#so i can hold him in my hands... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starry-bi-sky · 10 months ago

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No.

No, no, no, no, NO!

He's shaking. His heart is burning in his chest, pounding like a jackhammer against his ribs, and there's a trembling, aching rage building beneath his tongue and pressing against his teeth.

In his hands, his fingers tense and wrists locked, the article reads in big, black font: JOKER LOCKED IN ARKHAM ASYLUM AGAIN!

Danny shouldn't feel so angry about this, this is a good thing. Gotham doesn't have to deal with him for another few months at the least. He should feel relieved, a little more at peace.

He is not.

He cannot swallow the fury thudding behind his eyes, the burning white heat searing a deeper hole in his chest. A searing green filling static in his ears in the way only the rage of the restless dead can have.

How is he going to kill him now?

Arkham may be the only asylum in America made entirely of tissue paper, but it's still an asylum. There are cameras, guards, other patients resting inside. Danny can think of a million different ways to sneak in and kill Joker, but someone will hear his screaming.

It'd have to be rushed.

He doesn't want it to be rushed.

It's a cruel thought. Cruel and cold and merciless, but Danny doesn't feel an ounce of shame, not an ounce of guilt, for it. He wants to be alone with the Joker when he kills him, that's all he wants. In Arkham, you are never alone.

He forces his anger to bubble back down into his chest, stuffing it between his heartstrings and his ribs like a blanket you're trying to bunch up into a corner. It sizzles and burbles. The static begins to fade out into a high-pitched ringing; it sounds like distant screaming.

Danny is still trembling, but he can think a little clearer now.

He can wait.

He can wait. He can wait. He can wait. He canwait. Hecanwait. Hecanwait.

He can wait.

He's waited five years for this. He can wait one more week. One more month. One more year. However long it takes for the Joker to break back out, Danny can wait.

And when the Joker does, inevitably, break out.

Danny uncrinkles his fingers around the edges of the newspaper, loosens his limbs just enough so he can pay for it.

He'll be waiting.

The dead, after all, have all the time in the world.

#dpxdc #danny fenton is not the ghost king #dp x dc #dpxdc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dpxdc fanfic #cfau #dpxdc ficlet #childhood friends au #*clears throat* ahem: the difference between danny and jason in cfau is that jason died while danny is dead #took my adderall today bc its the first day of classes and i alway forget it gives me The Worms. The Writing Worms.#when i can heart my heart beating in my chest thats how i know its working.#i had anger issues growing up so its very easy for me to write about intense all consuming rage that results in your vision fuzzing out and #your hands visibly shaking. first hand experience folks. god i love giving danny rage issues. he's actually got a pretty fine toothed hold #on his anger even if it consumes him. you can thank rath for that LMAO #banshee danny fenton

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strandedcrow · 1 month ago

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hi a rlly cool procreate pen (and paper) was on my feed on twt and it broke through my art block so have a sketch page

#i’ve spent the whole day stuck in a car w only my ipad and thoughts of marvel rivals winterhawk keeping me alive #i still have an hour and a half left 😭 but i think im done drawing #so here u go #my art #uhhh oh god tags #winter soldier #bucky barnes #hawkeye #clint barton #marvel rivals #lucky the pizza dog #alpine the cat #winterhawk #i wanted to make them hold hands so i did. fear my power #top left clint was sent to my rivals trio w the caption ‘how i look at my teammates when i shout ‘I NEVER MISS :D’ and then miss every shot #so yall can have the joke too #mk is in the corner bc if i don’t put him on every piece of paper i have i explode and die

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s0fter-sin · 5 months ago

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ghost who was chemically castrated by roba and soap who wants to help him to regain his sexual autonomy

nsfw, angst, roba, unnegotiated unsafe but consensual gun play, hopeful ending

💀🧼

ghost walks like it hangs low.

there’s a tilt to his hips and a spread in his thighs and johnny’s never been able to stop staring.

and ghost’s never asked him to.

he knows he’s seen him; he’s not exactly discreet. he swears he’s even seen him cock his hips out before to give him a better view. but he always pulls back just as they toe the line; verbal cold water on the tentative heat they almost can’t help but spark when they’re together.

