#finally. writing

[minkshame]

PowerEdd Lovesquare AU - Prologue

Word Count: 4012

On ao3

“Tom, why aren’t you more worried…?” Matt asked, wringing his hands. He glanced his wide gaze at his no-eyed housemate with confusion. Tom was simply shrugging.

They both sat on the sofa waiting for Edd to wake up. The house felt unusually quiet and tense. The TV did provide some static background noise but Matt tuned it out.

“Edd’s tough,” Was Tom’s very simple and straightforward answer. “He’ll be alright.”

Matt imagined he probably broke some bones. He fell off the roof while repairing the satellite, for Joe's sake! Joe? Larry? Matt didn’t know the saying very well.

While he hadn’t been witness to Edd’s injury, both of them had heard the commotion. There had to be some consequence.

Though, they’re all pretty immune to those.

“When he’s awake we’ll know if it’s serious,” Tom commented as he leaned back on the cushion. “Depending on how loud he complains.”

Matt smiled at that. It was all too true.

Then, muffled from the next room, Edd screamed. A loud crash and thump followed. Tom and Matt scrambled up from their seats and threw Edd’s door open.

“Edd?!” Matt exclaimed, rushing into the room in a flurry. He was worried. He didn’t know why. He usually wouldn’t care all that much.

Edd was stood there frozen in place looking a bit shell-shocked. He seemed unharmed. He stared at his feet on the ground like he couldn’t believe they were there. He held his hands out in front of him, balling them into fists.

“I’m okay,” the brunet muttered. “I’m fine. I’m very normal.” He started to shake his head and smile too tightly. Matt cocked his head and frowned.

“Nothing broken?” Tom asked casually. Edd shook his head.

“I’m fine. Just… dizzy.” He blinked his eyes quickly and darted them around the room.

“Told you,” Matt felt a soft nudge from Tom. “He’s a tough one.” He threw up a hand to wave as he turned to leave the room. “Call us if you need something. We won’t rush.”

“Gee… thanks.” Edd rolled his eyes. Matt lingered in the room, looking unsure. He glanced at Edd with furrowed brows. “Uh, Matt? Where you at, mate?”

“In your room,” The redhead answered simply. He hesitated. “You’re sure you’re alright?” Something felt weird. Off. The room had a strange energy. The air felt like how it would before a thunderstorm.

“Perfectly fine.” Edd replied and rolled his eyes again. He cracked his knuckles and put his hands in his pockets. His feet shuffled on the carpet. His gaze darted to the window, then back. He smiled.

“Why did you yell so loudly?” Matt blurted, feeling he had to ask. It would eat at him otherwise. Matt wrung his hands once more.

“Oh.” Edd looked caught off guard by the question as he hesitated. He continued to glance at his bedroom window as if it was an escape. “I… thought I was still falling.”

“Off the roof?”

“Yeah.”

It made sense… sort of. It would be disorienting to fall and then wake up somewhere new. If it were him, he would be terrified.

Matt managed a smile after a moment even though something still wasn’t sitting right with him. “Alright… feel better soon!”

“Thanks.”

Matt nodded, and exited the room with that strangeness becoming a lingering weight on his mind.

Oh well. He’d probably forget it tomorrow! Certainly.

___________________________________________________________

Oh shit.

That’s his best friend on TV.

That’s his best friend being slammed into a building. On TV.

Tom sits up straight on the couch and the remote falls from his hand. He’d been mindlessly channel surfing without much preference for what to watch, and the news broadcast flashed by.

His blood had run cold. He saw what he thought he saw, right?

There’s some sort of battle going on downtown. There’s a shot from a news helicopter. The camera struggles to keep the strange sight in frame.

Two super-powered individuals with a score to settle, it seems. And Tom isn’t stupid. He recognises Edd immediately. His stupid round face and swept bangs are not hidden by a pathetic piece of cloth over his eyes.

Sure, said eyes glowed green when he snarled, wiped his cheek and kicked off the side of the wall he’d just destroyed, but it’s still Edd.

Oh shit.

“Tom! Don’t be careless!” Matt points to the remote on the carpet. “Pick up your mess!”

“You’re seeing this, right?” Tom ignores his whining words and points at the screen.

“What?” Matt pouts his lip and narrows his eyes at the telly. “Oh. Superhero fights. New film?”

Tom runs a hand over his face. No time for this. He gets himself up from the sofa. Haven’t felt this motivated in years.

