#no idk how this would work either. but its too good of an idea so its happening now idec

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[hexados-on-a-string]

her: they're probably thinking abt other women

me: at the end of episode 52 of nv when everyone's saying goodbye, helios and drago talk abt hopefully the next time they meet they'll still be friends and be on the same side. when spectra shows up again in ms he tells them that yes they're still friends and on the same side, however when he comes back the brawlers are falling apart and dan has a link to magmel and is also generally being a Huge Jerk™, which might be an understatement. bringing back spectra during this arc was a brilliant idea bc other than being the writers' clear favourite, nv already set up parallels between dan and spectra and the contrast between how dan's acting and how even spectra of all people is actually disturbed and concerned by it shows how bad the situation has actually gotten.

[akechi-stole-my-heart]

what if. i gave pt!sachiko a palace.

[be-good-to-bugs]

AAAAH forever stress is going to kill me one day

[transzilla]

How To Suck Roid Clit and Tdick Like A 6Gal Bauer ShopVac

So I'm a trans man and I fucking love trans men and they love fucking me. I minored in t4t gay sex in college and giving head has always came very naturally to me as a specialty, administering orgasms has never been an issue but a lot of people have difficulty figuring tdick out after going on testosterone or figuring themselves out and don't know how to get dudes to pop off which is tragic to me. Plus we don't really have like... sex ed about how to do that so it's not like you can pick up a book. But that's what you have me for. If you suck at giving head I'm gonna teach you how to suck the rest of someone's life away.

So everyone is different, growth might look different on different people and sometimes you'll have somebody who has difficulty popping off just cause of weird nerve endings, obviously listen to what your partner tells you and what works for them because they're going to know better. I've been around with a lot of different men and this is just what's worked for me, if you try it and its TERRIBLE then don't think you're broken or whatever, our willies are just as diverse as we are :)

Generally though tdick kind of resembles a tiny penis especially when you've been on T for a long time. Personally I've been on T for five years and have a 2 inch monster and you can kind of see where the head would be vs the foreskin or whatever. Like my favorite analogy is that it looks like a .45 caliber bullet because that's what my dick looks like when I'm looking down, lol.

Like the cap on the bullet would be the "head" and the cartridge casing is the length of the thing. Like on a guy's dick idk if anybody is getting tdick circumcized so when he's soft the skin will come up and guard the head/clit part because it's sensitive, you're going to want to find the head and kind of gently push past the skin with your tongue or your finger. Like get it on the head because largely that's the most sensitive part of his dick. when it gets bigger it kind of gets less sensitive, and you can't just rub the whole thing like on a clit off testosterone, uniform pressure might not always work. So keep your finger on the pulse, lol.

The simplest motion tht you can do, like a good part to lick on is right where the head meets the rest of his dick. There's almost a seam, kind of like on that bullet. Just rub in little circles with your tongue. Start gentle, gauge his reaction, and then go a little harder or a little faster. Also stay in one place once you get into a groove, the more you rub on one spot the more sensitive and the better it will feel.

On the very APEX tip of his dick is where most of the nerves are bundled it's going to be the most sensitive, so if you want to make him jump or if he's not very sensitive rub there, lol.

Also, once you get that down, you can suck too! You want to make a seal with your lips around his dick, almost like you're pulling on a cigarette, or like you're sucking your lips on a peach to keep the juices from falling out. This intensifies it if his dick is not sensitive and keeps it in one place if he has a big dick.

If he likes penetration fingering him at the same time is not a bad idea either.

Also, mind the teeth, lol.

[emo-batboy]

Battinson on SNL

Idk how popular Saturday Night Live is outside of the US so there will be some links for context. That said, as a New Jersey native, I think Battinson would totally watch the show. And since he's a celebrity...👀

SO

To promote WE’s newest charity fund, Alfred signs Bruce up to be a guest host on SNL (à la this post) The announcement is made, and everyone’s like “oh this is going to be a disaster. That man can’t even hold eye contact or speak a full sentence without crying.”

But oh, that’s why it’s so funny.

Now, hear me out. Bruce’s strengths are displayed best when he’s himself. That’s why he’s so popular in Gotham. That’s why the internet calls him Relatable TM and a Disaster (Affectionate) and “Poor Little Meow Meow.” It’s his ✨ essence ✨

But he tends to get overwhelmed or self-conscious onstage, right? Because he can’t be Himself himself if he has time to overthink something. So after a few meetings with Bruce, the writers of SNL figure out the perfect way to keep Bruce from getting anxious.

They decide to load this episode with as many skits where Bruce plays different caricature-like versions of himself as possible. The objective? Make him break character and laugh so he doesn’t overthink. And if he breaks character, he’ll still technically be in character because he’s playing himself, you know? Genius.

So that’s how they go about structuring the show. During the few days they have to write, they decide to take everything about Bruce’s public image and either ramp it up to 11 or turn it on its head.

He speaks quietly? Turn it into a running gag. He dresses in all black? Make him emo. He tips well? Add that in too. He’s “depressed” and “sad?” Literally, all he does on screen is laugh and break character. What’s not to love?

Of course, Bruce also gets to decide what skits are in each episode as well. (Refer to this if you have no idea how SNL works.) He loves the idea, though, and he has a surprisingly dark sense of humor which bleeds into some of the sketches. They add in a few skits without him, and they’ve got their lineup.

It’s the wildest episode of the season. Here are the highlights:

OPENING MONOLOGUE

It’s the big night, everyone’s excited to see Bruce Wayne hosting a live sketch comedy show with no idea how it will turn out.

To begin his monologue, Bruce walks on, opens his mouth to start talking, and immediately two cast members appear as stagehands to set up six microphones in front of him. He is already struggling to keep himself together.

Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m host- Cast Member: *adds one more tiny microphone to his chest* Bruce: “You may be wondering why I’m hosting tonight.”

It’s working. The audience loves it.

Halfway through, Kate McKinnon comes out in a dark cloak with a chalice. “Your sustenance, my lord.” *sees camera* “Oh. Sorry. Carry on.” And she shambles off. Bruce has to take a second before continuing.

Bruce knows when (most of) the jokes come. It’s literally on the cue cards, but he still falls into a fit of giggles.

There are a few more gags, including Lex Luthor peeking out from behind the band set-up, all teasing the show to come.

Overall, an amazing way to set the tone for the episode. Expectations have been set. Then the skits begin!

(Oh but before I forget: During every single live skit with Bruce, the writers have scheduled for one of the cast members to run in dressed as a stagehand and put an extra mic on him. They do not tell him when it will happen.)

SKIT #1

Between the monologue and the first skit, he has to do a really fast quick change, but to everyone’s surprise, Bruce is a natural. (Huh, wonder why.)

The skit is called Gotham PTA Meeting. We open in a meeting room full of stereotypical PTA moms setting down baked goods and gossiping. And apparently, there is a new PTA member attending today 👀

Right as the meeting starts, he enters. Bruce walks in wearing the most emo get-up imaginable. He’s got a Nirvana shirt, a comical amount of eyeliner, black skinny jeans, chain accessories, metal rings, AND a clip-in extension to give him fringe.

Someone immediately runs in and puts another mic on him.

PTA Mom: “Oh, Bruce! You made it! Did you bring a snack?” Bruce: “I brought lemon bars.” PTA Mom: “Why are they black?” Bruce: “They match my soul…they’re also vegan.”

He talks like a moody teenager. HE CONSTANTLY has to brush the fringe off to the side to read the cue cards. And because there’s so much eyeliner and he’s sweating a bit from the lights, it starts running everywhere.

