#interdimensional door

[shahinelected]

🇦🇿 Boyutlar arası qapılar barədə fərziyyə!

🇺🇸 Hypothesis about interdimensional doors!

🇷🇺 Гипотеза о межпространственных дверях!

🇹��� Boyutlar arası kapılar hakkında hipotez!

#shahinelected #interdimensional #boyutlar #boyutlararası #секрет #secret #sır #пространство #secrethistory

[j0vialmoon]

All da cards

I’ll list the references

Psychic Frog = Telefrog (POKÉMON UMBRA)

Phyrexian Obliterator = Evil Reptilian and Norton Campbell (Identity V)

Likeness Looter = Gabriel (The Mandala Catalogue)

Selhoff Entomber = The Caretaker, Dr. Albert Caine (Halloween Horror Nights)

Kamiz, Obscura Oculus = Interdimensional Portal (Gravity Falls)

Forgotten Creation = something (omori)

Sphinx of Enlightenment = Cyno (GENSHIN IMPACT)

Nezahal, Primal Tide = Finley (Indigo Park)

Tivit, seller of Secrets = Shopkeeper Magolor (Team Kirby Clash)

Ashen Rider = Overblot Grim and Overblot Nebula (Twisted Wonderland)

Sheoldred, Whispering One = The Shadow Queen (Paper Mario The Thousand Year Door)

Hullbreaker Horror = Robo-Crab, General Pig and General Sheep (Puppeteer)

Rona, Herald of Invasion = Truthless Recluse/Pure Vanilla Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom)

Overwhelmed Archivist = Eclair Cookie (Cookie Run Kingdom)

Everything else was made up by me

[sillywoyscreenshots]

.

[sometipsygnostalgic]

Amphibia was a show with a good season 1, a fantastic season 2, and a season 3 that left a sour taste in my mouth. I feel like getting the fbi involved and a parody version of ru paul was perhaps not the best tonal shift, and then i felt the characters were rushed into a weird ending.

[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.)

[rika-mmendmethings]

Interdimensional Epiphany l Rafayel

CHAPTER 1

Chapter 2

Summary: A fortnight of compensated leave from your company was supposed to be a rejuvenating experience. Things take an unexpected turn when Rafayel, your choice of ML, starts becoming self-aware. His love knows no bounds, not even interdimensional ones.

Warning(s): Subject to change as we progress further into the story. For the prologue, currently none. Though story has major character deaths, subdued manipulation, heavy angst with a happy(?) ending, slight yandere themes, fluff, did I mention angst?

Word count: 1.9k

Playlist coming soon.

Notes: This series is something I wrote after being inspired by Error 404 by @ittybittyfanblog. It circles around the idea of a self-aware Rafayel and the worlds he'd cross to be with the reader. This series is my spin on what could've happened with the deleted Reddit user and their self-aware Rafayel from chapter four of Error 404. However, keep in mind the plotline is entirely different. Lmk if y'all want me to add you in the tag list for this.

The multiple keys in your keychain jingled as you hurried to unlock the door to your apartment. Once inside, with the door securely shut behind you, you let out a triumphant whoop and began dancing in celebration. A wide grin spread across your face as you kicked off your heels, nearly tripping over your own feet as you made your way to your couch. When your back hit the soft plush you exhaled a euphoric sigh, feeling an overwhelming rush of dopamine fill your senses.

The reason for your happiness? A whole sum of two weeks granted as compensatory leave to your department. You and your colleagues had been working your butts off the entire march. With the financial year coming to an end, your procrastination was also forced to come to an end as you stayed up for hours preparing yearly, monthly, quarterly, and god knows how many more reports. But alas, your efforts paid off and the higher-ups were impressed by your teamwork and immaculate results and awarded your entire department a two-week reprieve.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to worry about the work that would inevitably pile up upon your return. All you knew was that in the present moment, you were practically given a corporate boon and god forbid if you don’t live it up to the fullest. You squealed again, kicking your legs like an ecstatic newborn. You stood up, stretching your arms above your head before skipping to the kitchen.

As you poured yourself a glass of juice and grabbed some leftover takeout, your mind wandered to how your life might begin to mend itself again. Not that it had ever been truly broken, but the past month had been hard enough to make you feel as though you were constantly on the edge. You loosened your tie and sank back onto the couch, blissfully relaxed, your legs casually draped over the table in front of you.

March, you concluded, had been the most unlucky month of your life. The first week had started with a quarrel with your parents when they demanded you book an immediate flight and come to your hometown immediately. You understood their feelings — they hadn’t seen their only daughter in five years — but you couldn’t just abandon everything and disappear. You had responsibilities, and no matter how much you missed your mom’s homemade pickles or your dad’s clueless grocery runs, you couldn’t drop everything for a visit. That’s what you told them, but it only led to their anger.

The second week of March brought more frustration when you were handed the work of an employee who had left the company abruptly. Internally cursing him and taking an oath to meet him in hell, you ended up shouldering his share of projects as well.

In the third week, an issue with your Sodexo meal card arose, and while you reported it to your manager, you knew it wasn’t going to be a priority for him, considering the mountain of tasks he already had to juggle at year-end.

But the final week of March truly tested your patience. In addition to the looming deadlines, your boyfriend of two years, Tyler, was giving you a migraine. He knew how packed your schedule was and had seen how much the month had already drained you, yet he still managed to pick fights over matters you thought had been long settled.

Love and Deepspace.

When you and Tyler had first committed to each other, you had sat him down and clearly explained how your love for otome games wouldn’t interfere with your relationship. What you sought in fiction was vastly different from what you needed in real life. As a self-identified "men-are-disgusting" type, you had always trusted your parents to help you understand the difference between right and wrong, and to guide you toward the right kind of person. When Tyler came into your life, he seemed to check all the boxes: good-looking, smart, organized, and a great companion. So you took a chance on love.

But over the past few months, things had taken a turn for the worse. You began to notice how inconsiderate Tyler could be toward your feelings, and how little effort he seemed to put into the relationship. On top of that, he began to criticize you for being a “merch-collecting freak” and for not knowing how to invest your money. The irony wasn’t lost on you, especially since the only "merch" you collected were plushies and a few rare 4-star banner posters — things you bought with your hard-earned money, and that you had every right to spend as you pleased. You dismissed his behavior for a while, but it all came to a head one day when you came home to find him tearing up your posters in a fit of spite.

You confronted him, demanding to know why he had destroyed your things, and his response —“You don’t need otome games when you have me”— was the breaking point. In that moment, you realized that you couldn’t even keep your own interests around him without facing ridicule. That day, you made a wise decision. You slapped him across the face and, with the help of some neighbors, you kicked him out of your apartment, officially ending the relationship once and for all.

You didn’t regret your decision one bit. Aside from the moments with him that were genuinely worth feeling sad about, you surprisingly didn’t miss him much either. It seemed that, subconsciously, you had been prepared to leave him the moment his behavior began to shift. Setting your empty utensils aside, you sprawled out on your stomach, unlocked your phone, and opened the app that had, in many ways, saved you from what could have developed into a toxic relationship.

“Some long for longevity… before fading to dust. Some long for eternal sleep…” you belted out the theme song, singing at the top of your lungs as you pressed enter. You recited aloud the random information on the white loading display: “Lemuria is an ancient, marine civilization recorded in legends. Its unique, advanced technologies are difficult to use.” You paused mid-sentence, tilting your head slightly as a thought struck you. “Does that mean Lemuria’s technologies would be far more advanced than ours if it actually existed? I’ll have to ask Reddit later.”

The game opens with a silver-haired man rubbing his chin in thought, donning a brown sweater and black slacks. It seems Sylus has decided to greet you today. He’s recently become your main choice after Rafayel in the game, but the others hold a special place in your heart as well, so you always ensure to include them when selecting who you want to meet at Destiny Café. You quickly navigate to the agenda to claim your night-login stamina before it expires. However, when you return, you’re met with a ‘failed to connect. Retry or return to login’ pop-up. You press ‘retry,’ glancing over your shoulder to check if your router’s LED lights are blinking as they should.

