#i wanted to write something
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got-ticket-to-ride · 2 years ago
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pawnyx · 2 years ago
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There’s a billion poems that only make sense to us, written in the words of experience and time that only the little few can capture
There’s a billion words no one else has ever read, strung across the little strings in the morning, and set to bed at night
There’s a billion sunsets that no one will ever see
And a billion that no one ever saw.
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auroragehenna · 2 years ago
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I'll do anything for you-to see you smile
Non-canon/timeline – Lyra&Adam
TW: Female whumpee's, multiple whumpee's, sadistic whumper, creepy whumper, forced to beg, self-sacrifice, implied torture (whipping deluxe) Word count: 1‘289
Lyra just looked up at Adam in absolute confusion and shock when he walked into the pool hall with a bound, gagged, and blindfolded person. She could not comprehend what was happening.
Adam pushed the girl into the pool and she crash landed on the metal floor. "Hold on to that for me for a second, will you."
A squeezed whimper made its way past the makeshift gag. of the girl. Lyra, who had previously jumped up, instantly bolted towards the girl, only slowing down when she was right in front of her. "Hey, I'm not gonna hurt you, okay, I'm just gonna untie you."
The girl was still squirming and crying while Lyra made quick work at untying her. She first removed the blindfold to give her back her sight and at least some control. The girl's green, terrified eyes met her own brown ones. She was doing her best to hide her own fear from her, giving her a warm half-smile. This is most definitely a trap; you know that. Her brain voice warned. I know, but I won’t leave her like this! Not ever! She thought back. Then she had untied her and carefully helped her up. The girl didn’t look injured, aside from a few cut wounds on her cheek and arms. And Lyra could tell, from knowing Adam, that those were inflicted solely for aesthetic. Rage bubbled up in her but she pushed it down. She helped the girl to the middle of the basin and tried to calm her down. “What’s your name?”
“Holly.”
“Holly, what a pretty name, it’s a beautiful plant!”
“So pointy though.”, she joked nervously.
“True. And still pretty.”, Lyra smiled and gently laid a hand on the girl’s arm.
The girl flinched but then gingerly took a hold of Lyra’s hand and held on to it.
Lyra smiled, she was holding back tears and was hoping so much that Holly wouldn’t notice. “You can squeeze it if you want to.”
“Thank you.”
“Now isn’t this wholesome.”, Adam commented, a sly grin laying on his lips.
The two girls turned around startled, both not letting go of each other. Holly scared and confused and Lyra with a boiling anger hidden away.
“What do you think of your new cellmate Lyra?”
Lyra didn’t want to answer, she didn’t want to engage him and she did not want to talk about Holly when she was right next to her.
“I can’t see how my opinion matters in this, you apparently have already taken a liking to her.”, she diverted.
Adam’s grin doesn’t waver at the coldness Lyra throws at him. He rather finds it amusing. “Well, as a matter of fact I have. Problem is right now she’s pretty…Well she’s a little confused. I think I should teach her some of our rules, hm? Don’t you think?”, Adam elaborated, getting a big pocketknife out of his bag.
Lyra gently freed her hand from Holly’s grip. In one motion she stepped in front of her and lays her arms around her from the front.
“No. You won’t.”
A sadistic grin widened on Adam’s face. “And whyever would I not, Lyra? Hm?”
Lyra shook at the trigger but she pushed it down, she pushed it all down, the fact that she was exactly doing what he wanted her to. But she would not see Holly harmed. Not if she could help it in any way! “I can teach her the rules!”
“You?”, he laughed. “You barely follow any of them!”
“Doesn’t mean I don’t know them.”, she smiled saccharinely. All but rubbing it into his face.
Adam’s face, just for moment, distorted in anger.
Point for me. Lyra thought to herself.
“This is bullshit.”, he spat and jumped into the basin. He started walking towards the two girls. “Lyra move out of the way.”
“No.”, Lyra repeated loud and clear.
“I said move!”
“No!”, Lyra said. She pushed Holly further back-hearing her scared sobs-and walked forth, meeting Adam halfway. Even with the height difference between the two she made herself as big as possible before coming to halt in front of him.
Adam taxed her with a look from head to toe before making eye contact. He flipped open the knife and laid the blade underneath Lyra’s chin tilting it up. “I said”, he says ever so gently, “move. out. of. the. way.”
“No, Adam. I won’t let you hurt her further.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“Yes. I do. I won't let you hurt her.”