PTA Mom: “Bruce, you’re a little quiet. What are your thoughts on increasing the school lunch budget?” Bruce: *eyeliner dripping down his chin* “I think it’s a great idea.”

SKIT #2

For a pre-filmed skit, they bring back the Chad character with Pete Davidson.

It’s 2 am, and Chad is working at a 24hr drug store in Gotham. He’s reading Twilight (the book is upside down) when the lights begin to flicker.

He turns around and tries the light switch, turns back around, and JUMPSCARE it’s Bruce dressed as Edward from Twilight.

Yes, he IS sparkly.

Bruce is awkwardly holding a bunch of items, all concerning. He plops down a few knives, several raw meats, Sudafed. Chad: “Oh hey.” Bruce: O_O “I’d like to check out please.” Chad: “Lit.”

Chad’s “No Fucks Given” energy and Bruce’s “Please Do Not Perceive Me” energy clash like titans. The whole skit centers around it.

Bruce: *sweating bullets* “Oh. You’re reading Twilight?” Chad: “Just the title.” Bruce: *throws the book through the window at lightning speed* “It’s not very good. You should probably read something else.” Chad: *shrugs* “Okay.”

Chad: “ID?” Bruce: “ID? For what?” Chad: “Sudafed.” Bruce: “Oh. I don’t really need that, actually.” Chad: “Already scanned it.” Bruce: “Haha. Of course.” *awkwardly produces a scroll from his pocket that says Bruce Wayne DOB: 1901* Chad: “Okay.”

Bruce checks out, Chad picks up a porno mag or something, and we see Bruce turn into a bat and fly off through the window behind him.

SKIT #3

The next skit they have is Celebrity Family Feud: Billionaires Edition. Again, Bruce plays himself, but he’s more of a background character. Instead, the skit makes fun of billionaires as a whole.

Bruce’s team consists of Kylie Jenner, Lex Luthor, and Oliver Queen. So just imagine three Lucille Bluths standing beside one another. 

Bruce’s bit? He just keeps handing cash to Steve Harvey every time he breathes in his direction.

Host: "We got the richest man in the world: Bruce Wayne!" Bruce: *hands him a roll of cash* Host: "Oh, what’s this for?" Bruce: "It’s your tip. I always tip." Host: "Oh, Mr. Wayne, you don’t usually tip the show host. I’m also a millionaire myself." Lex Luthor: *snatches it* "Well, if you’re not going to use it, I will…for charity, of course." Host: "Uh huh, whatever helps you sleep at night."

Just a ton of fun quips, the usual.

At some point, Harvey says, “That’s batty.” Bruce: *ducks* “Where?!” Host: “Oh, I don’t mean Batman. He’s not here.” Bruce: “You don’t know that.”

This time, the mic bit is a bit different.

Host: “We asked 100 billionaires: How much does a loaf of bread cost? Top three answers are on the board.” Bruce: *hits buzzer* Host: Bruce, your answer is? Cast Member: *runs in with a megaphone and holds it in front of Bruce* Bruce: “TEN DOLLARS?”

Board dings! That was the #1 answer

Brucie Wayne for the win

SKIT #4

Next is a skit that dares to ask Gotham, “Why would anyone live here?”

The skit begins with someone opening a press conference for Wayne Enterprises. “And now presenting: Bruce Wayne!” Bruce walks in…

But it’s not him. Instead, it’s one of the cast members dressed in a black suit with horribly gelled brown hair.

Everyone in the audience is wondering where the actual Bruce is before another cast member runs onstage crying, “Help! Help! I’ve just been robbed! Somebody call Batman!”

A mini version of the bat-signal lights up…

We hear some generic hero music play…

And there he is: Bruce Wayne dressed in a horribly cheap Batman costume

(They got the cowl ALL wrong btw)

Bruce puts his hands on his hips in a weird superhero pose. Bruce: “I’m Batm-” Cast Member: *runs out to attach another mic to his costume* Bruce: “….I’m Batman!”

Cue all of the gags and digs against Batman. The fake Bruce faints then starts crying under a table. Someone calls Batman a furry. Bruce is barely keeping it together the whole time. Lord help him, but he asked for it. He approved the skit.

Bruce: “Looks like a job for my bat taser!” Cast Member: “Isn’t that just a taser with a bat on it?” Bruce: *whispers* “You shut your mouth.”

He saves the day, the police take the thief into custody, then Batman myStErioUsly disappears. Bruce: “Look over there!” *runs off* Cast Member: “Oh my gooood, how did he do that?”

CLOSING SEGMENT

Finally, they have the Weekend Update where Bruce comes on as himself for the final time.

Since they got his permission, the writers switch out some of Bruce’s jokes last minute. (Think Bill Hader’s Stefon which notoriously caused him to break character because the writers would mess with his cue cards.)

News Anchor: “Here to promote his newest humanitarian project: Bruce Wayne!” “Mr. Wayne, what a pleasure to see you today.” Bruce: “Thank you. This is probably the longest I’ve been out of the house.” News Anchor: “Since the Riddler catastrophe?” Bruce: “Since ever.”

News Anchor: “So Mr. Wayne! Before you make your announcement, any life updates?” Bruce: “Yes, actually. Just a few days ago, I adopted five- *starts losing it* five more children.” News Anchor: “Wow, really? So you have eight kids now.” Bruce: “Uh huh. *tears streaming down his face* One more orphan and I get the tenth one free.”

News Anchor: “So where can people find you online?” Bruce: “Well, I don’t have social media because I’m afraid of people, but sometimes I’m on Twitter.” News Anchor: “What about a phone call?” Bruce: “Oh no, phone calls- *giggle* phone calls give me fainting spells.”

It’s a great way of finishing the show, with the most genuine version of Bruce. Then, he gets to what’s really important!

News Anchor: “So if they can’t reach you on social media or on the phone, what else can our viewers do, Mr. Wayne?” Bruce: “They can donate to the Wayne Foundation’s newest charity called The Arts Initiative. It funds programs for the arts in underdeveloped school districts nationwide. I’ve already donated $30 million, and I’ve pledged to match every dollar donated within the next week.”

And that’s what he’s here for :) They share a link for where and how to donate. The anchors praise him for his charity, which he deflects because he can definitely afford this, and the 90-minute broadcast is over.

The camera pans away with the whole cast waving goodbye, and Bruce is seen keeling over with laughter.

Along with some of the other skits, these four specifically go viral. WE raises a fuck ton of money, and everyone loves Bruce.

THE END

LOVE YOU ALL!! Let me know what you think :D

[reshinless]

☆ ❝ 𝐬'𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐜𝐫𝐲 ❞ ⋆ genshin x reader

synopsis. general nsfw hcs with wrio (i deleted the anon ask that asked this im so sorry aaahhh

warnings. 18+, nsfw, hair pulling, dacryphilia (the title, come on), threesome mentions

author's note. i saw a fanart about wriolette on tiktok so i had inspiration to answer the ask huhu

pairings. wriothesley x gn!reader (sub & dom!wrio + sub & dom!reader)

wriothesley has a habit of pulling your hair as he pounds his member inside you, and if you've really been that naughty, he'll make you read or help him with a few documents while holding your hips down onto his shaft, forcing you to take him all in :x

oh but don't get me wrong, he likes his hair getting pulled as well, or just like, play with it while he's giving you head cause i think personally he'd be into that.

has a thing for marking you one hundred percent, can't look at me in the eyes and say to me he wouldn't (probably unaware of when he does and how he does too i swear, will apologize afterwards lol)

unintentionally pushes your head while you suck him off, just feels that good.

