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bee-wg · 1 month

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PROLOGUE:

Our family isn’t too big. Ever since my grandparents moved to their cottage by the lake, It's just been the three of us. I don't even bring my teammates or friends home. And all the peacefulness is about to change.

“Ahh Shit- Sorry!” the fumbling buffoon said.

“Language, sweetheart. David! Could you help him pick it up? I'm tidying up the kitchen,” My mom replied.

“Coming!” My dad sprints down the stairs.

“Oh, Pumpkin, you're all grown up! Are you prepared for the semester?” Dad gestured to the culinary tools scattered across the floor.

“Yes, of course. Sorry about the mess,” he replied. The “Pumpkin” in question is my cousin, Theo. He's about to attend a college in the city to study culinary arts… or something. And, of course, he’s sharing the room with me. Not for long, though. I have a few buddies who have invited me to share a room with them. They reek, but it's a necessary evil.

“Jay,” my dad asked, nudging me, “Remember when you guys used to play house together every summer?”

“Yes, then he bit me and we never talked again,” I deadpanned.

“Oh come on, he was just a kid,” Dad retorted.

No, he wasn't. He was a little demon that stole my pretend credit card. My hand still itches thinking about that vicious attack.

I put down Theo’s luggage and bit back the argument. “I'll go back to the car to see what’s left.”

“Alright bud, thanks for the help.”

“No problem.” He could probably thank me by asking what happened at football camp, but what do I know? It's not like we haven't talked about football the entire summer. We could be doing that right now, on the deck with some ice-cold beer. But the twinky little “Pumpkin” needs help, and I have the muscle for it.

God, I wish the summer was over already.

***

“Hahahaha Exactly! I have never seen Chloé like that before.” Dad laughed.

“Right? Who knew mom had sass in her.”

Mom's competitiveness was kicked off by Theo's presence. The kitchen has basically been a war zone for the past two weeks.

Looking down at my watch, the light flashes on.

6 kilometres down, 5 more to go.

It’s been a while since I’ve had a good morning run with Dad like this one. The ocean breeze flowing past my hair and the faint rays of sunrise brought back some old memories.

Regulating my breathing, we slowed down for a second.

“Damn, son - your stamina has gotten so much better this past year.”

“The football camp really made you put up 20 pounds of pure muscles too, I’m glad I recommended you there.” Dad beamed proudly at me.

“You’re not too bad yourself, for an aging old man.”

I still get the same rush every time he compliments me. It’s like a reassurance that I’m doing something right.

“Hahahaha, you won’t be saying that when you’re one foot in your 40s; it’s basically death by fossilization.”

Dad has always been modest with his body, but everyone who knows him either admires his body, wants him, or is jealous of him and I am the same. Ever since high school I’ve been inspired to be like him. Even with the 15 pounds of muscle I have over him, I’m still lacking in so many ways. He just has the confidence to own it.

“Want some water?”

“Oh, right, of course. Thanks.” I took over the ice-cold bottle.

“About that training camp, I should request the school board to have the team register next summer for the training course. High school kids these days don't care about sports as much no more.” Dad said

“Speaking of which, remember your friend Lancaster who got held back for two years?”

“Yeah, Avery. He used to scold me when I didn’t take the nutrition classes with him. Haven’t hung with him in a while though.”

“Well, he probably won’t scold anymore. The kid got too cocky after getting a full sports scholarship and gained 70 pounds of fat in the summer. The university probably revoked the funds. Hope he didn't take it too hard.”

“Shit, that’s awful. I didn’t expect it to be him out of anyone. He was a damn good receiver.”

We resumed the pace, avoiding some rogue cyclists on the way.

Crazy to think the weight could creep up on Avery Lancaster of all people. I should watch out for myself too. I have good genes from dad so it probably will never happen, but the new influx of delicious food from Theo and my mom’s little competition definitely doesn’t help. At least it keeps the brat out of my room.

“Dad, I think I’m not going to move in with Brad and the guys.”

“Why the sudden change of heart?”

“Well first of all, as much as I love them, the guys stinks. Second of all, Theo is not as much of a blood-sucking gremlin as he was before. And I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye to you guys.”

“Plus, How can I leave when the thing with mom just got interesting.”

“Staying for the family drama, huh?” He chuckled.

“We’re happy to have you for as long as you want, Jay. Truth be told, your mom has been crying about it for weeks. We’re both not ready to say goodbye too.”

“Tell you what, Chloe and Theo probably have some fancy lasagnas waiting for us back home; let's cut through the forest and head back early to celebrate.” He said, practically drooling.

“Lasagnas for breakfast?”

“Wait, You just want the Lasagnas. Don’t you?”

“Hahaha, Maybe.”

“Well, don’t get too drawn in, or you’ll end up as Hansel in the candy house.”

He laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world.

That would be funny to imagine though, cause Dad is anything but a glutton.

Chapter 1 ->

#male weight gain #exjock #fit to fat #male weight gain story

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olivyh · 2 years

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Does nobody in this house knock?

A/N: I've had this idea in mind for a while, and I've been on an Obey Me kick recently- I love these boys so much and they're so fun to write for (although consistently including six/seven people in one story is a bit of a challenge). This is supposed to be read as platonic but could go either way tbh. GN mc as always loves <3

Slight TW: For nudity (nothing serious really happens MC is just taking a bath and the brothers don't know what privacy is)

The House of Lamentation had its ups and downs- of course, the place was massive, which came with a plethora of spaces to crawl into if you wanted a moment of silence or needed a pretty room to study in. The kitchen was just as spacious- you were sure you couldn't use up all the counter space if you wanted to. The architecture was gorgeous and you could stare at the paintings that littered the halls all day (you wouldn't dare, though, after being told that some of them dislike the attention and could curse you if you stare for too long). Similarly, your room was one of your favorite spots in the house (along with Asmo's bathroom, which you were one of the lucky few to get the privilege of using when he wasn't having one of his frequent spa days. You also enjoyed wandering around the mansion (which, sadly, you were banned from doing after getting lost in one of the never-ending hallways and ending up deep underground, leading you to tearfully call Mammon and a house-wide scramble to find you before another one of Levi's rogue pets did).

The downs were, naturally, the lack of private time. Despite how big the house was, everywhere you went one of the brothers seemed to conveniently be heading in that same direction or even already in that room. Did you want a snack in the kitchen? Beel was three steps ahead of you, and already inviting you out to Madam Screams after he cleans out the fridge. Need to study in the library? Satan just so happened to be going there as well (did he not have enough in his room? You thought almost bitterly at the loss of your time). Wanted to nap in the planetarium? You trip over a passed-out Belphie (why was he sleeping in the doorway?) and end up with a bloody nose from the impact. Wanted to sit in the common room? Levi was already there, playing Devil Cart on what looked like the Devildom's version of a switch with Mammon. If you wanted to study at the dining room table, Asmo would find you and all but drag you to his room for an impromptu game of dress-up. You'd thought going to the eldest would at least leave you alone, opting to study in his office until he'd corrected you on your posture and the way your shirt was hanging loosely off one shoulder more than the other every time, occasionally asking you questions relating to your work and not-so-subtly correcting every wrong answer you'd made (even if you never fully finished the problem).

