#i am in control of my emotions and it’s on me not him how i feel and we are Very Okay about it

[librababe99]

In the Shadows of Gotham

cw: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, smut, Bruce Wayne x Girlfriend!Reader, fingering, p in v,  oral (f! receiving), overstimulation, body worship word count: 3.1K Summary: Bruce Wayne, the man who lives in the shadows of Gotham, the protector and savior of the city, has only one true weakness—you. After a long night of crime-fighting, Bruce returns home to indulge in your presence.

A/N: This is my first time writing for Bruce and I've had a few ideas swirling around for some time...I was ready to get something out! Happy reading <3

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The weight of Gotham’s night clung to the man you loved. Shadows danced through the large windows of Wayne Manor, wrapping their cold tendrils around the walls of the lavish bedroom where you lay waiting. The clock on the bedside table ticked past 3 AM, a constant reminder that Bruce was still out there, somewhere in the darkness, risking his life for the city that never slept.

You had grown used to the late nights, the endless hours of waiting, but tonight felt different. There was a heaviness in the air, thick with anticipation. You had caught glimpses of it over the last few days—how the tension seemed to coil around Bruce’s muscles like a bowstring, how his eyes darkened with an unspoken need whenever they settled on you. You could feel it building, the way you felt the storm brewing over Gotham before it broke the sky open.

The low, familiar sound of the Batmobile’s engine pulling into the hidden cave beneath the manor jolted you out of your thoughts. Bruce was home.

The idea made your heart race with a blend of excitement and nervousness. He had been so distant lately, his focus entirely on Gotham’s latest wave of crime. But tonight, as you lay in bed, waiting for him, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to change.

The door creaked open, and there he was, standing tall in the shadows of the room. Bruce Wayne. The man, the myth, the enigma wrapped in darkness. He shed the Bat like an old skin, letting it fall away as he stepped toward you. His broad shoulders were still encased in the black of his suit, but his cowl was off, revealing the intense blue of his eyes that locked onto you.

"You're awake," he said, his voice low and rough from the night's exertions.

"I couldn't sleep." Your voice was soft, inviting.

Bruce stood at the edge of the bed, towering over you. His gaze roamed over your form, lingering on the way your body was partially hidden beneath the sheets, but exposed enough to draw his attention. You felt the burn of his eyes on you like a physical touch, and heat bloomed in your core.

"You should rest," he murmured, though his voice was threaded with something darker, something deeper.

"I was waiting for you," you replied, sitting up slightly, the sheet slipping further down your chest, revealing the curve of your breasts.

His eyes darkened further, and a low growl of approval rumbled in his chest. "You shouldn't have to wait."

"But I want to," you whispered, your voice a breathy invitation. "I always wait for you, Bruce."

His control snapped like a taut wire. In a heartbeat, he was crawling onto the bed, moving with a predator's grace. He loomed over you, one hand coming up to cradle your face with surprising gentleness, while the other slid beneath the sheets, brushing over the softness of your skin.

"You have no idea what you do to me," he rasped, his lips inches from yours. "How hard it is to come back here night after night and not just...devour you."

"Then don't hold back," you breathed, leaning into his touch. "I want you, Bruce. All of you."

His lips crashed against yours in a kiss that stole the breath from your lungs. It was desperate, needy, filled with all the pent-up emotion he'd kept locked away behind the mask he wore for Gotham. His tongue slid against yours, and you moaned into his mouth, your fingers tangling in his thick, dark hair.

The hand that had been caressing your face moved down to grip your hip, pulling you flush against him. You could feel the hard length of him pressing against your thigh, and it sent a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

But Bruce didn’t move to undress you right away. Instead, he pulled back, staring down at you with an intensity that made your heart skip a beat.

"I need to touch you," he said, his voice rough with desire. "All of you. I need to remind myself that you're here. That you're real."

You nodded, your breath catching in your throat as he slowly peeled the sheet away from your body, exposing your naked form to his hungry gaze. His eyes roamed over every inch of you, as if he was memorizing the way you looked, committing it to memory in case he never got another chance.

"You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with awe.

You flushed under his praise, your body trembling with anticipation as he lowered himself down beside you. His large hands, rough from years of fighting, slid over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He started at your collarbone, his fingers tracing the delicate line of your neck before dipping lower to cup your breasts. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped, arching into his touch.

He took his time, worshipping every inch of you with his hands, his mouth following the path his fingers had blazed. He kissed the hollow of your throat, the curve of your breast, the soft swell of your stomach. Each touch, each kiss, was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the taste of you, the feel of your skin beneath his lips.

You were lost in the sensation, your body humming with pleasure. But it wasn’t enough. You needed more.

“Bruce,” you whimpered, your hands fisting in the sheets as his mouth trailed lower, kissing along the inside of your thighs. “Please...”

He groaned against your skin, his breath hot as he kissed his way closer to where you needed him most. “Patience, sweetheart,” he murmured. “Let me take my time with you.”

You whimpered again, your body aching with need, but you knew better than to rush him. Bruce was a man who controlled every aspect of his life with iron discipline, and that control extended to the bedroom. He liked to draw things out, to savor the slow build of pleasure until you were trembling on the edge of release.

And that’s exactly what he did.