^^ probably girth > length, like he'd be a good 5.5 inches when soft, maybe 6.5 inches when hard, 3 inches wide but hey yk its curved to the right a little so maybe its a bit longer than we think

likes eye contact while doing allat to you, thinks it's romantic an would like to keep his eyes locked with yours while you both feel pleasure

i think he'd also like quickies, but only when he's in a certain mood; that mood being stressed out or mad. like just quickly eats you out before going back to work

unknowingly and doesn't notice he goes too rough, although when you mention it, he'll try to slow down. keyword: try

lets neuvillette join in on the fun :p i don't have anything to add on to that

both probably really into double penetration too, so mmf ngh to them iykwim, they both get to have fun (or atleast one of neuvi's cocks bc personally i think he has two)

ok later on for neuvillette hcs, aside that,

erm, i think he'd personally have a size kink, whether it'd be you being smaller than him or larger and taller, either way he's like 'meow >_<'

giddy schoolgirl wriothesley when it comes to his s/o who's taller and stronger than him and can sweep him off his feet like a little princess

aside that again im getting carried away

he definitely has a temp(erature) kink, that cryo vision not there for nothing !!!!

uses his cryo powers to see you squirm on his lap while he signs a few stacks of paperwork, maybe even cockwarm him a little

aye to the sub wriothesley fans this one's for you; he def likes being pulled by a chain, i'm just saying i don't know man, consider the thought (he has literal chains on his outfit), and with that in mind, maybe getting handcuffed (you handcuff him) doesn't sound too bad

at first look, he's not a begger, like you look at him and probably think "why would he beg"

he begs no joke

will personally get on his knees, hell even all 4s if he that desperate to let him hit

even if he's not the one getting his back blown out he still louderrr than you are,

+ he's all for teasing, and overstimulation

i like to think he's just sooo whiny for you to just take it down your throat already seeing you just teasing his tip with small licks before taking it into your mouth, brushing your fingers against the base and to the shaft every now and then

more of a 'i'll eat my cum right back out you after releasing my load inside you' but he doesn't mind fingering your and his mixed liquids out your hole

idk im alreay burnt out and out of ideas

yippee!! jjk nsfw hcs soon :p

[wcbblife]

could you do paige with either a black gf or a volleyball player gf hcs??

Paige x Volleyball player!gf HCs

a/n: I've had this idea in the drafts for quite a bit of time. So glad you sparked my mind to finally finish it

Bit of background about you two ig:

What first stood out to Paige about you was the ability to absolutely spike the ball with an insane amount of power. The first time she saw you play she was with KK because they were both oh so bored on their free day. Next thing she knew you were elevating off the floor and slamming your palm against the ball with an insane amount of strength. They both let out a synched “DAMN” as the ball quickly made its way down to the floor with a resounding bang. One after the other, she was literally left with her jaw on the floor at how good you were and how you were able to carry the team to a flawless victory.

She definitely went home and searched all of your highlights, slowly being more and more captivated by how high you could jump and how fast you could react to get some saves. After that, she would literally make up the stupidest excuses to just see you absolutely dominate on the court.

Noticing her growing attendance, fans began to joke around on the internet (with pics and vids). You take notice of this. Especially on how she cheered extra hard whenever you helped on scoring a point.

Funny enough I think you two would meet in the library. She would pass you and the look on her face is hilarious (something between a mix of amazement, shock, and something else). She tries to stop the absolute sound of excitement that she wants to let out.

"Dude, you’re an awesome player.” She says, smiling super bright.

"Well if it isn’t my biggest fan” You tease. “But are you serious? You’re the cool one here.”

You both continue to absolutely geek out about one another and compliment the other's play style. It’s then that you find out that she absolutely loves when you spike.

You both get closer after one particular game where your famous strong spikes literally sealed the deal for the team to win. After a particularly impressive spike she literally jumped while screaming as loud as she could and you couldn't even deny that trying to ignore a tall blonde jumping erratically up and down was getting harder after each game. So you just turned towards her and pointed to mess with her. It worked though cuz Paige went absolutely crazy.

After that, you two started talking some more and you even started showing your face to some of her basketball games. And she asked you out after one of her hard games, caught up in the high of the game. You two immediately become the school's hottest topic after it.

Some actually normal HCs:

She absolutely is your biggest fan. No one ever cheers louder for you than Paige Bueckers.

Is eager to learn how to set for you so that she can help you with your spikes. Like seeing it first hand because it makes her feel so starstruck seeing it first hand.

Absolutely loves to play beach volleyball with you. Idk why she just seems like it.

Lovesssss to see you in your uniform. Especially with those shorts. Makes her go crazy.

Goes nuts when you react fast and save the ball. "YEAH BABY! YOU SHOW EM HOW ITS DONE!"

Will 100% challenge you to a 1v1 but immediately regret it as she watches you jump to slam the ball. “Chill! You're gonna kill me if you do that.”

She loves to learn and break down each set with you. Especially if you tell her it helps you better your game. And vise versa. You love to watch her games and hear her break down her own playing.

Outside of sports and school, Paige will literally show you off to everyone (like imagine a family Christmas party and she's literally holding someone hostage while showing them you play. “Isn't she awesome? I mean just look at her!").

Acts like a concerned mother whenever you fall one too many times in a game while diving to save the ball from touching the ground.

Loves it when you wink or smile in her direction while you're playing. It actually drives her a little crazy.

[c0smiclatt3]

DAN HENG: TELLTALE HEART.

☾₊ ⊹ TAGS: sfw, fake dating, friends to lovers, mentions and descriptions of blood, death/burial, and war, this could really just be its own fully blown fic idk what im doing here, this is definitely the start of ~something~ i just dont know what

wc: 2.2k

Dan Heng should have retaliated harder when Himeko had suggested this idea in the first place, but he made his stance very clear: he wasn’t cut out for this type of mission and it would likely end badly. But Himeko had only giggled from behind her teacup as she lifted it to her lips, the passing star systems twinkling mischievously behind her like the glimmer in her eye.

“Loosen up a little, Dan Heng,” she almost seemed to sing. “It would do you some good.”

“Surely you and Welt—“ But Himeko cut him off with an almost motherly tut. Dan Heng raked his mind for alternatives, but he worked with the data bank long enough to know this much: the Queen of this planet, a devotee of the fallen Idrila, had lived for a long, long time and had developed an almost perverse interest in the love affairs of humans to pass the eons. After all, what more ridiculous premise in the face of the endless onslaught of time and her immortality than some false promise of ‘forever’? Yes, human love was dramatic - and amusingly pointless. And the Queen revelled in it. Relished in it. Once upon a time the search for Beautiful Love was her devotion to her Aeon, a gift bestowed to her by Idrila themselves: to sustain herself with the heartbeats of her planet's people. For every heartbeat on the planet to resonate through her. The Beautiful Love, then, was something she too would know when she found it. But with the death of her God her mission was but an aimless pastime.

So Himeko and Welt, like two scheming parents, sent you and Dan Heng down to win her graces and grant you two access to the elusive secrets of her court. The goal was simple: put on a show. And make it good.