The brothers, however, knew that one time of the week was off limits- Saturday nights. You would often slip away and claim the shared bathroom for hours at a time, lighting candles and filling the bath until it was just high enough for you to soak up to your shoulders in. Of course, this was met with very little resistance (especially considering that all seven brothers somehow shared one bathroom with one toilet, which always baffled you. Though, you were certain that Lucifer had one of his own and was neglecting to let the others know). It never clashed with the nights Beel would come back from the gym in desperate need of a shower, or the nights Asmo would stumble back to the house covered in lipstick stains and reeking cheap perfume, or when Mammon would return covered head-to-toe in mud from walking Cerberus. You needed your time, you had told them. And they'd obliged. So, you'd set up a small routine to relax.

Which was exactly what you were doing. You slip out of your silk robe (gifted by Asmo, naturally) and take a step onto the stool. The shared bathtub was absolutely massive, and you had to shyly ask Lucifer if he had a stool you could use just so you didn't have to climb into the damned thing the first week here. At a distance, it looked normal until... you stepped closer and realized that it wasn't. Although, you supposed it made sense considering how large the brothers were, especially Beel. It was hard picturing him fitting into a normal-sized tub, especially remembering that he struggled to submerge himself fully in the one they already had. Chuckling to yourself, you gingerly lowered yourself into the warm water with a sigh as you feel the pressures of the day melt away into the bubbly water.

The candlelight is the only thing illuminating the room, and the soft sounds of the water splashing against the side of the tub is nearly enough to lull you to a soft sleep if you'd decided to give in to the temptation. The brothers seem to be quieter than usual as well tonight, as you would normally hear some kind of yelling while bathed in the silence of the bathroom. You gently kick your feet in the water and watch as the ripple shines in the gentle candlelight.

The water in the Devildom had shocked you with its opalescent gleam the first time you'd seen it, worried about drinking it. It had reminded you of the colorful outline left from oil slicks in puddles after it would rain. You were relieved to learn that it wasn't toxic, now basking in the slight glow that it gave your skin and the way it soothed any aches that you had.

It was the perfect night, but you'd regretted not grabbing a snack to keep with you, or a glass of Demonus to drink while you soaked (even though you wouldn't get drunk and it tasted more like a spicy grape juice, you still felt fancy).

"Oh my stars, hon, you would never guess what happened!" You're shaken out of your thoughts as Asmo's shrill voice rings through the open doorway He makes his way over to the bath, pulling up the chair that sat in the corner of the room and you try to hide your growing annoyance. He leans over the edge of the tub, teasing his fingers in the water and playing with the bubbles. "So I was at the Fall, right-"

"Asmo," You say, a quiet warning.

"And he really thought he could get away with trying to get between me and this other guy! Like, how dumb could you be? So anyways I turned to him and-"

"Asmo!" The demon pouts, folding his arms on the warm porcelain and resting his head on them, looking up at you through thick eyelashes. "I'm naked."

"I'm aware," He huffs, pursing his lips. "I've seen you bare before, love. Even if I hadn't, your body is not unappealing." He winks and you feel your face heat up. "So back to what I was saying-"

"MC!" Another shout and you groan, sinking deeper into the bath. "You're never gonna guess what I just did! I won the horse races! Highest bet, baby!" Mammon pumps his fist in the air as he beams, mussed hair likely from nervously running his hands through it.

"You're interrupting my story, you ass!" Asmo shouts.

"This is more important than your dumb story, drama queen!"

"Mammon!" You grumble. "Bathing?" He doesn't seem to hear you, though, as he continues to pace around the room, recalling every small detail about the race. His keychain clicks against the chains that loop from his belt, the clinking ringing through the room and grating on your nerves even more. Asmo continues to mindlessly play with the bubbles, even raising a soft hand to place a small crown of bubbles atop your head. You take it as a quiet apology from the demon.

"I finally finished the book you'd asked me about-" Satan, as perceptive as he is, seems to understand your harsh glare from within the bath as he walks confidently through the open door (courtesy of Mammon and his excited forgetfulness). "And I'm aware that this is your time but I simply could not wait another moment-" He sits beside Asmo, nearly pushing the smaller man off the chair. The latter gasps dramatically, rounded lips forming a harsh 'o' shape as he holds his hand over his heart, offended as ever.

"Hey! I wasn't done yet!" Mammon huffs, crossing his arms and glaring at his younger brother.

"You are now," He sneers before slipping open his book, reading through various notes and post-its he left buried within the pages. "Now, this scene in particular really stuck with me, and I'd very much like to hear your thoughts on it. It's when the protagonist-"

"Mc," Another quiet, almost apologetic voice from the doorway. Beel stands, nearly taking up the entire entrance, with armfuls of chips as he empties a bag into his mouth and tosses it into the trash near the sink. "I felt like you were hungry, so I got you something to eat," He holds out another bag and you take it, sighing as you fumble to open it and dig in.

"Thanks, big guy," He hums before sitting cross-legged on the floor beside a still dejected Mammon, offering the older a bag as well. You don't have it in you to be annoyed at the gentle giant, and you were getting a little hungry, after all.

"Anyways, back to my story-" Asmo begins, filling up the silence.

"I didn't finish either," The second born growls through a mouthful of chips.

"Finish eating, and Asmo, you were here first, you did your time and now it's my turn-" Satan shuts both of them down.

"I wanna tell them about practice-" Beel interjects, moving on to another bag of chips. "I did a really cool move where-"

"Mc!" Another familiar voice joins the fray. "SoIwaswatchingthatshowyoutoldmeaboutandIthoughtitwasreallycoolandthere's-" Levi takes a gasping breath before continuing. "Areallyreallyreallycoolshowcaseonitinthehumanworldcomingupandweshoulddefinitelygo-"

"Levi, sweetheart, please breathe." You remind him, sinking deeper into the bath until it's just your eyes and nose peeking out from the surface of the water, glad that it muffles the sound a bit.

"We should definitely go and wear matching costumes like the main characters and it'll be really cool and I already have an idea on how to make the props and it'll take a bit of time but we can definitely get it done in time and-"

"Ignore him," Satan sighs. "Anyways, I believe this scene is incredible I mean, did you see the wording in the second to last paragraph? It was so emotional I could hardly believe that he was faking it the whole time and-"

"My love, I never finished telling my story!" Asmo whines, pulling at your knee, which escaped from the water and is exposed to the chill of the air from when you sunk down further. "So then we ordered some Demonus, you know, as you do, and then this song starts playing and he comes back, so Solomon and I look at each other- you know that one look we share sometimes?- yes, that one, so we look at each other and then-"

"Hey, with all the money I just got, we should go shopping, yeah?" Somehow, Mammon had snuck around to the other side of the tub and started pacing on that side, grinning to himself. "I'll spoil ya rotten, I swear. Where do ya wanna hit first? We could go to Majolish, or we could hit that designer store up in the human world ya were tellin' me about-"

Beel continues to sit in silence, but his loud crunching is nearly deafening with all the noise the brothers are making, each of them unwilling to stop talking and wait their turn.

"Mc-" A yawn. "Here you are-" Belphie stumbles, half-awake (and you weren't even sure of that, with how limbs moved ragdoll-like and the way his eyes were still closed.) "...was looking... everywhere..." He cuts himself with a snore before he falls forward and his stomach collides with the side of the tub, flipping over and landing in the water with you.

"Belphie!" You shriek, fumbling to simultaneously get as far away from the still-sleeping demon as possible while trying to save him and while also trying to cover yourself from the eyes of the men in the room.

"You're naked?!" Mammon screams, backing away until his back hits the wall.

