#interdimensional content

[gueberninja]

An alien tried to study MrBeast… but misclicked into a breastfeeding tutorial 👽📺

Recovered from Gueberninja Log 004. Surveillance breach. Unauthorized feed crossover.

Simulation stability: compromised. Viewer reaction: unpredictable.

This was never meant to leak.

[seeinginthedark]

What is written in this blog is the same as what I say in this 7 minute video .

The topic is the benefits of transmuting actual demons .

I want to say something based on my experience with demons . I think it’s a bit controversial what I’m about to say … they are sort of like a part of us … when we go through a horrible trauma , especially as children … sometimes a demon attaches itself to us as part of our darkness. They attach and become part of that darkness . As a way of protecting us. But sometimes it takes over and causes us harm or pushes people away. Makes us do dark things. What I’ve learned is that You can actually tell your demon that you don’t need it anymore to step in because u aren’t a young child anymore needing protection. Healing from your trauma will intergrate the demon to work with you and not against you . That’s how I managed my trauma demons , I transmuted them into my whole entire self so they work for me now and don’t haunt me or push others away . To heal from my trauma I did quite a few different healing methods . I won’t list them in this video. Different methods of healing work for different people. You can try a few different things to see what works for you I did a lot of screaming . It helped me . I learned to accept my darkness, I realised its value and potential . Accepting it means you need to release any guilt , shame or doubt that you have . When you get depressed or anxious or low vibe, don’t try to numb it away with things. Let it pass through you .

I found with demons , true ones, you can make them submit and work for you for your benefit.

Some Demons are enamoured with us, I feel. They want to like merge with us and assist us but they act out like a disobedient child in need of authority . We show them authority , they submit . I’m learning more and more that this is true . If it doesn’t work this way for you , showing authority and they Lee doing evil things , then maybe what we are dealing with, isn’t a demon or an earth bound spirit . It’s something else more evil . But what is more evil than a demon, you might ask. Well,

An inter dimensional “ being “or “entity “ or a collective group of entities from another dimension. That are here to torment us AND our demons . Suppress our powers . Or disrupt the connection between us and our “helpful” demons.

I believe reptilians and most of the aliens are worse than demons , but they are sometimes referred to AS demons. So the whole terminology is confusing at times . Organised institutional religion really confused it for us.

I’ve been trying to categorising these entities, beings and demons for some time now.

And if we are dealing with reptilians or other nasty inter dimensional beings , than there is a that they have done one of these three things :

1/ they have made alliances with demons and are like “contracting” them out to do fucked up shit to certain humans . Such as the “chosen ones” or I refer to them as the “spiritual warriors” in my other videos .

Secondly

2/ they are maybe blackmailing demons into doing evil things to us or tricking them into doing it

Or

3/ they are using advanced technology which is out of our current understanding , to do evil shit to you. And it isn’t a demon attack .

Another point I want to address is this:

They potentially are able to give us false visions and false prophecies to get us off track of our true missions. And I have to maybe face the fact that they have done this to me , and this “ancestor mission” that im on is false and a waste of time for me.

I want my demons to make an alliance with others , to make us strong. I’m prepared to go to the Underworld to muster up an army of them if I have to. In some ways , I think I may already have done that . I’ve come to the conclusion now that my ancestors aren’t around me anymore . But they’ve left spirit minders around me and my family . Like Djinns. For protection during the spiritual war. We need all the help we can get in this war against these interdimensionals . Perhaps, reptilians . Who I suspect have upgraded themselves to be semi robotic now.

So how I see it in this war we have humans and spirits and demons on one side and on the other we have interdimensional beings with advanced technological weaponry, that may or may not be in control of some demons .

I believe they are the ones that gave King Solomon his “magic ring” that could control Djinn. It wasn’t a magic ring , it was advanced technology . And they weren’t all evil Djinn. They were spirits of Earth, some of them.

So it’s a battle for Earth and humans of Earth .

[tiiidan]

Feather contamination detected again. Kitchen privileges revoked. This you?

[artficlly]

lessons in lovemaking [part two]

marvel au bucky x blackwidow!reader You and Bucky Barnes go undercover as a married couple, but when a fake kiss gets too real, he unexpectedly finishes in his pants—leaving you both stunned.

Warnings: 18+ content minors dni, smut, fem reader, dry humping, blindfolding, grinding, soft dom vibes reader, soft sub vibes bucky, bucky is touch starved, clothed ejaculation, vague mentions of previous sa, ex black widow reader, very consensual, safe words, kissing, bucky barnes needs a hug, if you squint, there's some plot, fluff, angst, bickering, reader is lowkey depressed, mentions of past violence, death and war, no use of y/n, lmk if i've missed anything

Word Count: 8.6k

A/N: hey guys, i'm literally so nervous posting this... it's been sitting in my drafts for like a month now and i finally worked up the courage to post after spending a couple hours editing :( i'm literally scheduling this to post at like 3am my time so i'm not awake when it goes live i'm so anxious bahaha. the start of this part is a bit slow, pls hold on because theres some light smut and angst at the end. i have plans for further parts that'll look more into the other avengers finding out and the development between bucky and readers relationship and their shared healing. sorry for any typos - not proof read.

main masterlist | series masterlist

It was only on rare occasions that the full team of Avengers (and co.) were in the same room. A momentous historical moment, in fact, normally reserved for two particular occasions:

The world was ending (in some gloriously diabolical way that usually involved aliens, interdimensional warlords, or some ancient, forgotten god with a vendetta) or

Tony Stark was throwing another one of his famously exclusive penthouse parties (which, despite being ‘exclusive,’ still managed to include half of New York—most of whom showed up just to gawk at the Avengers like a travelling circus act sent to entertain them personally.)

Today, it seemed, was neither of those occasions. Thor and the rest of the Asgardians—Bruce Banner included, oddly enough—were busy rebuilding after the destruction of Asgard. Wanda and Vision were off playing happy family elsewhere, and Clint was busy with his own quickly expanding family. The others, agents, specialists, the people whose names you never bothered to remember, were preoccupied with their own missions. Which left you here, filed neatly into the elusive extra category. Not quite an Avenger. Too valuable to be let loose, too unpredictable to be fully trusted.

You leant back in your chair, only half-listening to the conversation beside you. The skin around your thumbnail was raw. You picked at it absentmindedly, peeling back the edge where it had already started to flake, a sting flaring along the nail. You were thinking—too much, maybe—so you let them talk, let yourself disappear as they debated which bar had the strongest drinks and the least pathetic men.

The three of you were early. By some miracle, morning training had ended ahead of schedule. Natasha had wiped the floor with you, to the point where it probably would’ve been more productive to stay on the mat rather than waste your energy hauling yourself back up.

“What do you think?” It took you a second to realise Yelena was talking to you, elbows propped on the table, chin resting in her hand. She was watching you expectantly, sharp eyes narrowed.

You didn’t look up. “I’m not coming.”

She sighed dramatically. “You never hang out with us.” She leant back in her chair with an exaggerated huff, muttering under her breath, “So mysterious and cool. You think you’re better than us?” 

Natasha watched on amused, the redhead poised as always. “She doesn’t want to drink in front of us in case she spills her secrets.”

You scoffed. “What secrets?”

“I don’t know.” Natasha leant forward, watching you a little too closely now, like she was gauging your reaction. “How about how that mission went with Barnes?”

Ever since the gala mission, the two had been trying to get you alone, a few drinks in, hoping for something—a slip, an offhanded remark, anything that would confirm whatever hunches they had. You knew what they were fishing for. They weren’t subtle.

You just weren’t playing.

Neither you nor Bucky had said a word about it.

That, apparently, was suspicious.

“She is right, you know. Neither of you will say a word about it. I’m beginning to think something happened—” Yelena cut over her sister with a grin.

“Nothing happened,” you interrupted smoothly, finally lifting your eyes from the wreckage of your thumbnail. “You keep asking, but you’re not going to uncover some dirty secret. Sorry to disappoint."

“Then why the silence? No one would care if you fucked him, you could just plead innocence, overcome by playing the perfect, doting wife—”

You shot her a look, one withering enough to turn bone to dust and ego to rubble. 

“I mean… maybe people would care, but I wouldn’t judge you! Super soldier, metal arm… so hot, or whatever.” Yelena prattled on, and you ignored her, exhaling through your nose.

"I think he’s just mortified that people assume something did happen. He’s got enough brooding energy as it is." You muttered. 

“I just don’t believe nothing happened, trapped in that hotel room together for a week. Apparently, you were convincing enough to keep the targets off your scent, and we all know Barnes’ acting is as stiff as a cadaver on ice—”

Your face twisted into a look of exasperation before you could control yourself, straightening in your seat. “God, you two really are like vultures, picking around for the slightest bit of gossip—”

“Wow, defensive—” 

“Isn’t that the joy in life? Digging for gossip?” Natasha cut back in with a sharp smirk.

“You two are insufferable!” You interrupted, slapping your palms onto your thighs. "I think I’ll keep my secrets. I’ll leave the both of you to continue plotting this fantastical mystery you’ve created in your minds—”

“It’s only fun because you get so worked up about it,” Natasha cut back with a grin you could only describe as predatory. “Plus, I do love watching Rogers squirm listening to all the theories."

“You know,” Yelena mused, swirling the thought around before letting it slip, “I don’t think Steve is as innocent as we think he is. I’m pretty sure I heard him and Sharon—”

She cut herself off just as the door swung open, and the rest of the team filtered in.

You schooled your reaction, easily slipping back into the picture of nonchalance. Bucky’s blue eyes flickered towards yours for a split second before darting away. It had been two weeks since your first ‘lesson’. Two weeks of carefully measured distance, of subtle glances that never lasted too long, of conversations that stayed just professional enough to not raise questions.

Bucky had been doing well—shockingly well, actually. He was receptive to your touch, followed your guidance with careful precision, and was beginning to trust you, bit by bit. You hadn’t gone much further than heated make-out sessions that usually ended with him finishing in his pants, but you weren’t in a rush. You were still feeling out his comfort zones, making sure he never felt cornered or overwhelmed. There wasn’t exactly a handbook for this kind of arrangement.

You slumped in your seat even further, shaking off the feeling. It was fine. No one knew.

Still, the way Bucky avoided looking in your direction made something prickle under your skin.

You were certain the super soldier would combust on the spot if any of his coworkers caught wind of what the two of you had been up to. Hell, he turned red enough just having you perched in his lap during lessons, whispering sweet nothings into his ear. And yet, during meetings, training, or any moment the two of you were forced into the same orbit, you couldn’t help but wonder—did he think about those moments? Did his mind drift back to the ghost of your touch the same way yours did?

You weren’t usually the sentimental type. Nostalgia was a luxury, a foolish indulgence you had long since trained yourself out of. But there was something about him—his quiet hesitance, his wary but willing surrender—that stuck with you. It was a service, nothing more. A transaction in which you gained no tangible benefit, so why did you linger on it? Why did the thought of his gaze meeting yours send a sharp thrill through your chest? Was it because he treated you like a person instead of a tool? Because he understood pieces of you no one else even tried to?

He wasn’t like the others. Never cruel, never greedy. He never reached for more than you offered, never treated you like something to be taken. Maybe that was why you kept coming back. Maybe, for once, you liked the control. Liked the feeling of choosing, of being wanted on your own terms. Of knowing that, for once, you weren’t a marionette dancing on someone else’s strings.

You swallowed the thought down and let your gaze flicker to him. Bucky sat curled in on himself, as if trying to shrink into nothing despite the broadness of his frame. He looked like a wounded animal—no, worse. He looked exhausted. The dark circles beneath his eyes had deepened, his hair unwashed and slightly greasy at the roots. He wasn’t sleeping. He wasn’t taking care of himself. You didn’t need to be a genius to figure that out.

He stared blankly at the grain of the wooden table, shoulders hunched between Steve and Sam, who were deep in conversation about something you didn’t care enough to eavesdrop on. And for reasons you weren’t ready to name, that quiet, hollow stillness of his sat uneasily in your chest.

You had… concerns for Bucky after what he had confessed to you. But you weren’t sure what to do with those concerns. Or those confessions. You held them close to your chest, unwilling to betray his trust, but understanding instead. You knew it was probably irresponsible of you to sit on them, but you didn’t want to overstep. Besides, Steve and Sam didn’t know you. You’d had maybe three conversations with each of them, most of them mission-related. To them, you were just Natasha and Yelena’s friend—Red Room collateral. You weren’t social, you weren’t a part of their circle, and you sure as hell weren’t someone they trusted.

And if they knew about your arrangement with Bucky… well, you didn’t want to think about what conclusions they’d draw—

“Hi!”

The sudden, chirpy voice nearly startled you out of your seat.