“You wanna take her place?”, Adam threatened, nicking her skin with the knife.
“Lyra’s gaze was unwavering as she held up her arms.
Adam took the scenery in front of him in for a few second before chuckling. His cool demeaner back as if it was never gone. “You’re really ridiculous, you know that, right? She’s not even your friend. And she most definitely isn’t your therapy.”
“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”, she replied coldly, arms still raised.
“Oh thyma, I don’t have to.” He pocketed the knife and gently took a hold of her chin. “I just have to know enough to manipulate you.”
Lyra shot him a hateful glare but she made no move to shake off his hand.
“You wanna take her place? Show me. Get on your knees.”, Adam demanded. Half gambling because he still wasn’t sure this was going to work on his stubborn victim.
Lyra registered the words, she thought of the sweet girl behind her and much to Adam’s visible surprise she dropped to her knees in an instant.
Adam was shocked for a few seconds before the smuggest grin widened out on his face. He reached down and tiled her head up again. There was still the same fire in her eyes as always but she complied. This was delectable! “Beg for it.”, he ordered. Lyra bent down further, until her face was nearly on the floor-though he assumed that was more to prevent him from seeing her face.
“Please. Torture me instead of her. If she does something wrong punish me not her. Let me protect her. Please Adam.”
Adam set a food on Lyra’s arched back and pressed down, revelling in the feeling this whole scenario gave him, in the power.
“Are you sure? You could gain quite some things from this situation…”
Lyra was silent for a little while before replying: “I am sure.”
“Mmmh I guess that was to be expected. Sit up! Alright, as long as you behave, she stays safe. And who knows maybe you can even earn some scarps for her, hm.”, Adam mused. “Now I shall get Holly then and get her to the locker room, shall I.”
“Wait-Please Adam, can I talk to her for a moment.”, Lyra caught herself.
“Hmm, sure. Since you asked so nicely.”, he said, rubbing it into her face.
“You have one minute.”
Lyra scrambled up on her feet and hurried over to the still crying, wide-eyed girl.
“I’m so sor-sorry. You didn’t have to-you’re gonna get-“
“-Hey, hey, hey-Holly, calm down, look at me. Holly, look at me.”, Lyra tried to calm her down and eventually the girl calmed down enough to really look at her. “I’m gonna be alright, okay? I can handle him.”
“But you didn’t have to-“
“-Ten seconds.”, Adam announced
Lyra gave Holly a kiss on her forehead. “I’ll anything for you to see you smile.”
Then Adam walked in between the two, grabbed Holly and “led” her to her new home.
Before later returning with a bag full of torture utensils no doubt. This was going to suck Lyra knew. Worth it, she thought. Even as the metal-enforced tip of leather whip sneaked itself teasingly over her back.
Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11, @greatkittencloud, @bisexuawolfsalt
Please send me asks about this I want an excuse to ramble more about it!
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pangur-and-grim · 5 months ago
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alright, I’m annoyed with the class that I’m taking. it’s about writing novels, and I thought it would have cool stuff about balancing your narrative and developing themes etc, but instead she spent the first class talking about how every book fits into the Hero’s Journey (the monomyth template). and I was somewhat of a contrarian, and said “can you give us examples of books that don’t fit into this template?” and she said “no. because all books fit.”
but I dunno man, I just finished reading this Korean book where the plot is just the character having a string of hookups and reflecting on them without changing in any way. I don’t know if it’s possible to contort that into the Hero’s Journey.
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softaestluv · 3 months ago
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Simon Riley who is just a little confused when he receives a drunk phone call from you one night, his sweet sergeant, hiccuping and giggling over your words— ‘Hi—Sir, could you come pick me up—up from the club? ‘m a little drunk.’
But he threw on his sweats anyways, was in his car without a second thought. Shoving random strangers out of the way as you clung to his bicep within minutes, trying his best not to push his arm deeper against your soft breasts and stomach.
When the two of you finally made it outside, he’s entirely too relieve to pry himself from your grasps, cool his burning skin in the fresh air. But when his focus finally drifts to your figure, scantily clad, irritation pulses his temples.
“Why the hell did’ya call me? You ain’t got any friends?”
You giggled, slurring over your words as you pushed to your tippy toes, leaning closer to his face, and crossing your hands behind your back.
“You’re my lieutenant, aren’t you? You’re supposed to take care of me.”
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yaraef · 3 months ago
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Rancilda from Team StarKid's Cinderella's Castle.
