#Prompt me or Tempt me

[aeide-thea]

on principle opposed to describing art i dislike as 'masturbatory' because even though it's an alluringly contemptuous word to sneer it's impossible to reconcile with my pro-masturbation stance

[sirrentxt]

Something about Luis leaning into Virgin Mary more than Jesus and God himself. Something about her being associated with holiness, hope, conversion of a sinner and motherly love.

His mother, absent; a memory, a tale, not so different from the knights and the dragons, save for the things that—Grandfather claims—carry the imprint of her fingers, the things that had the pleasure to witness the gentleness of her hand, years past. To Luis, she's family, familiar, a stranger, a ghost; a blurry figure in the eye of his mind. No pictures, no paintings, just his Grandfather's words: you have her eyes.

Luis being taught that, even if they say otherwise, God's love is conditional; but having Grandfather, more so than the Priest, be the source of information about Holy Mary. And never having Grandfather imply that her love is conditional. Luis believing that even if he's abandoned by God and His son, the Mother will be there for him.

Grandfather telling little Luis that his mom is watching over him alongside the Holy Mother. That even when mom can't watch over him, Mother Mary can, and she does, and she always will.

Her love isn’t religious, in his eyes. It’s purely motherly.

You can't love her more than Jesus did, Grandfather says to him one day, in passing. Luis thinks it a challenge, and loves her even more.

The drastic difference between God (Father; Allfather, paternal, proud, unreachable, mighty. God give me strength and God bless and God be with you. Conditional love; hate for the sinner. The one to exile, condemn, abandon) and Virgin Mary (Mother; maternal, gentle, caretaker. Present in households, a symbol of hope, protector of hearth. Unconditional love, no matter the weight of the sin, no matter what happens—watching over her children)

Luis' life, where God exists mainly in the church, in the prayer, in the concept—but Mother Mary is present, and in every house; somehow, or more so, even in his house, the house where no mother reaches out to her for strength and guidance, for protection from evil, because there is only two of them here; he and Grandfather.

In this house, she fills in the blanks.

When he's older and push comes to shove, it's not God or Jesus that he keeps close to his heart. When he thinks himself a sinner, a lost lamb, when the gifted cross no longer gleams around his neck, resting instead in a dusty drawer under ink-stained notes—it's the silhouette of Holy Mary that keeps him company, engraved on a ring he got, in a subtle reach for faith, off a man at the flea market. It's Holy Mary's image that he turns towards the wall on the nights when men pass through his sheets. It's her that sits patiently in the back of his mind, the corner of his kitchen, even though no prayer leaves his lips, other than the sinful ones he doesn't dare repeat in the light of day—they're not for the ears of the Mother, and they're not for the ears of God.

He might be His child, and still he picks Mother over Father.

pet project: meta // luis, on holy mary

[moeblob]

Happy Birthday to Ferdinand von Aegir!

I actually made 33 emotes, affectionately known as Aegirglyphics to some, for my own personal use on discord. However, I figure why not share some of them! They're free to use for discord servers/icons/pfps or whatever. However, my only request is Do NOT use them as subscriber emotes on Twitch. You can make them free follower emotes but you are not to make them locked behind a paywall.

[hypewinter]

Has anyone ever down a dpxdc story set in the Battinson universe? I'm genuinely asking because the thought won't leave me alone and it's absolutely hilarious.

Just the thought of Bruce "I don't like people" Wayne interacting with Danny "people don't like me" Fenton is sending me. Give me these two feeding off of each other's negative energy while Alfred and a newly adopted Dick are shaking their heads off to the side. Now they have to take care of two moody teenagers, fantastic.

Heck, let's throw in the Nasty Burger incident for some angst. Danny is going through a whole tornado of emotions and Bruce in all of his awkward glory is speed reading as many books about grief that he can get his hands on. How is Danny more complicated to deal with than Dick? He thought dealing with Dick was the most complicated things could get.

[fendeavor]

You Were Meant For Me

Big thank you to @atthedugouts and to @galladrabbles for this one! It's slightly different to my usual because this particular prompt made me think of a much bigger idea so come join me in the tags for a whole lot of rambling.

---

“Made a coffee for you this morning,” Ian admits down the phone, listening to Mickey’s responding laugh that’s distorted by the crappy prison line. “Musta been on autopilot.”

“Well, I got you an extra jello at lunch. Didn’t realize till I got back to my cell and checked my pockets.”

“We’re just so used to being together.”

“I know, it’s not long. Okay? Focus on the positives, I’m not around to nag your ass about the fact you’re drinkin’ coffee. Or leave my towels lyin’ round like you hate.”

