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lackingspace · 2 years

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Lesson in Silence (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Word Count: 3.5K

Summary: If there was one thing in life you wanted it was banality. Unfortunately for you, the force had greater plans, AKA more trauma than necessary in your opinion. Like, it wasn't necessary to make you force sensitive, to have you be on the run, or to eventually have you hide in plain sight as an arms technician for the first order. You could have a cafe or something on a planet no one cared about, out of the whole mess of Jedis and Siths-- if the force had actually cared to ask your opinion. It's just your luck that the force answered to no one. What a deal.

Warnings: nothing yet really.

A/N: Not horror-related, but what I've been working on as of late. Maybe some of you are star wars fans too lol. Like always, too much exposition for my own good.✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 link: Lesson in Silence ✧･ﾟ

Next ch: Lesson 2

Standing outside the sleek turbo-lift of the finalizer had a wave of nostalgia wash over you.

Breath catching in your chest at the unexpectedness of it. Frozen in mid-press, thoughts flew behind your eyes quicker than you could process.

Thank your stars the corridor was empty at the moment, otherwise, you’d have gotten some kind of backlash for standing there like an idiot and delaying someone’s productivity for the day.

Efficiency was essentially the unofficial motto of the first order.

It was such a small thing. A brief flash of a memory long passed and you were back in time. Silly how you hadn’t realized until that moment.

You’d been on these things hundreds of times, thousands really, but today was the day your brain decided to finally make the connection between them and your old master’s ship. Avoidance or stupidity the culprit…Likely a combination of both.

Breath catching, before stuttering out all at once finally helped to get you moving again. Enough to press the call button for the lift, at least. Body mechanically obeying while your mind was a whirlwind.

If someone paid attention they'd see you awkwardly there, stock still, staring at the wall like a droid.

Not that it mattered much, you wouldn't have noticed anyway. The crushing desperation of a mind trying to rip itself back to the present, out of a time long repressed, wouldn't have registered any snide looks sent your way.

Especially when you were tumbling deeper so spectacularly. The appearance of calm– your only saving grace.

There wasn't any rhyme or reason, at least that you could identify, why today was the day your mind decided to register that the panel-facing of the lift resembled that of the ship you'd spent years actively pushing to the darkest fringe of your mind.

Those times felt so distant, more like a dream than a lived memory. It was longer still since you’d thought of your master. The muscles of your chest contracting instinctively at the echoing screams of the past.

You'd killed the memory of her long ago, but the seemingly innocent resemblance had somehow struck a vital stone in your carefully formed burial foundation.

A decade of construction cracked in an instant. As if a looter had snuck in and dismantled the long forgotten casket, your master was unhinged. Dug up to the forefront of your consciousness.

What would she have thought of you now? Of the life you’d carved out. A twinge of dejection settled in your chest. A venomous reprimand already whispering of how weak your mind was to crumble against a turbo-lift panel of all things.

Hair raised against the nape of your neck for the veracity of her voice. You swore a puff of breath had brushed the shell of your ear. But hers had never been a spirit you'd seen.

Thank your stars for that.

If someone had warned your adolescent self that you'd find a safe haven within the first order? Well, you'd have rolled your eyes. That wasn't in the sabacc deck for you.

Safety? Laughable. Being in the first order? Maybe. Infiltration happened regularly. Master probably would have ordered it at some point.

Nowhere was safe. That was the first and last lesson she had taught.

Safety was a lie. A state of mind that hindered perception. On the other hand, instability, uncertainty, danger, those variables were rational. Those kept you alive.

If you’d had more grasp on reality, you would have sighed.

Master really shouldn’t have had children, in hindsight, you couldn’t understand why she’d decided on keeping you. But as the thought occurred, you quickly corrected yourself, you did know.

That tickling in your consciousness, the coercive thing that explained her uncharacteristic decision. The force.

It was always the force. Again, you would have rolled your eyes, if your mind wasn't desperately drowning. Memories and thoughts colliding too quickly to digest.

And yet, thinking of the force was the only buoy in darkness.

Forcing your mind to focus on that reasoning was your only bet to regain any infrastructure. Reshape the fractured edges of her tomb with the thing she so desperately defended.

There wasn’t any other reason for keeping you.

A heart like hers drenched in what she called duty, your preference had been malice, would only bend to the force. A Jedi shadow was fervently loyal to its whims.

The way it pushed and pulled at people’s will– weaving a net of influence seemingly however it pleased. Detectable to a few, but only discernible by the spider who weaved it.