Kate Bishop had arrived—loud, bright, and effortlessly excitable, like a golden retriever in human form. She had that kind of energy that made you suspicious. No one was that happy all the time. Her dark hair was pulled into a ponytail, messy strands framing her face. She was dressed in casual, slightly dishevelled layers, looking like she had just come from sparring but didn’t have the same dead-in-the-eyes exhaustion you did after a training session.

“I’m Kate!” she announced, beaming at you like you were about to be best friends. She pushed her hand out. “Kate Bishop.”

You blinked at her, ignoring her outstretched offer. “I know.”

Her grin didn’t waver, and she coolly withdrew her hand.

“You’re Clint and Yelena’s pet project.” You spoke again, your tone perhaps a little more hostile than necessary. 

“It’s apprentice, actually.” Yelena cut in before Kate could argue. “You know, you’re starting to hurt my feelings. Stark has an apprentice, so why are you always giving me shit—”

“Oh yes, Stark’s pet project.” You gave an exaggerated sigh. “What was his name? Paxton, Peyton, or was it Parker?”

“Did I ask for your opinion, K.G.B. Barbie?” Tony Stark’s voice cut in lazily as he walked past, sitting at the head of the table like he owned the place—which, unfortunately for you, he did. As usual, he didn’t look pleased to see you, and the scent of entitlement wafted off of him in waves.

You met his gaze evenly. "No, but I was under the impression that unsolicited opinions were your love language, considering the amount your hand out.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Remind me why we let you sit at the big kids’ table again?”

"You don’t." You glanced at Stark, unimpressed. "But I was invited, shockingly enough. Or are you reckless enough to ignore Fury’s instructions now?"

There it was. That smirk. He smirked at you, and you knew in your heart he had the foulest, most cutting rebuke to lay upon you. He hadn’t even opened his mouth, and you were already grinding your teeth in frustration as you stared back at him, eyes locked onto his smug face—

Kate cleared her throat, stepping in before you and Stark could escalate any further. “So, what do you do?”

Stark held his tongue, so in return, you slid your gaze back over to a nervous Kate. And in that moment, you knew you couldn’t help yourself. Natasha had already shot you a warning look, but the redhead's trained patience for the playboy Stark had unfortunately never extended to you. 

"Infiltration, espionage, recon." You shrugged, expression carefully neutral. "I gather information, and then the big boys get to swoop in, throw a few punches, and take all the credit. Isn’t that right, Stark?"

Maybe you had woken up grouchier than usual—not that you could even call the few hours of restless tossing and turning sleep. Or perhaps it was the fact that you’d spent the morning eating the training mat, then had to suffer through Natasha and Yelena’s constant interrogations that had soured your mood. Either way, you weren’t exactly in the best headspace to deal with him.

Truthfully, you thought Stark was a prick, and unfortunately, you had never been exactly shy about that opinion. You and Stark had just never really clicked. Not in the way he had with the others, not in the way Natasha had seamlessly folded herself into the team, or the way Yelena had bulldozed her way in, loud and brash. You existed somewhere in between, tolerated but always lingering on the outside. It wasn’t that you didn’t get along with them. You could banter with Sam, hold an easy conversation with Steve when necessary and trade dry humour with Clint in a way that made you feel almost at home. Even Stark, for all his grating personality, wasn’t always intolerable. But there was always something between you and them—an unspoken distance, a careful line you never crossed. They didn’t entirely trust you yet, and you never gave them a reason to try.

Not because you didn’t want to.

But because trust had never been a luxury you could afford.

Your job was reading people—analysing, dissecting, and manipulating. You understood them better than they understood themselves, saw the cracks in their foundations and knew precisely where to apply pressure. It made you valuable. Indispensable even, but it also made people wary. The team knew what you were, even if they didn’t know the full extent of what you had been. But deep down, you knew they were smart enough to assemble the pieces.

So you kept yourself at arm’s length. You wanted to believe you could have that feeling—belonging. But wanting and trusting were two very different things that you did not dare confuse.

Kate’s eyes lit up. “That’s so cool.”

“That’s a polite way of putting it,” Stark interjected, leaning against the desk. “She’s just a pretty face we send in to distract while the rest of us do the actual work.”

There it was.

Your jaw clenched, but you didn’t rise to the bait. This was your hubris. You could already hear Natasha’s scolding—You really shouldn’t egg him on like that. The two of you are as bad as each other, always trying to get under each other's skin. A bunch of alleycats fighting it’s ridiculous—

Somewhere across the table, Bucky’s eyes had shot up. The movement startled you, and your eyes met briefly. It was milliseconds, maybe not even that, but as soon as you registered your brief exchange, Bucky shied away like a spooked animal.

And when you looked back at Kate, Natasha and Yelena, you found that Natasha had been watching the whole thing. She didn’t speak, didn’t even react. There wasn’t the slightest twitch in her brow or twinge in her lips. She stared like some kind of omnipotent god, and deep down, you knew. You knew she knew. 

Maybe she didn’t know the full extent, but the way she stared… it made you shudder.

Fuck.

Kate, however, frowned, turning back to you. “That’s not true, right?”

“Of course not,” you deadpanned, not letting the dread pooling in your stomach let you miss a beat. “I do much more than look pretty. Sometimes I get to torture people—”

Kate’s face pale, then through several stages of grief, trying to figure out if you were joking. 

You weren’t about to help her.

“Relax, Kate Bishop, she is messing with you,” Yelena said with an amused grin, though it was tight. A silent warning behind her eyes told you to keep your mouth shut.

Kate still looked mildly concerned, but she shook it off quickly. “Okay, but—so you can fight?”

“Of course.”

“Not as well as me,” Yelena cut in before you could elaborate, grinning smugly. “Don’t worry, Kate. You’re being trained by the best of the best. Me? I am the best. You know this.”

You rolled your eyes, and Kate beamed. That girl was too fucking cute for her own good.

The door swung open before anyone could respond to Yelena. Fury stepped inside, long coat sweeping behind him, his boots heavy against the floor. His usual expression—somewhere between perpetually pissed off and quietly judgmental—was firmly in place beneath the shadow of his eyepatch.

"Hope I'm not interrupting anything," Fury said, his voice edged with dry amusement, though his gaze flicked between you all with razor-sharp scrutiny.

"No, sir," Steve said, back straightening. Natasha, ever composed, merely leaned back in her chair. Stark didn’t even spare a glance.

“First off, I’d like to extend my deepest, most heartfelt gratitude for your attendance,” Fury began, spreading his arms in a broad, insincere gesture, his tone so dry it could have turned the room to dust. “I know how much of a hardship it is, taking an hour out of your busy lives to sit in a comfortable chair and listen to me talk.”

Sam snorted. Yelena smirked. Bucky, as usual, remained unreadable.

Fury’s eye landed on you and Bucky before he tossed a slim tablet onto the table, the display already flashing with the text of a mission report you hardly cared to examine in detail.

“Congratulations are in order. The gala infiltration went exceptionally well despite the odds stacked against you.”

You dipped your head in acknowledgement, catching movement out of the corner of your eye—Sam begrudgingly sliding Fury what seemed to be a twenty-dollar bill. Asshole.

Fury tapped the screen embedded in the table, replacing the mission debrief with a new set of images. An aerial view of a club, snippets of surveillance footage, a grainy close-up of a man slipping out of a side entrance, bodyguards in tow.

“And thanks to that intel recovered,” Fury continued, “we now have a location on our next target. Dmitry Karpin. Friend to H.Y.D.R.A. Dealt in smuggling high-profile weapons in and out of Soviet countries for a time, but now he’s taken to smuggling drugs. Serums, to be specific.”

Across the table, Bucky had gone still. Tension coiled in his shoulders, his hands resting stiffly on the surface, knuckles taut. H.Y.D.R.A. Serum. The words alone were enough to suffocate the room when Bucky or Steve were around. You didn’t let your eyes linger on him long nor allow your frown to deepen. 

Fury didn’t acknowledge the shift—maybe he was used to it by now, or perhaps he just didn’t care. His voice remained steady, rolling over the tension in the room as if he were reciting lines from a well-rehearsed script. Karpin’s security detail. The club’s weak points. Entry and exit strategies. The words blurred together, dissolving into background noise beneath the low hum of static in your head. It was hard to focus when you could feel Bucky sitting across from you, motionless, barely even breathing, his whole body locked up like a loaded fucking gun. And the worst part? He probably thought he was doing a good job hiding it.

You didn’t stare, didn’t let your concern show. Instead, you leant back in your chair, tilting your head just enough to feign disinterest. “So, just another fun-filled evening of chatting up sweaty old men for me? Sounds like a dream.” Your voice came out dry, with just enough sarcasm to mask any wobbles. 

Fury didn’t spare you a glance. “If that’s what you need to tell yourself,” he said, tapping the screen again. More grainy footage. More blueprints. The details kept coming, but you barely registered them.

You picked at your thumbnail hard enough that the cuticle began to bleed.

Eventually, the meeting drew to a close. Chairs scraped against the floor as the team rose, murmuring amongst themselves as they filed out. You stood, ready to follow, but—

“You two, stick around,” Fury instructed.

You hesitated, glancing at him, then at Bucky, who had also stalled mid-step. Natasha and Yelena exchanged a knowing look, their amusement not at all subtle. You ignored their barely concealed grins as they disappeared through the door.

Fury exhaled, hands bracing against the table as he surveyed the two of you. 

“I’ll be honest,” he said finally. “I wasn’t convinced it would work when I paired you two. Thought maybe you’d kill each other before you got anything done.”

Bucky scoffed quietly, gaze flicking away.

“But you proved me wrong.” His good eye narrowed as he continued. “The mission was a success. You handled yourselves well.”

A beat of silence. Then, just as flatly, “I want to know if you’d be open to working together again. Similar style of operation.”

Your eyes slid over to Bucky, gauging his reaction. You didn’t want to appear too eager or give any more credence to the stories Yelena and Natasha were spinning, but most of all, you didn’t want to put words into Bucky’s mouth. You weren’t in the business of pressuring him in or out of the bedroom. 

Bucky was quiet as if silently working through some thoughts before deciding. Finally, he offered a dismissive “Sure.”

You nodded slowly, offering Fury a nonchalant shrug. “I’m fine with that.”

Fury’s lips twitched. Not quite a smirk.

“Well, that’s the most enthusiasm I’ve heard all day,” he deadpanned before shaking his head. “Damn, you two are depressing. Sitting there all broody, staring at me like I shot your goddamn dog.” 

Neither you nor Bucky reacted, which was met by a low chuckle from Fury. “Regardless, I appreciate the hard work. You made me a nice chunk of money winning some bets.”

Your brow furrowed. “You bet on us?”

Fury raised an eyebrow, unbothered. “Course I did. Had to make it interesting. Half the team thought you’d get caught or kill each other before the first day was up.”

You blinked. “...Who bet against us?”

“Stark.” Fury’s lips twitched again. “He didn’t think you’d make it past security.”

Of course he did. Prick. 

—

"Alright, I’m in position."

You blinked. Bucky sat there like he was awaiting orders, his posture rigid as if he were about to breach enemy lines.  His hands hovered awkwardly at his sides, fingers twitching like he wasn’t sure where to put them like touching you required the same level of strategic planning as a high-stakes extraction mission.

You stared, straddling his hips, your fingers ghosting over his collarbone, feeling the tension thrumming beneath his skin. He didn’t quite meet your eyes, his gaze fixed somewhere just past your shoulder as if making direct contact might detonate something neither of you were ready for. For a split second, you half expected him to press a finger to an earpiece and murmur something about securing the perimeter.

In the dim glow of his bedroom, he looked every bit like a man being held hostage rather than one about to receive a very generous favour.

Lately… something felt off. The signs had been subtle at first, the way he always seemed a beat too calculated, his hands found the same places every time, and he would grow still like he was waiting for a command. 

And now, looking at him, so wound-up he might actually vibrate, it finally clicked.

Every touch and kiss was executed with the precision of a soldier running a drill rather than a man lost in the moment. It was methodical. He was analysing a strategy rather than experiencing pleasure. You half expected to glance down and see him taking notes—touch here, kiss there, don’t forget to do this. The thought horrified you, but if you were honest… it also amused you. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

“…Bucky, are you seriously treating this like a mission?”

He stiffened beneath you, his reaction just a fraction too quick, too defensive.

“What’d you mean?” His voice was steady, but there was an edge. He was already on guard, bracing for imaginary discipline. 

“The way you’re…” You trailed off, head inclining as you studied him. His jaw was clenched, brows drawn tight, the creased skin between them betraying him entirely. One could mistake him for a soldier behind enemy lines, waiting for the crack of a rifle. There were dark smudges under his eyes, no worse than usual. You knew he didn’t sleep well. Nightmares haunted him and left him running on fumes more often than not. You recognised the signs, and it was like you were looking into a mirror. 

“It’s like you have a mental checklist,” you murmured, watching for his reaction. “Like every move you make is planned like you’re running through a strategy in your head instead of just… feeling it.”