it’s never a no; johnny’s not so selfish of a cunt that he’d push when he knows he isn’t welcome. it’s always a reluctance; an “i wish i could,” never in so many words. an open ended “but…” as ghost circles the reason without ever actually saying it. johnny knows it’s something personal, something more than a difference in rank could ever excuse.

so he backs off when ghost does, jokes instead of flirts and holds his breath through the agonising wait until ghost lets him in close again. waits to know if he’ll let him close again.

it’s almost anticlimactic, the end of their dance; his delicate steps and looping logic to work out why bulldozed as ghost comes out and says one random night, “i can’t fuck.”

it’s not bitter. it doesn’t grate coming out of his throat; he doesn’t spit it like it’s something to be ashamed, not twisted with insecurity as if it’s an accusation by an ex.

it’s a statement of fact.

“you can’t fuck,” johnny echoes anyway because even if it is the reason, the big why… it still doesn’t really answer anything.

“i can’t get it up,” he elaborates, this horrid blankness in his eyes like he’s reading from a script. “whatever you’re looking for, whatever you want- i can’t give it to you.”

johnny just looks at him, the chill air prickling his skin. “right,” he nods calmly. “because my interest in you starts and ends with your dick.”

that blank calm shatters. “johnny…” he warns.

“do you really think i’m that shallow?” he cuts in, curing himself for the way his voice breaks but he never thought ghost would think so low of him; that this whole time, ghost’s thought that’s the only thing he wants from him. “like i’d take you for a ride ‘n just drop you?”

“there’s a difference between not gettin’ it for one night and never gettin’ it at all,” ghost growls, turning his back on him to lean against the edge of the roof. his shoulders heave and the anger seeps from him in one long breath. “it’s not a hitch, johnny. not a performance issue or ptsd or whatever the fuck you’re thinkin’. it’s permanent. irreversible.”

irreversible.

johnny stops, cold creeping up his limbs and dousing his defensive anger. ghost is many things and when it comes to his words, chief amongst them all is deliberate. he didn’t say it’s unfixable. incurable.

irreversible.

johnny buries his selfish hurt and scuffs his boots, an unobtrusive warning of movement, and comes up beside him; just enough distance between them to catch their breaths. he leans back against the ledge and looks over the opposite side of the roof at the dark sky.

“mexico,” he murmurs. not an accusation. not even really a question but ghost collapses in on himself anyway; sinking into his crossed arms digging into the ledge.

“mexico,” he agrees just as quietly. “‘pparently, roba found it more entertaining to let me keep it but- cut the cords. more demeaning that way; cock’s gone, at least you don’t feel the urge. don’t have to look at the fuckin’ thing hang there when nothin’ fuckin’ works.

“it’s not ‘bout how i see you, johnny,” ghost promises and it’s almost apologetic. “but you like sex. eventually, you’ll want it. and i can’t give it to you. easier to just… not let it get to that point.”

johnny’s jaw flexes. everything in him wants to reject it, wants to protest that something as trivial as an orgasm is more important to him than ghost.

but he also knows words are useless here.

they stand there looking out into the gathering dark, tense silence hanging between them, and the only thing johnny knows is if he isn’t careful, he could lose the one person he cares about most.

💀🧼

ghost’s been uneasy since his abrupt confession.

he knows it was sudden, borderline cruel to dump his shit on johnny with no warning but he just couldn’t take it anymore; couldn’t take the back and forth when he knew it would never go anywhere, couldn’t take johnny’s hope when he knew he’d have to watch it twist into disgust and pity.

into disappointment.

he figures that’s the end of it; there’ll be no more flirting now, no more staring or heated looks, no more teasing him by spreading his knees out just to see the flash of hunger in his eyes. the control he felt playing with johnny knowing it was welcome, just because he could- he’ll never feel that again. not now that johnny knows the truth.

then he steps into his room to find johnny laying naked on his bed.

he’s not spread out like an offering, not throwing him some cheap sultry glance as he plays with himself. he’s not even hard; his cock limp over the cradle of his balls, his legs bent loosely together, arms under his head as if he’s settling down for the night.

ghost sighs and shuts the door behind him. “johnny…”

“i know,” johnny says and it’s gentle; not cutting him off, just getting his attention. “just… hear me out?”

there’s nothing else to say. there’s nothing johnny can say or do to fix his violated body. but ghost still crosses his arms and leans back against the door like he can anyway.

johnny pushes himself up and off the bed, closing the distance between them but still giving him enough space to breathe; to open the door behind him, to escape.