His mouth finally found your core, and you cried out as he dragged his tongue slowly up your slit, teasing you with featherlight touches. He hummed against you, the sound vibrating through your entire body as he tasted you. His tongue circled your clit, drawing tight, controlled patterns that had you gasping for air.

Your hands flew to his hair, gripping the dark strands tightly as he continued to torment you with his mouth. He licked and sucked, his tongue never stopping its relentless assault on your clit. You could feel the orgasm building, a tight coil of pleasure winding in your belly.

“Bruce,” you gasped, your hips bucking against his face. “I’m so close...please...”

He groaned again, his grip on your thighs tightening as he increased the pressure of his tongue, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel the heat building, could feel yourself teetering on the brink of release.

And then he stopped.

You cried out in frustration as he pulled back, his lips glistening with your arousal. “Bruce, please...I need...”

“I know what you need,” he growled, crawling back up your body. His eyes were dark with lust, his pupils blown wide as he hovered over you. “But I’m not done with you yet.”

Before you could protest, he was kissing you again, his mouth hot and insistent against yours. You could taste yourself on his lips, the salty sweetness of your arousal mixed with the raw, masculine flavor of him. It was intoxicating, and you couldn’t get enough.

His hand slid between your bodies, his fingers finding your slick entrance and slipping inside you. You moaned into his mouth, your body arching off the bed as he began to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them just right to hit that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Bruce,” you whimpered, your nails digging into his back. “Please...I need...”

“You’ll get what you need,” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear. “But first, I want to feel you come around my fingers. I want to watch you fall apart for me.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you clenched around his fingers as the coil of pleasure in your belly tightened once more. He added a third finger, stretching you in a way that was just on the edge of too much, but it felt so good that you couldn’t stop the moan that tore from your throat.

His thumb brushed over your clit, and that was all it took to send you tumbling over the edge. Your body seized, and you cried out as the orgasm crashed through you, your walls clenching around his fingers in waves of pleasure.

Bruce groaned, watching you with a look of pure, unadulterated lust as you fell apart beneath him. “That’s it,” he murmured, his voice rough with desire. “That’s my girl.”

You were still trembling from the aftershocks when he pulled his fingers out of you, his lips crashing against yours once more. You could taste yourself on his tongue, the tang of your release mixing with the roughness of his kiss.

Bruce pulled back, his chest heaving as he looked down at you, his eyes darker than the Gotham night. His hands were still on your trembling thighs, holding you open for him, and the way he gazed at you was as if you were the only thing keeping him tethered to the world. There was something primal in his expression, a need so deep it made your pulse race all over again.

"You're stunning when you come," he said in a low, gravelly voice, the sound vibrating deep in your chest. His fingers trailed up your thigh, teasingly grazing your oversensitive folds, and you whimpered at the sensation. You were still throbbing from your first orgasm, and even the slightest touch made you shiver with both pleasure and overstimulation.

But Bruce had other plans for you tonight. He leaned in close, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “I’m not finished with you yet, sweetheart.”

A thrill shot through you at his words. You could feel the weight of his desire pressing against your thigh, hard and insistent, but instead of giving in to his own need, Bruce seemed intent on worshiping you, on drawing out every ounce of pleasure he could. You had seen him like this before—focused, deliberate, a man on a mission. Only now, his mission was you.

You bit your lip as he kissed down your neck again, his lips and tongue tracing the path of your earlier shudders. He was slow, methodical, savoring the way your body responded to him. Your skin was hypersensitive after your release, and every kiss, every brush of his rough hands, sent sparks of sensation through you.

“Bruce…,” you breathed, unsure whether you were begging for more or asking for mercy.

His lips curled into a smirk against your skin. “Too much?” he asked softly, though there was a teasing note in his voice. His hand slid back between your legs, his fingers lightly tracing your swollen, soaked folds. "Or maybe... not enough?"

The ache between your thighs reignited at his touch, and you moaned softly, your body arching toward him. You were caught between the lingering sensitivity of your first climax and the overwhelming desire for more. The pleasure had barely faded, and already, you felt it building again. Bruce's fingers dipped inside you once more, stroking you with a maddening slowness that made you squirm beneath him.

"I want to feel you come again," he said, his voice rough with need. "I want to see how many times I can make you fall apart for me tonight."

His words, dark and delicious, sent a new wave of heat pooling in your belly. You could feel the tension returning, the slow, insistent pulse of pleasure building as Bruce continued to work his fingers inside you, his thumb brushing over your clit in rhythmic circles. You clenched around him, your body already betraying you, already chasing the high of release again.

He was relentless, patient, his fingers curling against that sweet spot deep inside you, his thumb rubbing circles around your oversensitive clit. You could barely think, barely breathe as the pleasure built higher and higher, threatening to overwhelm you. You had never been so close to overstimulation before, and it was both too much and not enough all at once.

“Bruce—please, I—I can’t…” You gasped, your hands clutching at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

“You can,” he growled, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “You will.”

His thumb pressed harder against your clit, his fingers moving faster inside you, and the coil of pleasure in your belly tightened so quickly you couldn’t stop the moan that tore from your throat. You were trembling, shaking with the intensity of it, your entire body on the verge of shattering under his touch.