The two of you had been travelling alongside one another on the Express for a while, but as far as you both were concerned, nothing that would help this mission at all existed between you two. To be sure, you were friends, but that was about all there was to it. If anything, there was an almost brotherly feeling you got from Dan Heng, like a sibling eternally fussing over you or irritated by you or exasperated by you or all of the above all at once. You joined the Express crew before March. Dan Heng had already been there, and so you were his first companion closer to his age.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

When you joined the Express they picked you up from a war-torn planet, one of the only survivors and cowering in a corner of a ruin. Dan Heng remembers a fear in your wild eyes unlike anything he could comprehend. When you lifted your head you looked like prey meeting the eyes of the hunter, and you were ready to run. He remembers your hair matted in blood — whether your own or somebody else’s he couldn’t say, nor did he want to ask. He found you huddled with your knees to your chest. He remembers the way you feebly sprang from under the crumbling brick pile you called a ‘shelter’ and swung a glass shard at him like your life depended on it — perhaps in another situation it really did. Fresh blood poured down from your palm as the shard dug into your skin, your fist closing tighter and tighter around it, but you were running on pure adrenaline and fear. He ducked effortlessly as you cried out, either in fear or to muster the last of the strength left in your malnourished body. He grabbed your wrist, so brittle and weathered away by Gods-know-how-long you’d been on your own he almost feared he broke it. He could feel your hammering pulse in your wrist.

“Hey, hey,” he said, softer than anything he’d said before in his life. “You’re okay.”

Those eyes - gray like storming clouds, gray like the sky before it opened up to rain down fresh water, falling from the sky like liquid nectar from the gods, your mouth opening to drink what little you could gather. You didn't even realize you had been caught in a trance until he spoke again.

"Are you alone?"

If this stranger was your only hope you would take your chances. Before you could even open your mouth, the next thing you did was crumple to the ground and you fell with a soft thud. What you remembered after that was waking up on the Express, and those steely gray eyes you put your trust in peering at you over the infirmary bed, the infirmary lights so bright you took a moment to adjust.

"Do you remember your name?" he asked. You tried to form the syllables on your tongue but they only sat there, heavy and unmoving. A reminder of an identity that hurt too much to remember. Your mother calling you downstairs for breakfast. The children waving cheerily to you on the streets on your way out for the day. The old shopkeeper down the street in the evenings sneaking you a free sweet through the window to reward you for a long day's work. My name... You swallowed and shook your head. From across the room Welt smiled softly in encouragement more so than amusement.

"That works just fine. Namelessness is quite on-brand for us anyway."

You turn to look at your reflection in the medical equipment to your side. What you were greeted with was your entire face wrapped in bandages, wound over your forehead, your nose, your cheeks, your chin, something like the burial rituals performed on corpses back home. The sight horrified you as you reached up to try to claw the bandages off. Dan Heng reached for your wrist again.

"Don't. It'll only make it worse."

He pitied you. He really did. To be taken from such extreme circumstances and slowly coming to your senses like this, you were like a caged animal cowering back against a corner. Like each time he drew near you would hiss and retreat or snap back at him.

There was no use trying not to cry. This young man had already seen you at your worst. You hung your head low as he held your wrist and wept and wept and wept.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

The Express gave you a purpose, and Gods knew you needed one. You joined without a second thought, and it took months for you to regain some semblance of normalcy. You slowly crawled out of your shell. Pom Pom was too strange for you to get used to. Welt and Himeko, as nurturing as they were, were always a bit too keen to converse for your comfort.

Dan Heng was different. He let you sit in the same room as him without a need to talk. Your afternoons were spent in mutual but comfortable silence. The clicking of keys. Tapping of tablets. The occasional shuffling as he rolls his chair across the room to reach for a book. On days like these you huddled in a corner on a cushion, knees to your chest and a book in your lap. The next morning there would be a new book or two on your stack you didn't recognize from the evening before - a silent recommendation left behind by Dan Heng after noticing the books you seemed to take a liking to. Neither of you acknowledged this, only keeping to your routine.

When you lifted your head as he pulled something up on a data bank screen he always noticed and promptly explained what it was before ducking his head back down. Some rare plant species. Photographs of a temple on a faraway planet. He filled your head with knowledge of the cosmos, and it was amazing to you how boundless the universe really was, imagining that all this was just beyond you during those days on your home planet. He would be lying if he said he didn't find the little shine in your eyes endearing when you listened to him, and he appreciated finally having someone to talk to.

Considering all the records burned with your home planet, there was little Dan Heng knew about you. That was their business on your planet, really: to retrieve some lost records and fill in some blanks, but all they were able to recover was you. Welt and Himeko encouraged him to talk to you as a means to perhaps procure something productive. That was his work after all: collect, transcribe, record. It had always been a routine to him before, but with you it was something different. Watching you, Dan Heng saw the life and death of your planet in your every breath, your every sleep and wake. With your room beside his, he would hear how you cried in your sleep on occasion, tossing and turning and groaning names you wouldn't recall when you woke again. On occasion he pressed his ear to his wall, wondering if he should at the very least knock on your door. By the time he worked up the energy and the resolve, your nightmares grew less frequent.

This much he salvaged from your dazed mumblings: your homeland fell, and when it burned it blazed. And while it did, the Aeons watched it flicker away like another star among billions. You listened to his stories. You used them to replace all that you left behind you. Quiet nodding turned into soft “what’s that?”s, which turned into sneaking a snack in the corner, which turned into the two of you tussling as he tried to shove you out of the room (“Crumbs! They'll get all over the books!” he huffed. “No!” you protested, kicking and yelping until Himeko arrived to put a stop to it), which turned into you stepping into full-on mischief, some ghost of what you had before everything changed. March’s arrival didn’t help much, and soon Dan Heng took it upon himself to wrangle the two youngest (?) members of the Express crew. In a sort of way you two grew up together. In that sort of way, Dan Heng was fond of you.

・・・・☆・・・・☆ ・・・・

So when invited before the Queen you two bowed and you let Dan Heng do the talking, spinning the tale as effortlessly as he spun the stories of the cosmos for you: two outlanders, both faring from different planets, seeking temporary transit as they fared among the stars in search of their pasts together. This much was true. This much was enough to pique her interest. In her territory she could feel the thrumming of your heartbeats, and in her romanticism failed to detect that it was the thrill of deception - and not of some budding romance - that explained your quickening pulses. And you two knew each other just well enough to sell it the right way - you just had to keep it up for long enough.

You two knew each other just well enough that on your first day wandering alone in the local village you scouted the area for libraries, reliquaries and ruins. It wasn't until sundown, when you returned with a map marked out with all the locations to hand to him, that you realized you hadn't even considered what you might want to do yourself.

You two knew each other just well enough that when he returned from said libraries as per your recommendation he returned with a novel by an author you liked - an edition they hadn't yet bought for the Express.

And you two knew each other well enough that later that evening he knew exactly what was happening when he woke to hear you crying in your sleep. What you dreamed of, he didn’t know. But he could piece together enough of an idea.

“Hey,” he whispers, slowly sitting up from his mattress on the floor. “Hey…”

With the window curtain open and the moonlight on your face he could see your brows knitting together, the line of your lips curling into a pained expression as you twitched and groaned. For a moment he felt a little awkward, unsure of what to do with his hands, before he got up and walked to his bag. He knew when you had nightmares you wandered the Express train. And he knew when the main cabin was empty you put a particular record on the record player. He tinkered with his earpiece for a moment and inserted them into your ears. Your lips softened into a relaxed smile. He let out a breath and slumped on the floor against the bed frame.

The intention, romantic or platonic, mattered little. What mattered was the quickening and softening of your heartbeats were felt and duly noted, and the Queen invited you two to her ball, your shot at passage to her court. You had been surprised when the invitation came so suddenly. You held the card, embellished in a rose patterning around the edges, signed off with the Queen's curling signature.