“i can never know what was taken from you,” he starts and ghost’s fingers dig into his arms. “i can never know what it means to you. and i can never get it back.”

he doesn’t break eye contact and slowly lowers himself to his knees. “but i can give you something else.”

“you?” ghost guesses flatly and as much as it warms his blood, as much as he’s imagined having johnny look up at him just like this… it’s still not enough to offset the sickening swoop in his gut when his cock doesn’t so much as twitch.

“i’m a nice bonus,” johnny purrs but his smile remains gentle. “but i’m not the main event.”

he lifts a hand and ghost readies to smack it away when he reaches for his thigh holster instead of his belt. he flicks the closing strap open and pulls his handgun, his favourite, free.

“you told me you can’t fuck,” he murmurs, popping out the clip. he taps it against the side and loads it back in with a practiced hit with the butt of his palm. “but fucking isn’t all there is.”

“johnny, what…” ghost starts just to cut himself off as johnny thumbs off the safety and loads a round into the chamber.

“you trust me?” johnny asks and it’s as loaded as the gun in his hand.

good then, that ghost knows the answer. “always have.”

johnny’s smile blooms with warmth, with pride, and it chases away any reluctance he could possibly feel. he lets him take his hands in his, wrapping them around the gun with his finger on the trigger guard. he brings the barrel up beside his temple, holding it steady before his hands fall away.

until it’s only ghost between him and a bullet.

johnny’s hands go to his belt, his movements slow enough for ghost to stop him long before he reaches his cock, forever hanging limp in his pants. but he just rubs the muzzle along his temple, almost nuzzling him with the gun as he pulls down his jeans and boxers.

he waits for johnny to take him in hand, maybe try and pantomime a handy, and his hips almost recoil at the thought.

but he doesn’t try to touch him.

instead, he takes his wrist and guides the gun to sit in front of his cock; angling it to follow the same slight curve he has then holds his hands behind his back like he’s standing at attention. he splays his knees wide, sinking deeper and ghost sucks in a harsh breath as johnny ducks under the gun; his eyes locked on his as he curls his tongue under the barrel and brings it into his mouth.

it takes every ounce of will he has to not let his hand shake around the gun as johnny gives it the slowest, messiest blowjob he’s ever seen; slowly rising higher on his knees, guiding the gun up with him as if it’s his cock hardening. his cheeks hollow as he sucks, tongue laving up the barrel and flicking out to play with the muzzle like a cockhead, moaning with every bob of his head until saliva drips off the metal and makes a mess of his chin.

ghost’s never felt so powerful as he does watching johnny hang off the end of his gun; watching his cock harden and drool between his legs without a single touch, knowing he could pull the trigger at any time and johnny would not only let him but he’d thank him.

the thought breaks him from his paralysis, drawing the gun from his lips and johnny immediately stills; rolling his wide eyes up like he’s trying to check on him. ghost pushes every ounce of heat into his gaze and cocks the gun to the side, slowly pushing it back in until johnny’s lips meet the trigger guard.

johnny whines as he fucks his mouth, thrusting his hips along with each long drag like the gun is an extension of his body; almost too rough as tears prick his eyes and his lips redden and bruise but he never asks him to stop; his cock leaking a puddle on the floor beneath him.

“you gonna cum for me, johnny?” ghost croons, holding back a groan when just his voice is enough to make him shiver. “gonna cum with my fucking gun down your throat?”

he gives a broken whimper, as close to an agreement as he can make, and ghost crowds in close. he grips the base of his mohawk, wrenching his head back until his throat is flush to the front of his thigh. johnny lets out a choked cry, eyes rolling back and he doesn’t hold back as he brutally fucks his face; feeling the bulge of his gun in his throat against his leg.