“I’m going on a walk.”

He grabs the keys to Edd’s car from their hook.

“Oh! Okay.” Matt smiles, none the wiser. “Are you really not going to pick up the remote?”

“Nope.” Tom’s already halfway out the door, letting it slam unceremoniously behind him.

He hasn’t driven since his DUI, but he floors it anyway. If he gets there in time, they won’t have gone far.

And Edd needs help.

The action is still in full swing when he parks the car. Edd and his opponent swirl around each other in the air, exchanging blows.

Tom looks up into the sky, shielding his eyesockets from the sun. Not that it’s very bright, it’s fucking. England. The clouds make everything grey. Which is why the neon streaks of green painting the air look extra saturated. Tom glances around, seeing that he is the only civilian in the general area. Everyone else has fled. Well, duh.

Who is Edd fighting? They’re moving far too quickly for him to catch a glance of the foe. Tom hoists himself on top of Edd’s car and squints.

The other question he has to ask— how did Edd manage to obtain the ability to fly? Like… What's up with that?

Why wouldn’t he tell Tom about it?

Edd gets pushed again and soars backwards. This momentary pause lets Tom catch a glance at the other superpowered individual.

Oh, that’s definitely Eduardo. It’s totally obvious. Even from this far away Tom can catch his ugly stubble mustache. Damn, he’s kind of jacked. Tom never knew.

Wait… Oh shit. Ohhhh.

The damn roof!

He’d sent Edd up to fix the telly signal about two weeks ago. It was a simple task, yet the brunet had then fallen off said roof and then complained about Eduardo bothering him. He’d grumbled that the neighbour had an advanced satellite that got signals from space. Something about it being radioactive. Tom had not thought much of it at the time. Just Edd being Edd.

But now… the way Eduardo’s hair is literally glowing green makes Tom think the event might be connected to all this in some way. He has to wonder again— why didn’t Edd say anything about all this? He’d acted like it was just a little accident and moved on. Clearly, it was more.

Oh shit. Again.

Tom watches in horror as Eduardo grabs Edd once more and dive bombs towards the ground like a meteor. His strength drives a hole in the asphalt with a thunderous crack, and Edd lays in the crater underneath his enemy. Dust and debris billow everywhere. Eduardo then kneels down and lays blow after blow to the brunet’s face. Hearing Edd’s grunts of pain makes Tom’s blood boil.

He’s really got some kind of vendetta.

Tom is done watching. Time to step in. Because he is pissed off. His digs his nails into his palms. His skin ripples. His form shifts.

He’s a little out of practice, but after a few minutes of mental struggle, Tom is grabbing the neighbour in a giant powerful claw. He lifts Eduardo above his head.

Edd, still sprawled on the ground, gapes up at him with his jaw dropped in terror. He has nothing to fear, but Tom gets it. It’s not every day that you see a towering demon with one hollow eye and giant curling purple horns protruding from its head. Tom hasn’t fully seen himself like this in a mirror but he knows it’s slightly horrific. He tends to emit a strange purple smoke and growl and gurgle in an unpleasant way.

Anyway, Tom chucks the fiend away across the street, and the villain crashes face first into a building, making an Eduardo shaped dent in the bricks. Edd tentatively sits up and worriedly gazes at him, seemingly waiting for his turn.

Tom shows him there is nothing to fear by sitting on his hind quarters with a loud thundering crash. Edd bounces off the ground with the force. His eyes go wide.

The superhero rises up, hovering slightly and tilting his head in a perplexed manner. “You’re…” His neon green eyes squint. “Weird.”

Tom would smile but he can’t actually physically do so, right now. Alright, time to revert back to normal and tell Edd he’s a moron. Turn back. Now!

Hm.

Now… Okay now!

Come on.

Nothing?

Damnit.

He’ll have to do this the hard way, then. He sighs exaggeratedly and it comes out like a strangled animal.

Tom points with a shiny purple claw at the red car he parked in the distance. Edd turns his head in the direction and cranes his neck, hovering higher and closer to Tom’s monstrous form.

“What am I looking at?”

Tom blows air out his nostrils. He yoinks Edd out of the air, pinching his hood in two claws. The brunet yelps. Tom ignores him and pads away from the crater and towards the vehicle. He deposits Edd down next to it.