"That was a lot faster than I thought it would be," you tilted your head, turning it in your hands. Dan Heng looked at you, sitting on the edge of the bed from across the room. He hid his face away behind his book. Only he had an inkling why this might have happened, but that he would never say.

writing masterlist | bot masterlist

☾₊ ⊹ AN: this started to go somewhere but i ended up hating it so i've just decided this is a prologue for something that might be longer but im just not sure what lol. i just needed to get this out cus it's been sitting in drafts for way too long and the idea of working on it for a minute longer makes me want to curl up and die. i hope u like it tho!

[bugsinshoes]

OKAYOKAYOKAYOAY SOOOOO

i CANNOT stop thinking about musical falls. GENUINELY. it rotted my brain. SO! i've spent a bit of time doodling and coming up with ideas for how BILL would be presented on stage.

firstly, we have 2-D Bill/Pre-Weirdmageddon Bill. the idea i had for this form is that we'd use a spotlight tinted with a yellow gel and on top of that there'd be a gobo (stencil) of Bill's triangular form.

(examples of how that'd look onstage)

pros- spotlights can effortlessly move around stage without physically interfering with actors, also it mirrors how in the show, he's limited to the mindscape and how he doesn't have a physical form yadda yadda yadda (you get my idea)

cons- not much movement/expression. also kind of a disembodied voice? Bill is very expressive so it'd be hard to showcase something like that on a cut out stencil of him.

ANOTHER IDEA (i just had now as i'm writing this): Bill projection !!

so, it'd be a projected image of Bill which would be able to be animated so THAT solves the issue of the previous idea. plus i'm sure there'd be a way to move the projection around the stage if needed.

uhhh anyways !! back to my original ideas !!!!

obviously everything i've just mentioned is for 2-D Bill, but HERE is where it gets exciting. when Bill gains his physical form during Weirdmageddon.

so, when Bill gains a physical form, i had 3 ideas:

IDEA 1- Lin Manuel Miranda as Bill.

now, in my previous post about musical falls, i was kind of /j ing the idea, but i think it'd be genuinely hilarious. imagine this, duing the whole musical, bill is this 2-dimensional projection, kinda eerie. makes you think "how is he gonna look once he gains a physical body?" then BOOM its Lin Manuel Miranda. obviously his costume would be a waistcoat and jacket combo (something similar to how i drew him in my past post) but yeah. that's really the only reason. it'd be funny. idk.

IDEA 2- Puppet Bill.

this Bill would be more canon-accurate, still in his triangle form, except he'd be puppeted by someone. now, this comes with the same problem as gobo-bill. LACK OF EXPRESSION. he's stuck to one emotion/"facial" expression. (also i have no idea how puppets work. if anyone with more knowledge than me wants to add on/constructively criticise, you're welcome to!) i didn't really expand/think too much about this idea either soooo.....

IDEA 3 (my favourite)-

drag. bill.

i really like this idea. now, i'm no costume designer, nor do i do drag (so apologies if i've gotten anything wrong) but i think this would be something really cool to see on stage. the shape language of the costume, alongside a gorgeous makeup look, AS WELL as it being a real person acting, really feels like a good direction to go in, as it would allow full movement, gestures, and expressions !! (hooray!!) also i really need to see an awesome Bill-inspired drag look onstage. it'd be awesome.

ANYWAYS THAT'S IT !! THOSE ARE MY IDEAS !!!

this is all for fun as i KNOW this won't ever become an IRL stage production (probably) but a guy can dream. i just had so much fun coming up with ideas for the heck of it sooo !!!

another MASSIVE thanks to @fordtato for making that video about musical falls. i think i'm obsessed.

AAAA THAT'S ALL !!!! :D

[ganondoodle]

no but, im kinda mad at how well that villain rauru idea is working, even together with most of the work i already did do for the first rewrite, like the thing with the shiekah using ganondorfs strong spirit to power their tech STILL WORKS, its just not the focus anymore, and its not just ganondorfs spirit, but raurus as well, rauru did this to contain gan bc rauru couldnt defeat him at that point- and he planned to return to rebuild his dreamland fantasy kingdom of light later

gan tried to break free from it using whatever means he had (miasma/malice- clamgan) taking over the guardians etc in botw (still out of revenge for being used as a power source by the ancient shiekah but not ONLY) being a way to bring attention to it, maybe to find out where the stones were held, to rebuild himself outside of his prison by any means necessary bc he knew if they both woke up fully rauru would begin his plan- it doesnt have to be that gan is goody two shoes good guy tm now, but he resistet rauru back then and is gonna do it again- and if he loses whatever was left of his body, yet his spirit remains, why wouldnt he team up with link and zelda- he cant do much as a spirit anymore but like thats gonna stop him from from fighting agaisnt his enemy

it would mean you arent one and doen in each region, but the mid point of the game flisp it around so much you have a reason to return to them again, i know backtracking isnt seen as something good all the time but ..... this would be so cool right?? and the yiga being at first an enemy and you get your fight against koga, but then after the turn you have them as allies??? and you get a cool fight against gan at the mid point too!! it can be a full fight at the end of which the reveal happens when zelda tries to intervene since she was with gan the whole time and knew what was going on and bc she has the stone still with her and then both gan and zelda are in the same room rauru goes for it since with zelda there who link trusts telling him the truth raurus gonna lose his tool (link) now anyway

the abilities i have to brainstorm again- but it could be that you get similar ones from rauru at first like i had in my first rewrite (like the hookshot or the energy infusion) like in a more sonau magicky way and after the turn point purah zelda with the help of gan rebuild it in shiekah tech, so you dont lose those abilities forever (just for that mid point reveal rauru fight you cant win) but get them back in a different way, maybe even upgradable now

the only thing that it gets fully rid of is the sages thing (they stil give you abilities in some way but not through the stones), the dragon stuff (which is a little sad but it would also keep the dragons from being something anyone can just be turned into- keeping their mystery alive) and the whole time travel stuff (GOOD i hate time travel)

POLL TIME

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[shakirawastaken]

dsmp if...they wanted to propose to you!

dsmp if... series goes wild  anyway

dream: - he’d put himself out there with a poise of confidence and strategy - like bro is prepared . he knows when where what why and how all this shit is happening  - but is also kinda like “ill just wing it and we’ll see how it goes lol” - get this man a schedule - he doesnt want to do a whole public thing so in my head i see him proposing to you in like a restaurant but like a fancy one - hed splurge for sURE  - one of those guys who had like 50 million meeting with ring companies to design the perfect one - asked his mom for help on designing a ring  - he had the blueprint for a speech in his head but when the moment came he went with the flow  - but when hes proposing hed remember his speech so hed be like - “i had this speech that id written, but looking at you made me forget it all, will you marry me?” or some shit like that LMFAOOO - pays sapnap money to come eat the place too so he can take pictures 

sapnap: - okay sapnap is a family man in my head - hed also want to do a destination proposal - maybe greece? rome? somewhere not in america is what im feeling - or hed do it in a fucking ranch in texas or like down the street from the dream team house either one - EITHER WAY he would want your parents and his parents MINIMUM to be there - searches up “best wedding ring designs 2022″ in google and hopes and prays - hed have one or two meeting to plan the ring but i think he’d be confident in what you like  - even if he has no clue - like “so sir, do you think your future fiance would like a rose gold band or gold band?” “rose gold for sure” *has no idea what you like * - would not try to plan a speech, he knows he’d forget it and wouldn’t even use it - saves all that material for the vows - so confident you’ll say yes that he starts calling ahead to look at venues to tour - LMFAO IMAGINE YOU ANSWER HIS PHONE AND THE GUY IS LIKE “hello yes we’re calling nick because he had interest in touring our wedding venue! congrats on the engagement!” - and youd be like “tf” - so you know - but dont tell him you know please it would make his year 