This time, when the game reboots and you log back in, you’re greeted by the purple-haired man who somehow manages to climb his way onto the first place among your lead choices even after new releases. You are one of those players who had been in the fandom just some time after the game released officially and Rafayel has been your choice of ML ever since, though you do get bias-wrecked by Sylus every so often. You smile, not at all bothered by the shift in characters, and admire his ‘asymmetrical romance’ outfit, paired with a big, vibrant red bow. Rafayel suddenly closes the distance between you and the screen, leaning down so that his eyes meet yours although it feels far from mere programming.

His mystical eyes are wide, holding a strange clarity, as though he’s uncovered something. His soft features are lit up with eyebrows arched and full lips drawn in a small part. He tilts his head, seeming momentarily stunned. You wait patiently, suspecting the devs may have added a new update for how characters interact with you. You would have missed it had you not been paying close attention, but you distinctly hear him whisper "beautiful," clear as day.

A soft pink blooms on your cheeks, and you flinch slightly, caught off guard by the timbre of his voice and the unexpected compliment. You wonder why the word didn’t appear in the captions but brush it off as a possible glitch. Unable to resist, you flick some stray hair away from your face and respond cheekily, “I know, right?”

You could have sworn you saw the faintest quirk of his lips as he stepped back, but then again, your brain is frazzled from overwork, and you wouldn’t trust it for opinions at this moment. You still have a daily task remaining, so you select "Quality Time" and set the timer for 30 minutes to work with him. You position your phone upright, supported by a cushion, and gather the utensils to take them to the dishwasher.

After putting your overcoat, bag, and other items in their proper places, you shake your shirt off your shoulders, deciding to freshen up for the evening. Had you been more observant, you might have noticed an unusually flustered Rafayel, his eyes fixed on you as you walked past the living room and toward your bedroom in just your bralette and pencil skirt.

When you slip out of his sight, he sets down his fountain pen and leans toward the screen once more. His iridescent irises, the color of dusk, shift around your living room, watching with a kind of unrestrained curiosity. They take in the unfamiliar world with the weight of a thousand unspoken questions, their intensity hidden behind lips that are pressed in quiet contemplation. Long, pale fingers, hesitant yet deliberate, tap softly against the unyielding glass that separates him from whatever lies beyond it.

He listens, the faint sound of your footsteps growing nearer, and in an instant, he straightens up. With a swift motion, he grabs his pen, resuming his drawing as though he had never strayed from his post. Later, he tells himself. Later, when you aren’t around, he will unravel the mystery of what this all means.

You emerge from the bathroom, hair damp from your shower, and sink into the sofa, still wearing your pajamas, a packet of chips resting on the table in front of you. His gaze drifts to you every now and then, some sort of fascination blooming in the quiet chambers of his heart for how your existence goes against everything he knows. You sometimes catch his gaze and before you start to ponder about it, he unwillingly utters words that feel like metal on his tongue — words that you’d consider entirely normal — words that would show in the captions. He clicks his tongue in distaste, not liking being pressed into speaking phrases that don’t truly belong to him — just empty lines, part of some programmed response. Yet, despite this reluctance, it doesn't stop him from continuing to steal glances at you, as if something distinct about you holds his attention despite himself.

And for the first time in months, he lets his phone beside him ring, despite the familiar caller ID—his miss bodyguard’s. The world around him — around you — seems to fade into the background, and for a fleeting moment, he is wholly, silently present in this strange, ordinary space that feels anything but ordinary.

Check out my other works if you liked this ♥

[multi-fandom-imagine]

𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚂𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚙𝚜 𝙲𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛 || 𝚂𝚝𝚎𝚟𝚎 𝙷𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚝𝚘𝚗 ||

A/n: Obsessed with Stranger Things atm

Warnings: pussy eating ( female receiving )

The mall was finally quiet, the fluorescent lights above dimmed to their sleepy hum. Most of the shops had already locked up, the buzz of summer shoppers gone. The scent of waffle cones and strawberry syrup lingered in the air as you wiped down the counter, casting a glance toward Steve, who was mopping like it was the most exhausting thing in the world.

“You missed a spot,” you teased, pointing toward a sticky patch near the register.

Steve narrowed his eyes, his hair already falling a little out of place from the heat. “Oh yeah? Maybe you should be the one pushing the mop, sweetheart.”

“I’m too cute for manual labor.” You grinned followed by poking your tongue at him as you twirled the cleaning rag in your hand. “Isn’t that why you’re here?” You hummed with a tilt of your head.

He set the mop against the wall and leaned over the counter, brown eyes twinkling as he met your gaze. “I thought I was here for the free ice cream and the stunning company.”

You raised a brow, cocking your hip against the freezer door. “You calling Robin stunning or me?”

He smirked, slow and lazy as he stepped around the corner. “You, obviously. Though she does have great bone structure.”

You opened your mouth to retort, but his hands were already on your hips, guiding you backward until you hit the counter. The cool surface sent a chill up your spine, especially when he picked you up effortlessly and set you on top of it.

“Steve—”

“Shh,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss just beneath your jaw. “Robin’s gone. The mall’s empty. Just you and me.”

Your legs parted instinctively, and he stepped between them, kissing you deeper this time—messy, hungry, a little sugar-sweet from the vanilla milkshake he’d snuck earlier. His hands slid up your thighs, fingers brushing under the hem of your uniform skirt. "God you somehow make these ugly uniform look good."

“Steve—this is really not sanitary,” you whispered breathlessly, though your hands were already tugging at his collar, dragging him closer.

“We’ve literally seen interdimensional monsters and almost died in a Russian elevator,” he murmured, lips tracing your neck, “I think we’ll survive the health code violation.”

You gasped as he sank to his knees, hands gently urging your thighs open. He hooked a finger into the edge of your panties and tugged, dragging them down slowly.

“Steve—” you started, heartbeat pounding in your ears.

He looked up at you with that devastating grin. “Be quiet for me, baby,” he said, voice low and teasing. “Unless you want Robin to hear how good I’m making you feel.”

Your breath caught as his mouth met your pussy—slow licks at first, like he was savoring you, teasing you, tasting you like his favorite sundae. He groaned softly against your skin, fingers gripping your thighs to keep you still as your hips bucked. The cold of the counter, the warmth of his mouth—it was enough to make your toes curl.

You bit your lip hard, a whimper escaping anyway. Steve flicked his tongue just right and you almost sobbed.

“Oh my god, Steve—”

“Shhh,” he whispered against you, sending vibrations up your spine. “Don’t wanna get caught, do we?”

Of course that’s exactly when the back door creaked open.

“Jesus Christ—” Robin’s voice rang out, followed by a dramatic pause. “Are you fucking serious?”

Steve froze mid-lick, his eyes wide as he slowly looked up at you… and then at Robin, still kneeling between your legs.

“Robin!” he croaked, voice cracking as he scrambled up, practically knocking over a cup of sprinkles in his panic.

You clamped your legs shut and ducked your head, cheeks burning. Robin just stood there, utterly unimpressed, arms crossed and eyebrows high.

“Well, I was coming back to grab my Walkman, but please, by all means, continue your after-hours buffet, Harrington.”

Steve let out a low groan, dragging a hand down his bright red face. “Please kill me. Right now.”

Robin smirked. “Nah. I think I��ll let you suffer. But hey, at least now I know why you’re so eager to mop.”

You giggled behind your hand as Steve shot you a half-hearted glare. Robin just shook her head and strolled out, calling behind her—

“Try not to get cum in the cookie dough, Romeo.”

Steve groaned again, resting his forehead on your thigh. “I’m never gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

You tangled your fingers in his hair and smiled. “Not a chance.”

[deikshen]

Shen Yuan who collects a harem a lot of Luo Binghes-

It's not intentional!! He, well, he's actually happy with his boyfriend. Twenty-something Shen Yuan had a hard time coming out and all, but, hey, Luo Binghe is a wonderful guy. And he loves him. He is his best friend, his favorite person, his most precious, his boyfriend and (he thinks) his future husband.

Then one day a xianxia version of his boyfriend appears at his door? Who calls him Shizun and demands retribution for being mistreated by him in the past? What the hell?

