before you know about women, you hear that you do not need to love the man, just that you need to love him through his manhood. which is to say you have seen the future painted in lamb's blood over your eyes - how your mother shoots you a look about your father's inability to cook right. how your aunt holds her wineglass and says i'm gonna kill em. men, right! how your best friend bickers with her boyfriend, how she says i can't help it. i come back to him.
you learn: men are gonna cheat. men aren't going to listen when you're talking, because you're nagging. men think emotions are stupid. they think your life is vapid and your hobbies are embarrassing. men will slam things, but that's because men are allowed to be angry. if you get loud, you're hysterical. if a man gets loud - well, men are animals, men are dogs, men can't control their hands or their eyes or their bodies. they're going to make a snide comment about you in the locker room, about your body, about how you're so fucking annoying. you're going to give him kids, and he will give you the money for the kids, and you're going to be running the house 24/7 - but he gets to relax after a long day, because his job is stressful. the man is on stage, and is a comedian, and says "women!"
and you are supposed to love that. you are supposed to love men through how horrible they are to you - because that's what women do. that's what good women do. wife material. your father even told you once - it'll make sense when you're older. it was like staring down a very lonely tunnel.
it feels like something's caught in your throat, but it's all you know, so. it's okay that you see sex as a necessary tool, a sort of okay-enough ritual to keep him happy, even though he doesn't seem to care about happiness as-applied-to you. it is relationship upkeep. it is kissing him and smiling even though he didn't brush his teeth. it is getting on your knees and looking up and holding back a sigh because he barely holds you as you panic through the night. it's not like the sex is bad and you do like feeling wanted. and besides! he's a man! like... they're another species. you'll never be able to actually communicate, right. he isn't listening.
you just don't get it. you don't feel that sense of i'm gonna climb him like a tree. mostly it just feels fucking exhausting. you play the part perfectly. you smile and nod and are "effortlessly" charming. and it's fine! it's alright! you even love him, if you're looking. you could have good life, and a good family, and perfectly happy.
in the late night you google: am i broken. you google i'm not attracted to my husband. you google i get turned on by books but not by him. you google how to get better in bed.
the first time he yells at you, it almost feels like blankness. like - of course this is happening. this is always how it was going to end up. men get angry, and they yell, and you sit there in silence.
you mention it to your friend - just the once - while you're drunk. she shrugs and says it's like that with me too, i just try to forget and move on. men are always gonna hear what they want to. pick your battles and say sorry even though he's in the wrong. you play solitaire online for a month. you go to your therapist appointment and preach about how you're both so in love.
after all, you have a future to want. nobody lied about it - how many instagram posts say marriage is hard. say real love takes work. say we fight like cats and dogs but the best part is that we always make up. how many of your friends say happy anniversary to the best and worst thing to ever happen to me. if you really loved him - loved yourself too - you'd accept that men are just different from you.
the first time she kisses you, it's on a dare at a party. something large and terrifying whips through your body. you wake up sweating from dreams where her mouth is encrusted with pearls and you pick them off one by one with your teeth. fuck. you sit at the computer and your almost-finished game of sim city. you think about your potential perfect life and your potential future family. you google am i gay quiz with your little hands shaking.
you delete each letter slowly. you don't need to love him. you just need to keep going.
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Demian is a clone of Bruce and Talia son whom died thanks to his grandfather actions. The pit failed to bring him back. Well back to them the timing of him being placed in the pit was the second time Jack and Maddie Fenton got their Portal to open just long enough to spit out a very hurt boy.
"I do not see why the Superboy being a clone is such a problem, Kent," Damian grunts, cutting off Clark mid-vent of Conner. He had come to part take in his first ever Sleep Over with Jon.
While the boys have gone upstairs to set up Damian's sleeping place Bruce once again tries to speak about mentoring Conner. It's not as bad as when Conner was first found but things were still strained between them.
It didn't help that whenever Clark fought against Lex's newest scheme, he would fall back to his mistrust of Conner. Tim's mood continually worsened around that time, too, since his boyfriend always returned to him slightly more broken by Clark's inability to trust him.
"You can not tell me the man of steel is so close-minded?"
"Damian," Bruce warns, but his son only raises a brow. He crosses the room to stand before the man of steel, crossing his arms over his chest to copy Alfred's disappointed stance.
"I'm not close-minded for being weary of a clone." Clark starts, face shifting into a defensive scowl.
"I am a clone, and you do not seem to mind my presence. Why is Superboy so different? Surely not the fact he has a boyfriend. I remind you said boyfriend is my brother-"
"What do you mean you are a clone?" Clark cuts in, voice laced with shock. Even Bruce seems baffled by his words when Damian glances at his father.
He squints at both men, trying to figure out what they are playing at.. "I am a clone. You are aware of this."
"No, I certainly am not aware," Bruce grunts, taking a threatening step forward. "What happened to Damian?
"Nothing happened to me, Father. I am standing right before you," Damian gestures to his healthy body. Jon chooses to fly down the stairs with a cheer, and he gives him a look that has the super son pausing. "Our fathers are behaving strangely."
Jon doesn't hesitate to blast his laser eyes at Clark with a quick "Sorry, Dad!"
"Johnathan Samuel Kent!" Clark snaps, having dodged the surprise attack but only barely. The boy freezes in the air, staring wide eyes at his parent, but Damian snaps out his arms and moves to lift his friend into the air with a quick
"I'm sorry! You can ground me when I get you free of mind control!" He shouts, flying right out the window. Bruce tries to stop them by flinging a net at them but Damian counters with his own batarang. The two are dots on the horizon as Damian's voice fades.