george: - is nervous - “dream what if they say no idk” “bro youre a fucking idiot” - def doesnt want to do a public proposal, he likes the private aspect - so he does it at home or some shit and his phone up to record cause bro knows youd be mad if you had no memento - but he doesnt do it secretly - hed press record and set it up so you can obviously see it - and youre expecting some prank - but then he gets down on one knee and youre tearing up and shi right in the middle of your kitchen - get mad at him for not letting you dress up and look nice for it - has a speech planned out in his head. word for word. and recites that shit back to you like its fucking drama class - once u say yes hes on discord like “SHE SAID YES” and sapnaps like “no fucking shit” - he’s the type of guy to make a ring that he likes and hopes that you like it too - luckily you do like the ring so it all works out - if not just tell him he wont be mad hell just go make a new one

quackity: - asks you like a few months earlier if you want to get married - “do you wanna get married” “sure” - so he knows youre locked in and ready to go LMFAOO even if you interpreted it as light hearted at the time - because of that theres a little suspicion that goes on in your mind when you see him go “i gotta take this call” or “no im def not looking up wedding venues 2023 what do you mean” - but you being the great s/o you are just ignore it - is he proposing or did he take you on a late night drive to an outlook thing - is he proposing or did you catch karl in the bushes with a camera - is he proposing or did he say youre beautiful - is he proposing or did he get down on one knee?? YK WHAT IM SAYING - bro just stares at you and you stare at him like - “babe” “babe” love - youre nodding ur head yes before bro gets a chance to speak - which is good cause he didn’t know what he wanted to say - not that he doesnt know what to say its just - he has so many words for you that he cant put them into words - was ready to blurt out a mixture of spanish and english and hope u caught his drift

karl: - enlists the help of his friend - “hey tina take y/n to get their nails done” - “hey brooke take y/n to get a new dress” - “hey sapnap give me money to buy y/n a ring” LMFAOFMOA - no hed be saving up that shit for AGES - started a proposal dream pinterest board the minute he knew you were the one - subtly ran ideas by you over the course of the years you were together - you didnt think of anything. blissfully unaware - “look at this picture on pinterest!” “oh its sO PRETTY!! imagine getting engaged there” - *saves it to the board* - BUT AS A RESULT he cant make up his mind on where to propose - so he just picks one enie-meanie-miney-mo or however you spell it  - wherever it ends up being its so sweet - mr beast or someone tricks you into coming to the location under the guise of a video  - and you show up and its karl in a suit - “lets go on a walk love” “okay?” - you get an idea of whats about to happen

wilbur: - stalks your pinterest stalks your moms pinterest stalks your ex friends sister met someone at the club and he kissed her’s pinterest - is SO CONFIDENT he’s got everything right because all his information is form you directly - plans that shit out to a T  - “okay phil at 11:02 am you call y/n and say good morning any plans for the day then tommy at 11:34 am call y/n and ask her if she wants to join you for a vlog at [location]” “dude wil we know lets just get on with it” - chooses somewhere with ambience with music perhaps by the ocean or a river or something - meticulously listens to all of spotify for the perfect song to play in the background - hired james and ash (professionals) to film  -  public proposal wants the world to know that he is wilbur and he loves you -  isnt nervous about proposing but is scared something is gonna go wrong -  the whole build up to the proposal is a blur to him  - he wants it to be perfect - hes mentally checking everything off in his head as it happens - “okay so we arrived on time, check” “we’re standing in the right direction check” - when the time comes to propose he blanks - cause everything went right and now its showtime - says whatever is on his mind and then gets on track - “oh my god everything i alright this is amazing! but i love you dear like a lot and...” - cue cheering from tommy (and a lot of soft smiles from random people) when you say yes 

please send me requests it took me days to figure out what to write about here

[cherubispunk]

CHERUB (PART III) - Dealer!Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

summary: the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering.

a note from Lucy: Well, this is it folks. The third and final instalment of the unholy trinity that is cherub. The fic that i had no idea would get this amount of traction. The fic that gave me my username, blog theme, the majority of my mutuals and the freedom to explore more taboo areas of writing that I never felt comfortable with doing before. I just wanted to thank you all for all the kind words you’ve shared with me. Comments, reblogs, messages, they all mean the utter world. But i also want to specifically thank @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin who was such a huge help for motivation when wrting each of these. She's been there since the first day of cherub and always let me obsess over dealer!joel with her. Ange, i love you baby. Out of all my fandom experiences, this has definitely been one of the best. I know this sounds a lot like a goodbye completely, but it's not i swear! I just never really knew where this was going, but I think this is a pretty good way to end the series and I hope you agree too. Part of me isn't ready to let go after such a short run, but I honestly have no idea where to go from here so I think I did it as much justice as I could. Regardless, Cherub and Dealer!Joel will forever have a place in my heart all thanks to you lovely lot! Your love means the world to me and you are all so easy to share this with, you've given me an environment to flourish creatively and I'm eternally grateful for that. I wish you all the love, hugs, kisses, and angel wishes in the world! 

playlist 

wc: 5548 Warnings: 18+ MDNI! DARK CONTENT! Unedited for now, no outbreak, no use of y/n but joel calls the reader ‘Cherub’, plot? what plot? we all know we're here for the porn anyway, bombastic age gap (reader is in her early 20’s and Joel is in his late 50s), gore imagry, religious imagry, Smut, very dubcon in theory but both want it bad, grafic smut, P in V sex (unprotected — pleaseee don’t do tis irl i beg of you), teasing, sort of edging? (idk what to call it but he doesnt fuck you until you beg for it lol). nipple play, biting biting biting!!!!!, references to domestic violence, use of pet names, manipulative! joel, stupid stupid cherub, stockholm syndrome, oral (f receiving), cum eating, pussy slapping, Joel being foul mouthed, cursing, dirty talk, overstimulation. Again, some of the most animalistic, disgustingly wretched and vile vile vile porn I have written thus far…with so little plot that this earned me my place in hell, i have my own circle now. Big Dick Joel Miller comes as his own warning.

series m.list | m.list

The danger didn't lie in his hands. It didn't sit in his closed first to be suffocated. Choked out until the life of it was compressed. Until its face was blue, then purple and its eyes were bloodshot and streaked with red. The danger lay in your heart. And it thrived off the beating.

What is ‘it’, you ask? Mania.

The Greeks had it nailed down when they split love seven different ways. To the crucifix through its punctured and bleeding palms. All equal, but different. They understood that one love is different to the other. That love can be either obsession, or lingering in the quiet parts of a person's mind. You cannot hold up a mirror to one and deceive into believing it is another. No matter how sweet the lie seeps into the ear. They don't work that way. You were not Lucifer, you had no forked tongue. And your mania wasn't Eve. There was no apple to devour. Only the strong arm of Joel Miller to cling to like a noose.