And like a spider, the force's venom was a potent one. If she had a vision, well, that would have been all she wrote. Master was nothing if not adamant in adherence to the force above all.

“Balance” master ingrained "is the force".

A muscle twitched in your stiffened hand, balance, you could feel your heart harden as your own venom seeped back into you. Balance never cared which side you fell on– if you even fell on a side at all.

Frustration simmered in your chest. The futility of the force always had this effect, it was inescapable.

As the Jedi teachings say– it surrounds, is created by, and exists between all living things, binding together all creation. Inconspicuous vagary was your take.

Master reserved a veneration for it that you never saw her display for anything. She'd dedicated her life to it and would eventually die for it. If a woman like her could be a Jedi then you were sure not much separated them from the Sith.

You supposed some might find the force a state of stillness, surrounding, yet shifting. Soft and gentle.

But for you? The force was lively, fluid, flowing, a gentle caress or a crushing tidal wave. Like currents beneath a vast ocean, unseen on the surface, only felt. In your experience blindly trusting in its wild will would have you drown in it.

Screams echoing behind your eyes, master could attest to that.

It was odd, really, how these factions fought for it. Considering how it played out plans using the living, without regard of consent. Constantly seeking “balance”– whatever it deemed that to be, no matter the cost.

Light? Dark? Jedi? Sith? Those in between? Pawns. Everyone. All to be played with and discarded– lives as currency.

You'd seen all sides, vividly experienced the banality and ruthlessness of people, yet still, you found the force cruelest of all.

Although you couldn't speak for others, you were sure your view wasn't status quo.

Master always thought you were pessimistic, but if you’d spoken your perspective, she would have killed you for questioning the code. Maybe you were just bitter after everything.

A scoff forced itself out of you. That was an understatement….but you like to think you were able to see it plainly, rather than trying to fit it into a neat box filled with philosophies you cared little for.

It was, as it had always been and as it would always be, an indifferent regulator that wove its plan into the fabric of existence.

Some might find comfort in its stability….you'd only ever felt burdened by it.

It never asked if you'd wanted to have these abilities, born to be hunted, to serve, to be haunted by it's spirits, or born to a mother that made it clear she was master and nothing more.

That you were a burden to her mission.

A corruption born from a liaison between a Jedi shadow and Sith she needed intel from. Bitter was a flavor you were born with.

There was futility in resistance though. The more you fought against its will, the quicker you were confronted with the inevitable. It was immutable.

The force was its own alignment. And you were made to answer its call.

For as burdened by it as you were, there wasn't much else to do but listen. Cutting yourself completely off was a luxury you'd never managed. Only ever to blunt its tether on you at best.

Master said you related to it differently than most. That sight like yours was exceedingly rare and had the order not fallen, the seers would have taken you.

Visions didn't just come through dreams or meditations. You could be walking along minding your own business and bam, vision of some event you had no business seeing.

Past, present, future? You didn't care to find out.

Other times things would echo off objects or people. Those were the most inconvenient, but by far the most distracting were the spirits wandering around.

They were visible to others sometimes, but you'd see them regularly. For all your malice of the force, the ghosts wandering around were your biggest comforts these days.

Doubt clouded your mind that the Jedi would have allowed you to join.

You made a poor Padawan.

Questioned everything, were too emotional, or not emotional enough. Maybe seeing long-dead masters would have made them overlook your flaws.

The shadows would have taken you though-- Become like your master. A shudder ran down your spine as nausea settled in the pit of your stomach. You'd had enough of shadows for a lifetime.

Your master's mission, the one you’d been born into by extension, was to seek and destroy the Sith.

Relics, artifacts, members– all traces within the galaxy. As so, avoiding Sith detection was imperative.

That at least was the most useful thing she'd ever done for you.

Paranoia paid off in allowing you to settle right beneath the biggest threat to your life– and you'd never felt safer.

She’d gone through great lengths to teach you mastery over suppressing your trace force signature. A useful skill you were happy to have had beaten into you in hindsight.

You wondered if she'd be abhorred or impressed with your current position...you'd bet money on abhorred. Disappointment mixing with the nausea made for an unsettled stomach.

You'd been on your way to the caf, but suddenly dinner wasn't sounding that appealing.

She wasn’t here to judge though. You were still alive, surviving; she wasn’t. That's what mattered.

You hoped she would have understood…but you knew she never would.

Movement was returning to your body as your breathing evened out and your eyes regained focus. Rolling your shoulders to relax the stiffened muscles as you felt your mind turn to more recent events.