Then, without warning, the orgasm hit you again, harder than before. Your vision blurred, your entire body arching off the bed as the pleasure exploded through you, wave after wave crashing over you. You cried out his name, your voice hoarse with the force of your release, and Bruce groaned in response, watching you fall apart beneath him.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. “Let go, sweetheart.”

Your body trembled with the aftershocks, your chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. Bruce’s fingers slipped out of you, and you whimpered at the sudden emptiness, at the loss of his touch. But he wasn’t finished.

He kissed you again, his lips soft but insistent, and you melted into him, still shaking from the force of your second orgasm. His body pressed against yours, his hardness unmistakable as he settled between your legs. You could feel the heat of him, the weight of him, and it sent a fresh wave of desire coursing through you.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his lips trailing down the curve of your neck. “But I need more. I need to be inside you.”

You moaned softly, your body still thrumming with overstimulation, but the thought of him filling you, of him finally giving in to his own desire, made the ache between your thighs flare with renewed intensity.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling with need. "I want you, Bruce. I need you."

He groaned at your words, his resolve crumbling as he reached down to line himself up with your entrance. He was thick, hard, and the moment the tip of him pressed against your slick heat, you gasped, your body arching toward him in anticipation.

Slowly, agonizingly, Bruce pushed inside you, stretching you in a way that had your toes curling in pleasure. You moaned softly, your hands gripping his biceps as he filled you completely, inch by inch. It was almost too much after everything he had already put you through, but the pleasure far outweighed the pain.

“God, you feel so good,” he growled, his breath hot against your neck as he finally bottomed out inside you. “So fucking tight. So perfect.”

He stayed still for a moment, letting you adjust to the feel of him, but you could feel the tension in his body, the way his muscles trembled with restraint. He was holding himself back for you, trying not to overwhelm you too soon, but you didn’t want restraint anymore.

"Bruce," you whimpered, rolling your hips against him, urging him to move. "Please…"

That single word broke him.

With a deep, primal groan, Bruce began to thrust into you, slow at first but with a growing intensity that had you gasping for air. Every stroke sent a shock of pleasure through you, your oversensitive body responding to him in ways you hadn’t thought possible. Each time he bottomed out, the head of his cock pressed against that sweet spot inside you, and the pleasure radiated outward, overwhelming you.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, your back arching off the bed as you moaned his name over and over again. He was relentless, his hips snapping against yours with increasing force, each thrust driving you higher and higher toward that precipice you had already tumbled over twice tonight.

"Look at me," Bruce growled, his hand gripping your jaw, tilting your head so that your eyes met his. His gaze was intense, filled with heat and adoration, and the sight of him above you, so consumed by his need for you, made your heart race. "I want to see you come for me again."

Your body obeyed before your mind could catch up. The tight coil of pleasure in your belly unraveled, and your orgasm hit you like a freight train. You cried out his name, your walls clenching around him, milking him as wave after wave of ecstasy crashed over you.

Bruce groaned, his hips stuttering as your release triggered his own. With a deep, guttural moan, he buried himself inside you, his body trembling as he spilled into you. His thrusts slowed, becoming more erratic as he rode out his orgasm, until finally, he collapsed on top of you, both of you breathing hard, slick with sweat and sated.

For a few moments, the only sound in the room was the sound of your ragged breaths mingling together. Bruce’s weight was comforting on top of you, grounding you as your mind slowly returned to your body. He didn’t pull out right away, staying inside you, still hard enough to keep you full as he kissed your forehead, your cheek, your lips.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice rough but filled with something softer, something tender.

You smiled up at him, your hand sliding up to cup his face. "So are you."

Bruce let out a soft chuckle, his lips brushing against yours in a lazy, languid kiss. “I think I might’ve broken you,” he teased, his thumb tracing the curve of your swollen lips.

“You did,” you admitted with a breathless laugh. “In the best possible way.”

He rolled over onto his back, taking you with him so that you were lying on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and you let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the warmth of his body.

“I could stay like this forever,” you murmured, pressing a kiss to his chest, just above his heart.

Bruce smiled softly, his hand stroking your back in slow, soothing circles. “So could I.”

For a while, the two of you simply lay there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside forgotten. There was no crime, no shadows. There was only the two of you, tangled together in the aftermath of your shared pleasure, basking in the warmth of your love.

[sweetestcaptainhughes]

“Don’t touch me. We’re fighting.”

Quinn pleaseeee 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

I'm gonna put a warning on this because I like it so I don't feel like rewriting it. Warning: shitty relationship with father.

Drabble Masterlist

"Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn didn't seem to care that you were pissed. But pissed didn't even describe the soreness in your jaw from clenching it so tight or the fact that your body temperature was elevated or that all you wanted to do was scream. Glancing over as he stood on the other side of the kitchen island, his face was as it always was calm, his thoughts were probably collected while your brain was firing off things to add to the fire if needed, he looked like he was in control of his body while yours was being controlled by the rage inside you. Looking at Quinn only pissed you off more so you just looked away.

After a minute, you decided it was best to walk away and cool off before you said something you'd regret. Quinn on the other hand, wasn't done fighting he wanted you to understand his point of view and he didn't wanna wait till morning. As you made your way down the hall you could hear Quinn's footsteps behind you.