Some love passionately. Find it in the scathing friction of flesh upon flesh. The heat two bodies make only in sex. You were no body anymore. Merely a corpse for him to dig up and breathe life into whenever he needed relief. So it was not Eros. Some love playfully. In the back and forth of a conversation that makes the mind and heart float in the clouds among the soul. Entwine them together until you are too sedated to know the difference between the three pillars of personal holy trinity. There was nothing lighthearted about Joel Miller. So there was no Ludus. Affection. The subtle, it-is-there-even-when-it-is-not weight of lovers hand in lovers hand. Joel clutched your throat with his heavy hand. He didn't lace your fingers in his like tapestry threads. And he was anything but friendly. So it could never be Philia. He was not unconditional. Familial. Constant. Committed. Long lasting. Selfless. He crept in through the backdoor and took. Then slipped back out. So the thick blood red line was drawn through Storge. Agape. Pragma. The love you had was not for yourself. Without him you hated yourself. Hated how you didn’t feel needed. Or wanted. So Philautia was buried six feet under hot earth, the final nail in the coffin that was lowered into the rotting, thick-with-decaying-mulch, stenching ground. By none other than Mania.

This was something you came to realise as you stumbled from his truck back to your room. His come dribbling down your leg. Luke asleep on the sofa. Months passed of the same thing. He’d take you home from work, only letting you go once he'd had his fill. Played out the sick fantasy from mind to matter, let it bleed through his fingers into fruition. You let it happen for mania. It was the thing inside you that kept you going. Before you thought mania fed off your heartbeat. But now you realised mania fed your heartbeat. The kick it got every second fired the next muted pulse. That's what kept it alive. Energy for energy. You were never one to bite the hand that feeds. That’s a sinner's duty.

—

The usual sight of Luke slumped in his lazy boy, guzzling beer was what you expected. The liquor once again swigged past his lips and dribbling down his stubbled chin. Wiry greying hair greasy on his head, balding. Thinning. Residue from a line on the coffee table. You were never tempted by it before. And you were determined never be a Angel dust statistic like him.

Instead, you opened the flimsy door of your trailer to see him hunched over a small collapsible table. His hand running over his sunken eyes, dragging purple eye bags down with his fingertips in shame. Cards in his other. It had your breath catching in your throat like a hare in a wire snare trap. This time around the small collapsible round table. Cards in his hand. And two other men shared a knowing glance and a grim smile of satisfaction. Him.

Joel Miller.

The tension was thicker than molasses in the room. You only wished it was as sweet. You swallowed it down thickly. It stretched your throat. You watched in morbid fascination when he lay his hand on the table in a fan for all to horror at, a sly smirk slithering over his lips and curling the one corner of it up like a scorpion's tail.

“Full house.”

“Fuck!” And Luke’s hand slapped the tabletop as he folded.

The door clicked. All three looked up to see you. Luke, Joel, and the man who held a familiar resemblance to your own personal devil. With eyes on you, you felt more like that hare in the snare than ever. Clapping eyes on the hungry wolf as mutton dripped bloody from his sneer. Cruel and hungry. You imagined him as that wolf, hyde thick and bristled under your soft fingers as he led you to some deep, dark, thorny place. A place only lit by the eyes of owls who observed while he had his way with you. Ripped your stockings to get to sweet fruit.

“Great, the cunt is home.” Luke spat to the room but you, looking over the table again as he bit his thumb nervously to the edge of the hangnail. “Get me a beer.” Your nostrils flared in defiance at his demand, knuckles pale as fingers furled into a fist. An army of goosebumps had stood to attention all along your arms and the back of your neck. A shiver shattering down your spine. Your heart had enough of its prison of your ribcage in your anger, ramming into it over and over in a frantic hammering. And when that wasn't enough, you felt it in your throat. Among the tightening of your airways. “You hear me girl?” He asked, looking at you. He stood, chair scraping against the floor and you staggered back to the point your shoulderblades hit the door. While he was a thin, wiry man, he had a vicious backhand that stung. Like a vengeful aftertaste. “Y’need me to beat some sense inta ya girl, huh?!” You dared to spare a glance at Joel who was too busy collecting his winnings. You soon to be among them.

“Sorry.” You mumbled, looking to the floor and cowering off to the kitchen to get him his beer.

“Y’short, Luke.” You heard from the doorway, straining to hear the tail end of the conversation. Something about your uncle having it by monday. And then Joel telling him he shouldn’t raise a bet he doesn't have the dough to cover.

It took a second to catch your breath. Tears strung in your eyes and your chest threatened to split in two. Your sternum felt like it was cracking down the middle into clean halves under the weight of your chest. A hand clasped over your quivering lips to bite back a horrible sob and muffle it. Only your palm could know you were crying miserably. So you took a beer from the fridge, heard the hiss as the lid gave way and popped off. It clattered to the linoleum and you bared your teeth at the grating sound, picking it up and tossing it in the bin.

“Here.” You mumbled, placing it unceremoniously on the table in front of Luke.

“Y’got any spare cash on you, girl?” Luke asked, beady eyes staring you down as he raised the bottle to his lips and took a drink. You grimaced inwardly at the sight of his yellow teeth when he made a satisfied sigh.

“No.”

Joel’s brow raised. You should know by now not to lie to a man who can read you like a book. That's the thing about narcissists. They have a way of being able to understand you like a one word sentence on paper. A quick glance and you’re unravelling with concealed meaning and connotation.

“C’mon, Cherub…gotta have something from workin’ this late in that diner of yours…” You dared to challenge Joel with a look. A look that retreated soon after the advance of the glare of his eye. The same glare of the hungry wolf. Of the cheated man. It was unkind, and unyielding, and did not hold mercy upon the souls of the enthralled, the damned, or the harrowed. You might try to cross through the sentence, or turn the page. Or shut the book entirely. But the truth is still the truth even when you chose not to look. This was the man that knew your mind. Knew your body. And coaxed his will out of you each time. His word was all it took to cave, so you took the folded bills from your apron, flicking through them with a bitten back scowl,

“How much does he owe you?” Joel smiled with amusement, counting through his winnings to see what was short.

“Ninety-eight.”

‘What?” you asked, eyes wide, hurt. Disheartened. Fingers stilling halfway through the small stack. And Joel smirked.

“You heard me, Cherub.”

“Give Joel his money.” Luke warned.

“But it’s not his money! And it’s not yours to give!” You tried, and saw the warning tick of your uncle's narrow jaw. It was always set on edge before he threw a hand. Cast a palm across your cheek in a brandishing. It had you cowering. Relenting. Tossing the money in front of him. If it fell to the floor in its flurry he could pick it up and grovel about it. But Joel never grovelled. Only relished. Then reminded Luke of the money he still owed for the drugs.

And you walked back to the kitchen, biting into your lip again. With the devil and your demon in the next room over, you were sure this could be hell. A buzz filled your ears. Like the constant thrum of flies over roadkill. In festering flesh wounds where broken white of bone poked through gaping, bleeding holes. Blood matted in the hyde of the animal helpless and scattered across the road. A leg here, smashed teeth there. You were the roadkill. Joel was at the wheel of that which mowed you down. Luke was howling in the passenger side.

His boots thumped clumsily over the linoleum and he let out a huff through his nose while he adjusted his low slung jeans in the doorway.

“Cherub?” He asked, clearing his throat huskily — a consequence of the smokes he used religiously. You stood with your back to him, palms flat to the countertop and head hung low to fight the sting of tears simmering from within.

“He threatened to hit me.” You whispered, not turning to face him. If you mattered his ears would strain to meet you halfway. “And you did nothing.”

“Come on, Cherub…don't be like that.” he sighed, and you imagined him pinching the bridge of his hooked nose.

“He took my money. You took my money. How am I gonna get out of here without it?” You croaked, your tired eyes seeing faces of gaping mouths and slate black eyes in the speckled linoleum of the counter.