“What the hell? …This is my—“ Edd quickly bites his tongue as he stares at it. “I mean… uh…”

Tom looks at him blankly. He huffs again like the irritated animal he is. Just put the dots together, Edd…

“The keys are inside!” Edd presses his face against the window. He yanks the driver side door open. Thank god it wasn’t locked. “Who the hell…?” He turns to Tom and continues to examine him, suspiciously.

Of course, NOW his body decides that moment that it will cooperate. Tom grunts as his horns recede because damn it hurts like a BITCH.

“Oh shit.” Edd whispers.

Tom cracks his neck. “Yeah. So. Superpowers?”

“…Yeah. Uh…” Edd mumbles and shrugs one shoulder. “You?”

“Demonic thing.”

“Cool, cool.”

They stand awkwardly next to the car.

“Erm… wanna go home and order a pizza?” Edd has switched to his excited grin he gets when he’s thought of a plan. Tom laughs.

“Yeah. Can you fly the car home?”

“Sure can.”

Awesome. Tom hops back in the driver's seat. He gets a free ride.

“Hey…. LOSERS!”

Oh yeah.

Eduardo limps towards the vehicle. Edd steps forwards and brings up his fists. But… their neighbour seems a bit… disarmed.

Blood drips out of his nose and down his chin. Tom can see that a tooth is missing from the top row of his mouth as Eduardo grits his jaw tightly. He huffs and puffs, his shoulders taught and his thick brows furrowed. Tom tenses, ready to climb back out the window and retrigger his transformation.

“YOU SHORTED OUT MY POWERS!” He snarls loudly.

Edd drops his defensive stance. “Wait, really?” He snorts in amusement. Hearing Edd start to laugh makes Tom absolutely lose it, he throws his head back and cracks up.

“It’s NOT FUNNY!” Eduardo spits as his voice cracks. He stomps closer to Edd until they’re practically nose to nose. “Just face it, Edd. You’re in second place.” Edd steps backwards. “I’ll be back.”

With that, Eduardo grumbles off into the street, limping. Tom snickers a little more at his misery.

Edd crosses his arms and sighs. “I have no idea what his problem with me is.”

Tom shrugs and leans his arm out the car window. “Probably the same as whatever issue you’ve got with him.”

“He’s rude!”

“So are you.”

Edd glares at him. Maybe Tom shouldn’t anger a superhuman. Thankfully Edd likes his friends too much and he simply pinches his nose bridge for a moment.

“Anyway… pizza?” Tom rolls his wrist in a beckoning motion. He grins. Edd’s face morphs into an equally beaming smile.

“Yeah!”

——

He isn’t sure how to describe the feeling of returning home. Nostalgia certainly comes close, but… he’s nervous, in a way. Tord wouldn’t say he was eager to come back, but it is about time that he does. There was always an inevitability to this happening. In the end he’s back where he belongs, if a bit begrudgingly. He’ll grin and bear it.

Volunteering his time in the UK’s Army ranks for the past eight years has definitely reshaped him. The training was intense, the work grueling. He moved around, stationed in several unfamiliar cities and even over country lines, doing labour, guarding posts, helping. Always helping, working. Constantly moving. Always on. Never off. Even in sleep he remained on the clock. He kept himself braced for the next command, mission, or task.

Now he is welcomed back into his old home with a grand smile from his best friend. Edd’s hug of greeting is warm and familiar, and Matt is chipper too. They’re both buzzing in excitement about what they can do now that Tord has made his grand return. He expects nothing of Thomas, who gives him not much more than a grunt. Maybe a nod. Works for him.

Tord drops his bags in his old room and can’t believe it is practically untouched. It’s like a time capsule of his younger self, nearly a decade ago, a person who he can barely remember now. One untouched by responsibility, by the changes he’s been through.

He stands in the middle of the carpet, disoriented. The posters are peeling at the corners. His desk chair is askew. There’s a pen on the floor near his desk, like it had been knocked there oh so long ago.

The norski is looking forward to returning to his old projects. He had some parts and blueprints he had never tinkered with, some half finished ideas that lay dormant for years… he’ll get on it soon enough. First, relaxing. Finally.

Tord flops on his bed. The comforter is old, and the same. He closes his eyes and sighs. He listens to the relative silence, just some regular creaking of the house walls, a car passing by outside, and a very quiet bass plucking from down the hall.

He’s…

Freaking out.

It’s just too quiet.

He should be so exhausted. He’s been through strict regimens for EIGHT YEARS. He knows how to fall asleep fast. He knows how to do this.