Despite himself, Ian laughs. “Still… I’d much rather have you here.”

[ladylynse]

I know I said I wasn't going to do anything else for DPCAW24 (Danny Phantom Crossover Angst Week) but now I'm wondering how many of the remaining prompts I can shove into a final fic and if I can finish a one-shot today after all....

[necrotic-nephilim]

au for the ask game, cass starts to romantically pursue dick trying to model after the repressed feeling in Bruce (trying to be like batman) and not fully understanding the emotions, bruce sees this and becomes jealous and so dick is caught in the middle of the two bats fighting for his love but he sees them both familiarly (like brother and sister)

for the ask game!

OOOOOOH. yes yes yes. i love how much Cass truly wants to *embody* Batman. like that is her goal. to embody the Mission, to put her whole life into the symbol, the work. so it's fun to play with the grey areas where she misunderstands what is Bruce and what is Batman, and attempts to emulate his more problematic behaviors.

so I just. I love the idea of Cass perceiving this as normal. like, that is just how being Batman works because for Bruce, his love for Dick *genuinely* is so integral to being Batman. like it's undeniable even to an outsider, how much Bruce needs Dick as a moral compass, as a true north, as his family. Cass just happens to pick up on it being entangled with a romantic longing that Bruce has *zero* interest in pursuing. until of course, he sees Cass pursuing it. bc i think Dick gets flirted with so much, he sort of tunes it out. he doesn't notice, immediately, that Cass is trying to flirt with him, especially bc Cass isn't the best at it. she's trying tho! but Bruce. Bruce notices instantly and at first, he thinks it's the same sort of hero crush Tim has for Dick and that it's no real issue. until Cass starts genuinely pursuing Dick. they start with an awkward standoff. the fun thing about Bruce and Cass is they don't need words to argue, they just need pointed stares and clear actions. Cass flirts with Dick, Bruce makes a point to not have them work together on the latest mission, all while staring her down. Dick can tell there's some kind of tension going on, but no matter how much he prods, he can't *quite* figure it out.

Dick slowly realizes when Cass gets more bold. at this point she's both doing it to spite Bruce and to be Batman, but along the way, there are some real feelings. Dick tries to... gently turn her down/ he doesn't want to hurt her feelings, but Cass doesn't have the best understanding of romantic vs familial love, so she can tell Dick loves and cares about her and she just assumes he's a little shy about it and she doubles down. besides, that's what Bruce does at Batman, and that's her real goal here. meanwhile, Bruce has never acted on his feelings before, but he'll be damned if Cass beats him to Dick. so he also starts. dropping hints toward Dick. becoming more romantic toward Dick with gestures and gifts. and now Dick is caught between the two of them both lavishing him with attention and compliments.

Dick being kind of at a loss of what to do is fun. like how do you even navigate two people who you view as family both deciding to start a small war over courting you. he's flattered, but he just wants things back to normal. and whenever he rejects one of them, it just spurns on the other to think they're gaining ground. logically, Bruce is aware that Dick doesn't reciprocate for either of them. but he's driven by such an angry possessive streak over Cass' actions he's not exactly thinking with his brain. Bruce can be the goddamn king of petty, when he wants to be. the ante just keeps getting upped, until i think one of them even gets bold enough to come onto Dick sexually. probably Cass first.

on one hand, i do sort of like the idea of Dick finally caving and agreeing to date one of them just to make it stop. i think he'd go with Cass, just because she's closer in age and far more agreeable than Bruce is. i rlly love a fic with an unhappy hurt/no comfort ending where Dick sacrifices his happiness for his loves ones because it's so in character for him. if it makes Cass happy, he'll go with it, bc he really does love her and maybe he can trick himself into being in love with her. but i think the more realistic route is that probably with Tim and Alfred's help, Dick stages a serious intervention where he laws down the law in no uncertain terms. Bruce and Cass agree to back off, but it's does take months before their standoffish behavior with each other subsides.

and as a hilarious ending, i think it'd be funny if the cycle starts again when Bruce gets eyes for someone else. bc this whole thing is what convinces him to move on from Dick and try to focus on himself, so he starts getting feelings for someone else and of course Cass is going to jump on it. i think the funniest option here is Minhkhoa Khan, bc that is a man who would take one look at the situation and fucking *preen* over the attention and lean right into that shit, just to see how far he can take it.

[wisteria-whump]

it's spring so i have to remind everybody that you can and maybe should make your characters afraid of thunderstorms!!