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raynewolferune · 2 months ago
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Batmobile Conversations as Heard by a Fast-food Drive Thru Cashier
Batman: "No."
Red Robin: "But what if -"
Batman: "No."
Red Robin: "But I could -"
Batman: "No."
Red Robin: "What if I -"
Robin: "Cease this Neanderthal behavior at once! You cannot be a Red if you are dressed entirely in Green!"
~*~*~
Red Hood: "You're not my fucking father!"
Batman: "The paperwork says otherwise."
Red Hood: "Fucking where, Bitch! I'll burn them!"
Batman: "You'd still be grounded and for even longer if you did."
~*~*~
Batman: "Please tell me you have a Signal action figure now?"
Drive Thru Cashier: "I'm afraid Riddler high jacked the truck they were supposed to be on. We haven't got any in yet."
Batmn: *long heavy sigh* " Of course he did."
~*~*~
Red Hood, driving the batmobile for some reason: "I need 10,000 of one of literally anything you carry other than the Night Wings. I literally don't carry what it is."
Signal: "And one order of Robin Nuggets."
Red Hood: "And one order of Robin Nuggets. We Are Robin limited edition version if you have it."
~*~*~
Nightwing, driving the batmobile for some reason: "I need 6 orders of Night Wings, please."
Red Robin: "There are only two of us? And I don't want Night Wings?"
Nightwing: "Nah, that just cause Hood's trying to steal my lead. I'll get you anything you want other than the Caped Crusader Sandwhich though."
~*~*~
Batman: "No, you may not borrow the Batmobile."
Robin: "It's a right of passage!"
Batman: "You are too young to have earned that right yet."
Spoiler: "Ha! He called you a baby!"
~*~*~
Spoiler, driving the batmobile for some reason: "Do you guys have any glitter?"
Drive Thru Cashier: "Ma'am, this is a fast food restaurant."
Spoiler:
Spoiler: "How many packets of ketchup, mustard, and mayonnaise can you legally give me?"
Drive Thru Cashier:
Drive Thru Cashier after checking with the manager: "50 packets of each."
Spoiler: "I'll take them!"
~*~*~
Robin, driving the batmobile clearly without permission: "I require 2 Robin Meals. One vegan."
Superboy the 2nd: "Oh! I want a Red Hood toy!"
Robin: "What?! Absolutely not! We will take the current Robin toy! A Nightwing if that's not available!"
Superboy the 2nd: "NOOO! I WANT RED HOOD!"
Red Hood, apparently in the back seat of the batmobile: "Dear God. MAKE IT 4 ROBIN MEALS, PLEASE, ANS GIVE THEM BOTH WHAT THEY WANT SO THEY SHUT UP."
Superboy the 2nd happily: "As long as I get my Red Hood."
Robin grumbling: "Ridiculous. Stop acting so thirsty for it."
Red Hood: *strangled, choking noises*
Superboy the 2nd: *mortified squeal* "ROBIN! That is NOT what that MEANS!"
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inkskinned · 2 years ago
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because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.
you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.
you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.
don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.
if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.
you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:
how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!
aren't you happy yet?
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lazylittledragon · 2 years ago
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made a sticker for anyone to slap onto their work if they need to
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katsinspats · 7 months ago
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Tragic: Guy you based your entire villain backstory on doesn't even remember you
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reinbouxsworld · 7 months ago
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twisted wonderland × kimetsu no yaiba (au!)
based on this post here.
I this this on a a japanese song only playlist and a wave of hiperfixation. So heres the context: Yuno (Yuu) and Leona were newly married and lived on his family’s land. On the night after the Town Below festival, Yuno returned home to find not only her husband’s family dead but also her younger brother, Grimm. Leona was the only one still alive, but as she tried to lead him down the mountain, she discovered that he was no longer human.
Silver, a demon slayer, confronted Leona. However, after witnessing him protect Yuno, he chose to spare the newly turned demon’s life, and send the couple to his master, Lilia.
Vil and Rook are the Tamayo and Yuuchiro of this universe. Vil lived more than 300 years only on serving face and hate, nonetheless showed kindness by helping Yuno and Leona after their encounter with the Demon King.
Ace and deuce are both slayers, one ranking above yuu. The three met during a mission, and the two decided to stick by her side from that point on.
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littlelightfish · 1 year ago
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This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.
Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.
Idk, I love this man so much...