How you’d come to be where you were.

The fabricated identity, forging your credentials and falling into life as a regular on-base arms technician was incredibly easy. Master had deep connections, and you were lucky to have the contacts.

The first order had vetted you, sure, but your contact was good. So there you laid, hidden, in the belly of the beast, working away, and surprisingly enjoyed the job.

Arms technician came naturally, it was similar to things you’d grown up doing. Building things, breaking them down, creating modifications, keeping things in top performance. It didn’t put you too high up in rank, or in close proximity to officials too often.

It was only when you had to deliver a report after facilitating a deal– the current arms master hated negotiating and designated you as the lead for those off-base talks, unless it was one of his personal contacts.

You were more than happy to fill in for your boss, just hated having to file your report to General Hux after. But you could live with seeing his smarmy arrogant face for 10 minutes here and there.

The job didn't get boring either. Often, you were floated out to help check and repair the weapons of the ships, troopers, or officials when the base weapons were fully functional.

Early on, you’d taken creative liberties by adding modifications for people youd come to like.

The arms master hadn't been happy when he'd found unregulated modifications within some of the trooper’s equipment, but with the efficiency and upgrade potential, he gave you the access code to the back workshop.

Surprisingly, he’d sprouted something about it only being sanctioned as strict R&D for the caus– his surface thoughts betraying he enjoyed the artistry behind it, lacking the propaganda. He was a decent man.

There were dangers that came with being here, of course. Especially once you were the known go-to for prototype modification requests.

Luckily, it hadn't gained the upper most command's attention. or if it had they let it go. As long as it benefited the order they likely didn't care. Hux never cared what technicians did in their free time as long as it didn't hamper progress.

Master had never been nurturing in the traditional sense, her lessons were harsh, thorough, and cold. They served a purpose and saved your life countless times.

A well utilized lesson had been; If you're good at something benign, display it, don't hide it. Give them something to focus on and create affability to blend in. Make yourself integral to the operation, so they have less of a reason to question you.

When higher-ranking officials happened to occasionally request a modification, you didn't bat an eye, they weren't who you were hiding from and had no reason to think of you as soon as they retrieved their weapons.

Force users on the other hand? Good thing they were few and far between, but when they happened to be close? Those were the moments you hated.

Feeling rage waft down from some unreachable area on the ship? The cold dread that wafted off the officers when the commander or knights were spotted? Those made your heart clench.

Hiding in plain sight had been the smart decision. It was the only thing that had saved you in the past and hadn't failed you here yet.

Master had been explicit, the Sith, or those aligned with it, would kill you if they felt your presence. You weren't one to ignore your master, alway led to pain.

However, the force spirit determinedly following you since you woke up this morning was adamantly arguing for the the Commander.

"They wouldn't do that, Padawan."

You’d just finished your shift before stepping up to the lift doors that had your brain reboot like the cannon housing you’d just finished calibrating. It’d been giving some power differential readings that were off, but it was a quick fix.

That wasn't exactly the best time to converse with the persistent spectator.

As you glanced at him now, the master was looking away nonchalantly. Annoyance twisted your insides as you highly suspected he was playing a heavy influence on your sudden flashbacks.

People had started to flood the corridor, shift change was happening, leaving some to stand around chatting while others rushed about.

The slow curling smirk spreading onto the ghost's face as if in response to your speculation had the already there annoyance spike into anger.

From a young age, you'd easily chatted with the spirits, the force wanted you to see and so you saw.

They were just there whether you liked it or not, so why not learn something? Or just keep yourself from boredom. Company was a rare commodity. With close proximity, the master could read your thoughts without your need for projection.

Regardless, it wasn't the time to force up old memories and make your presence more noticeable– the knights were all here.

You didn't need to hear the gossip to confirm, the shift they caused was good enough, even as limited as you were– you could still feel the press of their presence.

The danger buried in your memories wasn’t just resentment, but more that you may accidentally project, or even more worrying, if someone happened to see into your mind. That’d be damning.

Who knows why they were here?

It happened every few cycles or so. They'd all gather, probably convening with their master commander on some complex plan that you were very happy to have no knowledge of.

They usually left as quick as they’d come. This time would be no different. At least that's what you told yourself. The masters smirk only widened.

Rolling your eyes, you refused to focus on any of it. The danger of slipping into the weave of the force was real. Especially with your mind as unruly as this spirit had made it.