"Wait Y/N, Let me explain." He went to gently touch your arm in hopes that you would stop walking away from him.

He got his wish, you turned around talking through your teeth you grunted. "Don't touch me. We're fighting."

Quinn has never pulled away from you so quickly before. Even with how angry you were at him it still hurt you how fast he pulled away. Quinn was looking at the floor, for the first time showing emotion since your fight started. "I was just trying to help."

All you could do is sigh. "By telling my father off?" you question defeat clear in your voice. "Quinn I've been over this with you, my family isn't like your family. You can't just voice your opinions to my dad, especially if it's you disagreeing with him or his choices."

Quinn looked up at you finally, he frowned his eyebrows in annoyance but you knew it wasn't at you. "Well I am mad at him. He shouldn't be allowed to talk down to you and blame you for not getting along with your stepmom when all she does is talk down to you. I couldn't sit there and let her talk down to you at dinner. Okay. And I guess I'm sorry for how it came up, but I am not sorry for standing up for you."

"Quinn I know you were trying to stand up for me. But I don't need you or anyone to stand up for me, especially against my family. Okay?" you ask waiting for him to acknowledge you.

"No. I'm sorry because how can you let them tell you that you aren't as far in your career as you should be as if they helped at all with the cost of college. Or the fact that all they did all dinner was telling you everything you were doing wrong with your life?" His tone was accusing and you found yourself taking a step back, your body was exhausted and all you wanted to was get out of this ichy dress and go to bed.

"I don't wanna have this conversation tonight." you begged.

"I just don't understand why do you even keep him around Y/N!"

"Okay since you seem to not be able to understand why I let them talk that way to you let me explain it to you so we never have to talk about this again got it?" you ask waiting for Quinn to nod his head before you continue. "Look my dad might be a piece of shit, but guess what he's my piece of shit father not anyone else's. Everyone always ask me for years 'Y/N if I were you, I'd cut him off why don't you.' For a long time I didn't have an answer for them but as I got older I do and it's this. Because he might be a piece of shit but without him I wouldn't be standing here physically because he is physically half of me. And I know you have lovely parents Quinn and brothers. But not everyone does and I am terrifed that if I do cut him out all the way vs seeing him three times a year like I do now. That one day I will get a call and he will be dead and I will have regret for not at least having him in some capactiy in my life. So because of that fear of regret because I know many people who have it now since their parents passed. I keep him around and if you can't understand that fine, not everyone does."

Taking a step closer to Quinn you add, "but whether you agree or not, you don't get to judge me for the choices I've made when it comes to the relationship between my father and I. Because that is exactly what it is." Pointing to yourself. "It's MY relationship not yours and you also don't get to make it more shaky then it already is by yelling at him in the middle of the steakhouse."

Quinn and you aren't sure how long you stood in your apartment hallway, it could of been seconds it could of been minutes. At some point Quinn looked at you and said "agree to disagree." All you did was nod and you both said true to your word you never talked about your father and your relationship ever again.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Owe My Life (Jasper Hale)

Summary: Jasper and Reader comfort each other after she was attacked.

WC: 880ish

Warnings: mentions of an attack, some blood,flangst

Read on Ao3!

--

The air was thick with the scent of rain-soaked pine, a damp mist clinging to the mossy forest floor. The overcast sky barely let any light through, casting the woods in an eerie twilight, but you had long grown accustomed to the gloom of Forks. You leaned against the rough bark of a tree, trying to steady your breath, your heart pounding in your chest from the events that had just unfolded.

Jasper stood a few feet away, still as a statue, his amber eyes sharp and watchful as they followed your every move. His face was calm, but you could sense the barely-contained tension radiating from him like static electricity in the air. He always had a way of keeping everything under control—even himself, when necessary—but you could see the strain in him now.

You touched the side of your neck, feeling the faint sting from where the rogue vampire’s teeth had grazed your skin. It could have been so much worse. If Jasper hadn’t been there...

“I owe my life to you,” you said softly, the words heavy with the weight of everything that had just happened. You weren’t sure how else to express it, the gratitude and the fear mixing into something that felt almost surreal.

Jasper turned to you fully, his brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t owe me anything,” he replied, his Southern accent slipping through the words, smooth but serious. “I did what I had to do.”

You shook your head, pushing off from the tree and stepping closer to him. “No, Jasper, you saved me. I—” The words caught in your throat, the gravity of the near-death experience settling over you like a shroud. “If you hadn’t shown up when you did…”

He was in front of you in an instant, his cool hands gently holding your arms, steadying you in a way only he could. His touch was always so careful, so deliberate, as if he was constantly mindful of his strength, of the fragility of your human body.

“I’m always going to protect you,” Jasper murmured, his golden eyes locking with yours. “You don’t ever need to thank me for that.”

His gaze was intense, filled with a depth of emotion that always seemed to simmer just beneath the surface with him. He wasn’t like the others—not as polished, not as perfectly controlled. There was something raw about Jasper, something that made him feel more real, more tangible despite the fact that he was immortal.

“I just—” You took a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. “I know what you struggle with. I know how hard it must have been for you... after what happened.” You glanced down, remembering the brief but deadly scuffle, the scent of your blood in the air. Jasper had stayed in control, but you had seen the flash in his eyes, the momentary flare of hunger quickly replaced by the cold, calculated soldier he had become in a fight.