“come on, johnny; you wanna be my good little holster?” he growls and makes sure he’s watching as his finger moves from the guard to the trigger. “then take my fucking load.”

he forces the gun as deep as he can and johnny gags, his shaking body locking up as he cums untouched; painting the floor and ghost’s boot, cock twitching and pulsing hard enough to bump against his belly and leave a string of cum threading from it to his cock.

ghost watches him spasm and moan, his throat convulsing around the gun and a heated knot of satisfaction tightens in his gut; so close to the memory of an orgasm, he’s almost dizzy with it.

johnny slumps forward, his hands slipping from behind his back, and ghost quickly flicks the safety back on and drops to his knees. he slides the gun away and pulls johnny forward to collapse into his chest, taking his weight off his knees; his whole body trembling with aftershocks.

“you’re crazy, johnny,” ghost whispers, awed, and feels him smile against his chest.

“aye,” he agrees, voice raspy from his gun scraping up his throat. “how else am i supposed to prove that i mean it?”

ghost tries not to tense up; tries not to let hope sink its cruel roots into his chest. “mean it?”

johnny pulls back, his cheeks still flushed and sticky with spilled tears. “i’m yours, ghost; in any and every way you’ll have me,” he promises. “sex or no sex. this can never happen again and i’ll still never stop wanting you. it doesn’t matter to me as much as you do. you’re everythin’ to me, ghost. not your body; not what you can give me. just you.”

a knot crowds in his throat. “and you needed to deep throat my pistol to prove that?” he deflects.

and just like always, johnny lets him. “worked, didn’t it?” he winks. “you fucked my brains out.”

ghost rolls his eyes to hide the softness he knows is flooding them and helps johnny up and gets him into his shower; cleaning him of the sweat and cum and spit covering his body.

that ghost covered his body in.

his chest hitches at the reminder as he strips himself down to a single layer and all but falls into bed, tugging johnny in after him when he hesitates just slightly at the edge of the bed; splaying his still naked body over him, sated and loose.

“i really do mean it,” johnny whispers into the crook of his neck sometime later; when their breaths have settled and synced.

ghost sweeps his fingers up and down the length of his spine, skin he’s never seen. skin he now knows every inch of. “i know you do,” he whispers back.

and for once, he thinks it might be enough.

#hello i am once again thinking about erectile dysfunction #as i am wont to do #and how such a major loss of identity and control can seriously mess you up #thats very much the theme of this one #as much as its obviously about gunplay and how hot that is its also about regaining that control over yourself #ghost was imasculated and violated #its not really about sex and soap knows that; its about retaking what was stolen from him #the power that ghost feels is hugely important to his journey to healing #and they almost definitely arent going about it the best way but hey if it works it works #also just a little thing #but both of them nonverbally setting the boundary of soaps hands being behind his back meaning the scene is going actually makes me melt #the second soaps hands come forward not only do they both take it as the end of the scene but ghost takes it as soap not being present #enough to continue #hes slipped deep enough into subspace or hes exhausted enough that he cant hold position which means the scene is over #i love them so goddamn much #anyway i have a lot of issues with control being taken for me and why else does ghost exist if not for me to project my issues onto him!#coming out of my cage and ive been doing just fine.txt #we’re a team. ghost team #ghostsoap #soapghost #ghoap #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #soap cod #john soap mactavish #cod mw2 #cod fic

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wasyago · 2 years ago

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we're at it again🕺

#jrwi riptide #gillion tidestrider #my art #sketch #back on my bullshit woo yeah woo yeah woo yeah #genuinely a lot happier with this design than the previous ones. the lighter metal looks better on him #and this one doesn't have a lot of detail (or any detail tbh) so it looks more solid and fun i think #and you can see im trying to figure out how gill would carry his sword around #technically he should just carry it in his hands and don't have a scabbard because its a longsword and isn't supposed to be sheathed...#but like... its not practical to always carry it in his hands. especially in a day to day life. because he always has the sword on him-#but he doesn't necessarily always hold it? like. he needs hands for stuff #i think i like the back scabbard better (even if i drew the whole turnaround for the hip one) just because it doesn't mess with his tail #plus that way destiny's blade is higher up and gets to look around at stuff and i think its funny #but then like... the cape is a little awkward if it has to go above the sword...#but its not a big deal. if he has a cape and armor on he probably holds the sword in his hands anyway #am i putting too much thought into this unnecessary detail? yes #am i rambling in the tags again instead of making a separate post? also yes

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lunarcrown · 1 year ago

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Renthubs commission for @dioslab from @plumelagoon from their fic "eros and psyche" ~~ please read it and get all misty eyed like I did at a tale of curses, arranged marriage, lunar kings and demon princes! And also check out the official matching art piece that @briseise did for their collab a bit back right here!!!! it's beautiful as all things honey does of couuurse!!!