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soldrawss · 7 months ago
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Something something 16yo 2k12 Mikey gets sucked into a portal and sent into the RISE universe and ends up helping raise the RISE kiddos AU
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yandere-wishes · 7 months ago
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⭒ㅤׂ Do You Think We'll Be In Love Forever? ㅤׂ ⭒
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⭒⌒★ Yandere!DC Men x Reader ★⌒⭒
゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 ♡ 。 ゜
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​𓆩☾𓆪 Nightwing - Dick Grayson | بالشب - دیک گریسون
He's mesmerized by the sight of you between his arms. Definite little doll smiling up at him through tear-soaked eyes. He floods your essence with saccharine kisses, sweet vows, and anguished 'I love yous' all paying testimony to his sugar-laced obsession. He's desperate to taste your sweetness on his tongue, lick through your flesh like a lollipop, and unravel your bones with his teeth.
He had been so young once, chasing virtue and strength into every dark alleyway, following bats and hope into vicious nights. Back then, he hadn't understood his mentor's desperation for paper-thin kisses and phony love. But now feeling the push of your body beneath his fingertips makes him understand how satisfying real love can be. To observe you in the sun's gentle rays. To feel your body curled next to his on cold nights. He plays hero under the moon's watchful gaze only to return home to you upon daybreak.
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❀࿔ Red Hood - Jason Todd | نقاب قرمز - جیسون تاد
He glides your fingers across his scars, shuddering under the weight of your touch. Stardust cauterizes ancient wounds, licking away the rotten grime. Jason clenches his teeth, there's something so intimidating about the softness of your touch. It stings worse than any crowbar or bullet wound, intruding, harrowing. It's almost like you're plucking the constellations of his past from under his skin, trying to rearrange the stars into something cathartic.
He can't help the hapless way his nails scratch across your bones, the gurgling laugh that escapes his throat. You're Elizabeth Lavenza and Ophelia trying to mend a broken boy, with your wry smile and terrified eyes. Jason traces his lips across yours, his kiss is ravenous, frantic. Faux-hero desperate for an inkling of love, of bliss, of softness.
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´ཀ` Arkham Knight - Jason Todd | سلحشور آرکام - جیسون تاد
He likes to think he's shed his human skin long ago. Left it to die in that burning warehouse with his old mask and youth. But when he hears your laughter, that haunting echo reverberates off the edifice walls. He can't help but think maybe, just maybe a trace of humanity still lingers beneath his armor. Your smile glares at him in every carmine puddle he treks through. He dreams it's your blood marring his gauntlets, syrupy sweet as he licks them clean. Daydreams about your ethereal face painted in reds and purples by his iron-clad hands.
His kisses are razor blades cutting through your lips, forcing his love down your throat, and watching as you choke on the rust and ache. He's trying to merge two bodies into one void, to engulf you. Mirror his scars upon your flesh with dull knives and jagged fingernails. He kisses you again, you swear you're going to drown in his sea of red. Maybe that's all the love he has left. He
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。♦。 Red Robin - Tim Drake | رابین قرمز- تیم دریک
He plays hero in the night, little bird chasing villains and evil by moonlight. When he blinks it's you he sees lying on the couch watching TV. He's starting to think you're his favorite show, afterall your window is about the size of a flat-screen TV and he's always too eager to peak through for the next screening. Episode 84, you're hugging your favorite teddy bear, lost in euphoria as your knuckles turn white around the controller. Tim watches heart in his throat as you claw out the boss's eyes. Sanctimonious champion vying to save the holy princess.
Tim bites his fingers, addresses each tooth mark to you. He pens his love letters upon his own skin, sealing them in red when he finally punctures through. Maybe life is just a video game, an endless kaleidoscope of cutscenes. And he's just a besotted hero dying to kiss the precious princess who doesn't even know he exists.
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ꨄ︎ Robin - Damian Wayne| سینه‌سرخ - دامیان وین
His heritage pounds between his bones. The deja vu of an ancestral lifetime runs rapid through his veins as he chases you across the rooftops. His father, his mother, his brothers, always chasing, running after things they know they'll never reach. Your blades clash against his and Damian can't help but wonder if this is the closest he'll ever get to kissing you.