But in the barracks, he always had an order to follow, inventory to check, a routine to adhere to. He liked that structure— it gave him no time to sit and ponder the meanings of the world at large.

This bed is too soft. The atmosphere is too calm. Where’s the activity? The scrape of boots on dirt? The yelling of the drills?

Tord grips a clump of his hair in his hand and groans.

Everything feels so tight. His shirt is suffocating him. His heart races.

He needs to get to work! A project, right. His old stuff. He’ll work on something… Tord throws his legs over the side of the bed.

He paces over to his desk and finds old notes. Tord grips the papers in his shaking fingers and finds he’s too stressed to really parse through them. Okay. Just. Hold something. He snatches a screwdriver off the wooden surface and turns it over in his palm.

What was he making all those years ago…? Robots? Weapons… his mind is a haze. He tosses the tool back down with a clatter.

Maybe there’s something around the house that needs fixing! He could ask— make himself useful, for sure. That is easy to do and will keep his hands moving…

Tord leaves his room with a purposeful strut. He wonders what everyone else is up to. Tom’s room will be locked shut. Edd will be working on something to post his webpage that he’s been dedicated to for a decade. Matt… who knows.

Tord wanders down the hallway and… Oh. Speak of the ginger. He’s sitting at the kitchen table… reading? That’s odd.

Tord takes a quiet step up behind him and cranes over his shoulder…

“Hi Tord!” Matt glances back over his shoulder. “I thought you were napping.”

How did he manage to hear and identify him so easily? Was he really obvious? Tord freezes mid-step for a moment before cocking a brow. He had learned to be stealthy in the army… was he already losing touch?

He takes another step forward. “Uh… no. Well— I thought about it.” Tord goes to pull out a chair and sit with a creak. “What are you looking at?”

“Oh!” Matt says delightedly. He slides the reading material over. “Some magazines. Gossip stuff.” He shrugs one shoulder half-heartedly.

Oh, that makes more sense. Matt is not patient enough to be a reader. He doesn’t like books. Or films. Or music. He isn’t quiet and contemplative. Instead, he likes things. Objects. Shiny parts. Superficial stuff. Celebrities.

Tord glances down at the centerfold he has open. There’s a big glossy splash page of a man with a sleek mask across his eyes. He is draped in a green cape, his brown hair glows green at the tips, and his glowing green expression radiates sharp determination. He’s certainly green.

Tord stares.

He’s… captivating.

“Who is that…?” Tord hovers a finger towards the open page. Matt follows with his eyes and his brows shoot up.

“Oh! Oh! That’s London’s superhero!” He exclaims. His own slender finger pokes at the large title splash. Tord reads the text and squints.

“...Powdered?” He’s confused. “Like a donut?” Tord glances at Matt for clarification.

Matt blinks at him and then chuckles. “No, silly! It’s PowerEdd.” The ginger nudges the magazine closer so Tord can better read it at a more appropriate angle.

Tord takes a long look, skimming his eyes over the text. His mind quickly starts to piece everything together. It details how this hero has stopped tragic disasters and keeps London feeling safer than ever. It paints quite a dazzling picture of the elusive masked protector. The public seems rather obsessed.

“A superhero…” He murmurs. “That’s new.”

“Very new! He’s only appeared in the last year.” Matt folds his hands together. “He flies around, he pulls people from burning buildings, saves cats from trees, all that rubbish. But it’s not often! Only sometimes. That’s why they’ve done this article on him! He’s so… mysterious.”

Tord continues examining this man with a strange intenseness. The logo across his chest is a sharp lightning bolt. He’s broad shouldered, his chest stretches the grey fabric. He has that cape tied around his neck. His gloves are yellow, a contrast to everything else.

“He protects London?” The norsk asks with some hesitation. From what? What else has transpired while he was away…? He should ask Edd.

“Mmhmm!” Matt nods thoughtfully. “And they rave about it.” The ginger pouts his lip and furrows his brow. Tord is confused.

“What’s wrong with that?” He asks.

Matt shrugs exaggeratedly. “Honestly, as interesting as it all is… well. He’s just not my type!”

Ah. So the public treated this hero as it would any other celebrity. Tord wants to scoff aloud but he holds his tongue. Instead he focuses on what the article says.

PowerEdd secrets! All that he refuses to reveal! Mail us with your thoughts and theories!