"HUH?!" You hear Levi wail before a thud sounds through the room and, if Satan's snort is any sign, you were sure he'd definitely just passed out and was lying unconscious on the cold tile of the bathroom.

"Of course they're naked!" Asmo hums. "Who bathes with clothes on?"

"I don't care! Someone get Belphie out right fucking now!" You scramble up the side of the tub, feeling the rough fabric of his cardigan as he surfaces for air, still asleep as he hugs you as close to him as possible, burying his face- or what little you could see of it, with how his soaked hair conceals practically the entire thing- in the crook of your neck and wrapping his legs around your own (you grimace at the feeling of his wet sweatpants against you). Beel comes to your rescue as he attempts to pry his twin's arms off of you and apologizing every time his hands brush your exposed skin. Embarrassment heats your face as you try to squirm away, shouting at Mammon to grab you a towel as more and more water sloshes out of the tub, effectively soaking the pages of Satan's book and smearing some of Asmo's makeup. The former lets out an annoyed grumble as he curses the seventh for falling in and causing a scene in the first place while the latter gasps and rushes towards the mirror to assess the damages done, complaining about how perfectly his makeup was done today and now he was going to have to start all over-

Mammon rushes forward, towel in his extended arm as he slips on the spilled water with a yelp and sends himself flying into the tub as well, landing on top of Beel, who was still attempting to pry Belphie off of you. Beel, shocked by the impact, drops Belphie back onto you and is sent forward by Mammon's weight. Mammon follows close second, leaving you with three demons now in the tub as you try to shove all three off of you. It's difficult for them, as Beel is face-down in the water, his face wedged between your stomach and Belphies, with his legs bent awkwardly out of the tub and Mammon wedged between you and the wall, hands unable to find purchase as he's contorted and squished- not to mention that Belphie's legs had attempted to wrap tighter around your own and had successfully trapped Mammon's arm against your thigh and his face against the space between your shoulder blades, as well as further squishing his twin's face between the two of you. Both your hands are occupied with getting their heads out of the water so they could at least breathe, with two fistfuls of ginger locks and snow-white ones.

"Everyone out, NOW!" Lucifer's voice rings from the doorway and the room is silent once more. The eldest grabs Beel's collar and pulls him out of the tub, with a grumbling Belphie following close behind (finally awake from the shouting). Mammon follows soon after, skirting out of the room without needing to be asked twice, not concerned in the slightest about how soaked his designer jacket was as you were sure he was going to explode from how red his face was. Asmo and Satan follow close behind, with the fourth-born grabbing a still-unconscious Levi by the ankle and dragging him out of the room. You sigh and sink into what little is left of the water, resting your head against the edge of the tub.

"Thank you," You sigh. "That was a nightmare."

"Of course," The firstborn stands still for a moment, clearing his throat. "While I am here, I recently received the scores from the exam that you had taken last week-"

"Lucifer," You glare at the man, eye twitching in annoyance. "Out."

He sighs, turning on his heel and striding out the door, closing it behind him with a click. Finally, in silence, you try to relax once more.

The pounding of your heart doesn't allow it, though.

Neither do the bruises on your stomach from Beel's hard-as-a-rock forehead, or on your ribs from when Mammon had elbowed you in an attempt to flee, or the scratch on your back from when Beel had tried to separate Belphie from you only to find that the youngest was going to fight tooth and nail to continue your impromptu cuddle session and dug his bitten nails into your skin.

You laugh bitterly- something caught between an annoyed growl and a sob- and slam your fist uselessly against the porcelain.

You were going to get them back for this.

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marleysfinest · 10 months

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cheeky sneaky choso smut drabble. choso x fem reader.

cw: begging, oral (female receiving), pet names (sweetheart, baby)

w/c 500. not proofread!

I just think choso is so damn needy.

the second he gets a taste of how good it can feel to love someone and be loved, he's hooked. absolutely addicted like a man possessed. the first time he lets you run a hand through his hair, his eyes droop closed as the shivers ripple down his spine, feeling something he's never felt before, but struck by what was almost instinct.

choso allows you to reposition him so that he's sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of you, flanked on either side by your legs as you perch on the edge of the couch, massaging his scalp with the tips of your fingers. it takes everything he has not to practically purr beneath your touch, and he's successful for the most part, ignoring the rogue, quiet groan that slips out. when your hands travel down the back of his neck and begin massaging his shoulders, you immediately notice the way that they drop. thinking that you've done something wrong, you stop, but his head immediately whips around, revealing his doe-eyed expression.

"why'd you stop?"

the way he says it is almost a whine, a high-pitched plead to continue as he reels from no longer feeling your touch. you sit back and pout - with a smile - as you gaze down at his pained expression. you shrug your shoulders, deliberately playing the teasing game with him, and watch with glee as he turns around to face you, planting a palm on each of your knees as he does so. he wastes no time in running them up your thighs as he peppers kisses wherever he can.

"c'mon," he mutters, "please, for me?"

you remain silent and continue to feign ignorance, enjoying the way choso manages his withdrawals. if you didn't know any better, you'd swear he was about to burst into tears. he slips his hands beneath your dressing gown as he slowly pushes himself to his knees, reaching around to the meat of your ass while his kisses reach the insides of your thighs. your head lolls back as he tries to pull you towards him, and you're no longer in a position to deny him. your hands find your way back to his hair as he approaches your already wet cunt, and the way he feels your nails tangle in amongst the jet-black strands pushes him beyond reasonable thought. you gently guide him to where you need him most, and while he might’ve wanted to give you a taste of your own medicine and stay himself a while longer, he just can’t resist. you’re just too sweet.

he languidly laps at your clit, already drunk on your taste and just how wet you are. his grip on you is firm, as is yours on him, keeping him pinned between your legs, although he could break free if he really wanted to. his hair tickles the inside of your thighs, adding to the dizzying sensations. the way your breathing turns heavy, rapidly followed by moans of “cho-so” has his judgement clouded and vision impaired. all that matters to him right now? you.

before long he can no longer ignore his cock throbbing against the inside of his sweats, and is past feeling embarrassed at the patch of pre-cum that has soaked through. he pulls away before you cum, bringing you to his level of desperation. when you fail to release your grip on his hair, that doe-eyed expression returns.

“please,” he says breathlessly, “please, sweetheart, can I fuck you?”

and who are you to deny him, when he’s made your cunt so wet and welcoming?

divider/banner credit u/cafekitsune

#I need him in a way that is concerning to feminism I’m sorry #choso baby let me brush your hair I beg!!!!!#choso nation let’s get it!!!!#choso kamo #choso #choso x reader #choso x y/n #choso smut

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creepling · 7 months

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˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ dating digger harkness headcanons

this is a very specific reader because i love the idea of this grimy hobo having a cute, smart girly partner that is the candy floss to his raccoon energy OKAYYY. also tcm shenanigans will be back shortly, i just had to give some love to a dc rogue like the old times<33

tags: feminine reader (wears dress, skirt, heels, mild makeup and has breasts and v) but gn pronouns. sugar daddy digger if you squint. reader is a jailbird. cuddling. pet name: birdie. smut under the cut - minors dni. polaroid nudes. (m) masturbation. thoughts of: oral (m receiving) and cowgirl.

If you were to ask Digger the first thing he noticed about you, his caveman mind would be objectifying. But your ass did look very flattering in your skirt and the smile you shot his way was the cherry on top. He likes them sweet and innocent, you like them rugged and dangerous. It was a match made in hell heaven.