Okay, the resemblance is undeniable. Admittedly, he can only be an out-of-universe version of his boyfriend. With very long hair and xianxia drama robes. And a sword that gives off a lot of bad vibes.

And the Luo Binghe xianxia is here to stay.

This xianxia Binghe and his boyfriend Binghe's relationship is tense. Shen Yuan had to put in a couple of threats here and there to keep them from hitting each other (one is clearly non-human, one is completely human. That alone can lead to ICU visits!!!), and after a few weeks, the dynamic... holds. Hardly.

Xianxia Binghe demands to take Shen Yuan as his wife and empress, and his boyfriend-Binghe cries a little thinking that an orphan like him doesn't have much to offer Shen Yuan, and that he should just accept him. Shen Yuan gets angry with both of them. He's not going to marry any emperor or take control of any kingdom. No thanks! He doesn't even want control of his parents' company shares!

The tension continues, fights, arguments - which literally end one day when, through God knows how, another Luo Binghe appears. But he's adorable! A sweet little fourteen-year-old Xianxia Bunhe full of trauma!

And now, Boyfriend-Binghe and Xianxia-Binghe have a common enemy: Xianxia-Bunhe who clings to Shen Yuan with teary eyes and looks at them maliciously and superiority when Shen Yuan is not in the room. That damn shameless guy!!

Well, at least Shen Yuan is pleased that these two seem to be getting along better now. No matter what the circumstances are.

Other Binghes begin to appear: a Binghe disciple of Bai Zhan without so much trauma but terrible communication problems, a crown prince Binghe spoiled by his father Tianlang-jun (who is easily reduced in a fight against Xianxia-Binghe and Bai-Zhan-Binghe for treating Shen Yuan disrespectfully), a completely Demonic-Binghe, a very Old-Binghe, gray-haired and tired, even a Raised-In-Brothel-Binghe who looks uncomfortable wearing anything but sheer clothing!! Many Binghes, all with their emotional baggage and traumas, giving in to him like little lambs in need of love!!

Shen Yuan doesn't understand anything. He just... Look, he's living with his boyfriend, the original Luo Binghe for him, he WANTS privacy, not to have so many alternate versions of him in his house!! Even if they are adorable, or arrogant, or irritating!! Shen Yuan wants his life back. With his boyfriend!! To do boyfriend things and... That's it!! Is that so hard to understand!?

Then, fuck it. If there are SO MANY Binghes from so many universes... There must be more of himself in their own universes!! Just... They need to take a look!!! Open their eyes! The sword of Xianxia-Binghe can clearly traverse universes, they can search for their own Shen Yuan!!

... But they all confirm that they have not been able to find someone like him in their respective universes. Shen Yuan takes a breath, has a chat with his boyfriend about interdimensional vacations, and says, fuck it. We're going to go to all your universes and find your own other me.

Even if it means going through universes and confronting all their dramatic plots! Shen Yuan will recover his chill life with his boyfriend or perish in the attempt!!

[demonic0angel]

Young Justice hanging out at Fenton Works, and meeting the Fenton Family. For whatever reason you choose.

Wonder Girl coughed lightly. “Uhm. It’s okay if we hide in here, right?”

Spirit nodded, as she guided her friends to her parents’ house. “Yeah, it’ll be okay. My parents should be home, but it’s alright, they’ll help us.” Without hesitation, she threw the doors open and called it, “Mom! Dad! I’m home!”

Two people popped their heads out of the kitchen window and beamed. “Dani!” A woman cooed. She was wearing a turquoise hazmat suit and cheerfully holding a turkey. “I didn’t know you were going to visit home!”

The man next to her, who was wearing an orange hazmat suit, grinned at them and then quickly ran off, calling, “We didn’t get enough food! Wait here! I’ll get another turkey!”

“Get three!” Dani’s mom called before she ushered everyone in. Impulse had already rushed inside and was inspecting everything enthusiastically, but she didn’t even seem to care. “Aww, are these your friends, Dani? They look a little bloody— is that normal?”

It was Superboy who answered respectfully, “We’re sorry for intruding, ma’am. Uh, we were nearby due to an interdimensional demon and we needed a place to lay low for a while and recover. If that’s okay, ma’am.”

Dani’s mom beamed. “Oh, that’s perfectly fine! I’m so glad my baby girl has friends! Jazz and Danny never bring their friends around anymore. They’ve all moved out, you see, so we’ve been feeling a bit of empty nest syndrome. Come in, we’ll feed you and you can all rest!”

Everyone gave each other relieved looks and then thanked Dani’s mom who waved it off, pushing them into the bathroom to wash their hands and the blood off. Dani immediately set out to patch everyone up, grinning all the while as they were all squished into the tiny bathroom.

“Your mom seems nice,” Anita said. She looked vaguely shocked by everything.

“Yeah, she and Dad adopted me and Dan even when they didn’t need to,” Dani said. She quickly slapped a bandaid onto Slobo’s arm, who was already healed from his regeneration abilities, before she moved onto Red Robin, who was quiet and still masked.

Cassie asked, “Would we be a bother? I know my mom would be furious if we ever came to her like this.”

“Nah. They’re ghost hunters and Danny is a hero too, remember? They know what it’s like to raise heroes, so it’s fine.”

Dani cheerfully patched them all up and then they were quickly seated at the dinner table, where Dani’s dad had already came back with three more turkeys and a whole bunch of other groceries, quickly whipping up a feast for their impromptu guests.

“We should visit more often if we get to eat all of this every time,” Slobo said with a grin.

“You really don’t need to do this,” Cassie said, looking guilty. “It’s enough to just let us rest. We can’t finish all of this food!”

“I can!” All of the boys chorused and received the nastiest glare from their leader for their exclamation. They all smiled at her in varying levels of sheepishness.

Dani’s mom beamed. “It’s no trouble at all! You kiddos can eat, we’ll take care of the demons for you! Oh, and you, ghost-girl-that’s-not-my-daughter! We have food for you too!”

Suzie’s eyes widened. “You do?”

Dani smiled brightly. “Told you they’re the best! C’mon! Let’s eat!”

As they ate, Dani’s parents geared up in more guns and weapons before marching out the door.

“Remember to wash the dishes!” Dani’s dad said. “There’s brownies and ice cream in the fridge! Heat up the brownies slowly in the toaster oven! The microwave is contaminated again, so don’t use it until we disinfect it.”

“Okay! Got it, dad. Thanks again! Good luck!”

Red Robin leaned in close to Bart, who was chowing down noisily. “Is this what having attentive, present, and supportive parents feels like?”

[long-live-astronerd-ghost-king]

DPXDC prompt: Dead on main. No trick only treat.

~~Сhildhood friends and deals~~

The Justice League has to summon a ghost from another dimension to address the threat. They don’t know what price the Ghost King will take but there’s little time to bargain. Another spirit threatening them has already seized all the computers on their base. John doesn’t know what else to offer. A summoned ghost starts to look bored. Gold, jewelry? A favor from a member of the League? Like the Ruler of All Dead needs it. No one dares to make another offer, and the King is in no hurry to set out his demands. Maybe try to pull off a soul sale scam?

Suddenly, Red Hood breaks into the hall, walks up to Phantom and shakes his shoulder vigorously. Red Hood: You, get Technus out of here right now. I need access to the files and fast. Phantom: That’s rude, dude. Where did you grow up? in the cave? No "hello, no how are you, Danny", really? Red Hood: I’ll pay the usual price. Phantom: Deal.

What is the price? John sees Batman and gets in his way. The usual price, his guy said. Means Jay was already out of the deal alive and well. This hyperprotective bat would only piss off the ruler if he interfered.

The King quickly deals with his subordinate using a thermos and remains to watch working Hood. Red Hood: What do you want? I’m busy. Danny: You and I have a contract~ Red Hood: All right, all right. Jay throws M&Ms right in the face of the ghost. But king doesn’t look angry. He opens the package and starts sorting the candies by color. Phantom quickly eats up all the green ones and passes the red ones to Hood. Jason takes them without any questions.