Bucky remained silent, his lips pressing into a firm line.

Gently, you squeezed his shoulder, fingertips pressing into hard muscle. He was tense—too tense. “You’re not clearing a building, Bucky. You’re not scanning for threats. You’re here with me. Just relax a little, won’t you?”

“I am relaxed.” He bit the words out, though neither his voice nor expression were even remotely convincing.

You let out a short laugh, shaking your head. “I appreciate the attempt to lie, but when I can feel the fucking tension in your body, it’s a little, well, very obvious.” Your hands traced along his shoulders, fingers kneading into the tight knots beneath the fabric of his shirt. His muscles were rock-solid, never fully uncoiled. His body had forgotten how to rest.

“See?” You gave a pointed squeeze. “This is not ‘relaxed,’ Bucky. This is as solid as a goddamn steel beam.”

Bucky scoffed a tiny huff of air through his nose. “Those are my muscles. I work out. Don’t you?”

You gasped in mock delight, lips parting in exaggerated shock. “Oh my God. Did you just make a joke? Bucky, was that a joke?”

Something flickered in his expression for the first time, a sliver of amusement breaking through the ever-present brooding. He finally met your gaze, eyes crinkling just slightly at the corners, and the sight sent a flicker of warmth through your chest.

You grinned. “Well, isn’t that a first? Guess I should mark the calendar.”

His smirk was brief, fleeting—but it was there.

You softened, your voice dropping just a little. “But seriously, you need to loosen up.” Your hands smoothed over his shoulders, slow and deliberate.“Attraction, desire… sex. It’s messy, it’s unplanned. It’s not a mission. This isn’t the army.” 

You didn’t dare say the following words in your mind aloud. 

This isn’t H.Y.D.R.A. 

But you knew that was where his thoughts drifted, that unspoken trouble that plagued you both. Your fingers ghosted along the silver chain at his throat, the faint jingle of his dog tags barely audible under the fabric of his shirt. “You don’t have to follow orders. You can just be.”

“I know.” The words came low, rough, frayed at the edges. You could feel yourself losing him, his eyes growing foggy as if pulled away to a place you couldn’t quite reach to drag him out from.

“I just…” Another breath, deeper this time, as though steadying himself. “They used me. For so long, they used me as a weapon. I don’t know if I can ever be anything different than that. I don’t want to lose control—what happens if I lose—”

“Hey.” Your hands framed his face now, thumbs brushing against the sharp angles of his cheekbones, anchoring him. “Hey, look at me.”

His eyes lifted, hesitant, guarded.

“You are more than that.” The words were gentle but unwavering, as steady as your hands on him. “We are more than that, okay? You’re Bucky. Just Bucky. And you are in control. Say it.”

His fingers curled against your thighs, knuckles pressing into the cotton fabric of your shorts. He was quiet momentarily as though testing the words in his mind before speaking them aloud. Then, slowly, he nodded.

“I’m in control.”

“You’re in control.” You echoed, smoothing your thumb over the faint stubble on his cheek. “And you still want to do this?”

His breath was slow, deliberate. “Yes.”

Your fingers had drifted higher, threading into his hair, the strands silky and cool beneath your touch. You swept a loose lock from his forehead, letting your fingertips linger against his temple. “And if you don’t want this at any point, what do you say?”

“Stop.”

“And what will happen if you say that?”

“You’ll stop. We’ll stop.”

“Good.” You praised him, your smile widening as you felt him squirm beneath you. There was a subtle hitch in his breath as your hands began to trail lower, palms smoothing down to his chest. The pulse at his throat fluttered beneath your fingertips, quick and uneven, betraying the calm he was trying to hold onto. You leant closer, your breath warm against his skin as you pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his temple. Then lower—to the sharp line of his cheekbone, the edge of his jaw, and finally to the hollow of his throat. A shudder ran through him, his grip on your hips tightening just a fraction. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.” He uttered after a thick, audible swallow.

You pulled back just enough to study him, to see how his lips parted slightly as though chasing the warmth of your touch. A quiet, almost reluctant noise rumbled in his chest, just shy of a whine. You traced your fingers along his jaw before tilting your head, considering him. “I want to try something.” You hummed to him. “You can say no if it’s too much, but I think it might help you.”

His brows furrowed. “Yeah?”

“I want to blindfold you—”

“You want to what?” He went rigid beneath you, every muscle tightening again as if you’d flipped a switch and snapped him back into defence mode.

“Hold on, just let me finish.” You held up your hand, hoping to counteract his immediate, instinctive reaction.

He huffed, rolling his shoulders as though shaking off the response, but said nothing. 

“I want to blindfold you,” you repeated, slower this time, words deliberate. “And I want to kiss you. And touch you. I want you to focus on feeling good rather than anticipating something bad. I want you to just… be here with me. Not thinking about what comes next, not waiting for an attack. Just focusing on feeling. That’s all.”

His expression was cautious before turning to contemplation—as though weighing the idea against everything instinct told him.

“You can say no,” you reminded him gently.

“No, I—” He hesitated, his fingers twitching against your hips.

You shifted back just a little, offering him the space to decide. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do it.”

“No, I—shit—” He exhaled, shaking his head. “I mean—no, I want to. Yes. I want to try that.”

Your gaze searched his. “You’re sure?”

His lips pressed together, and then he nodded once, firmly. “Yes.”

You grinned, pressing a sloppy, lingering kiss to his temple before slipping off his lap with ease and rolling onto the bed beside him. “Do you have something we could use?”

“Uh, I don’t—”

“Like a tie, maybe? You wear suits, right? Or does Stark demand them back the second you step foot in the compound?”

Bucky let out a huff, eyes narrowing. “I don’t want to talk about Stark right now.”

You shot him a knowing look, but before you could tease him further, your gaze flickered downward—and you smirked. Even through the soft material of his sweatpants, you could see he was already half-hard. “Sure.”

A faint flush crept up his neck, staining his ears and cheeks pink. He cleared his throat, voice rough. “Top drawer. In the wardrobe.”

You were on your feet before he could finish, slipping into his walk-in wardrobe. Every apartment in the compound had one, though Bucky’s was noticeably bare. His clothes were monochrome, muted shades of grey, navy, and black. No bursts of colour. No sign of impulse. It was not a lack of wealth. You knew that for sure. No, this was intentional—a desire to blend in, to disappear.

You’d always known he was the type who preferred the shadows, slipping between crowds unnoticed. No wonder he hated the tailored suits Stark and Fury forced him into—arm issues aside. For some reason, S.H.I.E.L.D. were determined to parade him around. Look, the Winter Soldier. He’s a good boy now. He plays nice. Nothing to fear anymore. You were unsure how he felt about such displays, but you were sure it wasn’t too far off from how you felt about it. You had once been in his shoes, though more in the eye candy territory. A doll to dress up and play with, to smile and play the part.

Powerful men enjoyed degrading that which they knew to be dangerous, enjoyed playing with fire, and enjoyed the illusion of control. 

Shaking off the thought, you pulled open the top drawer, sifting through a few neatly folded ties. You selected a smooth black silk, running the cool fabric over your palm before returning to the bedroom.

Bucky was still seated at the edge of the bed, stiff as a board. His hands curled into fists atop his thighs, knuckles taut. His throat bobbed as he swallowed.

You slowed, holding the tie between your fingers like approaching a spooked animal. Visible to inspect and assess. No threat.

“Yes?” you asked, giving him another chance to change his mind.

His jaw tightened, but he gave a short nod. “Yes.”

You smiled softly. “Just breathe, yeah? Like we always do.” You inhaled deeply through your nose, then exhaled slowly and steadily through your mouth.

After a beat, Bucky mirrored you, chest rising and falling with measured breaths.

You moved behind him, settling onto the bed. He sat still, poised for an attack. Carefully, you draped the silk tie over his eyes, looping it around his head and securing it with a loose knot. It wasn’t tight—one purposeful tug and it would slip free.

You could feel the tension radiating from him. Even blindfolded, he was hyper-aware, attuned to every rustle of the sheets, every shift of your weight. His breathing had turned shallower, the serum sharpening every sound, every sensation.

“If you need to stop for any reason, just say so.”

He jolted slightly at your voice, caught off guard in the quiet. “O-okay.” His voice wavered, and then he cursed low under his breath in Russian.

You grinned. Some habits died hard.

“I’m going to touch you now.” You crept closer, lifting onto your knees behind him. “Just focus on me and how it feels. Nothing else. Can you do that?”

He gave a slow, hesitant nod.

You started at his shoulders, palms skimming over firm muscle, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. Every dip and ridge, every knot of tension. Your hands slid to his collarbone, then across the joint where flesh met metal, mapping out the contrast between warm skin and the smooth, cold vibranium.

He was solid beneath your touch, every muscle taut and solid as it stretched across the bone.

You had noticed the way his shoulders gave him grief. The slight tilt of his frame and the way his left arm always sat heavier. It was incorrect weight distribution; the metal limb was too heavy compared to its flesh counterpart. S.H.I.E.L.D had surely offered him physical therapy—massages, treatment plans—but you doubted he had ever taken them up on it. He didn’t like to be touched by strangers. Too wary. Too untrusting. 

“Can I take off your shirt?” you asked softly.

He stilled.

“I don’t—” His voice was lower now, rougher. “My scars. They’re not—”

“I don’t care about that.”

He swallowed hard. “You don’t?”

“No,” you said firmly. “Why would I?” 

Without a word, his hand reached behind his head, gripping the collar of his shirt. He yanked it over his head in one fluid motion, tossing the fabric to the floor. You adjusted the blindfold where it had shifted, then let your gaze drift over the broad expanse of his back.

His shoulders were massive, sculpted with muscle. The scars on his left shoulder were brutal—jagged lines of gnarled tissue where the vibranium met flesh. It might have been seamless after the amputation. Painless even. But it had been H.Y.D.R.A who had ruined him, left scars so deep even the Wakandans couldn’t erase.

And H.Y.D.R.A didn’t care for comfort. They cared for necessity. Likely, you suspected, they had wanted him to suffer.

An endless reminder of their ownership.

You swallowed, then placed your hands on his shoulders again, thumbs pressing gently into the base of his neck. You started slow, careful, massaging along the muscle, working your way down. His skin was warm beneath your palms, the mass taut and unyielding at first, like stone beneath your fingers. But you took your time, applying gradual pressure, thumbs circling into the knots built over time.

Beneath your hands, Bucky let out a low, guttural sound—a half-growl, half-sigh of approval. His head dipped forward slightly, chin brushing his chest, an unspoken invitation to continue.

You kept going, kneading deep into the knots in his shoulders, feeling the tension resist before you coaxed it loose. With each press and roll of your fingers, the stiffness unravelled like a cord being undone, thread by thread. You worked methodically, digging your thumbs along the curve where his neck met his shoulders, pressing firmly enough to elicit another low, unconscious groan from him.

You bit back a smile as you felt him lean into you just a little.

Trailing downward, you traced the slope of his shoulder blades, following the ridges of tendons and old wounds. The scars on his left side were tougher, the tissue uneven where flesh met metal, but you didn’t hesitate. Your fingers brushed the seam between the vibranium and skin, then continued downward, thumbs pressing slow, firm circles along the fuse.

Bucky shuddered.

His breath hitched as you dug into the deep-seated strain along his spine. A sharp inhale, a low exhale—he was losing himself to the sensation, surrendering to your touch. You didn’t rush. You worked him slowly, thoroughly, feeling him yield with each measured stroke. When you reached the dip of his lower back, you flattened your hands, smoothing over the tightness that lingered. He was warm now, his skin melting like wax beneath your fingers.

Satisfied, you finally pulled back, smoothing your hands along his spine one last time before shifting your position.

Rising onto your knees, you moved around him, hands trailing over his shoulders as you slid into his lap. His breath stuttered, but he didn’t pull away. You settled against him, straddling his lap, your arms draping lazily over his shoulders. The blindfold was still secure, and he looked… calmer now. Less wound up, his jaw no longer locked so tightly.

“You okay?” You murmured.

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Good,” you hummed, tilting your head, lips just inches from his ear. “I think you needed that.”

Bucky exhaled a breathy, almost disbelieving laugh, but he didn’t deny it.

Your fingers trailed up the nape of his neck, nails scratching lightly against the short hairs, and you felt him shiver beneath you. You leaned in, lips brushing over his cheekbone, just at the edge of the blindfold, before trailing downward. You kissed along his jaw, soft and teasing, pressing your lips into the warm skin beneath his ear, down the column of his throat.

His hands fidgeted at his sides, tightening around the sheets. Then, as if giving in to some internal battle, they rose—hesitant but desperate. His fingers found your waist, sliding over the curve of your hips before gripping tight.

You grinned against his skin.

“There you go,” you murmured, voice a breath of silk against his throat.