After a few dates spent in dingy pubs and lover’s lanes, he was enamoured by you. He’s never had someone look at him the way you do. Eyes full of light, glistening at the sight of him. You always welcomed him with open arms, practically throwing yourself at him. He liked how easy you were to pick up, and the way you wrapped your limbs around him. How your soft skin blushes red against his scruffy neck. No matter the setting, you sat so close to him that you were more or less on his lap. He wraps his arms around you, or has a hand on your thigh, letting nearby acquaintances know you belong together. Digger thinks to himself, “I got so fucking lucky.”

His love languages are primarily gift-giving and physical touch. More times than you can count, Digger has fallen asleep on top of you. Either on the couch, while watching a movie or he found a way to snake between your legs while sleeping, he has a habit of using you like a pillow. You developed a kinship in moments like this where you play with his hair, massaging your fingers into the nape of his neck or twirling the strands that curtain his temples. You muse at his sleep-full hums, watching this rogue unwind under your touch, satisfied like a dog receiving pets. The gift-giving is when his rogue side is on high voltage. He wants to give you the world, shower you with jewels, let you wear the best of gear. “You want diamonds? Yeah, I’ll get you diamonds,” He’ll muse, mixing his pleasures with yours. When he robs a bank, the majority of his stolen dollars has been spent on you since you met him. Did your car get towed? He bought you a new one, along with the insurance. Need a new dress for the weekend? He’s got you sorted, along with heels and a bag to match. “Can’t have my bird in peasant clothes!” He protests, “Not with that cracken’ bod.” Queue the wink.

He loves showing you off, chuffed that he proved his doubters wrong that he could settle down and have a gorgeous significant other. “What they see in you, I don’t know . . .” They say, whether that be Deadshot, King Shark, heck even Amanda is amazed by it. He keeps candid polaroids of you in his pocket on the job, looking at them when he misses you. He squeezes the unicorn plushie you gifted him when he is stressed, anything to feel your presence when you’re half the world away. A shit-eating grin on his face when people tease him about his love for you, using it to embarrass him. “Awh, it’s puppy love,” Harley cooes, and Digger nods, all chuffed with himself.

Digger gave you the nickname “Birdie” because well . . . You’re a jailbird. He is in prison for heinous crimes, after all! Oh, is he touched-starved when you’re standing there, pretty face to the phone, separated by glass and talking in your voice that melts him like butter. His eyes are eating you up, desperate to have his hands on you. He’ll do all the suicide missions going to shred off the jail time, to get closer to the day his lips are kissing yours. Blackmailing Amanda to get you the best of the best, pay off college debt, holidays abroad, and spoil you when he cannot. “Oh, Birdie, when I get out of here I’m not letting you out of my sight, you’re stuck with me.” He groans, drunk on love. All you do is smile, sliding a pack of Polaroids under the screen when the guards aren’t looking. “Have these to tide you over in the meantime,” you tease. Digger rushes back to his cell, flipping through the photos. First were of you in dresses that were his favourites, the type of ones that are flowy and floral, framing you so delicately. They get more desirable as he flips them over, and his eyes lull in lust.

Digger loves the dirty photos you send him, it drives him fucking insane. It’s good to keep you fresh in his mind, but it borders on teasing just having you to look at. He didn’t have the brightest imagination, but this was good practice. Imagine how soft your thighs are under his callous hands, what your lips taste like with the lipgloss you have on. Your delicate hands trace his bulge, your touch replacing his heavy-handed grasp. Bucking into your hands as he sucks your breasts, teasing your nipples, muttering how perfect you are. His sweet little birdie, all belonging to him. Your eagerness proves your devotion. You take his infamous size so well, your spit coating his cock as your tongue swirls around his pulsing tip. As he wanks himself off, muffling his groans, he has the faintest memory of your cunt. How wet you always were for him, how eager you bounced on his cock. His eyes closed as he pumped his cock faster, edging to the echoes of past moans you chanted in his ear.

#digger harkness x reader #captain boomerang x reader #ssktjl #ktjl #kill the justice league #arkhamverse #fanfic #smut

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brucewaynehater101 · 4 months

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I have a spooky Tim au that I think you would like.

Tim is not human and has never been. He knows this. His "parents" know this. The rouges know this. However, none of the Bats but one know this. When around the Bats, Tim looks like a Normal Human. His skin is pale but does look like flesh and his eyes are weirdly pale but they still look like eyes. His hair has a weird texture but its prob just his shampoo, so surely the slightly off texture in how his skin feels is just his lotion, right? His teeth are a bit sharp but still human teeth and his movements a bit odd, but what Bat doesn't move strangely?

However when they aren't around, it is a totally different story. His skin changes to look like porcelain and his eyes are so very clearly made of painted glass. His hair is made of string and twine died black and when its fist or foot lands a blow it feels like being hit by a sand bag and not flesh and bone. His teeth are made of shards of broken glass and his movements are far to Jerry yet smooth, like a puppet on strings that glides through the air in a horrible mimicry of walking. This Thing that wears the Robin Suit is Not a human, as long as it isn't around Batman or Nightwing. When either are there, The Rouges can see the shift. The way it suddenly looks so *human*. But once Batman leaves it shifts back into being a *thing*.

Tim is only a Thing when he is either scaring the rouges or Truly Comfortable. Young Justice knows that Tim is not a human and he doesn't hide it from them. There is never any fight about his civilian identity because he freely tells them, "I am a Thing made from Glass and Sand and Fabric and Magic. He is not a Person nor has he ever Been A Person. He is not some poor sap who was transformed into a Thing, he is a Thing that was created and then given life with Magic.

As for how Jack and Janet acquired a Thing like Tim, well. They're archeologists. They dug up an old tomb, found a coffin that was chained closed and bolted to the ground and like every White Person In A Horror Movie, they opened it without a second thought. Inside they found an ancient, cursed doll. It came to life when Janet cut herself trying to clean off one of its broken glass eyes to get a better look and the blood fell on it. The pair then decided this was a lot easier than child birth and kept the cursed doll, naming it Tim.

My gods. I love the ending of this cause it gives off the same vibes as "humans will adopt anything" tropes in space travel fiction.

I have one caveat with the Bats not knowing. I hc that Cass knows. Tim's body language is too strange for her not to notice something.

Everything else? Beautiful. It would be hilarious if people keep trying to tell the Bats. Here's a possible scene:

Goon: *points finger at Tim* "That thing beside you isn't human!"

Tim: *fakes having his shoulders drop as he turns slightly away in dejection*

Dick: *absolute fury as he beats up the goon*

Tim: *decides not to get revenge after seeing what Nightwing does to the person*

Rogue: "I'm telling ya, whatever he is got string hair, porcelain skin, and doll like movements to him."

Batman: *hums, takes them out, proceeds to Batcave*

Tim: "What's up, B?"

Bruce: "[] said that you look different when we're not around you."

Tim: *tilts his head* "I mean, I like playing up the rumors that the Bats are cryptids, demons from hell, spirits, or whatever when I can. I add effects to my costume to increase the spook factor."

Bruce: *nods and turns away to end the conversation for now*

Tim: *makes plots to ruin that rogue's life for a bit as revenge and a message*

I'm curious how wounds and scars look on Tim's porcelain skin. How does he heal? Does he even have a spleen?