You leave him with paper cuts that feel like venom, like saying 'I love you' while chewing on his bones. He ponders, does his father have the same scars, if Damian pulled away Bruce's skin what would he find? Kittycat claws and dragon bites engraved in the nth-wielded ivory. He feels legacy clawing at his throat as he pictures your fingers between his teeth. Tears blooming in your eyes as he uses diamonds and ceremonial knives to engrave his name upon your flesh. Dotting the I with a heart and entwining each letter. God, he's so tired of being lonely...
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🦇 Batman - Bruce Wayne | بتمن - بروس وین
He can't help but pick you apart, chip away at the bones and flesh until he reaches your essence. Dissecting your heart with his tongue and savoring the ichor between his teeth. He's the world's greatest detective and yet he can't unravel his own ardor. This mania, this addiction festering within his crux gnawing at his sanity until every thought is consumed by the cadence of your voice and the stars scintillating in your big doe eyes. This desperate need burning inside of him are you really divinity? Will you bleed glod, if he tears you apart with his teeth?
You're so ethereal squirming beneath, kicking and screaming vying desperately for freedom. He's fought this love for far too long, tried to preserve you in the light. Cover your eyes and ears and make you forget about the monsters that roam in the dark. But he can't not anymore, maybe he never could. Maybe the only way he knows how to love is by trickling his darkness like nectar between your lips and watching as it paints you in his shades.
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ᯓ★ Superman - Clark Kent | سوپرمن - کلارک کنت
His kisses melt into your skin sweet like molten sugar drizzled on jasmine rice. Like lava smothering roses, leaving a trail of fragranced ashes. Clark smiles and he notices how you cover your eyes. Like you're staring directly into the sun. Like you're scared of being burnt. Clark can't help but bury his head in the crock of your neck, inhaling your ather. Molten roses and floral ashes he likes the amalgamate of your scents. Like how his presence lingers upon you.
He holds you like a doll, like the little straw dolls his mother used to make. It's easy to be gentle, coddling when everything is so fragile compared to you. He kisses down your neck, your jaw, nuzzling his nose into your soft skin, trying to earn a giggle a gold star. Trying to wipe the fear from your eyes. He kisses you again, mumbling cloying words between your lips, wishing he could just push his love between your fragile bones.
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˚✶˚ Superboy - Conner Kent | سوپربوی - کانر کنت
He's fighting back the urge to peel your heart from between your ribs. To trail kisses across it and marr his lips with your ether. He wonders if your heart beats as frantically as his. He wonders if your ribs rattle when he enters a room.
He wants to push little superboy earings into your ears, to lay upon you the piercings he could never have. It'll be his way of telling the world you belong to him, that you belong to Superboy. And yet he settles for draping his leather jacket across your shoulders when senses a shiver run up your spine. He settles for the friendly hugs and airy hello-kisses. He wants to say he's he loves you. he can't. It's all so annoying, tasting the dead words on his tongue.
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𓂃✮ Superman - Jon Kent | سوپرمن - جان کنت
He's scaping his nails along the Hershey's kisses re-aligning the red blue and gold wrapping. It'll be obvious, right? If he leaves them in your locker you'll understand the colored metaphor you'll answer the question he can never ask. You'll know it's him, everyone always does, for the byproduct of the world's greatest hero, he's terrible at keeping his identity a secret.
He blames it on the legacy flooding his lungs. On the promises that beat in his blood. He's born to be a hero, to play the role of savior, but aren't heroes promised love too? Aren't they meant to save the girl from burning skyscrapers and crumbling sidewalks, to fly above the skyline and kiss her in tune with the setting sun? He's so desperate for the sweet fairytale ending, so desperate to kiss the girl who always knows just what to say. He leaves the chocolate in your locker before making a dent in the metal door.
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˚。⋆🪙⋆ ˚。 Two Face - Harvey Dent | دو چهره - هاروی دنت
He can taste your pain on his tongue, swallow the barbed wire, and relish in the familiar sting of hope, expectation, responsibility. Maybe that's why he can't stop himself from chasing after you. Burning the world demanding you stop him, desperate for a silver of your deficit attention. God, you're so ethereal with his gun aimed at your head, his pretty little girl with big starry eyes laced with dread as they follow the cascade of his coin. 'I know' he wants to scream 'I know what it feels like' but the words never quite spill out that way. And Harv only laughs at his foolish attempts to play hero once more. Sanctimonious bastard, the words reverberate in his skull.