A sharp exhale left him, his fingers tightening, pressing you closer, holding you in place. You cupped his jaw, tilting his face up before pressing your lips to his.

Bucky groaned into the kiss.

It was soft at first, your mouth moving against his, teasing, coaxing him deeper. But it wasn’t long before he cracked. The tension he had held onto for so long—his control, his restraint—it frayed at the edges with every pass of your lips against his. You pressed closer, shifting in his lap, and the moment your hips rolled against him, his breath stuttered.

A broken sound escaped him, part groan, part whimper.

You did it again just to hear it.

His hands flexed against your sides, his hold firm, frantic, but he didn’t stop you. He only breathed harder, his forehead falling against yours as you peppered kisses along his lips, his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Then you moved again, grinding against him slowly, carefully, and Bucky outright whimpered.

He made no effort to stop you—no attempt to control the rhythm, no resistance left in him. His mind was no longer caught in the tangle of right and wrong, of what he should or shouldn’t do.

He only felt.

Only responded.

You kissed him again, deeper, fiercer this time, and he met you with equal hunger.

Bucky’s hands roamed, sliding up your back. Then, his vibranium hand found your face, cradling it between cool, unyielding metal, and you shivered at the contrast—the bite of cold against your flushed skin, the sheer strength in his hold, barely restrained.

He kissed you like he was starving.

You sighed into his mouth, rolling your hips down to meet his, and he groaned—deep and guttural as his body jerked beneath you. He was fully hard now, the evidence pressing against you through his sweatpants, and you couldn't help the soft, breathy giggle that escaped between kisses.

Bucky growled, his grip tightening, his body chasing yours as you rocked against him.

Your hand trailed down, slipping between your bodies, fingers teasing along the waistband of his sweatpants. You could feel the heat of him, the way his breath hitched as your fingertips ghosted lower—

Then he flinched, catching your wrist in a shaky grip.

“Too much,” he muttered, voice barely above a whisper, but the strain was evident.

Immediately, you withdrew, pulling your hand away without hesitation. “I’m sorry. Do you want to stop—”

“No.” he replied quickly, breathlessly.

You cupped his jaw, kissing him slowly, tenderly, as he shuddered beneath you. His hands flexed where they held you, his body still trembling with need, but he didn’t pull away. You kept your movements soft and gentle, pressing your forehead against his, letting him breathe as you kissed him repeatedly. 

“Is this better?” you checked in between kisses, voice warm, reassuring.

“Yes.” He muttered against your lips.

You kissed him deeper, tongue sweeping across his bottom lip and into his mouth.

His body convulsed beneath you, hips twitching up to meet yours, his breath turning shallow and erratic. You could feel the tremors coursing through him, his muscles tensed, his restraint crumbling with every slow, dragging roll of your hips.

Then, with a choked groan, he stiffened.

A broken moan tore from his throat as he came, his body shuddering beneath you. His breath hitched, then stilled, his head falling back onto the bed as he panted heavily, completely spent.

You smiled, watching his chest rise and fall, his body finally wholly relaxed.

You let him catch his breath, your hands smoothing over his chest in slow, soothing strokes. His eyes were still covered, the black silk of the tie snug against his skin, and for a moment, you just watched him—his expression relaxed in a way it so rarely was, his lips parted as he inhaled deep, steadying himself.

Reaching up, you brushed your fingers over his jaw before carefully undoing the knot at the back of his head. The tie slipped away with ease, and his eyes fluttered open, blinking as he adjusted to the room's dim light. His pupils were blown, irises hazy, but there was something else. Softness. An openness you didn’t often see.

“Hey,” you whispered.

His lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Hey.”

You leant down, pressing a gentle kiss to his temple before shifting off of him, allowing him to breathe. He hesitated momentarily before sitting up, his movements slow, almost reluctant. His sweatpants were clinging damply to his skin, and he grimaced slightly before rubbing a hand over his face.

“I should, uh—” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, watching as he climbed off the bed and disappeared into the bathroom. The soft sound of running water followed soon after. You stayed where you were, fingers idly playing with the silk tie as you listened, giving him the space to clean up and gather himself.

When he returned, his sweatpants had been swapped for a fresh pair, the fabric hanging loose around his hips. His hair was damp in uneven patches where he’d raked wet fingers through it, a lazy attempt at tidying up. He lingered in the doorway, weight shifting from one foot to the other, eyes flickering over you like he wasn’t sure what to do next.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Come here.”

His shoulders loosened just a fraction before he climbed back onto the bed, settling beside you with a quiet sigh. He was warm—solid and steady. Without thinking, you nestled closer, resting your head against his chest. His arm came around you automatically, like muscle memory, pulling you in and holding you there.

For a while, neither of you spoke.

Then, barely above a whisper, you asked, “Did you like it?”

Bucky exhaled a deep, slow breath. “Yeah,” he admitted, his voice lower than usual, like he wasn’t used to saying it. “I did.”

You smiled, tracing absentminded circles against his chest. “What did you like about it?”

He was quiet for a long moment, his fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. When he finally spoke, his voice was careful.

“It made it easier,” he murmured. “Not seeing. I could just… feel. Focus on what was happening instead of everything else.” His thumb brushed lightly against your side. “Didn’t have to worry about if I was doing something wrong.”

You frowned slightly, tilting your head up to look at him. “Bucky, you’ve never done anything wrong.”

“I know,” he said, but his voice was tight, a shadow crossing his expression. “It’s just—” He stopped, mouth pressing into a thin line.

You reached up, smoothing a hand over his cheek. “Talk to me.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he said, “I’m scared of it sometimes.”

Your brows furrowed. “Scared of what?”

“Pleasure.”

His fingers tightened slightly against your side like he was bracing himself, but he didn’t look away from you.

“I was taught…” He inhaled sharply. “That it could only be taken. Taken from me. That it was never given freely.” His voice dropped lower, almost a whisper. “That it wasn’t mine to have.”

Slowly, carefully, you sat up, shifting so you were fully facing him. He looked at you, expression guarded, but there was something vulnerable beneath it, something fragile in the way he held himself.

You reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. “Those people, the ones who taught you that, they were trying to hurt you, degrade you,” you told him firmly. “Pleasure is to be shared equally. It’s something you deserve.” You squeezed his hand, your voice softening.

His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but no words came.

“I want you to know that you don’t have to do anything to earn it,” you whispered.

He swallowed hard, his grip on your hand tightening. His voice was barely above a breath when he said, “I don’t know if I know how.”

You smiled softly. “That’s okay. We have time.”

You lifted his hand again, pressing a lingering kiss to his knuckles before settling back down beside him. His warmth seeped into you, but the ache in your chest remained—persistent, lingering. It had nothing to do with exhaustion, the tension in your muscles, or even the way your body still hummed with remnants of touch. No, this ache came from somewhere deeper, from the thoughts unravelling in your mind like a loose thread tugged too far, too fast as you contemplated his confession. 

You had always been a giver. That was your role, your purpose. You gave and gave until there was nothing left. Until you were hollow inside. And yet, the world kept asking for more. You wondered if, over time, it had chipped away at your soul, piece by piece, until there was nothing left.

The words left your lips before you could stop them, before you had the chance to weigh whether you truly wanted to say them aloud.

“Do you ever feel like you’re not… whole?”

Bucky turned his head slightly, his brows furrowing in the low light, lids heavy as he blinked his dark lashes. He didn’t press or demand, didn’t look at you as if he needed clarification. He just waited, silently, like he knew you weren’t finished.

So you kept going.

“Like with every mission, every fight, every demand, you lose something? A tiny piece of yourself, given away without even realising it?” Your voice dropped lower. Bucky was still beside you, completely still, only his breath tickling your cheek with each slow rise and fall of his chest.

“I don’t even know if I’m still the person I was when I was born or if I’ve just been rebuilt from borrowed parts. Pieces given to me, made for me, shaped to fit what I was supposed to become.” You exhaled a sharp breath. “Or maybe… what they wanted me to become.”

The words were bitter on your tongue, and yet they kept coming.

“And I think… maybe I’m afraid that if I ever showed the real me, the world would reject me. That they’d be disgusted by my soul. By everything I have done.”

A shaky breath left your lips, your voice barely more than a whisper now.

“Because sometimes… sometimes I think the only way people will keep me around is if I give them something in return.”

Silence.

You turned your head toward him, searching his face, waiting for something—anything—that would tell you what he was thinking. You hoped for a look, a breath, a word to ground you. But as your gaze swept over him, you realised his breathing had evened out, his lashes fluttering softly against his cheeks. The sharp furrow of his brow had smoothed, his lips slightly parted in a way that spoke of exhaustion finally pulling him under.

Asleep.

Your words had been lost to him.

You weren’t sure if that was a relief or a disappointment.

Maybe it was for the best. He needed the rest, the peace of slumber more than you did. Even now, in the soft glow of the room, dark circles remained etched beneath his eyes.

You let out a slow breath, staring at the ceiling momentarily before carefully slipping out of bed. You moved with quiet precision, gathering your things without making a sound. When you reached the door, you hesitated, glancing back.

For a second, a small, selfish part of you wished he had—wished he had heard you, had held you, had given you something, anything, to quiet the storm inside your chest. But he hadn’t.

And maybe that meant you could take the words back.

Tuck them away for another time.

Or hold onto them forever, maybe all you had needed was to say them aloud, even if only silence itself was listening.

Bucky didn’t stir from his slumber, not even when the door clicked shut behind you.

PART THREE

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taglist: @civilbucky @buckysbbydoll @rosegarbage @fleurenoir @oikarma @blackstabbath6 @kcbug1128 @ellesbellswrites @thaynarajejheje @wunder-blunder @oceanaroma @dyscalculiaaa @murdocklvrr @pursuedbyamemoryy @fantasyheroine @chronicallybubbly @nikkinss @maryevm @doilooklikeagiveafrack (sorry if it didn't tag anyone properly)

[nightingale-prompts]

Do NOT Touch a God- DC x DP Prompt (Tim x Danny)

Correction: don't touch Danny.

A rule has been added to the house rules of Titans Tower. It started after the arrival of the summoning of the interdimensional teen that takes residence there.

Despite being only a teenager the power he held was at the level of a god. He causally reshaped reality around him to his liking. Rooms are made bigger on the inside but remain the same outside. Danny's hate for things getting too dirty made all clothes left on the floor for too long disappear into the laundry room and spilled drinks evaporate. The tower became self-cleaning as everything found its place on its own. Danny said it was just what he prefers, lab safety and all that. Sometimes Danny would turn off gravity, no reason be just likes it like that.

Unfortunately, he doesn't go on missions except for extreme situations where he is needed. He is content to spend his time in the med bay as the resident healer. He is also one of the few that can fix up Cyborg. Danny doesn't get involved unnecessarily. This has led to a few arguments in the past over how unhelpful he can be despite being able to help them. Danny shrugs it off and disappears when it happens. It was not fair on him, if he didn't want to fight he shouldn't have to. He was an asset and he offered his help freely.

So why does the No Touch rule exist? Well, Danny doesn't like touching people. He wears gloves for a reason especially when he is working in the bay fixing up everyone after a mission. He also avoids others touching him, shrinking away when someone tried.

Everyone respected that boundary but after a rough mission in particular Kon started an argument with him. The injuries were severe and he was just mad that M'gann was hurt. Danny was already overwhelmed with healing everyone and Kon seemed to strike a nerve. When Kon almost made contact with him Danny flickered out of existence and reappeared further away.

After several hours of fixing broken bones and open wounds Danny retreated.

Tim decided to check on him later. Kon was sorry for overreacting and blaming Danny for something he couldn't control but Danny probably didn't want to see him right now.

Danny looked worse for wear when he opened the door. He looked tired, weary from using his energy. He wrapped a blanket around himself.

They talked for a while. Mostly about nothing important, other times about how stressful things were right now.

Tim often found it hard to believe that Danny wasn't just a normal teen. Then again, what did he know about normal?

But he had wondered something.

He reached out and tried to hold Danny's hand but Danny moved away quickly noticing.

"You shouldn't do that." He said simply.

Had he been Dick he would repect the boundaries and if he was Jason he'd probably agree. But he was Tim and Tim was very bad at boundaries. That's kind of how he got here.

"Why not?" Tim asked.

"It might be too much," Danny said cautiously eyeing Tim who held his hands up.

"Try me."

Danny sighed and removed one of his gloves and touched his hand to Tim's shoulder.

All at once different sensations filled his senses. A comforting touch of a friend, a light fluttering of a passing stranger on the street, a strike of a hated rival, the steady hand of a family member, the playful tap of a classmate, the caress of a lover...all at once. Each feeling is defined but also blurred. It was almost like being pulled in thousands of directions as they tried to claim a part of Tim into their reality.

A single touch sent him into a trace. When Danny pulled away he expected to have broken Tim like how a child accidentally snaps their toys when playing. He knew his touch could overwhelm people almost to death. Clockwork said he'd be able to control it some day but Danny didn't even want to test it. Being able to fracture someone's mind was scary. Seeing it happen once was enough. So why did he try it on Tim? Did he not care what happened to him?