[ladytauria]

to celebrate hitting 50k i'm sharing a snippet of the longfic i'm currently working on <3 (thank you v much to both @deepwithintheabyss and @paprikadotmp4 for the encouragement & brainstorming help <3)

still untitled (i've been calling it the "aob dubcon fic" lmao) but i have written a summary:

Jason tries to sell off his first heat to make ends meet for the upcoming winter. When he’s taken by traffickers instead, he’s sure that’s the end of him—until he’s rescued by a mysterious alpha. That “rescue” comes with a price: Jason’s heat hits shortly after, and… one thing leads to another, and now Jason and Tim are bound together by a fledgling mate bond. It’s not the first time Jason’s had to make the best of things, but… he finds it a little bit easier this time, especially as he grows to genuinely like Tim. Unfortunately, just as they're starting to settle into mated life, Tim’s ex-pack starts getting involved, and they don’t exactly approve of Tim’s choice in mate—never mind that it wasn’t really a choice at all.

cws/tags for this snippet: reverse robins, aob dynamics, underage jason (15), first aid, medical inaccuracies (probably; i'm not a doctor, so i'm warning to be safe), hurt/comfort, touch starvation, anxiety, allusions to captivity related ptsd, self-deprecation, brief memories of non-consensual touching

editing to add: this snippet takes place in the 2nd half of chapter 2 <3 (& was originally the second scene for the fic lol)

i have also previously shared a snippet of the scene after this, when jason's heat hits, here.

Tim parks outside of an old apartment building. The brick facade is worn, cracked and peeling in places. Most of the windows are intact at least, though; two of them have lights on, the rest dark.

Tim gets out first, already having rounded the car by the time Jason is swinging his legs out. His hand rests on the door, waiting patiently for Jason to join him on the sidewalk. Then he shuts it. One hand rests on Jason’s back again, a gentle guide inside.

There’s a man at the desk near the front entrance, reading a newspaper. He spares them a brief, bored glance before going back to it.

There’s an out of order sign on the elevator, so they have to take the stairs. It’s just two flights, but by the end, Jason’s slightly out of breath. He’d thought he was in pretty good shape, but—

He guesses spending nearly a week in a small, windowless room hasn’t done him any favors.

Tim stops at a door in the middle of the hall, unlocking it and letting Jason go in first. The main room is all one room; living room transitioning to kitchen, separated by an island counter. Tim guides Jason to the couch, directing him to sit while he gets the first aid kit.

The couch is worn but comfortable, cushions sinking under Jason’s weight, cradling him.

Tim disappears down the hall, and returns a few moments later holding the biggest first aid kit Jason has ever seen. Not that he’s really an expert on the things, but— The one at his house was pretty small.

And mostly empty, honestly.

The coffee table looks comically small under it. It makes Jason’s belly flip with nerves, remembering the feeling of latex covered hands on his body, spreading him open.

He bites his lip.

Tim doesn’t open it, though; instead, he slips into the kitchen. He comes back a moment later, holding a bottle of purple Gatorade. Then, he kneels in front of Jason. It’s—odd. Having an alpha kneel in front of him, voluntarily. Even though Jason knows he doesn’t exactly have any power here, the visual dissonance is—

Odd.

He offers up the bottle. It takes a moment for Jason’s hands to move, but he does take it. His fingers fumble with the cap; he flushed, embarrassed despite himself, but gets it open.

As soon as it touches his lips, his thirst hits him full force. He allows himself two large gulps to wet his throat, and then forces himself to slow down, sipping instead.

When he screws the cap back on, he finds Tim still there. Waiting. He twists his hands around the plastic nervously.

“Alright,” Tim says gently. “Other than the bruise on your side, and the rope burns… are you injured?”

Jason shakes his head, twisting the sleeves of the alpha’s jacket. “Nn-nn. Just some bruises,” he says softly. He pauses. “And, um. I did hit my head once. It still hurts, but— I’m not, like, dizzy or nothin’.”

Tim nods. “Alright,” he says. “I’d like to do a head injury evaluation anyway. I’ll just feel over your skull, and then use a penlight to evaluate your pupil dilation. I’ve got cream for the rope burns, and for the bruise—” Tim hesitates a moment, then continues, “I’ll need to check and make sure nothing is cracked, and there’s no internal bruising.” He pauses again. “As long as there’s nothing serious anywhere else… I have some painkillers you can take, when we eat.”

Jason takes a moment to absorb all of that, and then nods, tipping his head forward obediently.

There’s a part of him screaming at himself not to be so compliant. To kick and claw and scratch and bite and fight, the way he has been for the past week. But he’s— He’s so tired, and sore, and—

The alpha smells so good, and— The smiles he keeps giving Jason melt something inside of him. He wants to keep seeing them. Keep earning them.

Tomorrow that might scare him.