It’s all speculation. Guesses about his age, his job, his secret identity. A few sentences gushing about his looks, his physique. Ponderings about if he has a wife. Just gossip. Eyeroll.

The puff piece does provide what powers the hero has. The ones that are known, at least. Tord drinks it in and leans closer. Flight. Strength. Speed. Laser eyes. Energy blasts.

He wonders if there’s more. He wonders if there are… weaknesses. He licks his dry lips.

“Looks like he’s your type!” Matt breaks through his intense focus with a laugh. Tord stiffens.stiffens.

“What?” He shakes his head in a twitchy manner. What a strange notion. He’s just interested in the abilities… just… “That’s a joke, no?”

“Sure,” Matt replies with a little smile, propping his cheek in his hand.

Matt is just teasing him. Tord taps his fingers on the magazine, antsy again. Something is very clearly missing. It’s obvious!

Why hasn’t anyone pointed it out?

This hero, this shining beacon of safety, he…

“Where’s the villain?” He blurts out.

Matt blinks, his little smile dropping away. “Huh?”

Tord gestures at PowerEdd’s portrait— he’s midflight. “A superhero, he has no nemesis? Every great hero has one.”

Matt squints at the page as if it will come to life and answer the question. Tord can see the metaphorical smoke coming out of his ears. “Well… I guess he doesn’t!” The ginger resumes his smile and seems satisfied with his own non-answer.

“Not yet,” Tord mutters darkly, clenching his fists on the table.

“What’d you say?” Matt cocks his head. Why does he hear so well?

“Nothing.”

Tord suppresses his smirk. His hands quiver with anticipation as the idea takes root in the fertile soil of his mind. It grows, it blossoms.

How lonely PowerEdd must be. His job must be fretfully boring.

The army was something like that— Lots of drills, preparations, simulations. Tord and his bunkmates lived for the action that they managed to see, the times they were truly tested. They arose to a challenge when they happened to have it.

PowerEdd looks like he could use something like that. Something to challenge him.

…Or someone to give him one.

Tord stands. His chair scrapes the kitchen floor. “I’ll take that nap now.”

“Huh? Oh, um! Okay…” Matt frowns at him, but the norsk hardly registers it. “I’ll tell you more about PowerEdd next time he’s on the news, alright?”

“Sure,” Tord calls as he is already striding out of the room. His pulse thrums, sharp, restless. The small mental bud is becoming a full blown tree. It teems with life, branches stretching outward, out of control.

It is only natural that PowerEdd find an equal. An opposite.

A villain.

His villain.

It takes three weeks but Tord manages. Sleepless and hungry nights behind him, he is ready. His room and lab are scattered like a warzone with torn blueprints and broken prototypes, and the final iteration has taken its menacing shape. He finally steps back from it all. Tries it on.

It’s done.

His suit is very dark, the only color being red. Green’s complement. Of course. Metal lining his fingers and protecting his chest, weapons woven into the fabric, wires secured to each of his limbs… it’s a straitjacket of firepower. Sleek yet brutal.

His large mask lays dormant on his desk, the piece de reaistance. He spent a large chunk of time programming it just to his liking, and assuring that it would give him a striking, threatening image.

Once he puts it on, there will be no mistaking just what he is.

After all this isolation in his lab he is ready to get out there. He’s done his research— watched every bit of footage of the hero in action and read the countless articles… he’s seen that initally there was some other superpowered individual fighting the green hero… but that person seems to have fled. PowerEdd works alone. He fights nothing.

London has grown too complacent under PowerEdd’s protection.

It’s time to spice life up a little.

It begins now.

Tord slips his mask over his face, his nose slotting into the custom printed shape. The screen flickers to life and all the important readings flicker across his vision.

Introductions can certainly be difficult, but he thinks he’ll enjoy this one.

Ok hero.

Time to meet your villain.

[heartbreakincident]

nothing but respect for our troops (smut writers) but listen. i dont want to be the person to tell you this, but not every character is going to be a dom or a sub. some people. and i know this is hard to hear. but some people do have vanilla sex. and some of those people might even be The Character.

[phanerozoicfossilgardener]

As a writer I need everyone to know that whenever I write "exchanged glances" my intent is this

[ID: A screencap from The Penguins of Madagascar television series. It shows Skipper and Private in a cinderblock room with the head of a stuffed fish visible in the decor. Skipper is carrying a corked test tube of pink glowing liquid. Skipper glances at Private with a single raised eye brow. Private meets his eyes with a blanker expression of possibly raised eyebrows. End ID]

[thebrasspope]

Me, reading my fic drafts: Damn this is pretty good, when's the author gonna finish it?