I'm also down for two avenues:

Jason doesn't know like the rest of the Bats. After they start to become close to each other, Jason retaliates against folk who try to demean Tim. He tries to hide the comments from Tim until he learns that the teen finds it funny and ramps up the rumors on purpose. Then he switches to pulling pranks on people with Tim to create more wild theories and gossip.

Jason finds out at TT, and Tim ensures no one actually believes Jason. Perhaps he even starts the notion that Jason was affected by the Pit. It drives Jason bonkers that no one is trusting him or accepting his words for what they are.

#dc comics #tim drake #dc universe #thank you for the ask!!!!#dc au #dick grayson #bruce wayne #jason todd

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wings-of-ink · 2 months

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Future IFs Poll

So, in case you have not seen me post about it before, I am considering a project to do on the side while I work on God-Cursed. This will help me take breaks from my main work and stretch my creativity muscles with different characters and settings. I'd like a bit of feedback from what readers are more interested in from the best ideas I can potentially pull from right now. Feel free to vote, comment, or even send an ask if you want to be anonymous.

Over the last year or so, I have jotted down many basic plots I could expound on, but only a few have really stuck out to me as ones I could really expand in a meaningful way.

So, a couple housekeeping things to keep in mind. Whatever ends up getting written, it will have a modern-day setting. The fantasy playground is fun, but I really want a more real-world setting for this one. I am also debating about all ROs being gender-selectable. Since this side piece is supposed to be a little oasis for me too, not having each RO as customizable would ease the work that goes into it, and it might actually mean I can have more than just a few options for you as well. I am also considering a middle ground and having one or two characters customizable still while the others will be set.

Below I have given some details on the ideas I'm working with and further down is a poll that you can vote for the one that calls out to you the most. I have 2 ideas so far that are standouts among the others, but I've included 4 in the poll that I can work with. The winner isn't guaranteed to be what I end up writing, but I am very strongly going to consider the results while I decide. I like all these ideas and they sound fun to write - so none of this telling me to write what I want - I already want to do them all, lol (looking at you @elegantunknownphantom). There are caveats to each one, of course, and I'll explain that in the details.

Options:

Serial-killer crime drama: "Daddy was a Killer" (title sounds like it came from a Lifetime original movie, but I really like it)

No doting daddies here, readers. Play as the traumatized child of a serial killer with repressed memories of the horrible things they witnessed daddy do. Get accused of a murder you didn't commit (probably), and try to catch your darling dad while dealing with the psychological devastation of all the horrors you've seen before he can kill again (and again, and again). Discover where your daddy disappeared to all those years ago, and what really happened to your mom.

Downsides: I have a decent grasp of the plot on this one, but it would require a good deal of research (which I tend to do anyway to an extent), since I'd like a fairly realistic feel to the actual crime-solving stuff. Either that, or I can go the "rogue detective" route and play it fast and loose. This work would be in a wheelhouse I've never quite been in before, which is fun on one hand but nerve-wracking on another.

RO ideas include:

A smarmy detective (of course!)

A neighbor concerned for your well-being (mostly because you scream in your sleep)

And the child of one of your daddy's victims.

Supernatural mystery: "Shivers" (title up for adjustment, but I kinda dig it)

Play as an MC with a bizarre anxious tic - an intense and chilling shiver that you get seemingly out of nowhere. It only lasts a couple seconds and you've dealt with it since childhood, so it's easily dismissed. That is, until you experience a sudden surge in occurrences. Your doctor writes it off as stress from dealing with the erratic behavior of your mother. But after a near-death experience, during which this mysterious tic guides you to safety, you know there is more to it than stress. With the help of your best friend(s) and a shady medium, find out what has attached itself to you and what seeks to claim you, discover who your real father is, and embrace or deny your own strengths as a medium.

Downsides: I feel like there's a lot of supernatural IFs already, some of which are already similar to this or have similar aspects. This one probably won't have the drama/emotional potential that some of the others do, which may be a boon to some readers as it would be a little lighter.

RO ideas include:

the best friend(s) (potentially 2 besties to choose from - twins)

a (mostly) fake spiritual medium

a brave EMT who came to your rescue

and something…otherworldly.

Gritty Drama: no title (more of a framework to build from)

This one would be completely riddled with warnings, and I kinda just see it as being a fun outlet for some angst, smut, unhinged shit, and violence. 👍

The ideas for this one didn't start around a firm plot, but around a setting/scenario stemming from one of my OCs. The vibe here is very much "sex, drugs, and rock 'n' roll" and fits into the seedy nightclub/crime ring thing. It would be a playground of questionable characters and life-choices. You would choose the dire straits that put your MC in the employ of a dangerous kingpin. Perhaps MC owes a lot of money to someone, got into trouble with a rival faction, or was framed for a crime, etc.... You'd get to choose the MC's line of work under the organization - be it in drugs, entertainment (music/dance/alcohol/sex), or security. The issue that leads to your employ under a sex-peddling drug-trafficker will haunt you in your new life in the middle of a war between the rulers of the underground.

Downsides: Not super fleshed-out plot wise, but I don't think it would be too hard to build on either. I may want to use this setting (or something like it) and my OC for a different project one of these days, but I'm unsure about that as well. And, the obvious, red flags and triggers everywhere for a setting like this.

RO ideas:

One person from each potential "job" (the head of security, a chemist who seems too pure to be making hard drugs, a sex-worker, the clumsy bartender, a cute DJ)

A member of a rival faction

And for the brave and stupid - your boss - a clever and unhinged woman with an affinity for knives. And, no, she will never love you.

Futuristic: no title (needs the most work)

Including this one to just get a feel for how it's received, but I anticipate that it won't get quite as much backing as the others. I have the character-creation concept in mind which lends itself to a plot, and a RO or two, but that's about it. I think I could do something fun with it, but I've also never written anything futuristic or scifi before. This would be akin to "Detroit: Become Human."

Though the setting would be futuristic, I am pretty sure I wouldn't want to do a dystopian thing. There's a lot of that out there already and we're basically living it IRL; it's a blast to read, but I want the main focus to be on something else if I do this. There would still be pockets of grittiness to the setting, because if we're talking humanity, there's gonna be grit somewhere. But this world would be more post-dystopian. Say, the rebels won and life has gotten better across the board for people? And though everyday life has a lot of tech enhancements, we haven't seen sentient machines - yet. That's where you come in.

The MC Concept is that they are an android - of course! One of the nice made-to-order kind that only the rich can afford. But what makes the MC unique is that while everyone else requests specific things about the androids they purchase - such as gender, looks and even downloadable personalities - an order comes in that's blank. It only requests that the android be allowed to choose who they are and how they look. "The Buyer" will pay for whatever personality, enhancements, or clothing they want - but the android must make the choices themselves.

As your MC goes through these initial choices, equipped only with a basic "education" software full of un-opinionated information about the world and how it works, something unusual begins to spark within them (not that they know how unusual it is yet).

RO ideas:

The Buyer–a gender-selectable person who sets your creation in motion. They're wealthy, well-respected, earnest, and incredibly lonely. Who are they really and why did they do this?

The Scientist–a hopefully trustworthy person that's very interested in your development

The Punk–someone who wants to give you the "real" human experience.

Make your selection below. Comment your thoughts and ideas as well if you like. This is set for a week and I will reblog here and there so it has a chance to reach as many of you who would like to vote as possible.

#twine if #if wip #twine wip #interactive novel #if game #interactive fiction #amare game #amare #choose your own adventure #cyoa #cyoa game #cyoa poll #tumblr polls #polls #if poll

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luxaofhesperides · 10 months

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Surprise husbands + "How are you real?" ; requested by @vehan-tikkun-olam-and-stuff!