Tonight—

His eyes fall closed when Tim’s fingers slide into his curls. The touch is achingly gentle. It feels— It feels good. Nice. Jason can’t help but lean into it. He thinks Tim’s hands linger a little longer than they need to, like he’s indulging Jason’s obvious enjoyment of the touch.

He does pull away eventually. Jason bites back his whine, instead sitting back up against the cushions.

“No bumps,” Tim murmurs. He gets out the penlight next, and cups Jason’s face as he shines a light first in one eye, and then the other. Jason grimaces, hissing a little as he squints. The light aggravates his aching head. “Pupil dilation is normal.” He pockets the light, and strokes Jason’s cheek with his thumb before he pulls away. “Now, I need to check your bruises.”

Jason bites his lip again. The constant worrying is starting to make the top layer of skin break and flake under his teeth. He averts his eyes, rolling the sleeves of the suit jacket up, exposing his hands. Then he pulls his shirt up, bunching it up just beneath his breasts.

His stomach jumps when Tim touches him. Tim pauses, hand hesitating, just barely touching Jason’s skin, and then— He starts to rumble, low and deep.

Jason whines. He doesn’t mean to—but it bursts from him; he can’t stop it, can’t muffle it. It’s a soft, helpless little keen, and the alpha’s rumble gets louder in response. He scoots closer, until he’s between Jason’s knees. His hand settles onto Jason’s skin, curving around his side. His other hand comes to cup Jason’s shoulder, thumb rubbing gentle circles through his clothes.

“It’s alright,” he soothes, the rumble deepening his voice. The sound—

Jason has only vague memories of his father rumbling for him, from when he was much, much smaller. Before working as a henchman had stolen much of his father’s good will. Other than that, Jason has only ever heard alphas rumble on TV. It’s—

It’s a really nice sound.

Against his will, tears fill his eyes, and he raises his hand, pressing his palm over one, like he can force them back inside. Tim’s hand settles against his side, just underneath the bruising. “You’re alright,” the alpha murmurs. “It’s okay to cry, pup.”

Jason sniffs, loud in the quiet. “I—I—”

“Shh, puppy.” Tim’s hand doesn’t leave Jason as he rises, slipping onto the couch beside him. His other hand cups the back of Jason’s head, tugging him forward—Jason’s arms come up automatically, wrapping around Tim’s neck, his shirt falling back over his abdomen. The alpha’s scent drips with comfort and the promise of protection and Jason—

He feels… He feels warm, and safe, and—

A sob rattles through his chest. Tim holds him closer, tighter, his arm winding around Jason’s waist. He buries his nose in Jason’s curls, stroking his skin with his thumb as he rocks him, slowly.

Jason’s chest heaves. His whole body shakes with each sob, so much that Jason is worried he’s going to shake himself apart. Tim’s steady hold feels like all that’s keeping him together.

It’s not just the last few days, it’s— It’s everything, since his Mom got sick and Dad turned to working as henchman and their lives just… fell apart. He’s— Jason’s been on his own for so long. Longer even than he’s been on the streets. Every day has been a fight for survival and Jason—

Honestly, he thought he’d finally lost.

Tim murmurs in his ear. Jason can’t hear a word of what he’s saying, but the tone is low and gentle, and Jason clings to it.

It takes a long time for Jason’s sobs to subside. Jason— He doesn’t know how long exactly. But he does know that when he’s done he feels exhausted. He slumps into Tim’s chest, tremors still running down his spine. His face is sticky. He definitely got snot all over Tim’s nice shirt, and that—

He’s too tired to even worry about Tim’s reaction.

Fingers comb through his hair again, lightly scritching his scalp. He lets out a soft sigh, slumping even more against the alpha’s chest.

Tim hums. He noses at Jason’s temple; a gentle nudge Jason grumbles at. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I still need to look at your bruises.”

Jason whines—the same plaintive little puppy whine he used to give his mom when he wasn’t ready to get up yet, for one reason or another. It makes Tim huff, amused; the humor reflected in his scent. It’s nice. Really nice.

He noses at Jason’s temple again. “Pup.” His voice is a little more stern. It’s not threatening, though—doesn’t even make Jason’s hackles raise. Tim is still rumbling. Close as they are, it feels like it’s seeping into Jason’s bones. It lessens the ache in him. His skin— His skin has been itchy for years, but. The creepy crawling of it has subsided, for now at least.

He’s comfortable. Jason doesn’t want to move.

He does anyway, sitting back with a scowl on his face. It makes Tim smile—his scowl deepens.

“I’ll be quick,” Tim promises.