Strange. John has never seen a summoned creature share its reward with a human. And the son of a bat looks too comfortable with it. Wait, since when do super-powered beings think that candy is a decent wage?John makes one of the most likely deductions using his experience. Constantine: Batsy, how long has your son been sleeping with the King of Ghosts? Batman: He…what?!

~~~~~~~

Dick *knocking at the door*: Little Wing, you hate ectoplasm and everything what is neon green, so why? He’s dangerous! Jason who turned on the music to not listen to his crazy family: ~He’s poison but tasty~

Dick: NoOOoo

~~~~~~

Jason: And now everyone thinks that I sold my virginity to you for a bargain or something, because interdimensional creatures like you aren’t supposed to help for nothing. Like you’re playing favorites. I’m gonna fucking kill John. Danny: Well, I wouldn’t say no to that. Jason: What? Danny: I mean, to k-kill John, yeah. How dare he.. Jason: Omg, you’re still so terrible liar, Fenton.

Danny: Sorry :(

Jason: No. Say it again.

~~~~Twelve years ago~~~~ Maddie wasn’t thrilled to learn that Danny was trying to make friends with Todd’s son. Their neighbor was terrible. And his son was definitely a street rat and probably a juvenile delinquent. Maddie: Danny, honey, there’s got to be a reason this boy is talking to you. Even kids from the crime alley are always looking for a bargain they can make or a fool they can fool. Danny: But Jason is so cool! He knows so much about books and alleys and.. Maddie: But you don’t want to be a fool, do you? Danny: Okay, Mom, I get it.

So, if Danny wants a cool friend, he’s got to offer a bargain.

He didn’t have a lot of pocket money for every month but Jason needed it more anyway. And his lunch that Jack was picking for him was big enough for two and only bitten on Tuesdays. Nice. Jason: Do I understand correctly? You will pay me and give me food, and I, what? Protect you from bullies? Danny: No! I’m not weak, I don’t need to be protected. Just..maybe we could sit together at lunch and walk each other home sometimes? Jason: Nay Danny: But why? You want something else? Jason: Money’s fine but your homemade food is…strange. Danny: I can bring sweets if you want. Jason: Deal. 3 pop tarts for a joint lunch, a party size bag of M&Ms if you waste my time out of school.

~~~~

Sometimes they share sweets when they hang out but more often Jayson takes them home to save in case his parents have money problems. Sweets have a long shelf life stored and he may not be afraid to poison himself. Over time, candy becomes their currency and a secret language for all occasions. Need help without unnecessary questions? M&Ms. Problems with learning? Skittles. The question is about family? Snickers. There will be a serious conversation? Pop Tarts.

Jason: One snickers and a pack of gum. Danny: Yeah, Jason? What do you want? Jason: My mom wants to meet my friend. Come to lunch on Sunday. Danny: Okay, you managed to pay for my expensive services. Jason:…and you just lost the gum from the deal.

~~~~~~

Jason threw a package at Danny: Three pop tarts. We need to talk. Danny: All right? Jason: Why are you avoiding me all week?! Danny: Well, it’s just..you’re Wayne now. Jason. Still Todd. And what about that? Danny: You can hang out with the cooler guys now, I didn’t want to embarrass you. Jason: Bullshit! I’m still the street rat, and you’re trying to avoid our contract. me. And I don’t even need money from you anymore. What the hell? I thought you are my friend. Danny: And I am!

~~~~~~

Robin: What’s a schoolboy doing in an alley at night? Danny: Um, I…nothing? Don’t tell my parents, Mr. Robin sir. Robin: It will cost you so many Chunky Bars, you have no idea. Danny:...Jason? Jason: N-no. Danny: Damn yes. What are you doing in green shorts on the street at night?! Jason: Cosplay. Danny: Oh yeah? Then I’m just your hallucination. Don’t hesitate to ghost me. I’m going home, Disgrace In Pixie Boots, bye. Jason: fu%&c$#u

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Multiverse Police (pt. 2)

"You said you're going to ask questions, then can we ask questions?" Superman really tries to be polite here because, first, he was raised by Kents and, second, Jazz and the whole interdimensional police thing looks non-hostile. At least now.

The redhead nods, "Sure, ask away, I'll answer everything I can." Then, she notices Batman reaching to touch the green shield and makes a soft, warning noise, "Ah, sorry, please don't touch it. I can show how it works later, but it's not meant to keep you out. It's to keep everything else in."

Batman reluctantly puts his head down and turns to her.

"Elaborate."

The sci-fi ship in the air makes a loud hissing sound, like compressed air being released, and the bottom part of it slides open. Jazz nods in the direction of the now open ship.

"You know what they say, it's better to see it once than to hear it ten times."

There are three humanoid figures standing in there. All of them are mostly monochrome, black and white clothes, starkling white hair. They look like one adult and two children, but it's one of the kids who raises his hands to his mouth and yells so loud everyone in three miles radius is able to hear him:

"Step away from the shield, please, shit's about to get real!"

None of the heroes move, but Jazz does take a few steps away. Wonder Woman, after a moment of hesitation, follows her example.

A mechanical voice comes from the ship itself, "Countdown to the breach. Five... Four..."

On 'three,' all three of the monochrome figures step out from the ship. But, before any of the heroes have time to worry, they all float in the air, undeterred by gravity, and the ship door closes behind them.

The countdown reaches 'one'. And in the next moment, it looks like the hell breaks loose.

Countless giant vines shoot out from the portal up, reaching for the ship. True to what the red hoverboarder said, they are very much toothy, every vine splitting in two and attempting to bite the ship like some twisted idea of scissors.

None of them reach it.

The oldest of three kids claps his hands, and a wall of raging fire descends on the vines, throwing them off. In the next moment, the trio falls apart, flying through the lovecraftian mess of carnivorous plants with practiced ease, the younger ones using what looks like icicles and little storms.

"Who are they?" Batman asks Jazz, following the youngest one's - the only girl among the three - movements as she creates a strong gust of wind with a wave of her hand. None of the vines or attacks get past the shield, though.

"My siblings," the girl answers, pointing her hand at the oldest one, "That's Dan. He's the most violent. One time, he destroyed our original world, but that timeline doesn't exist anymore." She then points to the girl, "That's Dani, the youngest. She rarely joins the crew lately. And she is actually a clone, but at this point, most of us have been cloned once or twice, so it's not a big deal anymore." She then points her finger to the last one, a boy that flies past them quicker than a lightning, freezing everything he touches, "And this is Danny. He is the most powerful one. Technically, he could have just ended the fight with one Wail, but kids like to have fun. Also, they don't get to show off their elemental powers a lot, so they are mostly being dramatic for you."

She says all this so easily, just like a matter of fact, and it is at this moment that the members of JL realize the sheer power of whoever these people are. When she casually told them she bested Superman, it could have been written as a coincidence, a joke. But this?

Dan growls as one of the vines scratches his shoulder. He bleeds green, but it's only for a second before both the wound and the suit knit themselves back together. This is not just a simple accelerated healing, it almost looks like a miracle.

"Oi, brats, I'm done with show off, get out of the way!" He yells at the other two, and Danny and Dani quickly follow the order, flying closer to him and behind his back.

"Cover your ears," Jazz tells the heroes around her, and puts her helmet back on, as Dan takes a deep breath and screams.

It hurts even those who follow Jazz's advice. Batman feels like his eardrums are about to be shattered for the lack of better word. But the vines like the sonic attack even less - most of them subdue and pull back inside the portal, and the rest is dissipating like they are being burned from the inside out.

And then, just like it began, the scream - the wail - stops. The silence feels deafening after the end of it, but slowly, the sounds return, and the JL watches Danny flying down to the center of the portal. He puts his hands on the surface of it, and for a long moment, nothing happens.

And then the Pit starts closing up.

Or, no, it is Danny who absorbs it, the green flowing up through his hands, his veins that start glowing the same green. His eyes become the same toxic color, with no whites and no irises, just glowing green all over, and his hair shimmers like stars.

A few minutes later, the portal is gone, like it never even existed, and Danny plants his feet on the ground and stretches, like one would do after a good rest.