Jasper’s jaw tightened slightly, but he didn’t let go of you. “It’s nothing compared to losing you.”

His words hit you like a punch to the chest, their quiet intensity making your breath catch. Jasper had always been protective of you, but this felt like more. Like a truth, he’d been holding back for far too long.

You swallowed hard, trying to find the right words. “Jasper, I don’t want you to keep thinking that you’re a danger to me. You’re not.”

His eyes softened, but there was still a sadness there, something deep and old and worn from centuries of guilt and self-loathing. “I’m always going to be a danger to you,” he said quietly. “That’s just the truth of what I am.”

You reached up, gently placing your hand on his cheek, feeling the cool smoothness of his skin beneath your fingertips. “Then let me decide if it’s worth the risk,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the weight of the moment. “Because for me, you’re worth it. Every time.”

Jasper closed his eyes briefly, as if the weight of your words was too much to bear. When he opened them again, there was something like relief there, a softening of the sharp edges he usually kept around himself.

“You’re stronger than you know,” he said, his voice low, almost reverent. “Stronger than me.”

You smiled, shaking your head. “I wouldn’t go that far.”

He didn’t smile, but there was a gentleness in his expression that made your heart ache. “I mean it.”

For a moment, the two of you stood there in the quiet of the forest, the world outside feeling far away. The danger had passed, but the bond between you had only grown stronger in its wake.

“I don’t need you to owe me anything,” Jasper said after a long pause, his voice softer now, the tension finally easing from his frame. “Just stay with me. That’s all I ask.”

You nodded, your hand still resting on his cheek, feeling the coolness of his skin against the warmth of yours. “Always.”

And in that moment, despite everything—the danger, the uncertainty, the darkness that always seemed to linger around you—you knew that you meant it. Because with Jasper, you were never alone. And no matter what came next, you’d face it together.

tags!

EVERYTHING PERM: @nekoannie-chan @kjs-s @notyourtypicalrose @mistressofallthingsgeeky

[yuri-is-online]

Weird Yutu thingy but what if Yuu came from the Pokemon world

I believe the support system in the Pokemon world is much better than Earth so-

Single parent with a raging teen-

Add some emotional support Pokemon

And when Yutu comes to his parent's timeline Yuu gets so excited to see new Pokemon (that love them for some reason. Almost as though they were their first trainer-)

Oh Yuu and Yutu would be in such a better place if they came from the pokemon world. Yuu gets a house with a bunch of neighbors and nearby a lab and no one really cares about not knowing who Yutu's dad is.

The pokemon part is a bit trickey though... would they remember Twisted Wonderland? Probably, I couldn't see the magic marshal's keeping the pokemon? But I could also see one of Yuu's team staying with Yutu's dad by accident. Maybe it helps keep the boys who remain alive that much more sane, maybe it stands reluctant guard nearby where the phantom resides, unable to think of anything else to do until it sees Yutu and gets some of its old energy back. This whole ayuu is based off of Fire Emblem Awakening so I have to mention Cherche and her wyvern Minerva... her son Gerome takes up his mother's mount and brings her back in time with him, it's how she recognizes him even before he shows her the wedding ring... perhaps something similar happened with Yutu where he has one of your pokemon and you just know that he's lying to you even before you know he's your son (Gerome's supports with his dad made me so mad because I always S ranked Cherche and Libra because Libra actually learns to speak wyvern in their support chain but that's not reflected in his support with Gerome because it's generic and i wanted to scream every time i read iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit. I sort of based Jade! Yutu's attitude towards his dad on those supports though)

But back to nicer thoughts, I always struggle with pokemon aus because half of it is just assigning the pokemon, and then I get super caught up in what region everyone is from and just bleh

Riddle! Yutu has to have a Roselia right? It just makes sense, maybe he has the shiny stone for the evolution all ready to go but it was the last present Yuu ever gave him so he's reluctant to use it. Maybe, if you want some extra angst, when he comes to Twisted Wonderland he still just has a budew because he's not super into pokemon battles but he struggles to raise the friendship level enough for budew to evolve once he's there. He's so upset about losing his parent and budew is trying their best tm but it's not enough until they see Overblot Riddle and finally get on the same wavelength.

The triplets... one of them has to have a Fidough that's just a given. I was tempted to say they all have one? But I like the idea of Yushi having a Swirlix since she's more into candymaking. That's 2/3 fairy types so I was scrolling looking for another one when I saw Sinistea and went "oh that would be cute and the perfect fit for a cafe themed se-" and then I realized I could give that to Yutres. Could. For funsies. But it makes much more sense and is less cruel to give her a Milcery. So Yutu gets Fidough, Yutres gets Milcery, and Yushi gets Swirlix for a cute little fairy cafe set.

Cater! Yutu is trickey, he's big on mindfulness and I was really tempted to give him my favorite pokemon because of that, but he also really likes music... I feel like psychic pokemon sort of fits his vibe? And I am torn between Chimecho and Espurr. Espurr is supposed to have difficulty controlling its power, so maybe Chimecho and Yutu could have been focused on helping one out. Cater is super underrated so why shouldn't I give his Yutu two pokemon, it'd be very cute.