Thinking about them too much could have you poke a hole in the intricate gossamer concealment you'd built for yourself. You had to remain a breeze against the stream of the force.

Unnoticeable and untraceable.

Otherwise, they'd find you, corner you, and execute the great task they roamed the galaxy for– conversion or die.

Barbaric, but a part of you admired their efficacy. They were the only threat you truly cared about.

The business between the first order and rebels didn't really hold any interest to you. It's just politics. Given an actual choice, you were never really a joiner.

The knights wouldn't accept that answer. And you didn't have a death wish. So, here you were. Brain rebooting and all. Today had felt off and maybe this was the reason for it?

The will of the force at work, currently in the shape of an annoying ghost– emphasis on the annoying bit.

Judging by the frown, he’d heard that.

Snapping back to reality as the transport opened to an empty space. Sighing relief, you walked in before punching the button to take you to the rec floor. Doors slinked shut and the lift was off.

Privacy was rare here. You weren't high rank, didn't want to be; that meant shared quarters– showers too. It didn't bother you much. The constant buzz kept you on edge. Never able to relax enough to fall into the force.

"You shouldn't worry so much, youngling,"

Side eyeing the master with slight confusion before you realized he was referring to your earlier thoughts on the knights. Ignoring the comment as you could feel the slowing of the lift, before it came to a stop.

Not your floor– like always, privacy never lasted.

Exhaling slightly more than necessary was the only reaction you had to the master. He'd been making off hand comments like that all day. The spirit had some sort of mission and he wasn’t easily swayed.

Staring ahead as you thought, whatever you think, I disagree. The knights absolutely would. They'd have no sympathy for someone connected to a Jedi. However unwilling or uncontrolled.

They'd kill you even with your association to the first order. Neither the knights or their commander would show mercy.

"You misunderstand. Kylo Ren would help." That got an undignified snort out of you just as the transport doors hissed open.

You couldn't stop the sarcastic thought back to the master, “Help? Ha, good one. Kylo Ren doesn't know the meaning of the word. He only knows rage and destruction. I should know, I've felt it.” Pushing the thought towards the spirit in your irritation, 'Commander Ren is a kriffing ass.'

The black combat boot that slammed down rang inside your head.

Freezing as the oppressive presence came next. Your chest felt tight and jaw clenched, but you steeled yourself. Locking your gaze forward to the single button lit that would take you to your floor, there was no need to say anything.

Straightening up as if you were just trying to stay formal next to the Commander, but it allowed you to take a deeper calming breath.

A button lit up, much higher than where you were stopping, without his physical movement.

Such an unnecessary use of the force made you want to roll your eyes. Lazy bastard. The turbo-lift buzzed as it started its ascent.

The space had seemed so expansive before, but now it was cramped and smothering.

Seeing him or a knight down a hall wasn't out of the ordinary. Even being in the hanger when they were boarding a ship had happened. But this? Being almost sandwiched against him? Never.

It was never the most pleasant to be around them, but nothing came of it then. You mentally reassured yourself that even with the new proximity, nothing would come of it now.

You could have left before the doors closed- but that'd draw too much attention, staying though...Well, you couldn't conceal your surface thoughts.

That'd be too jarring if he felt like dipping in and felt a hole where your thoughts should be– a rookie mistake.

What made your heart clench was the possibility that the commander had already been scanning for any projected thoughts. You had pushed the thought close to projecting in your annoyance, usually that wouldn't have been a problem, but with how close he was, he could have picked it up.

That left a bloom of embarrassment in your chest. You weren't a coward though and wouldn't be one now.

You'd wait for your floor, it was almost there anyway.

Silence was something you generally enjoyed, rare as it was, but standing next to him? It was anything but silent. An unpleasantly buzzing around your skull-- a high-pitched ringing in your ears. But thankfully, the inertia slowed again as your stop came.

The doors slid open bringing a lightness to the stifling pressure of the transport.

“You're more important to the knights than you know.” The voice of the pesky master pierced your calm.

At that moment you wanted to scream at the top of your lungs, lash out, something.The spirit, the force, whichever chose the wrong moment to fuck with you.

If the Commander was listening, he'd pick up the sage's words from the spirit itself or the impression of them rolling off you.

Whoever this spirit was like to assume a lot about nothing. You were no one. Not to them. Not to the man looming over you. Nothing special. You weren't looking to be important to the people in power. People in general really.

You just wanted to keep breathing…and maybe have a hot bath once in a while.

The slow tilting of the commander's head had his gaze assault your form.