[aphel1on]

nothinggg better than torturing an emotionally repressed character until every single trauma they've ever refused to process starts spilling uncontrollably out of the cracks. like a matryoshka doll situation of repressed trauma and baby you better believe i'm going in there with a hammer

[creativepromptsforwriting]

subtle acts of love

giving them food without them asking for it

randomly bringing them flowers

holding a door open for them

pulling out their chair for them

guiding them with a gentle hand on the small of their back

making them lunch to take to work with them

fixing their clothes or hair

giving them a massage

talking casually about a shared future

showing them their appreciation for them

waiting at home to say hello when they come in

paying complete attention to them

giving them a casual, but thoughtful compliment

writing them a love letter and hiding it for them to find

showing them something that reminded them of their partner

humming a song to calm them down

giving them a quick kiss whenever they pass each other at home

casual grabbing their hand and swinging it back and forth

remembering something they told them

[willowcrowned]

incredible how much housework you can get done if you take a chance and believe in yourself and also have fifteen other much more pressing responsibilities

[barefeet-only]

Danny and Damian are related, with a twist.

Danny is the son of Talia Al Ghul, however he is NOT the son of Bruce Wayne. Ra’s has had his eyes on various people across the world that have either impressed him or show a unique skill set that he’d like to have. One such person was under the both categories and he got Talia to collect a DNA sample and as a result Danny was born.

This was before Bruce’s time with the League by a few years, but very quickly Danny was not meeting expectations. And by the time Bruce did show up Ra’s had lost all interest in Danny, moving on to better things.

Talia always hated Danny because she was forced to have him with a man who she never liked in the first place. Furthermore, because his skillset was lacking she found that even more reason for her distain. In her eyes, he wasn’t worth even considering her blood.

Danny, knowing that he was doomed if he didn’t make an escape, left the league sometime around when Bruce was moving up the ranks and was making waves within the organization. Perfect timing honestly, any attention he might have had was quickly gone when this prodigy showed up.

Danny escaped the League and went into hiding quickly after, settling on a rural area of the United States after bouncing around countries for a few months. This was mainly because Jasmine Fenton saw a young boy pick pocketing strangers while her family was visiting Chicago and scolded him. Her mother and father saw the boy and also lectured him to which Danny responded it was his only option (he was trying to get this loud family off his back so he could sneak away). Eventually the Fentons decide that if he has nowhere to go he might as well go with us, and Danny decides blending in with a Nuclear Family is the best way to ensure that his peaceful life away from the League stays that way. Oh how little did he know.

Flash forward a few years, Talia, who was visiting Gotham to check on Damian, sees a glimpse of a boy (now man) she thought she had forgotten. Her blood runs cold, if this abomination is in Gotham then her son is likely in danger and she would never let anything happen to Damian.

[mischievous-thunder]

That's the way gays find their multiversal true love

[zephyrchama]

A thin line of table salt adorned the floor in front of your bedroom. You stood behind it and stared at the demons outside of your doorway. They were staring at the salt.

Leviathan laughed. It reminded him of a low-level defense from a tower defense game. "Is that supposed to keep us out? lol."

"Yeah. I think it's working," you said.

Satan put a hand on his hip. As far as he could tell, it was plain old table salt. No magical properties whatsoever. "How so?"

"Well, none of you are crossing it. Clearly, it's having some kind of effect."

Mammon balked. "Obviously, it's because we're respectin' your privacy!" He stood closest to the line, wanting to cross it most of all.

"You're respecting my privacy by... standing right outside my door?"

Mammon opened his mouth to counter, only to come up with nothing. He stood there with his fists clenched. The feather on his belt swayed as he tapped a foot impatiently, causing the nearest salt to shift a little.

The noise annoyed Asmodeus. "Mammon, go walk through the salt."

"Why me!?"

"This is ridiculous." Lucifer crossed his arms. "Clean this up. I don't even want to know how this will damage the floors if you leave it."

"It's not even doing anything," Satan pointed out.

"If it's not doing anything, then one of you should cross it," you suggested.

"Why don't you come out to us?" Belphegor proposed. "There's only one of you, seems more fair."

"Yeah!" Asmodeus took a step away from the salt, careful not to get any on his shoes, and raised his hands. "You can run into my arms if you'd like. I'll be sure to catch you."