"Oof, that was nice!" He turns to the other two, who are still up in the air, "Do you want some?"

Dan flips him off before going back to the ship, but Dani floats down to him and extends her hands out.

"Sure. I like getting it from you better than from the portal itself anyway. Gives it a sparkling taste, like Sprite," she chuckles. Danny takes her hands in his, and the green glow slowly makes its way through their joined palms, now flowing through the girl’s body.

"What are they?" Flash whispers, horrified, but Jazz hears it nonetheless and turns her head to him, taking her helmet off once again.

"That is not a very appropriate question," she chastises and smiles at their faces, "But it's okay, I get it. They are ghosts. Or ectoplasmic entities, or halfas, or highly liminal beings. Or, if you want a very simplified version, they are dead kids who are enjoying their afterlife a little too much."

"Dead?" Batman zeros on the word, snapping his eyes at the girl. She smiles, and for the first time, it doesn't look human. Her teeth are too sharp, her grin too wide, and her eyes are suddenly not just teal, but neon bright and glowing, with vertical irises.

"Most of us are dead in one way or another. And I do not mean it in a metaphorical sense."

-------------------

What I'm thinking is they have a whole system going on. Amity Park generally resides in the Realms, but from time to time, they decide they want to go on a vacation, as a whole town, and they pop into existence on one of the Earths. They don't really care for the universe or dimension they end up in, as long as it is more or less peaceful (as in, no active wars going on right where they pop up), has sunlight and nice weather.

The GIW is taking care of legal things - imagine US government reaction when a whole ass town just boom, starts existing in a place where nothing existed before? So GIW does all the paperwork and discussions. Also, they are doing their basic research on the dimension they end up in, for science purposes.

I'm thinking Vlad is still a mayor of Amity. And sometimes, when a particular dimension is rather annoying, he straight up possesses the authorities because he hates official talks and couldn't care less for morals if he tried for a week. The GIW scolds him, but don't really say no. It's not a good solution to the problem, but hey, it works.

Meanwhile, Fentons are doing ectoplasmic research. They scan the dimension for troubles, basically, looking for natural portals and ghosts causing ruckus. Jazz is almost always the one who does the talking to the heroes native to the dimension - she is the one who has the most patience and social skills. Jack is in charge of transportation and Maddie is the head of biological, ecto-biological and other species research. Tucker is the tech specialist, of course - he is the sole reason why Amity has wi-fi wherever they go. Val and her father are, kind of, protectors? Security? But for the whole town, yeah. They do have GIW agents as subordinates.

Dani is not always living in Amity, she travels the Realms most of the time, but she joins when something interesting happens. Dan is, like, on an eternal probation period, GIW and Fentons keep an eye on him, but he is one of the heavy hitters for when shit goes down.

Danny is living his best life, he is mainly the protector spirit of Amity, but he also gets to protect all the dimensions from ghosts! He helps anyone and everyone - one day he is working with Val on defenses for their main ship they use to travel inside dimensions, and the next day he is joining Maddie in her studies of new species found.

Oh, I forgot Sam. She is probably the one responsible for the magic stuff - mostly everyone else focuses on scientific aspects, but she is the one to research on occult things.

| <- prev | next -> |

[darlingdaisyfarm]

♡.ᐟ his hands know you better than you do ˚⋆

a/n: sorry if this is self-indulgent but i just needed to write something where Ford fucks the stress and depression out of me. honestly, wouldn’t mind if Stan did too. this started as princess treatment but derailed into filth, but whatever

tags: Ford x reader, princess treatment, mostly nsfw, soft Ford, praise kink, worshipping, vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingerfucking actually lots of fingerfucking because Fords fingers deserve their own category, petnames, dumbification

there’s something tragic about the way you struggle with the clasp of your necklace, standing in front of the mirror with your fingers fumbling at the tiny silver hook. it's such a small thing, but frustration gnaws at you nonetheless. and Ford is always here to wash that feeling away. you feel his warm hands, six fingers sweeping your own aside, “allow me, please.”

he stands behind you as he secures the chain at your nape, admiring his sweetheart in the mirror. his fingers linger, pressing lightly against the fragile dip where your spine begins.

“there. perfect.”

Ford is always fixing things. adjusting the strap of your dress, tugging your coat tighter around your shoulders when the wind picks up, brushing stray lashes from your cheek with the soft drag of his thumb. he notices. he always notices.

there is a gravity to the way Ford Pines touches you, like the sea is pulled to the moon. six fingers softly grazing over your cheek as if you are precious, at if you're some rare, undocumented star he has been searching for his entire life. nothing has ever captivated him like you.

it's the little details that ruin you. when he pulls your gloves off finger by finger in the winter. when he cups your jaw in the middle of a conversation, just to tip your chin up and look at his sweetheart properly, murmuring about how your eyes catch the light just so.

when he says “there you go, sweetheart” whenever he helps you into a coat, a car, a chair. and you bite your lip when you catch the envious glances of other girls.

his hands, oh, his hands. meant for research, for careful sketches of interdimensional maps, for scrawled notes in the margins of mysteries unsolved and yet, they belong to you now.

Ford always pulls you closer in crowds, putting his firm hand at the small of your back because he needs to make sure his sweetheart is safe and near

if your feet ache, if your delicate ankles are too sore from those pretty little shoes, he’ll sweep you into his arms without a second thought. he grumbles though, muttering something about you being reckless for wearing those ridiculous shoes, but you know it's just because he cares.

you poor, delicate thing. you look so lovely when you’re tired like this, slumped on the edge of the bed with your heels kicked off haphazardly, body aching from a long day. too much effort, too much weight carried on your dainty little shoulders. but don’t worry, Ford will take care of you.

he kneels before you, a man who has spent decades chasing the unknown, kneeling at your feet like a man finally bowing before the only mystery he never wants to solve. calloused hands reach for your ankle, undoing the delicate strap of your shoe, fingers tracing the curve of your instep. and you sigh when you feel his warm lips pressing against the skin just above your ankle.

“you look so tired, my dear, please let me take care of you.”

his hands travel higher, peeling off the layers of the day, undressing you carefully and that feels almost ceremonial. fingers working at the zipper of your dress, pushing it from your shoulders, watching as the fabric pools around you. his breath is warm when he leans in against the curve of your thigh, kissing, kissing, kissing, an exploration, a devotion.

your hands never open doors, never carry bags heavier than a dainty purse. Ford notices everything. if your lipstick smudges after a kiss, he’s already smoothing his thumb over your lower lip. if your hands are cold, his are already cupping them, rubbing warmth into your skin, bringing your fingers to his mouth to breathe warm air over them.

in a moment of hesitation you'll always hear “don’t trouble yourself with that, love. let me handle it.”

you struggle with your hair and Ford is already reaching for the brush, pulling you between his knees as he gently, meticulously combs through the strands, what makes shivers bloom down your spine.

because Ford's sweetheart should never struggle, not when he can do something about it.

but that treatment does not stop at the threshold of the bedroom.

always kissing your wrist like a proper gentleman before pinning them down and making you sob.

when you straddle Ford's lap, rocking against him with slow, teasing rolls of your hips, he doesn’t stop you, only leans back, watching you.

“mmh, you’re making quite the mess of me, sweetheart.”

you know his hands have built machine leading to other worlds and dimensions, but now, they exist for you.

and in bed they are worshipful. you dont have to work for pleasure, you receive it. his pleasure is your pleasure.

you melt when his big hands hold you steady, guiding you against the hard press of his cock, letting you take what you want. if you decide to ride him, he always settles his hands on your hips, just because he wants to be close to you.

but oh, he likes to give, too.

you are his subject, his obsession, the one thing in all the dimensions that he has deemed worthy of true complete devotion.

you cum first, always, that's his rule. even while he’s making love to you, even when he’s right there on the edge. you'll always hear him groaning “cum for me, love,” and he means now.

fingers, fingers, fingers, obsessed with them, using them on you, making you cum on them.

because damn, he needs to make sure you’re ruined and twitching before he fucks his own release into you.