The hairs on your arm raised as you forced your frozen legs to thaw. To actually move before the doors slid shut and trapped you here any longer. Too much energy would draw his attention, but too little was just as bad.

There was nothing exchanged between you, there didn't need to be. Stepping into the corridor had your buzzing nerves calm slightly. The doors shutting was even better. A deep calming breath helped settle the unease. Starting in the direction of your shared quarters had your legs feel less tense.

Then everything tensed at the brush against your psyche.

Fuck.

#kylo ren #kylo fanfic #kylo x reader #kyloren #star wars #knights of ren #star wars fanfiction #not horror #not slasher #oh well #its still my writing #so its gonna be dark #lol

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inkskinned · 11 months

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at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.

#every time someones like ''AI will replace u" im like. u will have to fucking KILL ME #there is no replacement here bc i am not filling a position. i am just writing #and the writing is what i need to be doing #writeblr #this probably doesn't make sense bc its sooo frustrating i rarely speak it the way i want to #edited for the typo wrote it and then was late to a meeting lol #i love u people who mention my typos genuinely bc i don't always catch them!!!! :) it is doing me a genuine favor!!!#my friend says i should tell you ''thank you beta editors'' but i don't know what that means #i made her promise it isn't a wolf fanfiction thing. so if it IS a wolf thing she is DEAD to me (just kidding i love her)#hey PS PS PS ??? if ur reading this thinking what it's saying is ''i am financially capable of losing this'' ur reading it wrong #i write for free. i always have. i have worked 5-7 jobs at once to make ends meet.#i did not grow up with access or money. i did not grow up with connections or like some kind of excuse #i grew up and worked my fucking ASS OFF. and i STILL!!! wrote!!! on the side!!! because i didn't know how not to!!!#i do not write for money!!!! i write because i fuckken NEED TO #i could be in the fucking desert i could be in the fuckken tundra i could be in total darkness #and i would still be writing pretentious angsty poetry about it #im not in any way saying it's a good thing. i'm not in any way implying that they're NOT tryna kill us #i'm saying. you could take away our jobs and we could go hungry and we could suffer #and from that suffering (if i know us) we'd still fuckin make art.#i would LOVE to be able to make money doing this! i never have been able to. but i don't NEED to. i will find a way to make my life work #even if it means being miserable #but i will not give up this thing. for the whole world.

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umblrspectrum · 1 month

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i love learning cursive just to write text for exactly one character

#fun umbral lore. i can barely read cursive #if you want to hide anything from me then write it in cursive and i will literally never be able to read it #or write it. i had to google cursive text generator and copy it for this #ill settle on textbox designs also eventually #god its been so long since i've drawn the manor gang i think #saw this post and i immediately thought “cyn”#it has nothing to do with her being my number 1 blorbo. bite me #murder drones #art #murder drones n #murder drones v #murder drones j #murder drones cyn #serial designation n #serial designation j #serial designation v #they're so gay also they blushed immediately after this and made out probably im still torn between like 5 different ships #curse you fanfics for putting these ideas in my head

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bluerosefox · 9 months

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Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #blue rambles #crossover #writing ideas #random idea #danny phantom dc #basicly Danny is sent on a mission by CW #he wakes up in the DC version of himself in the pits after being killed and Talia tossing him in #he was created by Talia since shes head of the LOA now and needs her own heir #but she once again wants Bruce's bloodline in it so she used some leftover dna she still had #so no one knows Danny was created until he left about a year later #danny has his ghost powers since he took a dip in the pits #but had to relearn some control and kept it secret #he knows his mom would see it as 'the pits granted my heir its powers.' mindset #so hes been on the run #and didnt wanna go to Gotham cause... his dad dresses as a gaint bat #and dont get him started on the rest of the batfam #he doesnt wanna be an assassin or a crime fighting furry #in case some people didnt get it. the words being spoken happen when Danny is running all across Gotham away from those after him #guess who said what lol #i want danny to be completely independent and trying to take care of himself tbh #but hes still baby to everyone else #talia is slowy becoming a little unhinged due to being the Demon Head now #maybe due to the stress of it all? or maybe due to a curse? idk

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tubbytarchia · 3 months

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Missed drawing these two too