Ace! Yutu is pikachu coded to me <3 They would fight so much because both pikachu and Yutu are little brats but once they get in sync watch out they're super scary. Easily the pokemon most excited to see Yuu again... perhaps all that ego clashing is just something that happened in Yuu's world because pika and Yutu bonded while grieving Yuu. Maybe Yutu never evolves his pikachu because that's how Yuu gave it to him. Maybe Pikachu doesn't want to evolve because that's how Yuu left it.

Deuce! Yutu... there aren't any explicitly chicken pokemon outside of maybe Moltres but there is Togepi who is an egg. Baby Yutu loves his bestest friend in the whole wide world, Delinquent Yutu is sort of embarrassed by them. After he catches a houndoor he stops actively using them in battle... he doesn't hate Togi, he just doesn't let anyone in his gang see them and gets really violent with anyone who might try to hurt them. Probably defends fairy types any chance he gets before stammering out some sort of excuse trying to play it off as someone else's opinions. Maybe his boys catch on and one of them gets the idea that maybe they could like... start using impidimps. Make Grimmsnarl the icon of the gang instead of Houndoom, just cause you know maybe fairies are kinda neat maybe. they all want it to be togi instead please boss we made them a little biker jacket isn't it so cu- i mean badass?

Leona! Yutu is loved by cats and he loves naps. Litleo feels like the most thematic pokemon for him, maybe they were napping under a tree one day and a Munchlax decided to follow him home because sleeping on Leona! Yutu was actually pretty warm and Yuu makes the best snacks. His dad probably didn't appreciate the correlation between him and his son's pokemon but as I have said before, he's very much that dad who doesn't want the cat but ends up asleep on the couch with it in his lap two days later. Except this time it's him feeding all his vegetables to Munchlax.

Ruggie! Yutu is my little dandelion prince so he gets a Hoppip. I like the idea of him coming home with one stuck in his hair and they've been best friends ever since. He feels like the one most likely to take over training Yuu's team, if he had continued living in your world I don't think he would have become a trainer. He would have been happy to have a normal job and maybe never evolve his pokemon, but he doesn't regret taking on the role of trainer in the bad future. It gives him a lot of self confidence.

Jack! Yutu... I will bestow him the honor of giving him one of my favorite pokemon. He gets Cacnea because Yuu remembers that Jack liked succulents. Yutu is very serious about taking care of him and making sure he has the best possible habitat at home. Cacnea is under the impression it is doing the same for Yutu and Yuu, but the stubby little hands it has make helping with chores difficult.

It's really tempting to give all of the Octatrio kids water type pokemon, maybe left over memories from Twisted Wonderland make Yuu think that would be a good idea. But I want to give Azul! Yutu a Clobbopus sosososososo bad. It's such a cute pokemon and I think Yutu would agree that his pokemon is super cute. So does everyone in Savanaclaw much to his annoyance, it's like his pokemon is the dorm leader and not him.

Jade! Yutu feels like a Mareanie guy. Water type since he's a merfolk, poison type because that's pretty punk rock, and it looks just enough like a mushroom to be thematic. I could see one of Yuu's pokemon staying in Twisted Wonderland with Jade... a Shiinotic who helps him at the bar and is the best cared for mushroom out there that Yutu is envious. Why does his parent's pokemon love his dad so much? Why won't it agree to come with him into the past where you are still alive because it insists on staying with Jade, saying that's what you would want?

Floyd! Yutu's favorite pokemon ever since he was a little boy was Sharpedo. He asked, suspiciously politely, to be given one when he was old enough to get his trainer's license. He even made a power point, how cute! The answer was still no, instead Yuu convinces the lab near by their house to take Yutu on as one of those trainers with a pokedex who goes on a journey to collect all the gym badges. He really likes being a trainer, probably would have been the annoying rival to his next door neighbor, definitely picked whatever pokemon was strongest against whatever they picked. He still catches his Carvanha and doesn't hold it against Yuu for not giving it to him, he thinks that was probably for the best.

Kalim! Yutu deserves a Whooper. It's cute, the little face is always smiling and Whooper and Quagsire are such joyful little guys I think Kalim would love them. Oricorio feels like a good choice too because of how much it likes dancing... but I feel like Yutu would have a hard time choosing what form to train because they are all so cool. His dad would be such an enabler, sure son lets have all four! And throw a themed party for each one lol

Jamil! Yutu also feels like a good candidate for a pokemon rival. Sure, Ekans and Arbok feel like good pokemon for him thematically, but I just know he would have a well balanced and thought out team of pokemon he deeply loves and takes great care of. Keeping with the snake theme, lets say he started out with Snivy. Serperior fits Jamil's overall vibe pretty well, it's a beautiful pokemon and very regal. Other pokemon I could see him having are Gastrodon, Clefable, and Scizor.

Vil! Yutu loves to draw but I do not like Smeargle in the slightest and will be pretending it does not exist. I feel like anyone attached to Vil should get a Buneary, it's a cute pokemon with a friendship evolution who has real hate in its heart. It is more like Vil than any poison type pokemon fr fr. I could see Vil! Yutu doing well as coordinator, but being a bit uncertain of who else he wants to add to his team, but catching an evee with the intent of evolving them into... something he just doesn't know what.