Their stubbornness astounded you. "Or... You guys can just admit you don't want to cross this salt."

"It's regular salt." Beelzebub knew exactly what the substance was as soon as he laid eyes on it. Plus, the smell was unmistakable. His claim was irrefutable.

"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Beel. I've seen you eat it many times." You had even taken the bag from the shared kitchen.

"Did you try walking over it?" Leviathan asked. "How are we supposed to cross it if you won't?"

"I don't need to. I'm in my room."

"You should come to our room," Belphegor offered. He was getting tired of standing around.

"Come out this instant," Lucifer ordered.

You thought about it for a whopping two seconds. "I think I'm good. I'll be in my room. If any of you need me, feel free to come in."

You retreated back inside with the rest of the half-empty salt bag. The brothers stared at you with a mix of impatience and disbelief until the wall blocked you from view.

[bluerosefox]

F*ck Forgiveness. I Want Vengeance.

Hmmmm

Another DeadTired idea. And Ghost King Danny with Consort Tim.

Tim dies a bitter ended death with the Batfam (Maybe during his RR run and isn't caught by Dick when he is kicked out of WE window? Or its in the future where his relationship between the bats is bad.)

So yeah Tim dies. And wakes in the Infinite Realms and learns to unlive in that Realm and gained a wonderful afterlife.

And somehow manages to gain the attention of the Ghost King, King Phantom and somehow manages to become his Consort after some adorable ghost courting.

Despite the fact he's been dead for like a few months in his original Realms timeline, time in the Infinite Realms is more ocean like than riverish, Tim has been happily married to his husband for what feels like eons.

So Tim was not, very very not happy when his ghost is suddenly pulled away from his anniversary dinner and stuffed back into his body.

He hears yelling and fighting, wakes to see the Bats fighting League Assassins while Batman is fighting Ra's in rage.

And Tim.

He isn't happy at all.

He already figured it out, connected the dots.

Oh Ra's was going to regret bringing him back. The Bats, and he KNOWS they should had respected his last wishes to be fucking cremated, ashes scattered in space, so THIS wouldn't had happened.

Cause Tim wasn't playing around anymore.

[softaestluv]

obsessed with the idea of onlyfans model! reader x Simon

Maybe you’re one of the biggest creators on the platform and you’re very well known after doing it for a few years. Except, you only do solo content, despite your peers constantly asking to collab or getting requests from fans to see you getting fucked.

Then, one day you post a video showing off some new panties and Simon’s tattooed and scarred hand just appears, squeezing the meat of your ass, claiming and possessive. A subtle message he’s sending to your audience as he spreads your cheeks apart, sliding your panties to the side and shows off your pretty pussy dripping with his cum.

[humanjarvis]

pilot diet

🚨: reference to medical fasting, somnophilia (previously consented), reader wakes up briefly, cunnilingus, tongue fucking for sustenance basically, ambiguous female orgasm but maybe squirting if you're into that

caleb was hungry.

per the fleet’s medical personnel, all airmen were required to go on a 12-hour water fast before their annual physical exam. and his was tomorrow. 

he thought he’d be fine. thought he could last a few extra hours on an empty stomach. but he was so hungry. 

which, somehow, had brought him to your room. fidgeting in your bedroom doorway, eyes glued to your sleeping form.

it’s fine, he thinks, digging his nails into his palm. the nurses didn’t say anything about this, right? a-and she said i could whenever i needed to. we both did. so it’s fi—

a soft rustling from your bed almost makes him jump out of his skin, but you’d only rolled over in your sleep. 

it’s fine. 

slowly, quietly, he inches toward you, his hesitant shuffle becoming a prowl the closer he gets. 

when he reaches the foot of the bed, the soft pressure of his evol pulls your covers back and gently floats you down to him, your legs dangling over the edge of the mattress.

he sighs with longing as he lifts your oversized shirt. normally, he’d take the time to truly appreciate you, licking you through your panties until he could taste you through the fabric.

but he couldn’t risk it tonight. he was desperate, and you had a busy day tomorrow, too.

carefully, he pulls your panties down, his senses flicking to life as if they’ve just discovered a prize. his mouth waters at the sight of you. the sweet notes of your body wash envelop him, mixing with your natural scent. 

moaning involuntarily, he dives forward, hesitating only to remind himself not to startle you out of your sleep. 