Bonuses

#rendoc #still thinking about them a lot #always #hermitshipping #sorry for the weird empty area in the first one. It was my attempt to make it take up less of people's timelines #this art is so embarrassing lol but man I like when Doc's drawn as a big goat man I have no defense I plead the fifth #or well at least it becomes embarrassing when its. shippy #whatever Tumblr people are usually cool so here goes!!#I am 99% a fluff and hurt/comfort person. Idc how frisky these guys get in fanon all I can ever think of is fluff sorry #Also contemplated implementing Doc's accent into the dialogue but I am forever paranoid of offending someone lol #idk how to write accents etc but you guys will make it sound fine in your heads I'm sure #hermitblr #tubby art

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theloveinc · 2 months

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mating press is so objectively ugly ... embarrassing

#why was i looking this up on images and ninja mutant turtle inc*st was like the fourth image??? ummmmm ok #anyway it's still happening i just dont like thinking abt what it looks like from far away #i prefer it when its not so......... x shaped? i guess #i like it better when it's more... ankles by ears man is kneeling #IM JUST SAYING #ive gravitated back to my weird toji + kids au lmaooo #cuz i made a cake today and it got me thinking abt it #when will i write something of substance please #caitie blabs

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

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Feelings Thawed

Character; Cater Diamond

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, pining, ice skating (to various degrees of success)

Word Count; 650+

Author's Note; This is a present/thank you to my mutual @i-like-forgs. I hope you enjoy this ice skating scene with Cater, and that you get to skate soon!

As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The brisk wind bit at your nose, and you pulled up your scarf, trying to keep away the offending wind. Around you it was a winter wonderland, all made possible in the temperate conditions thanks to Cater, who was filming you skating around on the frozen pond’s surface.

“You know,” you hollered, making sure that you caught his attention, “you should join me! It’s fun!” You came to a stop by the pond’s edge, where Cater was standing with a large thermos.

Cater just shot you a wink, handing you the thermos. “This is for you though, silly!”

He was deflecting, you could tell; behind that bright and cheery smile that he always seemed to wear around others, you knew when there was something off with Cater. You accepted the thermos though, and took a sip of the spicy apple cider, still piping hot.

You gave him a look and pulled lightly on his coat sleeve. “Yes, but it’s more fun with others, come on Cater!” You stepped back onto the ice, and slowly skated near him, waiting with an eager smile.

He looked at you, and then back at the ice, but he stayed standing in the light snow, shooting you that smile. “But I can’t take photos if I’m out there with you!” He scratched at the back of his neck.

Liar. “Cater,” you looped back around and stepped onto the bank, balancing on your skates, “do you not know how to skate?”

Cater’s smile turned sheepish, and his ‘ahahaha, looks like my gig is up’ chuckle made its appearance. He had been found out. “Never got the chance to,” he hid his face slightly in his scarf, either to keep the cold at bay or to hide that his cheeks were turning pink. “So I’d just slow ya down.”

You took his hand into yours, “Well, I could teach you if you wanted. Just a warning though, you’re gonna fall on your butt a lot, might get a few bruises.”

Cater looked down at your entwined hands. Mittens and gloves separated your skin from touching one another, but Cater could swear that he could feel the sensation nonetheless through the layers of fabric.

“You would? Even if I pull you down with me?”

The last question wasn’t just about the ice skating; Cater didn’t want to force you to do anything that you didn’t want to… and that included being his friend. His heart seemed to whisper stronger emotions though, but he didn’t want to ruin what the two of you had.

You walked him out to the ice, and the both of you swiftly fell down on the ice, hard. But you just laughed and got right back up again, “Well, we did just fall. There isn’t anything scary about falling down; yes it stings and might leave a gnarly bruise, but in order to move forward we have to fall and get back up. So yes, is what I guess I’m saying.”

Cater looked up at you, the sun illuminating you and the snow glittered behind you. You were holding your hand out again, waiting for him. And Cater took your hand.

It took him a while to get the hang of it, and he fell down quite a bit, but every time he fell down you helped him back up. And by the time that the sun was setting in the west, the both of you were cold, and both were going to wake up tomorrow with some bruises. It was fun though, which is all that mattered… but that whisper in Cater’s heart was by now singing, and maybe he would listen to it, but for now, he was happy with how the way things were, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world, especially with how much you had smiled today. Your smile and knowing that you had fun with him was enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Tags; @eynnwwyjth, @ithseem, @krenenbaker, @silvers-numberonefan, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @xxoomiii

#twst #twst x reader #twst x gn reader #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland x gn reader #cater diamon #cater diamond x reader #cater diamond x gn reader #i decided to let you decide how reader feels about cater since it allows for various possibilities #also decided to go with cater since i only had the dorm headcanons with him; and he deserved his own drabble #i hope you like this when you get the chance to read it ryo ^v^#thank you for your support; even if it does give me a mini stroke when you break my tumblr notifications #decided for spicy apple cider as its something i can see cater liking (not super sweet but still warm to keep you warm in the cold)#this is also a thank you for crashing a mutuals wedding and stopping a union; i used my writing as enticement to stop it <3 #let's see how the cater simps react to this; hoping you guys enjoy!