I hit the text block limit lol, I should just. Stop being distracted by cassette beasts and get back to writing. Or replay a pokemon game.

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

Changes chapter 24

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It had been three days since Star had run from her home, taking her little brother along with her. She'd left in a rush, not wanting to alarm the people inside. No bags were packed, and no things were taken - they just left with the clothes on their back. Star sighed as she looked at her reflection in the broken mirror of the motelroom she'd broken into. Laddie was fast asleep, snoring loudly.

She tucked him in, making sure he was comfortable before quietly leaving the room. She had to go back. She had to go and get her mom and get answers. How could her grandfather be doing something so horrible that his own daughter was terrified of what he could do to his own grandchildren?

Star quickly walked across the parking lot towards the busy road. Even now, in the middle of the night, cars sped past. She stuck her hand out, standing underneath a streetlight, hoping someone would see her.

She stood there for a while. Cars rushed past her, no one bothering to stop. Only when it began to rain, and she was completely soaked, did an old rusty red car stop. A woman in her late thirties sat behind the steering wheel.

"Are you alright?"

"I need to get to my mom!" Star called out over the heavy rumbling of rain.

"Get in!" The woman popped the door open. "She must be worried sick! What are you doing out here in this weather?"

Star got in and shut the door, shivering slightly. "I got lost on my way home, I lost my wallet, and I've been trying to hitch a ride with someone for the past three hours, but no one stopped."

"Oh dear," the woman looked shocked, not noticing the lies Star just told her. "Well, I am glad I stopped for you, dear. I'm Lucy, by the way. Where do you need to go?"

"Star, and thank you, really." She smiled, directing the woman down the road, leading her all the way to COL.

As the car came to a halt, Star quickly stepped out, thanking Lucy as she did so. Before the kind woman could say anything in return, Star had taken off, running into the woods. She just hoped no one would see her. No guard would spot her and drag her back inside. She needed to get in and out unnoticed, making sure she could take her mom with her and-

She fell backwards as she ran into someone, a large man with angry yellow eyes glaring at her.

"Shit, who are you?!"

"Who am I? What are you doing here? This place is bad news."

"As if I don't know that," Star got up, wiping the dirt from her skirt. "My mom's in there. I need to get her out."

"You know a way in?"

The girl nodded. Max grinned. Ever since the boys had left to go inside, he hadn't been able to contact any of them. David and Dwayne were God knows where, Max really had no clue, and Marko and Paul nad disappeared into the building. Ever since that happened, he had lost the feeling of being controlled by someone - which, on one hand, caused him to feel a little more at ease, but on the other hand worried him. The lack of control on him meant - most likely - that that control was exercised on someone else.

"I'm Max. They got my daughter in there and my sons. I'll make you a deal," he looked at the girl, glad to see she was open to his proposal. "I'll help you get your mom out if you help me find my kids."

Star thought about it for a moment, looking at him. "Why would I do that?"

"Because, dear," Max' face changed shape, becoming more batlike, "I am the muscle you need to get past the guards."

Star nodded, thinking to herself, not allowing herself to get freaked out by the man in front of her. She needed to fix this, and she could freak out later, when it was more convenient. "Alright. But we get my mom out first."

"We get them all out in order of who we come across first." Max said, a finality in his tone making it clear to Star that there was no point in arguing.

Lucien sighed disappointedly as he saw Julie. Her dazed expression, her lack of fear or emotional recoil - it saddened him. He enjoyed his games, and when a participant didn't want to play anymore, it was simply time to clear the playing field.

"Juliebug, " he crouched down in front of her, forcing her to look at him, "I really don't get why you're so afraid. After all, I never hurt you. Doctor Gregory did. Not me."

Julie glared at him, trying to look away, but his hold on her chin got only stronger. She winced in pain as she felt the bone protest against the force practiced upon it.

"No, I only ever brought you sweet release. I brought you life," he grinned, showing his fangs, "I brought you a family."

Julie pushed him away. No. He did not give her life. He did not give her a family. He fed her lies, he messed with her minds and memories, and he ruined what was supposed to be a wonderful human life. She got up, taking in a deep breath as she tried to steady herself. This was it. She needed to concentrate.

"Ah!" Lucien laughed, getting up himself as well. "I hoped you'd be willing to fight more."

Julie didn't bother to listen to him, instead attacking the second he moved up from the ground. It was easy to get him off balance, to pin him on the ground. She pinned him down. He trashed against her, hands pushing against her chest, her throat, her face - but Julie didn't let go. She pushed back. When a hand wrapped around her neck, she gasped for air. She snarled at him. She lashed out, her long, sharp vampire nails digging deep into his eyesocket. Lucien screamed, clutching his eye. Julie slashed again, opening up his wrist. Again. Opening up his chest. Once, twice.

She was covered in blood, covered in sweat and tears, but Lucien didn't give up. He didn't back down. When she looked away for a mere second, distracted by a loud thump above her, she was thrown across the room. Before she crashed against the wall, she redirected herself. Flying up into the air, she tried to jump Lucien, but he was on to her. He grabbed her foot, dragging her down and slamming her into the ground.