You may claim to be a hero but Two-face knows you'll fall, plunder to the ground like all the rest, that's what happens when you reach for the sky, deem yourself Icarus, and let the flames of glory engulf you until there's nothing left. 'You can't save them' Harv screams only for Harvey to hear. They want to get closer, to slip the coin between your lips and make you taste defeat, maybe then you'll understand why he's so keen on fighting you out of your crusade. Maybe then you'll take their hand willingly, letting them sprinkle kisses across your knuckles like dying stars.
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˙⋆☠︎︎⋆˙ Black Mask - Roman Sionis | نقاب سیاه - رومن سیونیس
He wants to cut out your big heart and sink his teeth into it, engrave himself in every vein, and chew on the heartstrings. HIM he needs to be the only one in that plushie heart of yours. The only one with the right to be graced by your ethereal smile. He wants to awaken to your soft nimble fingers tracing hearts and stars across his chest. Pretty pink lips weaving feathery kisses across the scar of his pacemaker. Giggles tickling his neck as you bid him 'good morning' in that all too cheery voice of yours.
Roman almost moans as he hears his name spill from your mouth, each letter cradled carefully between your lips he can't help but want to push his thumb inside your mouth, to feel your purity and shock. There's so much he wants to call you so much he wants to whisper in your ear as he watches your cheeks glow red. To hold you in his lap and trail his fingers across your legs, to dress you in pretty dresses and short skirts and skin-tight tops. To taste the fear and dread on your tongue palpable like the blood he draws with every kiss.
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༄✩༄ Scarecrow - Jonathan Crane | مترسک - جاناتان کرین
He likes the stars in your eyes, the mini constellations spelling out your greatest fears. The tears blooming in the corners of your dopey eyes have his lips twitching. You're so gorgeous like this, curled up on the floor trying to make sense of such an eerie world. Jonathan doesn't anoint himself a fool, he knows it's chimeric to think that you'd love him without the toxin, without the heavy drugs he's spilled into your veins. That's why he keeps you like this, scared and depressed. Always in need of him.
What's your greatest fear? He wonders when you tuck your head between your knees and sob all so quietly as to not disturb him. Is it him you see in your grandest nightmares? Is it the mask jumping at you from within the darkness, or is it Professor Crane abandoning you in such a macabre world? Mask on mask off it makes no difference. He just hopes he's the star of every nightmare, as long as you fear him as much as he fears losing you.
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。??。 Riddler- Edward Nygma| ریدل - ادوارد نیگما
It's frivolous to think he will not solve this riddle. That he will no unearth this plague you have bestowed upon him. This fixation, this obsession, he needs to understand you, to peel away your skin and glimpse at your inner clock workings. To undo your screws one by one and find out what exists between that haunting laugh and those knowing vicious eyes. To rip apart your wires, and feed upon your mind. To understand, he needs to understand you.
He got close once when he had your neck under his shoe, but the evil lith of your laughter rings across the room and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't unnerved. He doesn't know what question to ask first. 'what have you done to me'? 'why do you think you're better than me?', 'Why don't you love me?' Instead, the silence shatters with your voice, proud melody rivaling his own, your eyes lock on him and he can't suppress his shutter. "Well Eddie, riddle me this. What can kill any man, but isn't even alive itself?"
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⁺♡⁺ Deathstroke - Slade Wilson | مرگ سکته - اسلید ویلسون
You're like a shooting star, dancing across the night as you stalk his latest kill. Little asssasin, you know your stuff but he finds your thirst for ineage and morality both exhausting and honorable. Most people grow up and spit out their morals with blood and broken teeth. Let the world's cruel realities claw and gnaw at their skin until it's hardened enough to survive. He's yet to see you extend such a courtesy to the world, makes him think that pulling the trigger on you would be some sort of mercy. Bullet through the heart leaving your body coated in his essence and one final kiss pressed onto your paling lips.
He dosen't notice the inkling of you rattling around in his brain until he realizes that this is the eighth him he's seen you smile at the end of his barrel. Pretty little girl chasing after morals and sand, hoping to escape the endless night by spilling just a little more guilty blood. You look like some sort of ethereal doll, immortal in your innocence and vicious in your virtues. He can respect that, truly but Slade isn't naive enough to think you have what it takes to survive. Maybe that's why he wants all so badly to feed you his victim's hearts and eyes and livers, to push them past your pretty lips, staining them the deepest red. Watching your delicate throat constrict as you swallow everything he gives you. Reveling in the sensation of your greedy little tongue swirling around his fingers licking up the access gore. Can almost picture your smile and stupid little head tilt as you thank him for the 'candygrams'.
