so he might've spoken in a higher, airy pitch in order to be heard. So Danny might actually find a comfort in having a lower voice.

#tw mentions of gore #cw gore #i suppose this counts as gore #dp x dc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc #dpxdc crossover #childhood friends au #cfau #really leaning into the idea of rath just being a horror. the horrors! i am delighted in the horrors!#im having fun with it #i swear to god turning 19 turned a switch on in my brain because i am much more comfortable with gore and heavy injury now than i was l #literally a year ago. the urge to write about some of danny's most horrific injuries in his fights is STRONG #like the hORRORS folks. *th horrors*. i dont think i'll ever write a dissection fic because that icks me out but the idea that danny's had #to stitch up his own throat because it got slit in a fight nd he cant shift back to human until he's done because his ghost will survive bu #his body wont #the idea that he's been impaled multiple times before and it hurts each fucking time but he still gets up and hurls the hurt right back in #equal measure. because that's how you wanna play? okay. lets play. he's 14 and his best friend is dead. he can play.#and the idea that all ghosts have 'corpse' forms where their ghosts look exactly like how they died. and danny is utterly unrecognizable #jazz being liminal or not just isnt important to me because she's barely gonna show up in the story anyways #same reason why i hardly use the headcanon that ellie becomes danny's daughter because what use is she to me like that? she'll hardly have #an impact on the story and i refuse to treat characters like props. if they can't help progress the story then they aren't included

94 notes · View notes