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newttxt · 1 month

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and thats a wrapppppppp!!

from the 10th and final chapter of utilities included

masterpost

#one piece #zosan #sanji #zoro #luffy #trafalgar law #utilities included #I DID IT. BREE DID IT. WE DID IT!!#i cannot believe i got all ten pages done on time. i feel ridiculous #AND THIS OFFICIALLY MARKS THE CONCLUSION of me drawing a comic a week for ten weeks. I HAVE LIKE. 45 PAGES OF COMICS FROM THIS #i definitely gotta compile em into a little pdf #wow #bree. if u see this. thank you. its been an honor to work on this with you.#i love how visual ur writing is to me. and i look forward to ur next project and how i can stick my horrible little fingers all over it #man. im just so proud. might still be unemployed #but im making art with a friend!

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amberluvsbugs · 4 months

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Recovery

I've been having a lot of brain rot over @xitsensunmoon vampire AU. One mainly of how Moon would be if Y/n came home one day very weak from the blood they had to give? Knowing that he does not show his tender feelings behind his teasing gestures.

Short Drabble on this idea is down below.

Moon has always been a bit of a teasing, cocky, gremlin most of the time, always pushing you and just being the chaotic character that he is. Despite him being such a tease, he does care about you. Especially when it comes to your health. Knowing that you push yourself so far for giving blood to those in need, including the two vampires that now reside with you in secrecy, it does worry them at times with how tired you are when you finally return home from work.

One particular day, however, you push yourself a little too far. Giving more blood than you should have. But despite your health, you knew it would save so many people in the long run. “I’m home.” You state out begrudgingly before turning and weakly closing the door behind you. Your arms feel like lead and are a struggle to lift.

Moon made his way over to you, his eyes boring into you as he grinned his sharp fanged teeth at you before stopping short. His features quickly changing into something a bit more of an underlying sense of concern as he studied you with his bright red eyes, brows slightly furrowed. “What? Is there something wrong?” You raised a brow. “You look terrible.” Moon spoke out.

“Well yeah, I just got back from the doctors, you know how the deal is.” You shrug out. “You look worse than the other days.” Moon gives deeply. You let out an annoyed sigh. “Moon I don't have time for your snarky remarks right now. I have shit to do and I don't need-” As you started to make your way around Moon, your balance started to drift and suddenly felt a sudden weakness in your legs. Dark spots started covering your sight as things started to drift lower, and lower and lower. Where you getting shorter than Moon? Your mind fuzzy and not catching up with what was exactly happening. Something moved on the edge of your vision, you saw a flash of blue and your body jerked slightly. You felt something from under your arms. When the dark spots in your sight started to disappear, you could finally see what happened in your daze. Moon’s slender hands were under you before you could fully hit the ground and risk any more damage. His expression was now one of wide-eyed worry as he looked over you. His eyes flit from your face to your chest, then back. His smile was no longer present as it was now in a concerned frown while his stature easily loomed over you in his squatted position. Moon had rushed over to catch you.

You shifted a bit by a means to sit up, looking anywhere but Moon’s face as he still carefully held you. “Sorry, ‘m fine. It’s just a sleep spell that caught me off guard is all.” You mumbled out. There was a beat of stillness before Moon moved one of his hands to drift down your arm. You tensed as he gently pressed your wrist. He was being mindful of his claws as he pressed his thumb to the pulse point on your wrist to feel the thump of your now weak life force. “You pushed yourself too far. You are weak.” Moon softly scolds you. You let out a huff at this, weakly tugging your hand away from his grasp. He was right but this was normal for you. You just went only a touch overboard it’s nothing serious. Moon sighed and moved to bring his hands back under you to pick you off the ground. Your side pressing to Moon as one hand wrapped under your back and the other under your legs, holding you in a signature bridal style as his long cape dragged with him in his movements. “Wh- what are you doing..?” You tensed at the close contact as he moved to walk over to the living room. “Carrying you.” “You know I can walk Moon-” “Do you want to have another sleep spell and fall again?” He looked at you with a sharp expression in his red eyes. “….No.” You grumbled out and begrudgingly looked away. You hated how he had a good point. “But I need to clean n’ finish up some things.” You tried to wiggle out of his grasp but his arms easily held you firm. Your whole body was just so difficult to move. “Later.” Moon flatly stated before moving over to the couch and carefully lowering you down on it. “You need to recover and rest.” You grumbled and your body simply melted to the couch. You were still trying to move to get up but even your body just wasn't listening while you laid down. “You're so stubborn.” Moon chuckled slightly in a tease. He boops you with a clawed finger on your nose as he bends over you with his face cocked to the side. Softly amused by your antics while he sharply grins at you. “And you're a prick.” You deadpan. He smiles cheekily at you before looking over and walking out of your sight. His footsteps and the bells he adorns fading out as he goes to get something. Your eyes already threatening to close in waves of tiredness. God, you had stuff to do, why was your body like this?