It's a bit selfish and embarrassing to admit but...not being able to touch another person was awful. He's not clingy but it feels like he has lacked sensation for a long time. Tim willingly asked for this and Danny wanted this as well.

Tim wasn't broken. Infact he had never felt more alive. When Danny removed his hand he found himself pulling it back to him. He couldn't explain it but it felt like...everything. Indescribable but amazing. It was contradictory but all of it made sense.

"Do it again!"

Things kind of escalated from there. It would probably be crass to even say it but let's just say that neither was lacking sensation. It was profound, not purely physical nor emotional, something else entirely. The religious sort would call it divine or a blessing, perhaps it was what heaven feels like. Others would call it sinful, partaking in things no human was meant to know or experience. The folly of humanity.

It was certainly addictive though. Whispered words echoed in every tongue. With every contact a new chorus created. The memories of long dead god flashed and worlds yet unawakened showed themselves. And just when it seemed like everything in the universe had collided and finally made sense...it was over.

There was a knock on the door.

Danny managed to roll the breathless, Tim off with a groan. He stretched feeling a bit locked up. He had been holding each other for a while now.

He opened the door and saw Kon standing there nervously.

"Look, Im sorr-"

"Danny?" Tim called out groggily interrupting whatever Kon was saying.

"I'm busy," Danny said quickly closing the door to go back to...you know.

(So were they having sex or just cuddling? I have no fucking idea and I wrote this. I feel like it's a secret third that is somehow worse.)

[dayasfilms]

RETICENT - A STRANGER THINGS SERIES

Summary: You have always been determined to protect the ones you love from danger. While dealing with heartbreak, loss, and love, you refuse for your past traumas to affect you in all of this mess, especially not to interdimensional monsters.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warnings: This story contains mature themes such as sexual content, strong language, violence, mentions of alcohol and drugs, blood, gore, and death. I’ll try not to write Y/N, but no promises. There may be some mistakes in information since this is only fanfiction and it is only kept in for the plot, so do not expect everything to be factual. Any specific warnings will be included in the chapter itself.

Note: I decided to rewrite my entire Stranger Things series. It used to be an original female character (Aria Kaul) but now it is just a female reader. The only thing about this reader is that her last name will remain as Kaul because of her mother and they are both important characters in the story. Other than that, the first name is completely your choice. I have also changed many things within the story as I have come up with a lot of new ideas since finishing the series three years ago. If you have read the original Reticent, I hope you like this revised version. If this is your first time reading, I hope you enjoy it!

Stranger Things Masterlist

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•• Season One

•• Season Two

•• Season Three

•• Season Four

STATUS: Complete (Until Season Five)

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•• Reticent One Shots and Blurbs

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Get Added to My ST Taglist

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[rory-multifandom-mess]

Another fun fact, the pod Thad travels in has an AI, which he coded to sound and speak like Lizzy. He misses his sister ok. Anyway. When he goes to a new universe, it’ll give a short synopsis of what’s different. I’ll use @wildlionva’s Mercy Drones and Mansion AUs as examples

Mercy Drones; “In this universe, the human scientists were actually smart for once and created an ‘anti-virus’ program called the Mercy program. You, along with Lizzy and Alice, have this mutation.”

Elliott's Mansion AU; “In this universe, nothing goes wrong in the mansion; you and all of your friends and family end up in the Elliott’s manor as well, and your LED colors determine the job you do in the manor. Haha, you have to clean up trash, idiot.”

Yeah she’s kinda mean. The length of these synopses will change depending on how complex the AU is. Here’s an example of a less complex, and thus, shorter synopsis using my Late Solver Sam AU:

Late Solver Sam AU; “In this universe, Sam doesn’t die because Uzi thinks he’s infected with the solver even though he isn’t because she’s an idiot. Turns out, yes he is.”

I can’t think of any AUs I can use to show how much longer the synopsis’s can get but. yuh. whips and naenaes

Oh btw he calls the ship Liz, which is an acronym; Linear Interdimensional Zeta-shifter

Time Traveler AU Thad’s cool time traveling pod has a bunch of decorations in it; meaning all the old stuff from his room. How did he get them?

He stole from other versions of himself. Nah I’m kidding. He found Universes where he either dies in it or is just never able to return to Copper-9 and then stole stuff from those. Though it was never too much, y’know, just to be sure. Yeah his morality is a little shot but y’knooow. Shit happens.

Also! The pod has like a “spectation” feature where he can select a universe and a person and kinda watch past events from their perspective. He doesn’t do it often because he knows it’s an invasion of privacy, but he did use it like once or twice on Main Universe J and V because its really hard to place wtf happened to make them the way they are.

These Were Mistakes. He has never touched that feature since.

Oh hey, you hit the under the cut thingy! Awesome! You’re in for a fun fact then!

[universeEntity”THAD���Status;; Missing]

[Msg;AbsoluteSolver;] He can not hide forever. Sinister smile.

[madschiavelique]

accidentally overstimulating miguel while you’re riding him so he literally has to lift you up off him and he’s like “okay, yeah, that’s enough”

yESSSSS AAAA (i know this is not a request per se but i felt like writing a lil smth about it)

summary : overstimulating miguel while riding him to the point where he has to lift you off him... so he fingers you and gives you oral instead

content warnings : SMUT (18+) minors dni, pnv sex, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), reader riding migul, overstimulation, no use of Y/N, fem!reader word count : 839

tag list : @fandom-ash

Miguel couldn't wait, it had been too long since you and him had fucked. The reasons were varied: you were on a mission and he wasn't, he was on a mission and you weren't, you were both on a mission and had to take care of business, or you had to take care of reports and other interdimensional problems.

So when you had a little more free time and he welcomed you into his home, he couldn't hold on any longer. He'd double-locked the door, and as soon as he'd done that, he'd guided you in the bedroom, pulled down your bottom, practically ripped off your panties and thrust himself inside you.

And now you'd been in there for over an hour. You were on top of Miguel, riding him, undulating your body perfectly on top of him as he just had an orgasm.

He'd gripped your buttocks tightly, taking your skin entirely between his fingers as he'd pressed his pelvis as close to yours as possible to go deep inside you.

At last, he'd let his head rest on his pillow.

Only you hadn't stopped moving. The sensations you were experiencing were delicious, his whole length and width plunged into you and stretching you to perfection. The rocking of your hips was delicious, yet Miguel's sensitivity was beginning to kick in.

It was as if you were gently caressing a fresh wound, each movement turning the touch into a painful grip.

He grunted, sighing as you continued your movements. He looked at you, absolutely magnificent above him.

He had no desire to interrupt your pleasure, to suddenly stop the superb sounds you were producing thanks to him - he was too proud of making them.

But the sensation was becoming less and less sustainable, and with a final grunt he gripped your thighs firmly and lifted you off him to let his cock fall back against his lower belly, still glistening with your juices.

"Okay," he huffed, completely out of breath and relieved, "yeah, that's enough."

You looked at him, equally breathless, the small regret that it stopped so suddenly settling on your face.

Miguel felt almost guilty at your apologetic expression, but he was unable at the moment to continue satisfying you like this, unless he proceeded otherwise...

"Still wanna go at it, nena?" he questioned, stroking your thigh.

You nodded softly, the warm desire in your lower belly still present and demanding attention.

"I'll give you a choice then," he nodded, "choose: fingers, or mouth?"

You bit your lower lip with a smile before only leaning into him and confirming:

"Both."

A low rumble vibrated in his chest as a sneer stretched one of his lips in a dark smile.

"Good choice."

In one swift movement you found yourself in his place and he in yours, towering over you with his massive body as he began a trail of kisses across your skin and you chirped under his touch.

He moved down to your lower belly, leaving small marks in his wake before bringing his hand to your wet folds, coating two of his fingers with your wetness before sliding them in.

The shaky breath you took made Miguel smile against your skin, the warmth of his breath crashing against your exposed flesh. You deserved this attention, and he was going to give it to you.

As his fingers slowly began to curve in and out of you, he came to kiss your skin, moving down with each kiss towards your clit. The sensation of his lips grazing the latter inevitably brought your hand to rest in his hair as you arched your back.

The gesture elicited a slight moan from him, which vibrated on the sensitive ball of nerves, and you sighed a mix of a breath and a moan.

His tongue made sinuous circles around your clit as his two fingers accelerated slightly. He knew which places he had to touch to make you produce the sweetest sounds, and he wasn't going to deprive himself of hearing them.

He would never tire of seeing in your eyes even the size of your desire, and he would never tire of the idea that it was meant for him. He knew how lucky he was.

Your walls were perfect, taking his thick, long fingers into you so good. He curved them while making smaller and smaller circles centered on your clit, kissing and licking it.

The state you'd been in just a few moments ago while riding Miguel was close to orgasm, and his calculated gestures were going to push you over the edge. Instinctively, your pelvis began to undulate on its own.

Your hands gripped his hair more firmly, your breath quickening as the heat rose to your cheeks and the knot tightened in your belly.

And then it all exploded, Miguel tenderly kissing your skin as you felt like he was kissing a second heart beating in your entire body. He waited a bit before pulling out his two fingers gently, bringing them to his lips, sucking them until all your juices were clean from his fingers.

Then rose to kiss you, murmuring tender words to your ears.

"You're amazing, nena, and I need you to know it."

[seeinginthedark]

This is a 3 minute video about the generation born 1988-1995 . I call them the chosen ones or the spiritual warriors. They are here on spiritual missions . They have a specific astrological planetary alignment that indicates they are here to make history.

I talk about some of the infiltration attempts of this group of chosen ones , made by our enemies in the spiritual war.

If you are from this generation, the millennials, stay safe . Resist the social programming tactics and woke mind virus tactics. If you’ve been experiencing spiritual warfare recently or throughout your whole life, hang in there. Help is on its way , ok . It is .

I’ll update you with more information as it comes to me.

[spitdrunken]

man. still have NOT managed to get my hands on the book of bill because it's sold out literally everywhere over here, but have any of you seen the new 'how not to draw' vid on the disney youtube channel that features bill? it really got me thinking.

notes: fourth wall breaking, obsessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships, implied sexual content, implied mind control

it's heavily implied that the video takes place in a world where gravity falls is supposedly fictional, like our own. bill literally says he's going to break the fourth wall! because i'm a sucker for fourth wall breaks and characters being aware of their own fandom (to an extent), i simply just HAD to run with this scenario.

i just like the idea of 'you' being just a person, some totally, in the large scheme of things, insignificant human walking the earth. you have a tendency for escapism, perhaps. you have always been drawn to stories. you like gravity falls. maybe it was something you watched while you were younger and recently rewatched, or an interest that had never waned. regardless, bill cipher, charismatic and unapologetically evil villain that he is, is one of your favourites.

you doodle him on the edges of paper when you're supposed to be doing anything else. (regardless of anyone's artistic skills, it's not difficult to draw a triangle with a top hat and an eye, is it?) and in this world, you are hardly the only one who likes him, who, perhaps, ships himself with him, who thinks about him a lot. who makes drawings and writes or reads fic. you don't think it's all that unusual.

in a stroke of luck or, depending on how you look at it, the exact opposite, the universe's idea of a cosmic joke, you are the one to catch bill's eye. (it's, after all, much easier to infiltrate the dreams of someone who already has you on their mind. makes sense, doesn't it? a tentative, wavering link had been formed already.) there, in your dreams, he tells you what to say--triangulum, entangulum. meteforis dominus ventium. meteforis venetisarium--and the next morning, you remember it clear as a memory.

you do it. for funsies. why wouldn't you? you don't expect it to actually work. he's a fictional interdimensional demon. why would it work? but much to your surprise, and horror, because surely a screw must've gotten loose for this to be happening, one of your little doodles has life blown to it. as a response to your summon, a tiny little bill cipher darts across your paper, alive but still confined.

(you've given him an in. now, he only has to take the crack you've opened for him, dig his fingers in, and tear it open.)

oh, he'll be funny! he'll be exactly what you thought of him. perhaps he even voices a line of dialogue you swore you wrote down somewhere days prior. yes, he's read whatever you wrote or read, whatever you looked at. he's keeping it himself for now. it's not easy to inflate his ego further, but you might have succeeded. rather than a meatbag, bill first looks upon you with the eye of someone presented with a puppy. fundamentally lesser, but capable of being something with the right training.

he urges you to make a deal with him and the promise he'll act out whatever fantasy you've been cooking up in that brain of yours, even if it's gross and weird and physically impossible!

he'll warp your dimension to make all of it possible!!! it's great!!! don't worry about it!!!!!!