a moment later, his lips meet your slit in a gentle, reverent kiss, his nose poking slightly through to brush against your clit. sighing at the contact, he thrusts his pink tongue forward, flattening it against your folds to test your sensitivity. and when you don’t react, he parts your folds with gentle haste. 

his only goal tonight is you gushing around his tongue. right into his mouth, filling him with your flavor.

tenderly, he suckles your clit in an open-mouthed kiss before turning his attention to your glistening entrance. he licks over and around it before plunging his tongue into you, lifting your hips to sink as far as he can get. 

your arousal oozes around him, coating his lips as his eager tongue explores inside you. licking, thrusting, swishing side to side—trying everything he can to taste all of you.

when you abruptly clench around him, he ruts his hips against the firm edge of the mattress, too focused on you to pay his swollen, leaking cock any mind. 

he only pulls away to catch his breath and make sure he hasn't disturbed you. but when he nestles back in, he gathers your folds in his mouth and releases them with a loud pop—too ravenous to notice you stirring awake.

“mngh…caleb?” you moan groggily, reaching down to grip his soft strands. 

“shh, m’sorry,” he mumbles, mouth too full of you to speak clearly. “go back to sleep, baby. i’m sorry, go back to sleep. just need to taste you.”

humming in dazed acceptance, you flop your head back down, and caleb thinks you’ve followed his orders. 

but when you start grinding lazily against his face, forcing his tongue even deeper into you, he nearly stains his boxers white.

you are going back to bed, it seems. you’re just using his face as your sleep aid—and he’s happy to help. 

for a while, you keep using each other, your half-conscious form getting off on his nose and tongue while he licks up your pooling slick.

but eventually, your movements slow before stopping altogether, and your hand goes slack in his mussed-up hair. you'd fallen back asleep, pushing his face into your pretty pussy. like you’d known there’s nowhere else he’d rather be. 

your movements had sent you closer to the edge—he can tell from the twitches of your lonely clit, stiff and desperate for his touch. 

leaving your entrance with a sloppy kiss, he obliges. surging upwards, he lashes his tongue across the bud, flicking and suckling it until your legs unconsciously tighten around his head. so close. 

he can’t use his mouth anymore. it has to be open, waiting, ready to catch whatever you’ll give him.

so he replaces it with his fingers. bringing his hand up to your clit, he rubs eagerly, but the gentle pinch he gives it is your undoing. as he holds the bud between long fingers, your release gushes out of you and into his waiting mouth.

between greedy swallows, he whispers reverent thank-yous, lining your thighs with appreciative kisses. he’s not hungry anymore, but that doesn’t mean he won’t eat. 

once he’s gulped down your release, he sucks your slick folds and quivering hole for more, hell-bent on drinking everything you have. but when his tongue prods your entrance again, your legs instinctively clamp shut, and he knows he’s had his fill for the night. 

raising his head for the first time in ages, he licks his glistening lips in contentment, the pleasant buzz of satiety spreading through his brain. 

[honeyblackberries]

imagine jjk men who are so casual with their affection. sure they do the usual things like holding your hand and kissing you in public but...

nanami would fold down the collar of your shirt when it sticks up funny, all while continuing on with your conversation as if it was just second nature. 

geto would poke in between your brows when you're frowning and tease that your pretty face will get stuck like that. 

gojo would play with your hair when he's bored, tugging at it to annoy you like a bratty kid.

toji would wrap his arm around your waist to move you out of the way of people on the street. his hand lingering as he complains for you to watch where you’re going.

sukuna would bite you when your attention strays away from him for too long, he looks irritatingly pleased with himself when you tell him off.

[katsinspats]

Tragic: Guy you based your entire villain backstory on doesn't even remember you

[theorphicangel]

no.1 clingy sukuna believer

you could be at your desk just reading over essays or paperwork and trust he'll find a way to linger near your desk. suddenly he's reorganising your papers claiming that it's too messy or that you dropped something off the desk. then you find him sharpening your pencils, making each one of them sharp enough to pierce skin.

then he huffs really loud once he realises that your eyes will not look up at him, glued to the paper you're reading.

'something wrong?'

'no.'

'why'd you keep pacing up and down then?'

'bored.'

'go find something to do then.' you reply in a sweet tone.

'i wanna do you.' Sukuna mumbles, his voice low enough for you not to hear.

'what was that?'

'nothing, let me know when you're finished.' he huffs leaving the room.