"We shall free you soon, Father!"
Bruce narrows his eyes at them but holds up his arm when Clark plants his feet in a position he usually makes when he's about to take flight. It speaks of the trust and years of friendship that the other man stays rooted to the kitchen tile instead of chasing his child.
"What is it, Bruce?" The man asks with slight impatience.
"They seem convinced we knew of Damian's status." Bruce holds up a hand again when Clark opens his mouth to argue. "Let me check something."
In quick motion, he pulls out his phone and places a call. Placing the speaker on, despite the fact Clark could have easily heard every word without it, Bruce holds the phone between them as Tim cheerfully answers.
" 'Sup B."
"Chum, is Damian a clone?"
".....ugh yeah? You know that."
"I do?"
"Yeah, you do. He said so when he first showed up. I mean word per word, "I am not like the rest. I am a copy of perfection, made from the DNA of Father and Mother in an artificial womb." Tim says mockingly, repeating what Damian had said the first night Bruce and the rest met him.
"He meant a literal copy. " Bruce repeats, mystified. "Does that mean I have another son out there?"
Tim goes silent, as his boy tends to do when he knows something but is unsure how to say it. Bruce barely refrains from snapping at him to tell him everything. Tim has a bad reaction to what he sees as disapproval. They talked about it plenty together and with Dinah on what triggers his issues stemming from his upbringing.
"B......Damian was made because Ra's killed the original. In a mock duel when he was nine." Tim's voice is gentle, but it does nothing to soften the devastating blow his words cause. "They tried to save him in the Lazarus, but he never rose. They had enough of his DNA around to make Damian two years later and forced him to match the original's age. Ra's had everything in his files, and Damian has talked about his original plenty of times. I'm sorry. I thought you knew."
Clark places a firm hand on Bruce's shoulder, speaking softly, but he can't hear him. All he can hear is the ringing in his own ears as he realizes that, once again, he has lost a part of his family. Distantly, he knows Clark has helped him into a chair, but he can't really understand his surroundings.
It's like he's watching himself from outside his body as Clark takes the phone out of his slack hold to speak to a distressed Tim, who frantically asks if he's alright.
"What-" he chocks after a moment. "What was his name?"
"Oh, Bruce," Clark whispers in a sympathetic tone as Tim answers.
"Danyal. His name was Danyal."
It's a lovely name. He weeps into his hands for the boy it belongs to as his best friend holds him through grief. They tell Tim to find Jon and Damian so he can break down in private.
A few states over, Danny Fenton sneezes violently three times. His friend Tucker gives him a teasing smile.
"Oh, some girl is crying over you!"
"As if" He laughs punching the other in the arm "Who would cry over little old me?"
Master Post Link
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The King's last gift
Danny was tired, tired of being responsible for protecting the world. At first it was just Amity but the ghosts began to explore more and the halfa was exhausted. He was the only hero available and it was taking its toll.
He knew he couldn't go on like this, let alone with his coronation around the corner but he didn't know what else to do. He knew he couldn't interfere with the world after the crown was on his head. The world would fear him (maybe even more than now) and protecting them with so much power in hand could do more harm than good, but if he didn't protect them, who would?
His core ached at the thought of all those people begging for a hero who wouldn't come, so Danny took desperate measures, and cheated a little.
He visited Desiree; she watched him with a raised eyebrow, curious. And Danny did what he forbade long ago, he wished. He wished for the future and for humanity itself, he uttered the words he had wanted to say ever since he knew he would not be able to visit earth for a long time.
"I wish for the world to be safe even when I no longer live in it, I wish for there to be someone who can protect it, even if it's just a human."
Desiree blinked in surprise not expecting the King who had "forbidden" her to do such a thing. She smiled and nodded. Her power grew exponentially but neither she nor Danny said anything about it. The halfa would not undo that wish after all.
In New Jersey, Thomas and Martha Wayne were celebrating the birth of their son. Neither of them noticed the spark of magic entering the baby, nor the boy's unusually blue eyes. Bruce Wayne, the Ghost King's latest gift to mankind, had been born.
And years later, when the Justice League was formed and everyone was talking to each other, John Constantine looked at the dark knight curiously, wondering if he was aware that he was death's favorite.
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An Unsexy Post About Censorship
Sooo...gumroad is shutting down NSFW content sales because of Stripe and Paypal. This is also why Wishtender has been down as well, if you weren't aware. And why Patreon is also cracking down on anything remotely kinky.
(If you're wondering why your favorite FICTIONAL sexual content isn't allowed on most platforms, it's payment processors.)
Please be extra kind to anyone who works with NSFW content right now, whether it be art, writing, audio, photos or video. Whether it be tasteful erotica, or the kinkiest BDSM porn you can think of, we're all in the crosshairs right now.
And, judging by trends from these past few years, this is only going to get worse.
Support NSFW creators where you can, whether by tipping or buying our content (where you still can) or just helping boost content on sites where algorithms want to drown us out.
Call representatives where you can and complain about payment processors acting as arbiters of what YOU are and aren't allowed to pay for and enjoy.
This may be about porn right now, but censorship of this caliber doesn't just stop with porn. Any transgressive (read: non-conservative) media is fair game.
Fight against it where you can. Support creators where you can.
Art is important. Reflections of our sexuality are important. We don't want a world where people aren't free to make or see the things they love and enjoy.
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