They may not have planned to get married, or even wanted it all too much at the beginning, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t going to treat each other right. It was rough going, with both of them coming out of relationships and having secret identities, but time had softened the hurt feelings and allowed them to actually get to know each other.

And Danny, Duke has discovered, is a really good husband.

Neither of them ever saw themselves as married at 20, but sometimes life throws horrible curses at you and the embodiment of balance and life and death swoops in to save your life. Via marriage.

His life is weird, okay? Duke has made his peace with it.

The thing is, if they had met naturally and started off as friends, Duke could see himself falling for Danny and asking him to marry him in a far off future. Instead, they’re doing everything backwards: married, then going on dates to know each other, and finally feeling close enough to be friends.

It helps that Danny does his best to communicate and that helps Duke find the words he needs as well.

He’s sweet, too, so kind and doting and affectionate. Like a really lovable cat, honestly. Duke’s never been cuddled so much in his life and he’s loving every minute of it.

He… might be falling in love with his husband. What a revelation.

“Duke?”

He blinks, looking up from his half-empty plate, pulled out of his thoughts suddenly. Tim and Dick stare at him, concerned, and he realizes he’s missed the entire conversation because he was so preoccupied thinking about Danny. In his defense, it was their one year anniversary the night before and Danny had kissed him for the first time after a date night spent playing video games and talking shit about their respective rogues.

Tim snaps a finger in front of his face, and Duke startles. He got distracted by his Danny Thoughts again.

“Yeah, what’s up?”

“You okay? You’ve been out of it all day,” Dick says, clearly concerned.

“Oh, uh, yeah, it’s all good. Just… adjusting.”

“To what? Did something happen?”

Duke shrugs, scooping up another forkful of pasta to shove in his mouth. “Yeah, I… this is going to sound kind of stupid, but I think I’m in love with my husband.”

Tim, taking an ill-timed drink, chokes and spits out his Zesti. Dick springs back, trying to get out of the spray zone but doesn’t move far, shocked still by Duke’s words.

“Oh, yeah,” Duke realizes, “I didn’t tell you guys, did I?”

“You’re married?!” Tim shrieks as Dick clutches at his chest, eyes wide.

“You didn’t tell me?” Dick asks, offended.

“Seriously? That’s what you focus on?”

Duke smiles as they begin to bicker. They do it constantly, but this time it’s halfhearted, as if they’re just going through the motions of something familiar to distract themselves from the bomb he’s dropped on them.

In all fairness, Duke did forget that he didn’t tell them that he’s married to Danny. He’s also only mentioned Danny once or twice and heavily implied that Danny was just a classmate at GCU. And then forgot that he didn’t tell them, assuming that they’d figure it out eventually being Batman trained detectives, after all.

Well.

Oops.

Clearly that is not the case. Duke hurries to finish his pasta before Tim and Dick finish their joint freak out and get their senses back together enough to interrogate him. He can’t escape it, but he refuses to have this discussion with an empty stomach.

He just barely manages to scrape the last mouthful off the plate when his fork is being yanked out of his hands. Tim and Dick close in on him, standing to either side of him, trapping him in place, and look at him with knife-sharp smiles.

Here we go, Duke thinks tiredly, and resigns himself to clearing up this misunderstanding.

Somehow, he manages to explain the situation (I got cursed, he saved my life, we ended up married because magic is bullshit, he treats me so well) and Tim and Dick both agree to not hunt down Danny to show him the wrath of older brothers on one condition: Danny has to join them for a family dinner.

“Don’t worry, we’ll catch everyone up on your… situation,” Dick says, pulling on his jacket to head out. Tim is already on his phone, no doubt telling someone already.

“Great,” Duke says, unenthused. “You’ll also be answering all the questions because I’m not in the mood. So if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to figure out a day that works for all of us, and then I’m going to kick my husband’s ass in Mario Cart.”

He walks out the door, grinning as he hears them scramble after him, then twists the ring on his finger (not a wedding ring, but a magic portal making gift) and steps into the portal. It closes quietly behind him, leaving him in Danny’s lair, a comfortable, spacious house with high ceilings and little bits of his personality scattered about. There are soft rugs with geometric patterns on them, star maps on the wall, stained glass windows that throw colors across the floor, and a giant couch and pillow pit in the living room.

Danny’s asleep in it, curled up and looking completely at peace. Duke toes off his shoes and carefully makes his way over, footsteps silent so he doesn’t wake him up, all plans of Mario Cart fading away instantly.

Danny doesn’t get much sleep, with the stress of school and an internship and ghost fights to worry about. It’s why his lair is so quiet and comfortable; it’s what he needs, and he doesn’t let anyone else in without invitation, rare as it is.

Duke is allowed to waltz right in thanks to the ring Danny gave him. It never stops making him feel overwhelmed by how much trust Danny puts in him to allow him unlimited access to what is his only true sanctuary, letting his lair be a place of safety and respite for Duke as well.

He crawls into the pillow pit, There’s no way to do this without waking Danny up since he can’t fly, so he isn’t surprised to see Danny blink his eyes open, still looking soft and content. He smiles when he sees Duke, reaching a hand out to him that Duke gladly takes, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss his palm.

Sitting up, Danny tilts his head up in a silent request. Duke happily obliges, still reeling over the fact that he’s allowed to do this! He can kiss his husband whenever he wants!

Yeah, he’s going to be riding that high for a while.

“Hey,” Danny murmurs, sleepy and quietly pleased to see him.

“Hi honey,” Duke returns fondly, “Have a nice nap?”

Danny nods, leaning into Duke and closing his eyes again. “Mhm. How long are you staying? I wanna cuddle.”

“I got nothing going on today. I’m all yours, baby.”

“C’mon,” Danny tries to tug him down. Duke goes slowly, covering Danny’s body with his own, but holds himself with one hand before he blankets his husband completely.

“Wait. There’s something we need to talk about.”

Immediately, the sleepy haze is fading from Danny’s eyes, leaving him alert. “What’s up? Is something wrong?”

“Not really? You know how we agreed to keep our marriage a secret until we weren’t in danger anymore and all those cultists and sorcerers were taken care of?”

“...Yes?”

“Well.” Duke sucks in a breath and offers a bashful smile. “Guess who forgot to tell people we were married after that whole mess was dealt with?”

The nervousness clears from Danny’s gaze as he stares up at Duke with incredulous amusement. “No. No way.”

“Yeah. Kinda dropped a bomb on them and they started freaking out over me being married. Anyways, they want you to come to dinner?”

“When?”

Duke leans back, sitting on his heels. “Let me check.” He pulls out his phone and sends a quick text to the group chat asking for a day they could have a family meal to meet his husband.

His phone is bombarded with texts and calls immediately until Barbara, bless her entire soul, forcibly mutes all of them and puts in a poll with a few dates, setting the poll to close in 24 hours.

“Okay, well, they’re deciding now, but probably soon.”

Danny nods. “Alright. I know these aren’t normal circumstances at all, but I’m so excited to meet the Bats.”

“You do not mean that after hearing all my stories about them.”

“No, I do!” Danny laughs, surging up to wrap his arms around Duke and pull him back down to lay among the giant pillows with him. “They sound nice!”

“The Bats sound nice?!” Duke repeats in horror. “Did you hit your head?”