A silent scream escaped her as she felt her arm being ripped out of its socket as he lifted her up and slammed her down again. She gasped for air. Lucien grinned as he stood over her, lifting her up and slamming her against the wall.

Cracks formed in the concrete where she'd collided, pieces of rock falling down. Julie laid there between the ruble, struggling to get up. She leaned on her arms, one of them giving out the second she put any force on it.

"Are you done yet? You can't win from me, fledgling. I am your sire, I control -"

Lucien flew backwards. Julie landed on top of him, a large red brick in her hands as she pinned him down to the ground. Lucien laughed loudly, noticing how desperate the girl seemed. But then the brick hit his face, his damaged eye officially popping out. Then she hit again, his nose breaking. Again.

Again.

Again.

And again.

David silently cursed to himself as he realised he had lost sight of the van. He and Dwayne had promised her that they'd be there for her every step of the way, but now? As quickly as they could, they drove through the streets, making their way down the highway. They sped past cars, moving left and right to avoid crashing into them.

"We'll get there in time!" Dwayne called out. He was a couple of feet behind David.

"We better!" David sped up even more, moving off the freeway as he saw a sign stating Berkeley was close by. Dwayne quickly followed. They dropped their bikes in the woods near the main street, deciding to fly the rest of the way. It would be faster, and the chances of them being seen would be minimalized.

Quickly, they flew through the night, seeing a building rise at the horizon. It was the same building Max had described to them hours before, the same building Julie was held at.

Dwayne was the first to land, landing on the edge of the roof. "She's here," he said, sighing with worry. "Max is still outside, but the others are inside as well."

"Max was supposed to go in," David hissed, annoyance lacing his voice. "Motherfucker."

"Let's make sure we find Julie first. Afterwards we can deal with Max."

They walked across the roof, David easily ripping the metal door of the roof entrance of its hinges. Quietly, the two men stepped inside, swiftly walking down the stairs, making sure they didn't make a single sound. They opened the door at the end of the stairs, ending up in a dark, carpeted hallway.

David was about to say something when they heard a man's laughter. They looked at each other without saying another word.

They flew down the hallway, crashing into the room where they'd heard the man. David and Dwayne looked up, seeing the same man whose head they'd seen in that box days before. Seeing him laugh as his face was being smashed to pieces by Julie, who was crying tears of anger as she smashed the brick in her hands down and down again on his face. Pieces of blood, skin, eye and brain stuck to it, creating a sickening noise as she pulled the rock away only to bring it down again with such force that the remainders of the skull scattered to pieces.

Next chapter > available on September 29th

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 299

Hear me out- Ghosts have wings. They have wings, which are affected by their cores, and can make them disappear from sight if they want or need to. You got that? Good. 

Ecto-contaminated people? Don’t have wings. Liminals and Halfas, who have developed cores? Do have wings, and they can’t hide said wings, because unlike ghosts? Their bodies are physical living flesh. 

Now Gotham? Ecto-contaminated, there’s no doubt about it. The amount of portals that have been opened there and death pits and death cults… yeah it’d be surprising if it wasn’t. But again, no one really notices, because at most? Most just get a bit of eyeshine. 

The Bats however? Oh man are they freaking out when they wake up with aches in their back and feathers starting to poke through their skin. Curse? Nope! Welcome to Liminality, enjoy the second puberty of wings, emotion-sharing, fangs, claws, and whatever else you might develop- also enjoy the whole eating fear thing. (Wait, the what-)

[perilegs]

ok i might need to force myself to not romance astarion bc i don't want to know what it says about me to turn down karlach, the woman of my dreams, the character made to cater me personally, like, if she was real i'd bring the moon and stars down for the chance to see her smile, she's everything i've hoped for in a rpg companion, what does it say about me if i turn that down for someone like astarion

[garrettwrites]

When someone tells you they don't like hugs, that's not an invitation for you to "cure them". It is not a "you" thing, although sometimes it might be. You thinking "they have to get used to it" because "your hugs are different" and "that's how you show love" is not a valid argument. Hugging them out of the blue as a goodbye is not cool either. Fuck off.

[vampiremansionpoolboy-moved]

going insane over the fact that happiness and care and concern and love is underneath every interaction between newt and hermann in pacific rim

[shirogane-oushirou]

ermmmm when otters wrap themselves around each other? and hold each other in their sleep? and groom each other while cuddling? and perfectly wrap their tails around the back of the other otter??? points at them. that's me and my boyfie. anyway.

[the-trans-dragon]

What’s the appropriate way for me to respond to customers handing me religious pamphlets/cards? I’m not worried about getting fired btw.

[theinfinitedivides]

i am not well today one of my favorite film reviewers just put out a spoilerless piece on Pathaan talking about how well done it was and halfway through i started f*cking sobbing

[khaotunq]

🥹🥹🥹🥹

[mrburnsnuclearpussy]

I wish so badly that I never started watching Downton abbey because here I am now having near anxiety attacks over a fictional character and it’s just miserable and I want out!!!! This obsession hurts more than it feels good but I can’t get rid of it and idk how 😭

[yanosdiary]

Fuck.

[david-box]

I'm gonna do it anyway but wtf is the name of that thing you use to stop triggers