“look at you. dripping all over my hand. such a pretty little thing”

and thats a fact. his fingers always come first. they have to. he’d never think of fucking you without it, not when your little pussy flutters just from the slow push of his long digits inside. two first, then three, stretching, pressing, working until you’re soaking and weak.

Ford fingers you so often and naturally, that you start to think it’s just second nature to him. you’re sitting on his lap, buried in one of his oversized sweaters and his hand is already under it, teasing at the waistband of your panties, rubbing soft circles over your sensitive clit. or you’re in bed, drowsy and half-asleep and Ford is already between your thighs, lazily sliding two fingers inside you, curling them deep as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear.

“just relax, sweetheart, let me take care of you.”

Ford never rushes. six fingers, six places to hold, touch and tease. one teasing your nipple, rolling the sensitive bud between his fingers. another smoothing over your hip, keeping you still. but the two buried inside you work you open, coaxing wet little sounds from your lips, stroking that soft, aching spot deep inside.

his voice is always deep and soothing, even when his cock is aching, even when he’s watching your slick drip down his wrist. Ford is patient. determined. he won’t fuck you until you’re trembling, begging, nearly crying for it.

“that’s it, love. such a sensitive little thing.”

your nipples, he just adores them, rolling them between his fingers, sucking them slow, teasing, making your back arch so pretty, your fingers digging into his hair as he kisses, licks, bites, its never enough.

“so soft. you’re beautiful like this. love you so much.”

yeah, Ford knows you love his fingers because you always run your mouth about them, without even realising. you’ll watch him turn a page in his journal and murmur “ohh your hands are so strong, Ford.” or when you trace your fingertip along the veins of his knuckles and hum, “beautiful, so big.” you say it without a thought, praising him for nothing, really

and Ford never comments, never says a damn thing, but he burns with the knowledge that you have no idea what you do to him

so later, when his thick cock stuffing you up, filling every little space, fucking you open, that’s when he gets his little revenge.

“Ford, w-wait—“ you gasp when he pulls out suddenly, leaving you aching and empty when you were so damn close, in response you feel Ford rubbing his broad palm down your belly, down between your thighs. “shh, just for a second, just let me. here we go,” its two first, then three, pressing inside, stroking that spot that makes your body jolt.

Ford kisses your neck. “this little pussy loves my fingers more than anything, doesn't she?” fuck, you do, you can’t help it. you whimper, nodding so fast it makes him grin. “so go on, starlight. cum for them.”

there's nothing he loves more than making you cum around his fingers.

Ford, although quite awkward, insists you sit on his face and you know his mouth was made for worship when you perched prettily on him. greedy hands gripping your thighs, trying to keep you there forever. six fingers press into your flesh, keeping you open and spread, keeping you exactly where he wants you with your thighs trembling around his head.

his tongue moves with purpose, slowly lapping at your pussy like he has all the time in the world. you tilt your head back when he sucks your little clit into his warm mouth, moans against you like he's the one getting fucked, groans deep and filthy when you grab his hair.

“you taste divine, darling.”

Ford loves to press his forehead to yours when he bottoms out deep, stretching you good enough that you whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck. he kisses your lips, your jaw, the corner of your mouth, memorising every inch of you, letting you feel every inch of him, holding himself still so you can adjust.

and Ford hates making you cry, he swears he does. but god, if he doesn’t love the way your little tears stain his lips when he devours your mouth with kisses.

“i know, darling, i know,” as his thumb catches the first tear that spills, swipes it up, brings it to his lips like he’s starving for it. “look at my pretty girl, getting all teary for me.”

he can’t help it. his hands tighten as he ruts faster into you.

It's his guilty pleasure but damn, Ford adores it when you get dumb for him, too far gone to even think as he fucks into you so deep, the bed creaking. your knees trembling where they hook over his hips.

“sweetheart, still with me?” he’s got your wrists pinned, forehead to forehead, mouth brushing yours as he drinks up every little sound.

“fuh—Ford, too much—c-can’t—“

he’s not even touching you anymore, just watching how your lashes flutter and your mouth stays open, how your chest rises and falls in rapid helpless gasps. you can’t think straight. he’s hitting too deep, ruining you too slow and that feels too good.

“you can take it. just let me make you feel good.” he cups your face, wipes the mess off your cheek.

but Ford loves it when you use him too, when you ride him, rolling your hips in teasing circles, grinding down just to hear him groan. Ford always lets you take what you need.

and when you collapse against his chest, tired, trembling, whining softly into his neck about how good he feels, he fucks up into you, slow and sweet, holding you close, cradling you.

“i’ve got you, baby, i’ve got you. let me love you.”

ever the gentleman, Ford always asks you where you want his cum.

“tell me, princess. where do you want it? inside? on your pretty stomach? your soft thighs? tell me, sweetheart. let me give it to you. im so close.“

it. . . doesn't really matter that he wants it inside you, that he needs to fill you up, keep you full and watch it drip from your spent little cunt. no. the most important thing is what his beloved wants.

even afterwards, Ford doesn’t roll away, but stays pressed against you, holds you through it all. whispers soft things against your temple, kisses your fingertips, your shoulders, your belly as he thanks you for letting him ruin you.

because princess treatment doesn’t end when the sex does. Ford cleans you up gently, tugs you against his scarred chest, runs his six fingers through your hair until you fall asleep, safe in his arms.

“there, there, sweetheart. took me so well. so proud of you. just rest. i’ve got you.” and here you are, worshipped, fucked, adored

[randomshyperson]

hiii😸

i wanna request wanda with hugs no. 31😻 ur fluff is so good i want to bash my head into the wall

/pos

hope u get free from ur writer's block!!😻

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

prompt: hugging while straddling the partner | words: 2066k | warnings: (+18), dark(ish)!wanda, smut, bottom!reader, dom!wanda mainly, implied variant death sorry, but happy ending for the main.

a/n-> this is the last one actually, i got my drafts confused if you saw more in the masterlist you didn't. i won't be posting anything for a while now just to write new series but I won't be gone for long I hope.

challenge masterlist | general masterlist

-&-

Considering all the things that had happened until she reached this moment, Wanda expected there to be more noise.

Fighting. Or even pain.

Two years and six hundred and eighty-four universes and she had finally found you.

Not a fallen hero version, not an evil clone, not a dead wife.

Just you, available, alive and asleep.

The room was dimly lit by the rays of sunlight that passed through the half-open curtain. Her variant must have gotten up early to prepare breakfast, and Wanda took complete control before she could even open the door. She took in little of the room, mostly focused on your sleeping figure in the bed in the corner, peaceful and vulnerable.

Five universes ago a variant of you had tried to arrest her for crimes against the multiverse, so this calmness was quite the bonus.

She quickly inspected the most recent memories before the deepest ones. This Wanda didn't know she loved you like that, not yet. Young and naive, this variant was rewarded with an entire childhood and adolescence by your side. Friends since kindergarten, the deep intimacy between you was beautiful to watch. Easy to envy.

It was a sadistic joke that in all the universes, she was the only one having a miserable life.

Controlling her own irritation, Wanda pushed those memories away and sighed deeply. You moved, searching for her warmth in the mattress and she wondered if your variant was already sure of what she knew many universes ago. You were made for each other.

She watched you with some curiosity. She still wasn't sure how she would do it. She hardly had a clear plan. She took very deliberate actions now, which was probably why she always ended up with some wizard on the way, close to some interdimensional prison.

But as you woke up, Wanda felt around that reality. There was magic like most, but it wasn't as strong even in the body she occupied now. This Wanda was a beginner witch, with simple levitation or tarot tricks that she could use to make you laugh in admiration.

Your sleepy figure finally opened its eyes, felt the bed, turned your face, and faced her standing in the middle of the room. Wanda felt so small, not at all like the great Scarlet Witch. She was almost like a child, eager to please. To be liked. When you frowned at her, she wondered if you were already able to tell she was a fraud, an impostor.

But your expression softened, and you chucked hoarsely.

 "Were you watching me sleep? Creep."

Oh, you had no idea.