“They do sound nice! You talk about them so fondly, and yeah they have problems and are dysfunctional, but they’re heroes. Of course they have problems. Even with all their baggage, they’re kind. And you clearly love them, so I do too.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to hug Danny tight enough to make him squeak while peppering his face with kisses, so Duke doesn’t. He just goes and does it, because he’s allowed to shower his husband (!) with affection (!!!) as much as he pleases.

“How are you real?” he says against the corner of Danny’s lips. “How are you so perfect! To me specifically! Honey, if we weren’t already married, I’d be going down on one knee right now.”

“I mean, you still can. We never got a proper wedding either. Think if we offer them a chance to help plan our wedding, they’ll forgive us for secretly being married for so long?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Duke says. He’s already giddy, just imagining what their wedding will look like, what song they’ll play for their first dance, where they’ll have the ceremony… He should create a Pinterest account to start putting ideas together.

Later, though. He wants to woo Danny properly and take him on so many dates.

Dates which include dinner with the Waynes and Wayne-adjacents, apparently.

“You sure you’re okay with meeting them over dinner?” he asks, just to be sure. He knows how intense they can be, even when pretending to be normal civilians. It took him years to get used to them, himself, and he doesn’t want to push Danny into doing something he’s not ready to do.

Danny cups Duke’s face in his hands and gives him a quick, reassuring kiss. “I’m sure. If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how long it takes for them to realize I’m not fully human.”

“I really am glad it’s you.”

“Yeah, me too. I’d choose you all over again if given the choice.”

“Took the words right out of my mouth,” Duke laughs, wrapping an arm around Danny’s waist.

“Can we nap now? Now that you’re here and holding me, it’s taking everything I’ve got to stay awake.”

“Yeah, we can nap now.” Duke settles into the pillows, Danny cradled in his arms and closes his eyes to bask in the quiet easiness of it all.

He really couldn’t ask for a better husband, unexpected as he was. The others will see that too, once they meet him. It’s impossible to not love Danny once you meet him; Duke knows this all too well.

He loves his husband.

And his husband loves him back.

Duke is fully prepared to keep making that choice for the rest of his life.

#ghostlights #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp fic #dp x dc fanfic #prompt fill #my writing #it was such a struggle to keep this one short but i WILL do it. it will stay below 3k words. i promised myself this #wasnt too sure what the surprise husbands trope was so i winged it lol. i hope you enjoy reading this anyways!!#its all about choosing love and choosing each other and taking care of each other in a bad situation #turning it into something good and soft and kind bc neither of u want to hurt each other and its nice to have someone always by ur side #its abt choosing each other every day!!#these two are out here speed running love while doing it backwards. icons.#thanks for the prompt!!

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mxtxfanatic · 6 months

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Just saw someone make a post about how Hanguang-jun was “beefing” with a child (Jin Ling), and while the response I saw to it was fantastic—pointing out how Jin Ling was a spoiled brat who was constantly, knowingly putting others in danger and Lan Wangji served as one of the first adults in his life (the other being Wei Wuxian) who actually disciplined him for his unruly actions in order to teach him to be a better person—it made me think of something I never really took notice of: Jin Ling is afraid of other adults.

Now, obviously Jin Ling isn’t afraid of all adults. He’s unhesitant about bossing around the adult Jiang disciples when his uncle isn’t around. He treats “Mo Xuanyu” very disrespectfully until Wei Wuxian puts him in his place. He’s fine with yelling back at the adult rogue cultivators whose lives he’s endangered. But he reacts to Hanguang-jun as if Lan Wangji is going to kill him (or Fairy) for stepping out of line. Why? There are two reasons for this: 1) Jin Ling is afraid of adults that his uncles will not protect him from and 2) because he has not had any positive examples of care or discipline in his life, discipline, in his mind, carries an inherent threat of violence.

Let’s discuss point one. Outside of Lan Wangji, every adult listed above has been successfully suppressed by either Jiang Cheng or Jin Guangyao, Jin Ling’s uncles. The Jiang disciples are under Jiang Cheng’s control. The rogue cultivators are cowed by the threat of Jiang Cheng’s Zidian. Mo Xuanyu has been expelled by Jin Guangyao with the full weight of the Jin Clan behind him. So Jin Ling, the nephew who they allow to run wild, has nothing to fear by disrespecting them. However, Lan Wangji does not fall into this category. Lan Wangji is the younger brother of Jin Guangyao’s sworn brother, and as the uncle who does not step in to protect Jin Ling from violence, Jin Ling is well aware that Jin Guangyao would likely not side with him if he crossed Lan Wangji. At most, he would play peacemaker, as he does to discourage Jiang Cheng from reprimanding Jin Ling in his presence. This only works for individuals who care about reputation, though, and Lan Wangji is no such individual. That leaves Jiang Cheng as the only one who could potentially suppress Lan Wangji, but immediately upon confrontation, Jiang Cheng backs down from conflict and instead chooses to throw Jin Ling under the bus, probably for the first time in the child’s life. Neither of his powerful uncles will defend him against this adult, and this adult, himself, is unafraid to run afoul of Jin Ling. This, then, leads to the second point.

Jin Ling has only known violence as a form of discipline. It is notable that neither of Jin Ling’s uncles discipline him when he is in the wrong for his actions: Jin Guangyao coaxes Jin Ling while deflecting criticism while Jiang Cheng encourages Jin Ling’s bad behavior…except when directed at himself. Thus, let’s remove Jin Guangyao from this “discipline” conversation. What does Jin Ling know of Jiang Cheng’s discipline methods? Well, he whips first and asks questions later. He belittles Jin Ling with verbal abuse and resorts to physical violence against his nephew when under stress. He runs his sect with such an iron fist that his disciples are afraid to tell him things he does not like. Jin Ling has never known him to be anything but cruel and cold. And if we take into account how both the Jin and Jiang clans treat outsiders, we see that most situations of disagreement or discontent end in violence, with the Jiang and Jin as the ultimate victors. Therefore, with these stunning examples of “discipline” from his childhood guardians and their clans, it is no wonder that Jin Ling fears what being “disciplined” entails from the hands of an adult that neither of his uncles will fight for him against.

It is perfectly reasonable—in the most tragic of ways—that Hanguang-jun terrifies him at the beginning if the story. This is why the introduction of Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian into his life was imperative: Jin Ling got to learn that discipline—be it criticisms or reprimands—is not inherently violent and thus was made safe enough by his two unlikely mentors to listen to them in order to transform into the better person he is by the end of the novel.

#mdzs #human metas mxtx #it always struck me that jin ling’s immediate thought #to getting caught by hgj allowing fairy to run around biting people #was ‘he’s gonna kill my dog’#not ‘he’s gonna tell me off’ or ‘he’s gonna tell my uncle(s)’#but ‘he *is* gonna kill my dog’#with full confidence that this is just a thing that normal adults do to people who annoy them #absolute red flag for that kid’s entire childhood #example 18374728474 that jin ling’s childhood was abusive

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fangsandfeels · 1 year

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I think about protective Astarion a lot:

I strongly support the idea that he is Tav's protector as much as Tav is his. He is more closed about discussing his concerns with others - even on happily concluding the romance, he maintains his coy behavior and rebuffs all attempts at prying. But as always, there is a lot going on under the layers.