Jason huffs a little. He leans back against the couch cushions. Tim’s hand is still under his shirt, sliding back over to the injured side as Jason lifts it. He feels— He feels more settled now. Less nervous, though butterflies still flutter between his ribs.

Jason watched Tim’s fingers probe gently around the bruising. The purple has started to fade to a greenish hue, but it still hurts when he prods it. Jason’s quiet, pained noises are soothed with soft rumbles and fingers rubbing his shoulders.

When he’s done, Tim’s hand lingers, laying casually on his waist. Jason’s skin would normally be prickling, but—

It isn’t.

It hasn’t this whole time, any time the alpha touched him.

“I don’t feel any cracks or breaks. Did— Were there any injuries to your back?” He’s no longer rumbling.

Jason misses it already. There’s a part of him that wants to snuggle up to him, see if he can’t coax that rumble back out.

He ignores it; instead shaking his head. “No. They— The, um, the boss said they were supposed to keep me as uninjured as possible. Any punishment had to be careful not to leave a mark.”

Tim hums. He strokes Jason’s skin with his thumb, and then slips his hand from Jason’s waist. It—

Jason finds that he misses it.

Tim leans forward, finally opening the first aid kit. It’s stocked, full of things Jason has names for and things he doesn’t. Tim takes out two things: the first, a small jar, and the second, a bottle of puppy’s Tylenol. Jason—he doesn’t like it, but he can’t really argue with it. Not at his size and weight and everything. They’re pills, at least, and chewable too,

Jason examines them carefully before he takes them, washing away the chalky flavor with the drink he’d been given before.

Tim unscrews the lid of the jar. The cream inside smells herbal, though not unpleasantly so. Jason holds out his arm, relaxing into the couch as the alpha works the cream into his skin.

It’s easy to let his eyes fall half-lidded. Jason is warm and sleepy. The air is thick with protective alpha scent; it soothes his hind-brain, the part that is purely omega, purely pup and longing for the comfort and safety of pack.

A small voice in the back of his mind is screaming, telling him he needs to keep his guard up.

It’s easy to ignore like this. To focus on nothing but gentle hands on his skin and the ambient noise around him; the hum of electricity and the distant noise of outside traffic.

Jason drifts.

He barely registers when the alpha switches arms, coming back up only to croon confusedly when Tim stops touching him. He blinks up at him, and gets a kind smile in return.

“Hush, pup,” the alpha soothes. “I’m going to get us something to eat.”

Jason blinks slowly at him and hums in acknowledgment. Tim gets a blanket from—somewhere, and lays it over him. It’s soft. Jason likes it. He nuzzles into it, into more of the alpha’s scent, and sighs.

He can hear Tim moving around in the kitchen—the clatter of dishware and pans, the bubbling of boiling liquid, the sound of his soft footsteps. He can smell something savory—chicken, he thinks, and garlic.

He drifts again, stirring only when Tim nudges him gently. A steaming bowl of soup is pressed into his hands.

“It’s hot,” Tim warns, a bit unnecessarily.

Jason still burns his tongue on the first mouthful. He doesn’t care. Having the food in front of him has made him realize how ravenous he is. His bowl is empty far too soon, though he’s too stuffed to go back for seconds.

His empty bowl is taken from him, and then Tim returns again. “C’mon, pup,” he murmurs. “I’ve got a spare toothbrush you can use. A spare den, too. I’ll get you some nesting materials and pajamas while you brush your teeth.”

Jason reluctantly leaves the couch and blanket behind, shuffling down the hall and into the bathroom. Tim procures a toothbrush for him, and then leaves.

It’s a relief to brush his teeth.

His captors had done it for him, so rough his gums had bled and ached. They still bleed under Jason’s gentle ministrations, but at least it doesn’t hurt. By the time he’s rinsing his mouth, Tim has returned, a bundle in his arms. He offers it to Jason.

“Clothes,” he says, a little unnecessarily.

Jason takes them, and Tim leaves again, giving him privacy. Jason goes to shut the door and then—

Hesitates.

He doesn’t want it open. But— He doesn’t…

What if he shuts it, and it won’t open again?

He’s. He’s being silly.

There’s no way this apartment has more than one bathroom. Trapping Jason inside here would be dumb, and he doesn’t think this alpha is dumb.

Jason takes a deep breath. He shuts the door.

Except—

He doesn’t. The latch hits the frame and Jason stops. His heart thunders in his ears. His breaths come sharper, quicker. He can’t. He can’t, he can’t, he can’t.

Tears burn in his eyes.

It’s not fair.

He rests his head against the frame; one hand cradling the bundle of clothes to his chest, the other gripping the doorknob.

God. He’s so fucking pathetic.