…you don't do it. you don't touch the paper. you've seen the show, and you aren't stupid. bill nearly balks. he'd expected you to be the easiest mark of all time, but he suppose he forgot that even puppies have teeth. that's fine. he can work with this. because even though you have not let him in yet, and you refuse to shake his hand through the paper, you don't seperate yourself from him just yet.

you could oh so easily take the piece of paper he's on and throw it in the nearest shredder. or set him on fire. in you, he recognises lingering curiosity, and the excitement at having stood out, at being chosen, in one way or another. it's not hopeless yet.

he can play a bit of a longer game, then. he's been at this for a long, long time. he'll tolerate the paper he's on being folded into a little square and tucked into your breast pocket, granting him a view of your life and the world you're living in. (all the time, his hunger grows.) your decision not to throw him away ends up being your downfall. spending so much time with bill, letting him joke around with you, complaining about your problems… it takes a while for you to realise that, for a while now, he has not been speaking out loud anymore, but instead through your mind.

a connection that cannot be cut has been formed in between two of you.

on bill's part, he had thorougly expected to be bored. but perhaps it's your genuine interest in him, not the things he's offering, which he does not often see. (he's been down this road before. won't end well. but...) the sheer mundanity of your life that makes him wish he could twist and turn it all around. or just a random alignment of the stars. the heart doesn't always follow logic. in this scenario, at some point, bill realises that he has become genuinely invested in you, too. and at that point, you'll never manage to slip away. he's already dug in his heels in your mind far enough. you had no adequate protection.

he still wants to take over your world. he still wants to escape the discomforting flatness of the paper you've summoned him in. but, perhaps, you two could share that meatsack of a body of yours, before things get that far.

[namelessgakusei]

Extra EP. 1.3 Conflagration

Devil May Cry x Reader Insert

Warnings: It's DMC. Based on the New Netflix Series. Spoiler warnings for the actual show. Not proofread.

EP. 1.2 COMBUSTION (prev.)

EP. 2.1 Lead us not into temptation (cont.)

Synopsis: Unbeknownst to you and Dante, there are people plotting to bring the two of you down.

Deep within the Whitehouse gathered various people of authority, united for the same agenda of addressing the strange Vatican City Bombing. Dr. Fisher explains that a network of terrorist demons might be behind the attack, a claim immediately questioned by the general of the military, saying that America shouldn't entertain such ridiculous notions. Suddenly, a voice cuts in, defending the doctor's claim.

Vice President Baines turned to the general to his left, the glare accumulated from years of tactical management visible in his face. "I assure you, he is serious."

Dr. Fisher continued his presentation, saying that demons are related but separate from humans when it came to the evolutionary branch, having tested the DNA left on the scene. He explains that they exist and are natives from another universe, a parallel plane to Earth. While the talk about their place of origins continued to escalate, Vice President Baines furrowed his brows, deep in thought.

Mythology exists to explain Reality, said the doctor.

Apparently, there exists an interdimensional rift that acts as a bridge between the two universes, although it has been blocked for millennia by a field of quantum interference. There had been natural disruptions that makes way for demons to pass through, but are unstable enough to only let lesser ones in, enabling them to blend in the crowd. The president sputters and struggles to keep up, asking what this all means.

"Which means the big demons are stuck on the other side." Dr. Fisher nods. When asked about his employer, the presentation changed to reveal the organization. "Dark Realm Command." The bright red color contrasted the black screen as the insignia reveals the rest of the name. "DARKCOM, as our PR department insists we call it."

"DARKCOM is an independent dimensional security firm, funded by private investments, such as my own." Baines' voice made everyone shift to his direction, understanding well on who has the real power within the room. The lull in the room was broken by a hurried employee who insists on making everyone see the contents of the tape he delivered.

The screen plays the last moments of the group of criminals who raided the Vatican City Museum, revealing the culprit behind the attack, the White Rabbit. He spoke of a name, Sparda, as he marvels at the sword. This ignites the curiosity of the doctor, having heard the name before. But what soon followed in the feed was the brutal deaths of the men and the Rabbit's taunting words. "The gates of Hell will open soon enough."

"To any sapiens wishing to join the celebration," It's clear that the Rabbit planned for this video to be found, as it's like he's speaking directly to the leaders of America. "If you want to catch a rabbit, find the hunter."

"Hope to see you all there♡"

The thief screamed in agony as the Rabbit continuously stabbed him, laughing manically as the man dies.

The president staggered to get up on his feet, still shaken from what he saw, saying that this is all too much to deal with. Baines assured him that this is all real. Hell is real. And this is the start of the Holy War that Humanity should win.

"I believe the demon is toying with us." Dr. Fisher's expression hardened, nodding to the executives in front of him. "Giving us a clue to its next move. We need to figure out who this hunter is, which can only mean..."

"A Demon Hunter."

Baines' posture straightened up as he barks a command, voice low like a storm about to hit. "Find every demon hunter you can. And bring them to me."

Paranormal offices were raided, hunters were captured, beaten up if they resist, as they were all brought together in interrogation rooms. Frauds were weeded out from actual hunters, but it didn't saved them from getting hurt here and there. No matter how much they fight, they were always asked the same thing.

Do you know the White Rabbit?

Finally someone spoke up. A man, tanned with dyed blond hair, asked for a cigarette in exchange for his information. He said he knows a guy, a broker for demon hunters and mercenaries, a hustler who feeds off the bottom of the bottom feeders. "Last time I saw him, he told me how he'd set up this job for a talking bunny."

"I didn't give him much thought, coming from a serial liar and a drunk." The chained up demon hunter smirked at the other side of the one way glass.

"But maybe he wasn't lying." And perhaps he wasn't, and if it adds up, it means the White Rabbit was operating in New York. "Give me a name." Baines glared back, although he knew that the man can't see him from the other side of the glass.

The club was crashed in by a SWAT unit, their black uniforms completely out of place under the colorful lighting, demanding the whereabouts of Enzo Ferino. People screamed in surprise but didn't budged, either too high or drunk to care, but their target wasn't. Enzo jumped over a table and bolted upon seeing the cops, passing through the dancing crowd, who weren't too pleased by his hurried movements.

He thought he was safe when the fire exit was on his sight, cackling at his escape from imprisonment once again, only to get a door slammed to his face. The staff member gaped as Enzo was apprehended.

Enzo woke up with a start, handcuffs on his wrists and an electric shock clip about to get connected to his skin. "Before we start, you should know that I'll tell you anything you ask me about any subject!" He sputtered, narrowly avoiding getting electrocuted. That seemed to work, as the clip was withdrawn, but it didn't stopped the information broker to try and get the situation "under his control". "Now, let's talk compensation—"

The clip was nearly shoved to his face.

"Alright, I'll do it for free! You guys should really learn how to negotiate properly."

"Tell us about the White Rabbit." Baines' voice boomed from the speaker. Enzo chuckled and started recalling the events of their meeting. "He showed up at my office with a job that needed expediting."

"And that didn't seem strange to you?" Baines looked like he was about to murder someone as he leans closer to the mic. "A six-foot talking rabbit." But it only made Enzo scoff, saying that in his line of work, it's only a slow Tuesday. "Some demons making noise over on the west side that he wanted clipped. Calling too much attention to themselves and whatnot."

"Why? What did it mattered to him?"

"Y'know, I saw the price he was offering and I must've forgot to ask." Enzo shrugged and grinned. "One thing about it that struck me as funny is that, he has a particular demon hunter he wanted me to hire." He grimaced, shivering at the memory. "Wouldn't take anyone else."

"Who?"

"Kid named Dante."

Enzo frowned after that, saying that he's a sweet kid. "Bit of a troubled past, though. You know how it is, Dad not around. Mom and twin brother brutally murdered by demons. Y'know, that sort of thing." Before grinning again with a, somehow, proud expression. "Got attached to my kid though! They're practically hip to hip! Can't separate them for too long, else they get antsy."

The last part was promptly ignored in favor of digging up information on Dante. Dr. Fisher successfully pulled out his file and began snooping for details they could use. "Dante. Last name unknown." His mugshot was unserious, picking his nose and not standing straight. "Looks like he also works as a standard hired gun. Oh! And if half of what I'm reading here is true, his capabilities are extraordinary."

"What else do we have on him?" Baines frowned while the doctor marveled at what he saw. "Anything that explains the Rabbit's interest?"

"Hmm. It is said here that he always works with another demon hunter regardless of any mission. And he's recorded going AWOL from five separate jobs."

"Why?"

"It just says... Ugh." Dr. Fisher looks disappointed. "Got bored?"

Baines frowned, and asked about the other demon hunter, making the doctor pull out another file. Dr. Fisher's eyes widened at your document, there you stood properly for a mugshot photo, only glaring too much at the camera.

[Demon Hunter PII]

Name: (Y/N)

DoB: Unknown

Age: Unknown

Address: 862 Divine Street, Brooklyn, NY, 11206

Sex: [redacted]

Nationality: Unknown

H: [redacted]

W: [redacted]

EC: [redacted]

HC: [redacted]

Skin: [redacted]

Prof: Hunting High Ranking Demons

[Document Title]

Demon Hunting Evaluation Report

[Subject]

Name: (Y/N)

Occupation: Mercenary, Demon Hunter, Information Broker

Affiliated Group: None

[Overview]

This report serves to outline the evaluation of (Y/N), a demon-hunting mercenary and information broker, in both their job performance and comprehensive performance.

[Contents]

- Successfully completed every mission using a variety of self-made guns inside their briefcase.

- Capable of dealing with multiple enemies alone with their physical ability and agility.

- Always accompanied with the Demon Hunter, Dante and vice versa.

- Often acts as a mediator between Dante and their team mates, keeping him in line and solving conflicts before it arises.

- Their great combat skills and quick thinking are well-acknowledged, but their mutual reliance to Dante showcases their codependency.

[Combat Experience & Skills]

- 10+ years of being an information broker

- 5+ years of demon-hunting experience

- Has an excellent reputation in the black market and the demon hunter community.

- Experienced in battles with various types of demons; specializes in tracking and documenting demons.

- Highly skilled in marksmanship and weaponsmithing.

- Outstanding crisis management ability in dangerous situations and great tactical knowledge

- Skillful with military weapons and firearms, creates makeshift weapons within record time.

- Specializes in close-combat.

[Personality]

- Level-headed and cautious

- Confident in their ability and power

- Constantly seen bickering with Dante, even in dangerous situations, but compliments each other in combat.

- Can be flexible and work together as a team to complete missions, but usually works with Dante.

- Sharp and observant.

[Remarks]

Unauthorized access to classified missions.

Reason: DANTE GOT BORED AND I WAS CURIOUS. Y'KNOW, OLD HABITS DIE HARD.

*Assumed to be referring to their occupation as a broker, further investigation is due to find out if there will be a leak.

[Evaluation Report]

Mercenary (Y/N) demonstrates distinguished demon-hunting abilities. However, they need to be able to operate independently.

Further caution needs to be exercised when interacting with them due to their tendency to dig into your background.

"This is quite the combination." The doctor beamed. "This must be the kid that Mr. Ferino talked about. If they are really attached to each other..."

"We could use them to lure Dante out." Baines narrowed his eyes towards your picture.

"I heard a rumor once about demons who were too powerful to cross over, so they learned how to project their consciousness into our world and possess stuff, poltergeist-style." Enzo's warden was the unfortunate victim of his ranting. "You ask me, that's what this White Rabbit is. A possessed kid's toy." The broker grins towards the speaker, which replies to him with—

"I didn't asked."

"Look, look, look, that's all I know. If you're after his location, I can't help you. I only saw him once." Enzo shrugged and groaned, but Baines assured him that they already know where to look, as a man with a rabbit head can only avoid surveillance for so long. This made the broker scoff, saying that there won't be any survivors even if they send a team. But Baines replied with a cold voice.

"There was only one."

Before he sighed over the mic, asking of what he knows about the Sword of Sparda. Enzo tried retelling the tale that everyone knows, about the demon that rebelled against his own kind and sided with humanity, but the vice president cut him off, demanding him to give new information. This made the broker raise a brow but nonetheless complied, having no choice, as he reveals the existence of an amulet. The doctor immediately went to work and realized that it was the missing piece of the puzzle, that it was the transmitter that enabled the separation of the two worlds and while the demon technology is medieval, their understanding of the quantum principles is far more advanced than Humanity in its current era.

But Enzo said that the amulet was split into two, so there will be no way for the realms to be open to each other without limit; so long as the amulet remains broken, so will Armageddon remain as just a myth. It didn't stopped the doctor from listing out the worse possible scenarios, however, before being silenced by Baines, saying that they won't let it happen as it is the DARKCOM's purpose.

Their divine charge.

To be the last line of defense against the Inferno.

The Vice President mulled over the fact that the Rabbit already have the first half of the amulet, only for the door to swing open, with a jittery soldier coming out of it. It's the survivor, the doctor says, Anders from the J-Squad. The soldier insists on having sensitive information that he just had to say it directly to Baines, concerning the Rabbit and the end of the world.