- I believe he stops seeing Tav as his protector/meatshield even a bit prior to the confession. He has always been more comfortable with “I’ll watch your back if you watch mine” arrangement, but he only fully embraces it after either Tav takes his side in his argument with Araj or helps him murder the orthon and learn more about his scars. Before that, he still subconsciously relies on Tav for safety to the point of rationalizing the necessity to do what he doesn’t want to do just because Tav told him to.

- His best and usual protective side is that he is always there to catch Tav when they fall. To drag them to safety, help them get up, and keep them going. He is there to talk and hear them out when something is weighing down on them. He drops all this flamboyant flirtatiousness he wears when discussing his relationship with others the very instant Tav needs him. He is calm, firm, and attentive because Tav needs him. Being strong for someone else is a very new feeling for him, but it also comes naturally. He doesn't like seeing his partner in pain, but finding himself as someone's source of strength and support is life-changing for him. He likes to realize that he is capable of caring about someone. That part of him is still alive. Like no other, Astarion knows that sometimes you can’t slay all the monsters and terrors that haunt your loved one, but you can be there for them when they fight their own battles. And that’s what he does. His approach is similar to Karlach’s in that regard: if you can’t walk, I’ll carry you, if you need a hand, you have mine, you you need to talk, my ears are all yours.

- After he stops seeing Tav as a protector, he is much more aware of Tav’s vulnerability. Tav isn’t invincible. Tav gets hurt. Tav can be in danger. It becomes particularly glaring when it’s revealed that they all haven’t turned yet because a rogue illithid holds their lives in its webbed hands. A rogue illithid who was lying about a cure all this time. Who never had any intention of removing the tadpole. Who saw ceremorphosis as something good. The Emperor has almost the same hold on Tav and all of them as Cazador on his spawns. It would have puppeteered them into doing its bidding hadn’t it been spending its energy on resisting the brain. This is why Astarion calls Tav a “mindflayer thrall” during their argument. Because this is what they are as long as their safety depends on the Emperor’s good mood. It’s not their fault, really. But Astarion clearly has been thinking about it and worried about it. He probably wished not to be stuck between a rock and a hard place for once, not having to choose between two evils, to be strong enough to get them both out of it. So, he doesn’t exactly lie or try to manipulate Tav when he says he wants to keep them both safe. He wants it. He hates to be helpless, but what he hates even more is to watch Tav trying to keep their spirits up and looking for a way out of their predicament while thing just invades Tav's dreams or invites itself into their skull whenever it wishes. He hates wondering what will happen if the Emperor stops playing nice one day. Oh, if only he could be stronger.

- In general, it seems that he is most riled up and protective of Tav when there is a particular type of threat. Tav can handle themselves in a fight. They take a beating sometimes, but they bounce back (what can’t be said about the other guy) and if they don’t find a fight, the fight finds them. Astarion knows it and he doesn’t really mind. He loves the thrill: his spawn endings made it clear that the man embraces the chaos of making decisions and choosing paths with a smile. Danger is part of the fun. It makes his heart beat.

- He generally does his best to be strong for Tav, just like they stay strong for him. But there are also moments when Tav is in danger, and Astarion sees red. And I imagine it’s not only when Tav ends up at the death’s door. It’s also when something directly challenges Tav’s autonomy. A crazy drow wants to run experiments on Tav? Absolutely not, what the fuck? Even if Tav agrees, Astarion is still uncomfortable with the thought and doesn't hide it. Had Araj tried to force her experimentation on the unwilling Tav or trick them into participating, she would have been turned into a dagger cushion very quickly. Cazador calls Tav cattle (another lover to follow Astarion and lose everything, even their right to their soul and body, because of him)? The mere thought of it, the association, the hint at him being a failure dragging his lover down with him makes Astarion lose his composure and just go for the jugular. The idea of Tav enduring the same abuse or being forcibly changed terrifies him. When Tav does it to themselves, it hurts already. However, if someone does it to Tav without letting Tav have any say, then Astarion would go absolutely feral. If that someone can be stabbed, they will be stabbed. If they can’t be stabbed, Astarion WILL find a way to stab them and eviscerate them. Then, regardless of whether Tav is alright or not, Astarion will experience an emotional breakdown that he will then refuse to discuss with anyone else. He has come a long way, but certain negative emotions are still too much to handle.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #bg3 #astarion x tav

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little-pondhead · 2 years

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So, for the Supervillain Danny and Everlast Trio Villains Au's....

What about Jazz?

Since I understand everyone's villain alter ego is based around their trauma and becoming their own antithesis and what not, I'd like to think that Jazz's alter ego would be a bad girl, kinda like Ember and Kitty (the former who mind controlled her twice and the latter who almost took her place while slowly corrupting her), maybe with a hint of Spectra (the school councilor thing, the hospital thing, and that one time with all three of them).

Instead of being the nice, normal girl who tries to be perfect, she's a loose cannon who does all the wild teen stuff, doesn't care about anyone accept for those who are in her 'gang', and will absolutely resort to violence the first chance she gets. Maybe she also has some kind of mind control powers, given how these incidents relate to her being under someone else's control.

Maybe she doesn't come around as often, because she has college and the like, but once she does, things get messy as she takes the chance to let out all her school related stress.

you have read my m i n d

Jazz had almost no childhood since she helped raise Danny from a very young age. She's intelligent and respectful and really wants to be an excellent example for Danny, so she acts as such. Therefore, Jazz never got to go through her 'teenage rebellion' phase. She wears modest clothes and upholds a pretty solid moral code. So here I present Nightingale, the punk-rock social justice warrior who comes and goes like a hurricane. She takes on the name Nightingale to avoid confusion, but once the JL realizes she and Fenton are related, some of the members consider going on a very long vacation to another world so they don't have to deal with this shit.

Now for her powerset, I'm not entirely sure if she should play meta or not. It's a common trope in fics that Jazz has been ecto-contaminated from her parent's experiments, thus giving her some sort of body enhancement. I played on that to give her a set of ears and teeth that match Danny's. She may not have ghost powers, but if she's fighting alongside Team Phantom, she must have some freaky abilities, right? (I love the mind control idea, btw) I feel like Jazz would be the Exception, where she's obviously enhanced in some way, but it's not an obvious power she can consciously separate herself from. It's like trying to tell your body to stop using your eyes. Unless other outside forces are preventing it, Jazz can't really not use her enhanced strength or speed. It drives the JL nuts because either Nightingale is a very weak meta or just an Olympic-level teenage athlete, and no one will spill the beans.

Also, this is personal preference, honestly, but I think it'd be really fucking funny if the DC universe is where Jazz and Danny have all their sibling fights. At home, they have to put up a united front so their parents don't get suspicious and the house doesn't kill them. (Also so none of the rogues takes advantage of their anger at each other) But they're siblings. Even if Jazz and Danny are the best of friends, they have to have arguments over the stupidest stuff. That's practically rule number one of having a sibling. So they go there to blow off steam and duke it out like they've always wanted to. It's mostly to release tension and stress, but each fight is getting more and more elaborate, and this whole thing is ridiculous. None of the heroes get paid enough for this. They're just gonna sit back and watch the show.

#pondhead replies #doodles from a pond #supervillain danny au #let jazz go apeshit #as a treat #GASP #I THINK #INSTEAD OF DANNY ADOPTING CONNER #JAZZ SHOULD #THAT WOULD BE SO FUNNY #also i just realized i spelled 'nightingale' wrong in the sketch #fuck me i guess #danny phantom #danny phantom au #dp crossover #dp x dc #dc x dp #justice league #dpxdc

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