Wanda swallowed, forcing a chuckle. "I wasn't." She lies quickly, pushing away emotional nausea as your tousled-haired, sleepy-eyed figure brings back similar memories of a life she doesn't know how to get back. She clears her throat and looks away so you don't see the tears welling up in her eyes. "I was just going to get breakfast. Do you want anything?"

"Yeah." You chuckle relaxedly, patting the mattress as you rest your elbows on the bed, your back against the headboard. "Come back to bed. It's too damn early."

She sees it then, when the sheet loses in your body and she catches a glimpse of your neck full of purple marks. The most recent memories are indeed different from what she searched for before. Peeking again, it's a bit overwhelming to be invaded by the sensations of your kisses and groping all at once, a night of steamy making out in that bed, after a college party that ended long after the time you and the variant returned to this dorm. Wanda sighs, realizing that this body misses your touch just as much as she does. So addictive for every single one of her, no matter the universe.

But her silence brings a hesitation to your face, and you settle better in bed. 

"Hey, if this is about last night..." You begin, a little awkwardly with a nervous giggle. One of your hands pushes your hair back in a nervous gesture, and Wanda gasps softly. The tattoo on her forearm has very familiar symbols. She searched every corner of the multiverse and ended up with a punk covered in protective runes. This was Strange's work, of course. He was probably going to as many worlds as she was. Protecting variants before Wanda could reach them. Take them for herself. You, oblivious to the whole thing, kept talking. "It's okay if you regret it. We don't even have to talk about it if it's weird. I mean, if you want we can even go back to being just friends, I definitely don't want to lose-"

"You're not." She cuts you off, taking steps towards the bed. You fall silent in surprise, but Wanda forces a smile. "Where did you get that tattoo again?"

You frown at the sudden change of subject, stammering a little as you try to remember and then finally laugh, looking at her with some confusion. "It's just reindeer, remember? That strange woman made it for us at the beach last week. It should go away soon."

Wanda searched a little more and found the memory you mentioned. Beach, friends, witches she didn't know, that this variant didn't know how to perceive yet. A witch using the opportunity to draw protective spells on your skin as if she could read the danger in your future.

She took a deep breath and walked closer until she felt her shins hit your bed.

"Maybe you should take it off now."

You hum absently, looking at the tattoo. "Why? I liked it. You also said it was pretty. Maybe I could even make it permanent-"

"No!" She snaps back through gritted teeth, startling you a little. Forcing a smile then, Wanda considers the options. She probably can't mess with your memory right now, maybe she can keep you calm, until she finds an appropriate solution. "I just... I think your first tattoo should be something more meaningful, sweetheart. And not some cheap art from a charlatan, huh?"

You frown, before your chucle again, looking at her with confusion. "Wanda, are you high?" We got our first tattoos together in high school. Have you really forgotten that?" You look upset. Wanda hates this. Hates it with all her might. Out of everything she’s ever done, hurting you is probably the most painful and stupid thing she ever did.

She shakes her head, forcing a giggle. She bends her knees and crawls towards you, which immediately wipes the frown off your face.

Young people and their hormones.

“Oh, babe, I just got confused. I’m sorry.” She begins, and you swallow hard as she takes her place on your lap. Your hands hesitate on the mattress until Wanda grabs them and moves to her waist. “Don’t be upset.”

With your mouth dry, you try, “I’m not.” but it comes out so hoarse that Wanda wouldn’t have heard it if she hadn’t been so close. Her hands close behind your head, and you wait for her to make the first move like the good girl you’ve always been no matter what universe.

Wanda shouldn’t risk it, but she can’t resist. You seem so eager for her to do it too that she doesn’t have the heart not to. The kiss starts out innocent, tentative. She wants to know the extent of the protection runes, and eventually, she realizes that you were right about the ink coming off. Wanda manages to turn you into a mess of breathless whispers as she slides her tongue against yours, and once your arms are tightening around her waist, invading beneath her shirt, she can feel the runes melting in your skin, until finally, she feels no magic resistance. You are all hers to play with.

But like everything else she’s done, Wanda didn’t quite calculate what kissing you would do to her. The effect on her body is ridiculously incapacitating and distracting. She knows she should be muttering spells, but all that comes out of her mouth are affected gasps. Your hands move down, grabbing her ass and grinding her against your lap and Wanda forgets what she came here to do.

"I cannot believe..." You groan suddenly, between one kiss and another. "That we've gone so long without doing this." Wanda bites your lip, pulling and making you whimper, the sound sending a sharp throb through her belly. Your dilated pupils stare at her with such adoration that Wanda needs a moment.

She remembers those looks. She remembers everything. And it's only fair that you remember too.

Coming closer, she kisses you more fervently now. Enough to make you squirm on the mattress, trying to pull her down, increase the friction between your hips. But Wanda knows the passion will turn, so she controls the kiss, controls everything.

One of her hands wraps around your hair, and she's still kissing you, taking the air from your lungs as the first memories dance in flashes behind your eyes.

You frown in confusion, trying to pull away, but Wanda kisses you again, and again until you gasp in shock and her magic goes deeper into your mind, invading you without you even realizing it.

Wanda's free hand suddenly goes inside your pants and you gasp against her mouth, surprised by the touch before surrendering completely to her.

Wanda pants into your mouth, and red irises glare at you when you break the kiss with a moan. She's not gentle, her fingers pushing your panties aside and not bothering to collect much of the surrounding moisture before sinking inside, filling you up all at once. She twists her hand, pushing deeper and you whimper into her mouth. Oh, how Wanda missed feeling you like this, coming undone against her fingers. 

There’s a flash of memories again, of a team of heroes and a battle, but Wanda adjusts her hand and her palm presses against your clit, and you break into a moan and throw your head forward on her shoulder. She hums in satisfaction, the hand that’s not inside your pants moving past your hair, to your back in an attempt to calm you. 

The memories will get worse, you’ll remember everything eventually. 

Wanda knows that sooner or later you will- Your hand wraps around her throat suddenly. She’s startled, of course, but the sound sounds much more like a moan than a protest of pain. Your eyes glow the same scarlet as hers, and the once-innocent expression carries a maturity that only memories of a lifetime could give you. Your hips are still moving—hard and fast against her hand, but Wanda feels much less in charge. You squeeze her neck as you come, and she feels so ridiculously turned on that she can barely move her fingers, being used up in the final waves of your climax. Not a second later, your hand pushes hers away, and her body is pushed next. Pressed against the bed with you on top, instead of holding her neck, you hold both your hands above her head.

"I don't know what the fuck is going on, but this is a very welcome way to bring someone back to life."

She chuckles affectedly, with emotion, with lust. A little - a lot - of both. But in the end, emotion wins. The tears in her eyes are indeed from longing.

"It's so good to see you again, darling." She says hoarsely, her hands still clasped on top of her head.

You sigh, loosening your grip without letting go of her. "Wanda, how..." But she looks like she'll start crying, for real, if you have to explain. You sigh again in defeat and soften your gaze. "How about that coffee? And you explain everything to me calmly."

She nods, smiling tearfully. "You'll have to get off of me first." She jokes, but you look at her mouth and get a little closer to her face. 

"Yeah, in a minute. I don't know how long it's been, honey, but you've managed to get even more stunning." 

She laughs shyly. "Good to know you're still a flirt." 

"Only with my girl." That's what you say before closing the distance. Wanda doesn't need to think about anything or worry as long as she has this. No multiverse, no possible dead variants. She has you, and that's all that matters.

[whereserpentswalk]

Most interdimensional entities that humans consider horrifying demons and eldrich horrors actually consider humans pretty dangerous unless they're actively trained fighters. Your average extraplaner being isn't used to dealing with a species that evolved to hunt in groups, and developed to survive in violent scenarios.

Most final girl situations happen because young entities deeply underestimate that humans have such a strong will to live, and are willing to fight back agasint a stronger foe. Most older entities keep at bay for this very reason, which is why you just see them stranding around being creepy.

That pale long limbed cryptid you spotted in a subway station moved so quickly because it doesn't want to end up near you. That shadow person whose hovering over you in the woods is trying to observe you, but it will teleport away if anyone comes near it for a good reason.