"I heard the Rabbit say something after he'd done this. He was pissed off, furious, sir. He knows where the other half of the amulet is, and he tried to get it back already. But his plan failed."

"He's gonna try again. Soon."

Baines narrowed his eyes at Anders, inquiring more of the plan that the Rabbit said. But the soldier shook his head, saying that he doesn't know that much, only something about hiring someone for a set-up job. "Whoever it was, that's who has the other piece, sir."

Realization dawned to both Baines and Dr. Fisher as they both turned to the yawning Enzo.

"Dante."

taglist!: @mischiefmanaged71 @tamashithe2nd @im-just-a-simp-le-whore @96jnie

[tea-dragonz]

Talking about every Invisible Davis / Queen Kat MCRP series that I've watched (non-spoiler reviews I guess)

There aren't enough people in the Invisible Davis / Queen Kat fandom who talk about their Minecraft series, especially with all the new fans coming in. So I'll talk about them and hopefully it gets more people interested in the series. Won't be every series because I haven't watched all of them, but it's a good chunk of them

If you've watched a series and want to add your thoughts on it, feel free to add on! If you haven't watched the series that I'll talk about, take this as a review/recommendation of sorts

Fairy Tail Origins (S5 Invisible Davis Studios)

Fairy Tail Origins is a multi POV series based on the world of the Fairy Tail anime, though it has its own original plots and characters so you don't need to watch the anime first. This is also the first series that Davis did with the OriginsMCRP group. This was the first MCRP series I watched from Davis and the Origins group in general, so it has a bit of a special place in my heart. TBH there isn't much of a plot for most of his POV, and I would personally say that I do prefer the stories of other POVs to his. However, the thing that really carries Davis' POV for me is the interactions between Davis' character and others. I love the found family dynamic he has with Betty and Damien, and to a lesser extent with his guild mates in La Carnival and fellow dragon slayer Bryan. Compared to most of the other series on the list, it's pretty chill, but that doesn't mean it doesn't have it's own interesting moments.

SCP (S1 Invisible Davis Studios + Queen Kat Productions [partway through], S2 Invisible Davis Studios + Queen Kat Productions)

The SCP series is, unsurprisingly, based on the lore of the SCP Foundation. As someone with little knowledge of SCP, I felt like they explained things pretty well here, so you don't need to do a huge deep dive just to understand this series. The premise of the series starts off with Davis as a D-class and Kat as a scientist in charge of experimenting on him, and that's all I can reveal without spoiling the main meat of the series. There are moments of action and horror (ngl the episode with the staircase definitely freaked me out a bit), though the character interactions are definitely a main draw for me, especially later on. Definitely a must watch, especially if you're into sci-fi. Kat's episode 1 of Season 1 lines up around episode 40-ish of Davis' Season 1 (because Kat started her POV much later). Currently Kat's Season 2 is over, and we have yet to see Davis' Season 2 finale (though it does seem to be something that is being worked on).

Otso and Derpy Adventures (S1+S2 Queen Kat Productions) + Toby's FNAF Adventures (Queen Kat Productions)

Otso and Derpy Adventures is about the titular characters, Otso and Derpy, who are siblings with interdimensional abilities. The best way I can describe this is like 75% crack humor and 25% lore and/or drama. One episode they'll be at the beach and Otso will bust out a flying bathtub, and in another they'll be arrested and put on trial for breaking interdimensional laws. It gets pretty meta, and ever once in a while Otso and Derpy will break the fourth wall or acknowledge that they're in a minecraft roleplay. Because of its nature as a series about hopping between dimensions, you'll see references to Kat and Davis' other works here, as well as references to Otso and Derpy in their other shows. There's also a lot of lore about the different versions of Kat and Davis across the multiverse and it gets surprisingly intense at points. Definitely a bit of a daunting series to get into, both because of the 400+ episode count and the references to other series. I personally wouldn't recommend this one if you're relatively new to Kat and Davis' content, I'd watch at least a couple other series before this one. But as someone who hasn't watched all of their series (including one of the ones referenced the most here), I wouldn't say that not getting all the references takes me out of it or anything. Especially in Season 2, it has enough of its own plot and lore to stand on its own.

I also added Toby's FNAF Adventures here as it is kind of an interlude between Seasons 1 and 2 of Otso and Derpy. It follows the younger brother of Otso and Derpy, Toby, on his own adventures that seem unconnected to Otso and Derpy until the finale. It's a very short watch, and the series was supposed to be longer but was unfortunately cut short due to low viewership. It's loosely based on the space portion of Bonnie's Adventures. Because of its short length and how it bridges Toby's character arc between Seasons 1 and 2 of Otso and Derpy, I do think that people should watch it if they're watching that series as well.

My Hero Origins (S1 Invisible Davis Studios, S2 Invisible Davis Studios + Queen Kat Productions)

My Hero Origins is a multi POV series made by the Origins group based on My Hero Academia. It follows the premise of a bunch of kids with quirks (superpowers) going to a school where they learn to be pro heroes. Davis' POV follows Davis as he balances schoolwork in the daytime and vigilante work at night (also gonna note here that MHO Davis was written with autistic coding in mind). The POV also includes one of the villain characters for this series, who is one of my personal favorites, both for his time as a villain and the voice Davis gave him. It's got a solid plot and characters, though I can't bring up MHO without bringing up the action scenes and cinematics. There are several throughout the series, since it is still a superhero series. There is an hour-long almost fully cinematic episode about 3/4ths of the way through the series, and it is genuinely one of the most impressive things I've seen created in minecraft. Would recommend this if you're into more action-oriented stuff.

Season 2 didn't do as well so it was cut short, though it may end up being revived in the future. It takes place a few years after MHO, now with only two POVs: Davis (who is trying to make it as a pro hero but has to deal with hero agencies that prioritize money and popularity over doing real good) and Kat (who is going to a college for pro heroes). I found it an interesting concept, and it genuinely is a shame that is wasn't finished. Whether you actually watch this one is up to you, I don't really like recommending unfinished series, but I still think it's still pretty solid for what we got.

Origins of Olympus (S3 Invisible Davis Studios)

Origins of Olympus is a multi-POV series based mainly on Greek mythology, but Seasons 2 and 3 include other pantheons as well. Despite the gripes I have with Origins of Olympus as a whole and its portrayal of certain cultures, the Mors/Xiphos POV by Davis is my personal favorite Origins series that he did. He has two POV characters here: Mors, the son of Thanatos, and Xiphos, whose identity I shouldn’t spoil. I have so many thoughts about Mors that I’ve already said here on this account, and though I’m not normally a fan of edgier or more morally reprehensible characters, I absolutely loved him (it might just be me though, he’s a pretty divisive character in the OoO fandom). Though I’m not as big of a fan of Xiphos, I think that the arc he has here is surprisingly pretty deep. Both characters’ backstories tie into events from Seasons 1 & 2, which Davis does not have a POV for, though as someone who watched Season 3 with limited knowledge of the other 2 seasons, I’d say they give you enough information to be caught up at the very least. There’s also Korina and Kat (both played by Kat) and Luchnos as side characters who are absolutely wonderful here, and I’ll talk about one of them a bit more later on. Also, shoutout to the cinematics in this series; there’s two big fight scenes that come to mind that are absolutely iconic, and the opening scene of the first episode is great at establishing exactly what kind of series you’re getting yourself into. I highly recommend this series.

Korina's Origin (Queen Kat Productions)

So I mentioned Korina back in the Origins of Olympus section; she gets her own series in the form of Korina's Origin. It explores Korina's backstory and her history with Mors, Thanatos, and Luchnos before the events of OoO Season 3. Out of all of the series that Kat and Davis have done so far this is one of my favorite, if not the top favorite, series of their that I have watched. It is very character and relationship focused if you're into that, and it is something I really enjoy about the series. I have talked about Mors and Thanatos and Korina at length on my blog, and that's because I find the characters and relationships so wonderfully complex and human that I always find something new to analyze about it. This is a series with a decent amount of moral grayness and decisions made by characters that you my not agree with, and I am living for it. Similarly to OoO, it is heavily based on mythology, though thankfully it keeps the focus narrowed to primarily Greek mythology (with occasional references to Norse and Egyptian mythology, probably because of the proximity of their pantheons). It does take a lot of liberties from the source material, such as changing which gods are related to each other (Kat has said this is to avoid the incest prevalent in Greek mythology, which is fair). Imo it does start slowing down a bit in the final 20-30 episodes, but it's not something that ruins the series for me. So overall, I absolutely recommend watching Korina's Origin. I would personally recommend watching Origins of Olympus before Korina's Origin for a bit more context, though you can still watch this one on its own. Also KO is probably gonna come back for Season 2 at some point so now would be a good time to start watching it.

Bonnie's Adventures (S1 + S2 Invisible Davis Studios)

I actually haven't finished watching this one. FNAF stuff isn’t usually my thing as I’m not really in the fandom, but I would recommend watching it anyways, especially since it’s one of the more popular series in Davis’ fandom (and gets referenced in other series a lot). It’s basically a rewrite of a FNAF forever series that Davis used to work on, and I think it’s fairly solid for what it is. I especially kind of enjoy the development of the relationship between Freddy and Bonnie, and how their different ideals affect that development. I should probably finish this at some point lol

Supernatural Origins (Invisible Davis Studios)

Supernatural Origins is a multi POV series that was surprisingly not based on the TV show, but instead on the general concept of supernatural beings. Davis' POV follows vampire hunter Isaac, his niece Willow, a vampire noblewoman named Lady Cecilia, and a vampire servant named Dimitri. The large amount of characters in a single POV gives the viewer a lot to follow, but all of them are connected in some way so it makes it a little less daunting. This is one of the series that unfortunately wasn't given an ending due to burnout/other constraints. Kinda sad that such an interesting series was never realized to its full potential, but thankfully these characters and some of their plot threads were reused for a series that we'll talk about later on. I do recommend watching it, but do prepare to be left on a bit of a cliffhanger.

Fairy Tail (Invisible Davis Studios)

Similar premise to Fairy Tail Origins, except it's only Davis' POV now, and basically it revolves around Davis joining a magic guild called Wolf Claw while trying to come to terms with and atone for his past, standard action-fantasy shenanigans occur. Though this Davis is basically the same as FTO Davis design and personality wise, this series is set in a completely separate continuity and mostly has different characters, and now Davis' character actually has a solidified story to follow. This is one of the series where Kat and Davis took a their characters from Origins and gave them their own series as a reboot of sorts. The plot here is a lot more solid, the characters are great (Astrid is a fave of mine), and the actions cinematics are amazing (though due to constraints that Davis mentioned they may not return as much in season 2, so cherish them here). Still keeps some of the found family aspects from FTO, but switch out some of the characters. Overall a solid watch that I would recommend.

Sword Art Origins (Invisible Davis Studios)

Basically a multi POV series that is based on Sword Art Online. Gonna be real with you all, I keep forgetting this one exists. Generally it was kinda bleh imo, but it was the last series by Origins before it officially disbanded so I kind of get it. For what little Davis made of this series, it had an intimidating villain and did a good job of setting up the stakes/plot. Don't really recommend this one because of how short and inconclusive it was, and also apparently there was stuff going on behind the scenes of this series that really hit the fan. But who knows? The characters might be recycled for a future series.

The Backrooms (Invisible Davis Studios + Queen Kat Productions)

Another short series, though at least this one has an ending. Basic premise is that this series' Kat and Davis get trapped in the Backrooms and try to escape. It focuses mainly on the horror of the entities in the Backrooms, though there's also some element of human horror in it (if that makes sense). Davis (the creator, not the character) himself isn't really a fan of how the series turned out. I think it's pretty alright for what it is, but otherwise don't have a lot to say about it. I recommend both POVs for being a short watch combined, if nothing else (and I really do recommend both POVs because Kat's version has the ending for both of them).

Undertale (Invisible Davis Studios)

This is a minecraft roleplay based on the hit indie game Undertale. The basic premise is that Davis, a park ranger stationed near Mount Ebott, catches Frisk as they are about to fall down to the Underground on their hundredth or so run of the game. As a result, the two of them fall down into the Underground together and become linked. Davis tries to find a way out of the Underground with Frisk while Frisk tries to speedrun Undertale without Davis getting in the way. It's a pretty unique concept for an Undertale AU imo, though sadly it was one of the series that got cut short. It fortunately does get a finale, though it is a bit of a controversial ending to some. I really like the little details here that tie things back to the game while changing things up due to the minecraft medium and events being from the perspective of Davis, such as how the fights are translated from the game to minecraft, Davis being unable to see save points but Frisk being able to interact with them, and the random comments Frisk makes that are references to the game text. I do personally recommend this if you are a fan of Undertale. Like I said before, the ending might not be for everyone, though it might be a bit more interesting if you have watched Davis' other series before.