The jingle of bells prompts Moon returning back to where you were. He lays a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, being mindful of his claws as he quietly sits in front of your weak form on the side of the couch. Your eyes opened slightly at the contact and seeing him. His head on level with your own in this position while his fluffy cape draped over the back of him. “Here…Drink.” He urges as brings a glass of water over to you. His other hand helps guide you to sit up. You gingerly take the glass and sip the water down while Moon continues to stare at you with his sharp red eyes. Flitting from your face to your chest, and then back again. Concern laced in his features. Once satisfied and swallowing the last of your water, you handed the now empty glass back to him. “Thank you.” You quietly give. He hums in acknowledgment as he sets the glass on the ground beside the couch before you laid back down. Shifting one of the pillows that was on the couch to be under your head. Moon's head now resting on the couch on level and particularly close with your own face, watching you with an unreadable furrowed expression. His clawed hands rested under his faceplate as if pouting or being hesitant over something. It was starting to worry you now. “What's up wit’ you, I don't think I’ve ever seen you like this before.” You questioned sluggishly. Moon looked away slightly as his brows furrowed more, grumbling a bit as his fingers tensed a bit in the cushion. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

He releases a huff in slight embarrassment. “I’m worried…about you.” Concern filling his answer. “You’re… worried about me?” Your sleepy brain was trying to process his answer. He nods once.

“Why? Imma be fine.” You state as if it was nothing but a simple thing. Moon eyes looks back at you for a few beats before moving slightly closer to you. Sliding one of his slender hands to be under the pillow you lay on for more support and brought his other free hand to grasp one of your own that was lying on the couch between you and Moon. His slow and careful grasp engulfing it entirely as he looks back at you once more. One of his fingers pressing to your pulse point once more.

“You need to take better care of yourself….You push yourself too hard.”

You sigh sleepily. “I know Moonie… But every time I do this, I help so many others. You both included. Don’ want you guys to starve.” You mumble as you blink heavily.

“You are just as important, Starlight.” Moon whispers as his concerned eyes flit around your face once more. He gently released his hand that held your own and brought a careful index claw up to tuck a strand of hair away from your face. “Please promise me you won’t push yourself like this again.” He softly asks you.

“Mmmmnnnn..” You mumble out, your brain starting to quickly go into sleep mode.

Moon’s bell on his hat rings softly when he leans his face closer to you, the fluff of his hat brushing up on you with how close he is. “Please.”

“Mmmm okay, okay…” You managed to get out sluggishly.

Moon lets out a huff in relief before looking over and reaching for a blanket that was folded on the other side of the couch. Draping it over your small form before looking over you again.

Letting out another soft sigh he leaned in and nuzzled his faceplate onto your forehead. His arm wrapped around your torso.

“Don’t do it again or you will regret it.” He scolds lightly.

“I woonnnttt.” You drawl out. Defeated in the exhaustion and Moon’s hold on you.

Moon's presence holds you softly and securely as sleep washes over you in seconds. You had seriously pushed yourself too far today as your pulse was just barely thumping under Moon’s touch. He does not have a desire to lose you. You mean too much to both him and Sun.

Moon’s form stays by your side as you sleep deeply, his eyes closed as his faceplate nuzzles you. Whether it be in content or by means of comfort, he lets out quiet deep purrs to try and aid in your recovery. Still paying close attention to your pulse as he rests with you on the couch as if it could stop at any moment.

#Sorry if you see mistakes in my writing I'm still leARNING #Help im not normal over the vampire au #It has me in its clutches #Fnaf moon #Fnaf #fnaf dca #Writing #lighting

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