And that doppelganger that's standing by your door at night just wants to observe you too. He was smart to try to copy your roommate's face, but he doesn't realize how good humans are at recognizing eachother's faces, and that his copy will be disturbing to any human who sees it. And he got way to reckless with his movements and bad attempts to imitate human speech. Trying to trick the human who he wants to study into coming to his dimensions is an even bigger mistake, especially since he didn't realize how quickly the human would catch on. He's soon going to learn things he should have read up on before hand: humans will try to attack things they're afraid of if they can't run away, humans can use almost any hard object as a weapon by holding it and swinging, and that those decorations on your wall are called 'swords' and were not originally designed as decorations...

[saltymarshmall0w]

Dp x Dc Demon twins AU

He couldn’t help the dreadful apprehension building in his gut as he approached the disaster titled “Fenton Works”. The magazine that started this all was in his lap, twisted and worn.

“Genius Child of Genius Woman Discovers Gorilla Male Actually A Female!” the cover read. 

The shock of seeing his twin brother’s face on the cover of a magazine with two adopted parents had taken Damian straight to his father, interrupting his work to shove the magazine in front of him. 

It took only four days after the debut of the magazine featuring the discovery for the Waynes to converge on Amity Park. 

It had to be a grab for their attention, of course. A magazine featuring the dead demon twin they missed the opportunity to ever meet.

Damian didn’t know what to expect from his long-dead twin. He mostly expected it to be a trick concocted by the league, having already met brainwashed clones of himself and his brother.

He hadn’t seen Danyal since he was eight years old and still naive to the league.

Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir. 

But Danyal was the “spare”, always a few seconds slower, strength giving out just a few seconds before Damian’s did. He questioned too many things and that eventually led to his death during a mission for the league. 

Of course, none of that mattered to Damian. As much as he liked being the older, better brother he much preferred having his twin by his side. Nights trading legends of the stars, whispered assurances and shared secrets. 

Just before he could ring the doorbell, the door swung open and his look-alike tumbled out of the house. 

“Yeah, I’ll be back by nine, mom!” Danyal yelled into the house, seemingly unaware of his guests as he tripped over his untied shoelace. He nearly bowled right into Damian, stopping just in time before hitting him. 

“Whoa! Sorry!” Danyal straightened, pushing his messy hair out of his eyes. He opened his mouth to say something else but snapped it closed at the appearance of his twin. 

Confusion, suspicion, and a whole myriad of expressions crossed his face, broadcasting his thoughts, before finally settling on— wonder.

“Dude, this is going to sound crazy, but you look, like, exactly like me.” 

That was how Damian found out his brother was an amnesiac.

And an idiot. 

They discovered Danyal’s identity as the town hero embarrassingly quickly, though his supposed parents didn’t notice when Phantom called them “Mo-Maddie!” 

As a civilian he was cowed by an unintelligent Jock, unknowingly stalked by a crazed conspiracy theorist, and dated one of the many “ghost hunters” that targeted Phantom. 

When Damian pointed all this out, Danny proudly let them know it was a “cover” to ensure no one would figure out his secret identity— the confident Phantom that got by on the bare bones of league instincts that remained and sheer dumb luck wasn’t the same as scaredy-cat Fenton.

His room was about as messy as Drake's, filled with the personality of a teenager untouched by the league. His friends and sister were filled with delusions of their best friend being a superhero with powers, rather than half-dead.

In a way, Damian was jealous Danyal could have such a normal life. He wasn’t weighed down by the death and pain he caused in the past. 

In other ways, Damian was grateful he wasn’t naive enough to think his own parents hunting him was “fine” or their attempts to comit war crimes on an interdimensional species “wasn’t a big deal”.

Perhaps his relapse in judgment could be forgiven. It had been six years since Damian saw his brother, in the chaos of bringing Danyal back to the manor and sending Jasmine off to an elite boarding school at her request, it wasn’t amiss that Damian had forgotten a few key details about his brother. 

Damian was always the more skilled swordsman, the faster and stronger twin. The perfect soldier and heir. 

But Danyal? 

He was an actor. He could lie, and charm and deceive better than any person Damian knew. Danyal played Mother, Grandfather and at times the entire league just to get his way. 

But he never lied to Damian before. 

At least, that was what Damian assumed, until an overcast Gotham day, where Danyal cornered Damian alone in the manor, eyes glowing an icey blue neither Phantom nor Fenton’s eyes ought to do. He wore a modern League of Assassins uniform, a familiar wakizashi blade formed from ice in his hand. 

“Grandfather wants you to quit this rebellion and come home.”

—

Other details to this idea I want but couldn’t work in

-Danny has a secret secret identity that’s a rogue that gets shit done

-Danny is lowkey annoyed Sam and Tucker were there for the whole portal incident, otherwise, he could have kept Phantom a secret. 

-Danny lived with the Fentons to steal their research and report back to Ra’s. 

-Also as a punishment for, like, questioning the league or something. 

-Danny resents Damian for being called the “spare” while Damian was the heir

-Ghost king stuff might be happening, but Danny has kept it on the DL so he could easily usurp Ra’s when he’s old enough

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina behind the cut; “mistaken identities and interdimensional refugees”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Jesus, no, I’m dating your brother,” Kon says, because fuck his life, he guesses, so much for Super-stealthing this shit. Well, at least no one’s gonna accuse him of doing the horizontal mambo with Batman again, because that is basically the worst possible assumption anyone could ever–

“Not Damian, right?” Jon asks worriedly. 

God, Kon misses Young Justice right now. Seriously, fuck solo work. Also, what the hell is taking the local Batman so damn long to show up? Like in what reality is Batman of all people just letting a pair of interdimensional Kryptonians walk in his fucking front door and just, like . . . what, hang out? Make, he doesn’t know, fucking small talk about the interdimensional gossip? 

This entire friggin’ foyer must be trapped to the fucking gills. 

“Damian is fifteen in my reality, Jon, I am in no way dating Damian,” Kon says as he suffers to fuck and back. “That would be what the kids call 'problematic as fuck'.” 

“Who the fuck is Damian?” Jason asks in bewilderment. “The only Damian we know is Talia's fucked-up little crotch goblin baby assassin.” 

“Oh,” Kon says, doing a real bad job of repressing the wince. Wow, this is gonna be a conversation. “Uh, well, he’s–” 

Then Jon bursts into tears and Kon, again, suffers. He scoops the kid back up and lets Jon bury his face in his shoulder and pats the kid’s back as soothingly as he can figure out how to, really hoping it is in any way soothing. Mostly he’s just copying Pa’s usual technique, to be honest. 

“Look, personally I think the kid's an annoying brat and he admittedly has tried to murder me on four separate occasions for being 'an unworthy suitor to the Wayne family name', but let's not talk shit about him in front of this kid, okay?” he says. “Like, that's not necessarily gonna be helpful right now.” 

“You want to avoid talking shit about a kid who literally tried to kill you?” Jason asks incredulously. “For . . . why does he even care about our family name, exactly?” 

“I mean, it is Uncle Clark,” Dick says, then looks skeptical. “Though how is your Damian fifteen, hell, how old's your Talia?” 

“Like a hundred and fifty, I'm pretty sure? Give or take a couple years,” Kon says, squinting at him in bemusement. That . . . definitely seems like something that literally any Dick Grayson who knows Talia exists should know. “How do you not know that?” 

“. . . okay that does allow for some wiggle room in his conception, admittedly,” Jason says, making a face. “Look, we never asked the crazy assassin lady her birthday, okay? We don't exchange pleasantries when we see her, we just try not to die.” 

“Understandable, you could definitely brush up on those skills,” Kon says. The razzing is definitely a reflex response after all the shit his Jason put his Tim through, but it comes out before he can think better of it. So . . . whoops on that, maybe. 

“What?” Jason says blankly. 

“. . . uh,” Kon says. Okay. So that was maybe not a thing here. Well, that might partially explain Dick and Jason apparently being less familiar with Talia, but also really does not fully explain it. Maybe this is a trap, actually, or they’re just Bat-questioning them. That would definitely make more sense, considering. 

. . . wait. If Jason dying really wasn’t a thing . . .