He shudders. Takes a deep breath. It shakes on his exhale, a tremor in his chest. It’s fine. He doesn’t have to shut it all the way. He can leave it like this, with the metal latch over the door frame, only the tiniest sliver of hallway visible.

It’s fine.

He’s fine.

Jason strips quickly, clothes falling into a puddle at his feet. He yanks on the pants the alpha provided. They’re a little short at the ankle, and he has to draw the drawstrings all the way out for them to stay up, but. They fit well enough.

The shirt, too, is a little big, hanging off slightly at one shoulder. It doesn’t show his breasts, and hangs down to his mid-thigh, so Jason doesn’t mind.. Both pants and tee are soft on his skin, not scratching like the other set did.

There’s a hamper. Jason drops his old clothes in, though he’d much rather see them in a dumpster somewhere. The jacket—

Jason hadn’t realized how much it had been comforting him until now. Without it, he feels almost naked. Exposed. He wants to put it back on again. He resists the urge, though. Instead, he straightens it as best he can, then folds it in half and lays it on top of the hamper before he exits the bathroom.

Tim isn’t in the living room any more, and Jason stands, nibbling on his lip. Maybe he should go for the door… but. He can’t bring himself to. Instead he stands there, uselessly, until he hears rustling further down the hall.

He approaches tentatively, and finds Tim in the den at the end of the hall.

Tim glances up when he hears Jason approach, and smiles a little. “I was just getting out some nesting materials,” he says, gesturing.

In front of him is a cushioned nest base, held off the ground by a wooden frame. Piled on top of it is—

Jason had been expecting maybe a couple of blankets and some pillows, but—

The blankets are piled tall; the one on top Jason recognizes as the blanket he’d been using on the couch. There are plenty of pillows, too—and padding, for added layers, and cushions, and, it’s… It’s a lot.

Jason’s throat feels a little tight. “Thanks,” he says, voice small.

“Of course, pup,” Tim says gently. He’s pulled his scent in tight now, but when he draws nearer, Jason catches a whiff of safehere and everythingsokay drifting off of him. His hand moves slow enough it would be easy for Jason to avoid it, but. He stays still, letting the alpha brush his knuckles over his cheek.

“Goodnight, pup,” he murmurs. “If you need me, I’ll be just down the hall.”

Jason nods. The alpha’s hand drops, and then he leaves.

The rest of the den… It’s not bare, but it lacks a personal touch. There’s a chest of drawers in the corner closest to the closet; a nightstand by the nest; and curtains hanging over the window. He shuffles further in, leaving the door open behind him.

He leaves the nest alone for now. Instead—

He goes for the closet first, opening the door. It’s bare inside, except for a thin layer of dust. Jason shuts it again. He opens the drawers, as quietly as he can. Empty as well. The den smells— Not stale, it’s definitely been used before, but. He catches the barest hints of alpha scent, and other than that… It just smells clean.

Jason rubs at his eyes.

No more putting it off.

As much as he doesn’t want to… Jason doesn’t shut the door all the way. Instead, just like in the bathroom, he leaves it open the tiniest sliver. Anything more, and he won’t be able to sleep. Anything less—

Panic.

Even the thought makes his heart race.

Jason rubs his face. He hates this. He hates it so much. Fuck. Sometimes it feels like life is just out to get him. Like—someone or something out there wants him to suffer.

Stop it. Plenty of people have it worse than you do, he scolds himself. He’s safe right now, or— He has the illusion of safety, at least. The alpha is being nice. Jason is— He’s not bound up. The door isn’t locked. There are no bars on the window. Tim treated his injuries. Held him when he cried. Gave him food and something to drink and soft clothes.

And he’d given Jason plenty of material to make a nice, comfortable nest to den in. One that might finally satisfy the instincts that have been screaming at him.

Jason takes a breath, and pads over to the nest. The sheer amount of material before him is almost overwhelming, but… He goes through it slowly. He starts with the padding, layering it into the nest base and using the cushions to help give it shape. He tests it as he goes, until he has something that’s plush, but not so much that it will engulf him. He works a nest cover over it. It’s a bit of a struggle to get it on, but Jason manages; only a little winded by the end. What padding and cushions he didn’t use—

He decides to put them in the closet, where they’ll be out of the way.

Blankets next.

Jason sorts through the pile slowly, rubbing each on his cheek. Scenting them. The one he used on the couch is the strongest scented; still thick with the contentment he’d felt in the alpha’s arms, and the protective, comforting scent Tim had drenched the air with.

He ends up using a little over half of the blankets Tim provided. The rest he puts in the closet.