#renthubs #hermitshipping #rendog #ethosab #bdoubleo100 #my art #can i say i LOVED thinking about what body language i wanted everyone to have #it was SO FUN #bdubs: arms thrown around and head tucked into rens hair as he chatters #etho: more upright and less leaned in but one hand resting over rens massive thumb and the other resting on top of where its holding him #ren: holding them close and careful and avoiding any tight grip or claws and happily talking with etho while also keeping one ear turned #to listen to bdubs as well AND ALSO TAIL WAG OF COURSE

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somegrumpynerd · 5 months ago

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Actually it turns out I had more thoughts about that post that I forgot about lol

Would Nightmare actually give up his boys? Yes and no

If it was just a black and white situation of they're miserable, they don't wanna be here, they have somewhere better to be, then yes. He would leave them out to wherever they needed to be despite his own feelings and very quickly realise afterwards just how much he'd gotten used to the noise and company. I think he would get a little clingy with Dream about it, which I'm sure Dream would find very weird after everything but not unwelcome, he did miss his brother after all.

(If he couldn't attach himself to Dream's side for whatever reason, I think he might just sit in his castle and go insane. Or maybe he'd just spend all day at Ccino's trying really hard to project that he just likes the atmosphere and isn't lonely as hell)

But the thing is, most of them don't have somewhere better to be. Horror has his au, and Nightmare would keep up the supply of food even if Horror said he wanted to quit at this point, so he would understandably let him return home. Killer, Dust and Cross effectively don't have aus anymore though, and they tend to get into self-destructive habits when they're left to their own devices. (Obviously bringing Color and Epic into the mix to make sure Killer and Cross are taken care of eases matters, but Dust doesn't really have any friends outside their group he could go stay with - that Nightmare knows about at least).

The flipside of this is that his boys may not necessarily want to be given up. I think if Nightmare got really in his head about this he could easily end up convinced this is the right thing to do without ever asking them if it's what they want, with potentially terrible results. He's established such a pattern of always returning to find Killer when they get seperated, that if he never showed up Killer might just keep sitting there and waiting for him greyfriar's bobby style, refusing to leave because he's certain his boss is coming back.

#UTDR #UTMV #Dadmare #Horror and Dust might take it slightly better but I think they still wouldn't appreciate being rehomed out of the blue with no discussion #Don't get me started on Cross he has such a bad track record with people not showing up for him as it is #If Nightmare left him to live with Epic one day Cross would spend the rest of his life thinking he did something wrong #and wondering what it was that he wasn't worth keeping #I do think the idea of him getting glued to Dream's hip must be funny for Blue tho #''Yes this is the being of all negativity in the multiverse. Don't mind him we're holding hands because he gets seperation anxiety''#I feel like a lot of this could come from Color's suspicion of him. because he's very much on Killer's side from the beginning #And Nightmare wasn't good at the beginning so it's understandable. it's hard to take Killer's word that he's changed because #Killer /would/ say that whether it's true or not y'know?#But I think Color shining a light on how things began makes Nightmare reflect a lot on their situation #Not to say that Color's the bad guy or anything obviously. He's respecting Killer's decisions while also keeping a good level of suspicion #about how Nightmare treats them when he's not around #It just makes Nightmare uneasy because he's made a lot of mistakes in the past and he's still learning #He is - for now at least - very very aware of just how mortal they are #And he wants to do right by them. even if it means giving them up to better places #I need to finish my fanfic... Anyway.#Luckily for him - in this particular case - this is where they are all best suited c:#Alright I let this cook in my drafts for about 3 days with some edits it can be posted now lol

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