FNAF Chronicle (Invisible Davis Studios)

FNAF Chronicle is an original FNAF project that takes elements from the games, movies, and books. This series' Davis becomes the new owner of the long abandoned Fazbear's location and the animatronics inside, but quickly learns there's more to them than meets the eye. Like I said previously, I don't care too much for FNAF stuff, but this series has me hooked. About half the episodes are crack humor and references to past series, while the other half is a mix of drama, mystery, and horror. I'd say that out of every series on this post that can be considered horror, this one does it the best. There are some jumpscares (which I normally hate), but they're used sparingly and most of the horror is done through the building of tension and mystery. The voice and body acting do a good job of getting across just how terrifying these situations are for Davis and the others. Plus the use of the humorous episodes is done in a way that gives you a break from the more intense aspects of the series while not being entirely detached from the plot. Definitely a good series to watch, and it's currently still in progress on Davis' channel.

The Vampire's Bride (Queen Kat Productions)

The Vampire's Bride is an isekai fantasy/romance story that also has bits of being a historical/fantasy political drama. In the first episode, after seeing TVB Kat be what can only be described as a failure at life, a portal pulls her into another dimension, where the vampire Lord Isvad declares her to be the reincarnation of his wife, Lady Kestrin. Aside from the romance between Kat and Lord Isvad, the series also goes into a lot of worldbuilding for this supernatural world and acknowledges that Kat's new role as a noblewoman is something that gives her both power over others and a target on her back. One of my favorite things about this series is the way that Kat is written. She has a lot of flaws and weaknesses that primarily come from being an outsider to this world (and not having much going for her in her previous life), but we follow her over the course of this series as she grows into this new role. Her growth into a strong woman who relies on her wits and relationship-building skills to survive in this world was really cool to see, especially since I feel like this type of character tends to be overlooked when it comes to characters that are considered "strong female characters". Also, this was the series I mentioned earlier that reuses the characters from Supernatural Origins. Isaac and Willow return, as well as part of their plotline for SNO, Lady Cecilia returns with a modified role, and Dimitri also returns. Glad to see that despite SNO not being able to have a proper ending, the characters can still have their story finished in some form (though do note that it’s still set in a separate continuity from SNO, so you don’t have to watch it to understand this). Definitely recommend watching this one, and it is still currently in progress on Kat's channel.

[nightingale-prompts]

Nightingale-Prompts masterlist

Here you go a masterlist for those who ask and if I hear anyone else ask I will cruisfy them.

Rules:

I don't write adult x minor. That especially anything that remotely eludes to Vlad x Danny.

No pregnancy stuff (cloning doesn't count but teen pregnancy is not allowed at all)

I personally don't write Jason x Danny (I don't hate it. I just don't write it myself.)

I also don't write demon twins.

I can't control what you do but be respectful of me and anyone in the comments.

Do not accuse me of not being a fan of DP comics or Danny Phantom. I grew up with both.

Do not use the content of my blog on TikTok.

I will not censor myself. If you are not old enough to understand certain topics and themes then it's just not for you.

I don't really like the flanderization of characters. So I don't encourage it here. (No, Bruce is not an abusive father. No, Damian isn't a monster. No, Jason is not right. Fentons are not abusive either. Talia is not a misunderstood victim or morally grey.)

There is more to DCxDP than Batman so I will do more than just Barman (Bit batman is my favorite I will not lie)

Any talk of Bruce x Barbara will get you removed. (That shit is TIM BRUCE'S thing and only his thing in the animated series. It is not cannon and no one wanted it!)

If something happens in one cannon and not another it doesn't automatically make it true or false. Just different interpretations on my part as a writer.

AU mean alternative universe. If you belly ache about hating DCxDP being popular just block the tag. I will try to avoid using the main tags but I will slip up by accident. But do not harass me.

Im allowed to be creative. This is just fanfiction. It is not that serious.

These are just my rules for my blog. It has no bearing on the rest of the fandom or Tumblr.

Batboy Au (First >) 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23

Beholder AU 》 Ghost Beauty Standards (Tim x Danny) 》 Deathday Party 》 Ghost Courting:Dangerous 》 Beautiful Ghosts 》 Loving Spirits 》 Pre-wedding Blues 》 Engaged...In Conflict 》 Till Death

Interdimensional Babysitter

》 Field Trip 》 Entropy

Just your average (eldritch) coffee shop AU 》 part 2 》 part 3

Two Soul 》 After Image AU 》 Two for One deal

Mixed Signals 》 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12

Movie Night 》 part 1 》 part 2

Davey the Revenant

Lay Me to Rest 》 Davey Meets Superman 》 Davey Tantrum 》 Davey goes to watchtower 》 Davey self soothes 》 Davey Plays Games 》 Davey Meets Aquaman 》 Davey and Barbara 》 Lois Lane vs Davey 》 Davey Speaks 》 Davey goes outside 》 No one likes Davey

Talents

Ghost Nests

Ghost Diet

Ghost Emotions

Lazarus What?!

Danny adopts himself

Incomprehensible Horrors

Ghostlight

God's TV

God Summoning 101

Danny lives in a Horror Movie 》 part 2

The Nightingale Family

Danny Can't Taste

Space Fae

Wild Caught Ghosts

New Cats

Overworked

Horrible Creatures

Do NOT touch a god

Is it mine?

It's in the crontract

Full List here

[aventurineswife]

so, we've seen how sahsrau would react to the reader being a simp but what about sagau how would they respond

like the reader painted a portrait of furina using a dog leash on them the world finds out about some old smut books the reader wrote about their favorite character

omg what if sahsrau found the portraits would that cause even more jealousy i mean both sides already knew we are simps so it shouldn't but who knows

I swear if I see anymore SAHSRAU or self aware au in general...-

In Teyvat, Fontaine is in flames.

Neuvillette is trying so hard not to comment, but the way his dark blue thingy (idk what's it called 🧍‍♀️) flicks betrays his emotions.

Furina? Oh, she thrives off this. She’s parading around, absolutely insufferable about being your chosen muse.

The other Archons? Jealous. Ei claims it’s improper, Zhongli sighs but does not deny he’d love a portrait too, and Venti? He’s just begging you to paint him in a worse position for fun.

Meanwhile, the Amphoreus crew sees this and immediately goes into full existential crisis.

“They drew this? For another world’s god??”

Mydei, Phainon, and Castorice all suddenly have one question: Where are our portraits?

Trailblazer is dying of laughter while Aventurine tries to commission something worse just to mess with everyone.

Oh no.

Teyvat is losing its mind.

The minute someone gets their hands on your old self-indulgent books, it spreads like wildfire.

Wanderer? (I know what you are and i have seen what you guys do to hat guy.) Red-faced, pissed, and pretending he’s never heard of you.

Alhaitham? Absolutely smug about it and will quote it back to you.

Childe? Never letting you live it down.

Neuvillette? …Contemplating the meaning of existence.

Cyno? Debating whether this is punishable by law or just really funny.

Oh, they’re mad—but not because of the content.

Because it’s NOT about them.

Blade just stares at you like he’s reconsidering everything. Dan Heng avoids eye contact. Argenti? Dramatically reciting passages like poetry.

Sunday? Oh, he’s planning revenge. He’s going to make sure he gets a dedicated volume next time.

Aventurine is just amused. He knew you were down bad. But this? This is spectacular.

Oh, absolutely. They already had an uneasy truce, but now?

Teyvat’s people are mad that you’ve clearly dedicated so much time and art to a different world.

The Star Rail characters are mad that Teyvat had the privilege of being your muse before they did.

Your inbox? A warzone of commissions, passive-aggressive requests, and straight-up demands for equal artistic attention.

Meanwhile, you? Just vibing, completely unaware of the interdimensional jealousy you’ve caused.

[ultravioletrayz]

Hi Hi! First time I'm doing this!- I just usually read fictional male characters x Reader (because I'm a simp)- Maybeeee Miguel walks on f! Reader changing or something- I HAVE NO IDEAS I'M SORRY 😭

-🪻(the emoji is to know it's me ^^ btw you can call me trin!)

AHHH TRIN THIS IS SO CUTE!! I don’t have a lot of motivation to write a full fic rn, but here’s my thoughts on the matter at hand.

Pairing: miguel o’hara x curvy!f!reader

Warnings: 18+, suggestive content, mentions of male masturbation, body descriptions, miguel being awkward, no actual smut

Summary: miguel walks in on you changing. that’s it. that’s the summary.

A/N: teehee 🤭

So, let’s just say you’re a Spider-Person. You and Miguel have to stay overnight at the Society to do surveillance on a potential interdimensional threat.

Miguel’s fine to just chill in his suit, because it’s just a fucking hologram and my man is butt naked underneath.

But your costume isn’t as comfortable, so you excuse yourself and walk off to your quarters to change into a spare set of casual clothes you keep around for times like this.

You’re taking your sweet ass time, partially because getting out of your skin tight suit is equivalent to running a marathon, but also because you’re not in a rush to get back to work.

Miguel is not a patient guy. Once you’ve been gone for an obscene amount of time, he sighs frustratedly and goes to find you.

Your door isn’t locked, because there’s barely anyone left at HQ, and you assumed Miguel would just be in his office. WRONG

Miguel sees that your door isn’t locked, and barges in, calling out your name and grumbling about how long it’s taking you to change. His sharp red eyes widen and his jaw drops when he sees you.

Tits spilling out of an old bra that’s too small for you, mismatched panties clinging to the shape of your hips, pants pulled halfway up your plump thighs.

Miguel stares at you like he’s taking a fucking mental snapshot of your half-naked body to jerk off to later. You’re staring at him with an absolutely mortified expression on your face.

“Miguel?! Get out!” You shout, trying to snap Miguel out of his horny trance as you attempt to cover your boobs and midsection with your arms, failing miserably. His gaze wasn’t offending you, but it was making you nervous.

Miguel blinks and scoffs at your yelling, but his tan, chiseled face is flushed with embarrassment. He shrugs his shoulders and glares at you as he takes a step back.

“Hay un candado por una razón, idiota.” Miguel grumbles, blaming you for the awkward interaction as well as the throbbing hard-on in his suit. (There’s a lock for a reason, idiot)

Definitely has to excuse himself a few times once you return to his office in your casual clothes. He sits in the bathroom, whimpering and grunting as he fucks his fist to the thought of him bending you over the bed in your quarters and filling you up in that very moment.

But he’s a pathetic little bitch and is left to alleviate his arousal in shame, because he doesn’t want to risk ruining your friendship.

Maybe next time…

Sorry this is so late and short, I might incorporate this in a longer fic at some point to do the concept justice.

[bylerweek2025]

Prompt list for BylerWeek 2025

Hello Byler Nation ☆

Here are the themes for Byler Week. You'll find those (and more...) below the cut 💚

Guide -> I wanted this event to feel inclusive for everyone and every type of content. The concept of Byler Week is to celebrate Byler in whatever way you can.

It shouldn't matter if you're a beginner or an advanced creator. It shouldn't matter if you're busy all day or have plenty of free time. Everyone should feel included.

For this reason, every day has a main theme, which is a color. The themes are meant to set the vibe for the day.

But it's not over yet. I felt like every day should feel like a 360° experience, so, not only you'll find a color to inspire you, but several other ideas:

A color palette

A moodboard

A song (that matches the colors, the vibes, and that has Byler-centric lyrics, woah)

3 prompts.

You can use all of these ideas as Legos, combine them as you wish ☆.

<- Previous post ☆ Next post ->

Day one (March 17th) ☆ Cobalt blue

Prompts

Blue hour

Ocean

Liminal pools

Day two (March 18th) ☆ Chili red

Prompts

Upside-down (interdimensional) portal

Rubies

Masquerade

Day three (March 19th) ☆ Mauve

Prompts

1800s ball

Butterfly effect

Lavender fields

Day four (March 20th) ☆ Gray

Prompts

Medieval knights

Growing old

Love locks

Day five (March 21st) ☆ Forest green

Prompts

Spring break

Hiking

Cottagecore

Day six (March 22nd) ☆ Gold

Prompts

Picnic

Sunset

Birthday party

Day seven (March 23rd) ☆ Rose gold

Prompts

Champagne

Engagement rings

Santa Monica Pier

+++

Extra ideas

Tag list -> @gabskullsblog @best-thing-at-this-party @drenandtarb2 @noihavenosanitythanksforasking @orlastarburst @misterfibbly @pythoness94 @dollsanddandy @sapphicsforseven @your-ivy-grows13 @dia-depeche @the--last-great-american-dynasty @elephantshoetoo @the-technorats @wistfulenchantress @vampwitchcoven @pjmin-95 @m4dlyn-s0uza @anqelsong @clericsandpaladins @lovemikewheeler @sykatz @fluffyfangirl @sara-yuna @lovebyler20 @bitchybylershipper

(If someone else wants to join, please refer to the previous post)