Pillows—

Jason doesn’t use as many of them. He ends up putting most of them in the closet. And then, finally—

His nest is done.

He stands back, surveying his handiwork. He trills with pride, running his hand over the edge. His nest is soft. Cozy. It needs— It needs books. And— His fox. He misses his fox, the one his mom gave him. He kept it— He managed to keep it safe, all this time.

It’s probably gone now. Or ruined.

His eyes sting, and he swipes at them roughly.

Jason is so tired of crying.

He climbs into bed, pulling the blankets over and around him, snuggling down into the pillows. It feels—

Safe.

There’s something missing, though. Jason— He’s not sure what it is, but—

He’ll worry about it in the morning.

[sysig]

can you draw edgar and scriabin playing on a park like brothers for the vargastober? ty!

Day 7 - Play stupid games

[doverstar]

send me a one-word prompt and a ship and I'll write you a lil oneshot and post it on ao3, how's that? feed me

[rockitmans]

Send me a Ship and a Number and I will Write a Kiss

…on a scar.

Love the list and tempted to send ore than one number in one go . . but I won't be greedy . . 😊

from the kiss list / see the rest

Notes: Mentions of the fact that Blaine has scars caused by his Sadie Hawkins experience but no details about it.

~~~~~

"So I can't help but notice," Kurt says. "That no one else is home." 

He smiles mischievously and pulls Blaine down next to him on the bed. Blaine feels the affection unfold in his stomach. He loves Kurt like this. Cheeks flushed and eyes bright and so obviously interested that it soothes some of Blaine's constant insecurities. 

"Hmm," Blaine hums like this fact had completely escaped him and the thought hadn't been thrumming under his skin for the whole car ride here. "Yeah. I guess my parents are both out tonight."

Kurt doesn't bother to act coy. His arms slide over Blaine's shoulders and then their mouths meet, soft and warm. 

It still feels so new. Kissing Kurt. Even though it's been a few months now. Months of sweet, shy kisses that have melted into heated making out. They've learned how to turn their heads to perfectly fit together. Blaine knows that Kurt's nose fits in the groove of his cheek. He knows that Kurt makes a gorgeous, needy little noise if Blaine's teeth catch on his bottom lip. He knows that his hand always finds Kurt's cheek or jaw, eager to keep him close. 

It's unusual for them to get any real privacy and Blaine doesn't fully know what he expected from suddenly getting some, but he loves how it’s turned out. Just the opportunity to kiss slowly and lazily, a constant catch and release of mouths and shared breaths until his ears are flushed and his lips feel swollen and Kurt's eyes are dark and heavy. 

Blaine can't believe how good kissing feels. He could happily never stop kissing Kurt. 

"Can I…?" Kurt breaths, trailing off. He toys with the buttons on Blaine's shirt. 

"Hmm?" Blaine can't stop staring at Kurt's mouth. Slightly red and damp. Completely kissable. 

"Can we take our shirts off?"

Blaine freezes, breath catching nervously. He wants to see Kurt so badly and trail his fingers across Kurt's perfect skin. Map out the shape of him without clothes in the way. But. That would also mean exposing himself. And he doesn’t know whether to warn Kurt about the scars. The ones that spider from his hips and up across his ribs. But the warning will just invite more questions. He doesn’t want to talk about Sadie Hawkins right now. Not because he doesn’t trust Kurt. But because he just wants to be with him in the moment and not invite his past into this bubble they’ve created.

Of course, not telling him means that Blaine might have to watch his face turn to shock or disgust. Blaine is not ashamed of the scars. And he doesn’t think that Kurt is the sort of person to care about them either. But there’s always that small level of doubt. 

"Blaine?" Kurt prompts gently. "Sorry. It's too soon. Forget I-"

“No,” Blaine interrupts. He cups Kurt’s face. “It’s not that. I want to. Just… do mine first.”  He doesn’t want to talk about the scars. But he does want to get the reveal over with.

Kurt catches Blaine’s eye as he reaches for Blaine’s buttons again. He makes quick work of them, hand sliding warmly over Blaine’s collarbone as the sliver of skin is exposed. Blaine shrugs out of the shirt before he can change his mind, letting Kurt pull it away eagerly like a kid tearing wrapping off a gift. 

He hears the way Kurt’s breath catches. “Wow,” Kurt murmurs. He sounds reverent rather than appalled so Blaine chances a glance at his face. His eyes are soft with open adoration. It makes Blaine’s own breath stutter. He thinks Kurt must not have noticed the scars somehow, as impossible as that would be. But Kurt places his hands directly over the worst of them in a gentle caress. 

“Does this hurt?” he asks. 

“No. They’re old scars.”

Kurt gives him a knowing look. Like he knows as well as Blaine that some scars never truly heal. “Can we lie down?” 