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⭑.ᐟ Respawn | احیا
Respawn drowns in his love. Pulling apart his heart to lay at your feet. It's all he's ever known, broken boy built to harvest spare parts. But you don't look at him like that, you don't even look at him like an assassin. No, you smile fondly as you nuzzle his neck with your nose. You look at him the way his father used to, like he's actually worth something more. He's never quite kissed you, he's not even sure he knows how. Instead, he holds you close to his chest making sure you hear the dull patter of his jagged heart.
He's born from greatness, left to rot in the dark. He refuses to play pawn, anymore. So maybe that's why, when he finally kisses you -with all the grace of a schoolboy's first kiss- it's so desperate and erratic, clumsily licking your lips and nicking his tongue along your teeth trying to think what his father would do. His fingers dig into your arms, preassing prayers into your flesh, screaming 'Don't leave me, you're all I have left'.
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⭑☽ Ghost-Maker - Minhkhoa "Khoa" Khan | روح ساز - مینه خوا "خوا" خان
There's nostalgia in your essence, in your presence, something he can never wash away. He's grown addicted to the erratic reverbate of your pulse between his teeth. Kissing the bites he leaves marring your perfect body.
Why can't you just love him, let him haunt your every thought, and erode those pesky creeds, until he is the only thing you'll ever need? Khoa hates to admit it but he sees something in you, something so reflective of the little boy laying in the sand of the gobi desert, shooting phantom bullets and mocking stars. You scream every time he kisses you, recoil your tongue, and cry at the bitterness sweeping in. But Khao loves the challenge, the fight, loves forcing you into submission, even as your knife digs between his ribs. He's only ever content when your pith floods his mouth and your melodic voice rings through his ears. His precious little princess tucked away between his arms forever.
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☾⋆ Phantom-one | روح یک
he never shows you his face. He blames it on his upbringing too used to old rules that he can never escape their clutches not even for you. His kisses are always clouds dancing across your skin, so light and airy they may as well be the wind. But tries to leave traces of himself with every kiss. Desperate pleas for you to look at him, to touch him, to love him back. All so he knows he's alive, still real enough to love.
He's always trapped between the land of the living and the realm of the deceased. Always so gentle with the love he's stolen, so careful to not break his lover, as his mentor did to him. He laces his fingers through your hair, sucks gently on the length of your neck, all while pushing 'I love yous' into your soul, marking you as his forever.
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elodieunderglass · 2 years ago
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changes and trends in horror-genre films are linked to the anxieties of the culture in its time and place. Vampires are the manifestation of grappling with sexuality; aliens, of foreign influence. Horror from the Cold War is about apathy and annihilation; classic Japanese horror is characterised by “nature’s revenge”; psychological horror plays with anxieties that absorbed its audience, like pregnancy/abortion, mental illness, femininity. Some horror presses on the bruise of being trapped in a situation with upsetting tasks to complete, especially ones that compromise you as a person - reflecting the horrors and anxieties of capitalism etc etc etc. Cosmic horror is slightly out of fashion because our culture is more comfortable with, even wistful for, “the unknown.” Monster horror now has to be aware of itself, as a contingent of people now live in the freedom and comfort of saying “I would willingly, gladly, even preferentially fuck that monster.” But I don’t know much about films or genres: that ground has been covered by cleverer people.
I don’t actually like horror or movies. What interests me at the moment is how horror of the 2020s has an element of perception and paying attention.
Multiple movies in one year discussed monsters that killed you if you perceived them. There are monsters you can’t look at; monsters that kill you instantly if you get their attention. Monsters where you have to be silent, look down, hold still: pray that they pass over you. M Zombies have changed from a hand-waved virus that covers extras in splashy gore, to insidious spores. A disaster film is called Don’t Look Up, a horror film is called Nope. Even trashy nun horror sets up strange premises of keeping your eyes fixed on something as the devil GETS you.
No idea if this is anything. (I haven’t seen any of these things because, unfortunately, I hate them.) Someone who understands better than me could say something clever here, and I hope they do.
But the thing I’m thinking about is what this will look like to the future, as the Victorian sex vampires and Cold War anxieties look to us. I think they’ll have a little sympathy, but they probably won’t. You poor little prey animals, the kids will say, you were awfully afraid of facing up to things, weren’t you?
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artsymeeshee · 7 days ago
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(T▽T)
(As always DON’T tag as ship :T)
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