Blaine wants to protest that Kurt still has his shirt on but if Kurt looked at him the way he is now whilst half naked, he might just combust on the spot. So he just nods. He lets Kurt push him down. Kurt doesn’t quite straddle him but he does hover over him, pressing another lush kiss to his waiting lips before turning his attention to Blaine’s chest again. 

It’s startling when he puts his lips directly on Blaine’s bare hip. Blaine’s breath punches out of him. For all the kissing they’ve done, it couldn’t prepare him for Kurt’s lips on the more untouched parts of his body. It feels so intimate, the way Kurt’s lips softly press the path of the most obvious scar. Blaine shivers, hand fisting uselessly in the sheets. 

“Is this OK?” Kurt checks, voice low. “You’re trembling.”

“It’s OK. Better than OK. Good even,” Blaine babbles and Kurt grins down at him, head slightly cocked. 

“God, you’re gorgeous. I’m kind of feeling insane that I get to see you like this.”  

Blaine would agree but Kurt’s mouth is back on his body and all he manages is a groan. He throws a hand over his face. Heat spreads from every point of Kurt’s lips on him. His hips shift helplessly against nothing. The simmering arousal from making out, slightly quelled by his anxiety, roars back into life. Blaine reaches for Kurt, finds his hair, wraps his fingers through it. 

“So gorgeous,” Kurt repeats half like an assurance and  half like he just can't help himself. 

By the time he's finished mapping Blaine's scar and is making his way up Blaine's throat instead, Blaine barely knows what to do with himself. He's hard and aching. He's breathless and flushed and incoherent. He wants Kurt's body on him, wants to get at his bare skin, wants to devour him. 

Kurt's face meets him back at eye level and looks down at him. He looks flushed too, bright eyed with arousal and looking at Blaine's lips. He nuzzles their noses together and Blaine melts. He hooks an arm over Kurt's shoulders and pulls him close so Kurt is half on top of him and their foreheads are pressed together. 

"You're perfect," Kurt says, quiet into the space between them and Blaine didn't know how much he needed to hear it. 

"So are you." Blaine slides a hand under Kurt's shirt, trailing over warm skin. He wants to make Kurt feel the same as he does. Adored and content and stupidly horny. "Let me show you."

[puppyeared]

Custom linkeroo (using @gaylactic-fire cursed link generator ^^)

[hypewinter]

Ok so this is based on @cyrwrites prompt of Danny being Willis Todd. A very delicious angsty prompt btw. Especially @faeriekit additions. Chef's kiss. Anyway, that got my little gears turning and I thought up an alt version. What if Danny was Jason's grandpa?

Hear me out: Despite all the hardships of losing his family and identity, Danny still manages to get a wife and settle down. Then the GIW tracks him down again and while he's in the ghost zone taking care of a few things, they break into his house and kidnap his wife.

Danny goes ballistic and decimates all of their bases trying to find her but by the time he does, it's too late. She dies in his arms and there isn't enough ambient ectoplasm for her to become a ghost. This is the last straw for Danny and he retreats to the Infinite Realms, sealing all portals and summonings (perhaps he's starting down the path of becoming Dan).

Unbeknownst to Danny, his son got dumped off in an orphanage (he thought the baby died with his wife) and is named Willis. From here Willis can either be the way that he is because his core is not getting everything it needs and that's causing physical and mental side effects or he's just an asshole with secret ghostly powers. Either way, everything from there continues down the path of Jason's story.

Flashing forward, after taking an involuntary bath in ectoplasm, Jason's proto core gets activated. He was mainly human with no ambient ectoplasm around before so his core was inactive while his body did all the work. Now that it's active however, his body is slowly but surely giving his proto core all the functions it was meant to have. The problem with this is that his proto core is too weak and can't actually sustain these functions. For example, he'll randomly stop breathing but his core can't take over properly which leads to him suffocating instead until his lungs take back over. Fun times right?

Bruce is getting increasingly desperate so when Constantine mentions the ghost king might be able to help but they would have to go to him directly, he suits up and says lead the way.

For Danny's part, when he meets these three men, he is confused for two reasons. How did they even get here? And why is the youngest one putting out a feeling of family when he should have no one left?

[the-jam-to-the-unicorn]

Jam has an absolute shit day. (Like major catastrophe shit day.)

Jam sees a new chapter of "Compromised".

Jam sees it's cuteness.

Jam is now happier and the day is better.

[myfanfic-urfantrash]

Anyone want to go crazy with me for a second? I'm trying to figure out what to write.