No reply came from the door. And when you turned it was empty. He had left. The other man had left. The tv was on again with the scream of a woman murdered. And Luke fell asleep in his lazy boy.

—

Another day, another shift. And more horror ensued. At first, what set the nerves thrumming was there was no sign of Luke. His truck was gone from its spot. No drunk slumped on the worn leather settee. No scream or grotesque image on the TV. Merely an empty bottle on the coffee table.

You swallowed, shutting the door cautiously with a muffled click of the latch. You didn't dare call his name. Just pushed it down into your stomach for it to churn the thought up in acid. But the horror jumped back up your throat into a lurid scream at the sight of your mattress tossed to the side. The moth bitten pillowcase on the floor, void of money. Your money. Gone. Someone had rifled through your belongings. Turned your only space into a mess. Strewn clothes, bed sheets, pillows in their haste. All your work. All the nights of living off bitter coffee from the pot at work, scrounging together tips. It made you seethe. The heat was an inferno at your fingertips, nails embedding crescents into your palms. You searched all over for it. But to no avail.

When Uncle Luke came home, he smelled of hard liquor. It was a miracle – or curse – he hadn't wrapped his car around a tree. He gloated, and sneered, and shoved it down your throat in his intoxication that he’d found it under the mattress. Joel had called him, told him you planned on leaving. And he connected the dots. Ransacked your room. Oh, how the man would hate his loose lips when you gave him hellfire.

You expected Luke’s reaction. You knew if he were to ever find out he’d snatch it up in his greedy, grimy hands and take it for himself. He spent all of it. Paid his debt to Joel, gambled some on bad luck bets, drank with the rest. Slugged liquor down his throat and got drunk off your labour. And then left you on your floor with tear stained cheeks and a heart of heavy lead.

You wanted your money. But would you take from the man who gave you your everything? Your sense of being. A religion and faith. You believed in nothing more than the way he held your name between his teeth. You forgot what your real name felt like in the same place. And it occurred to you that he had never said it. Did he know it? You weren't them anymore. You were Cherub.

The sweet and mourning lamb in you wanted to go over just to be his again, and not carry out the plan of taking back what was yours. That which he would see as sin. You felt guilt claw up your throat at the thought alone. It seemed blasphemous to conspire against him. Why do you insist on protecting yourself. You who was the sacrificial lamb?

If you did go – and you let him have you again – you were whole. But at what cost? Could you stand another night of temporary hell under the guise of heaven. Of touch so cold, like ivory or black ice. To have him thumb your skin with blunt endearments and the croon of ‘cherub’ past his chapped lips. Definite like black and white. No escape. What he’d do and how. Whispering them in the stone deaf shells of your ears like they were a sculpture. Pygmalion’s Bride. He’d made you all you were today. Took chisel to marble and carved out his masterpiece. Cherub.

You were soft, and pliable. Wax heated by his flame. You kissed back. You moaned for him. Begged him for his release and not your own. Bruised with his handprint. The warmth of life under flesh. But without him…you returned to marble. Another pretty thing to be gawked at. He tempted you with it because he knew more than anyone, more than god himself who watches these exchanges, that you can't live without him. It was like telling a child not to slip off to the woods in the dead of night. That was a pointless warning. You knew what lay there anyway, what threat it would be. That wolf in his thick bristled hyde. Curled up in his den. You would see it as innocence and vulnerability if you weren't so scared. But you knew when he woke up the teeth would shine again. And they’d tear flesh. Let blood. Gnash bone. Dripping from the glaring white once he finished with your carcass. Your matter between them and your crimson lacing his gums. Who knew being eaten alive could be so pleasurable.

But then again, how could bering alone really be hell if the devil wasn't there?

There is mania in your body. But you can't get it out. It rattles in your head and lungs and glues to the backs of your gnashers. No matter how much you wish to spit it out. It infects your tongue. It welds itself to the matter of your bones. Melts into the cracks between your teeth. Claggy against your tongue. All to show the sweetest of words have the bitterest of tastes. You can feel it swell underneath your skin. In the gap between muscles where it festers and heats you up. Like fever it burns, like the fire that consumes and the pillars that hold the temple up crack, the ground shakes, and the beast rears its ugly head at you. You’re losing your body to him. It's a fight you try to win. You dare to. You give your all, tooth and nail each time in the gaps between. In the silence and hollow that nestles in the middle of the meetings. In the quiet, where no one is around but the cracked plaster of your room. You stopped caring who fired the gun first. You were always the one who got shot down in the end. Right in the stomach. Blood gurgling up your throat in a grotesque plea for help.

All these weeks you had shrunk yourself to the size of a bird in his hands, sang a sweet sweet song of his name, until the squeeze of his first closest off your throat. And the sound stopped altogether. Laid there after the warning. Patient while you had your wings clipped and your freedom taken. And he took more. Took the beating of your heart with his teeth. Took the will to want. The will to love. The will to need anything else, as well as the need to have better. Below you were the foundations. Only now you saw them for what they were, a decaying mess of fragments, the stench of wood rot hot in your nose. A musk like no other. His musk. So in your anger you took an axe to a willow to see how it would weep. You slipped past the sleeping drunk you call Uncle Luke. Out the door, over gravel, past the truck he coaxed you to without the need of a sweet treat. You’d yank the axe from the bark of the weeping willow, its sob echoing in the wind that rustled its drapery of lush green leaves. Leaves that will wilt as sap bleeds from its severed trunk. Take the axe to the wolf. Cut him. Scrotum to throat.

Take back what was yours. And leave those woods skipping.

—

Your knocks descend upon his door in quick raps until he opened it with a grumble. Then a smirk. “Evenin’, Cherub.”

No salvation. No going back. No space among the clouds. Just the fall. You pushed past him into his front room. “Where is it?’ You hissed, tossing the cushions of the couch up. Nothing there. So you left them on the floor and did the same for the airchair. Nothing there either.

“Woah, calm down, girl!’ Joel huffed, reaching for your arm, which you tugged back from him in a new found strength surging you forward, out of his arms. “Where’s what?”

“My damn money, Miller!” You bit back with venom laced spit. A hunger for revenge making you salivate like a bad dog.

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You know exactly what I'm talking about, dickhead!” And he recoiled at your bared teeth, your verbal assault and battery, but went in for his own.

“Watch your damn foul language, girl!” He warned, reaching the end of his already short tether.

“You know how much he stole from me? Three hundred dollars of my hard earned chash. Forget my fucking ticket out of this shithole, I ain’t even paying rent now! And for what? Your god awful drugs!” His nostrils flared, and you watched the vein in his neck bulge under the sweltering heat of his own anger. Coiling inside him. Wounded bitch about to bite back.

“You didn’t have much of a probelm with my drugs after I fucked that pretty little hole of yours. All dumb and needy f’me, Cherub.” You grimaced at the sneer. But the feeling made your knees buckle. The name again. Cherub. You were Cherub. His cherub. “You want ya money back, huh? You can have it.”

That made you stutter. Thoughts skidding to halt at the sight of a brick wall. Crumpled matter as it smashed into it anyway. “What?”

“I ain't giving it to you for free though.”

“You're sick! It’s my fucking money!”

“Not in the eyes of the law its not.” And he folded his great oaks of arms over his chest in satisfaction. Once again one upping you.

“The eyes of the law? Says the fucking drug dealer. I bet you got way worse than coke in duffel over there. Wonder what the law would say about that?” It was said dismissively over your shoulder as you turned to leave. Alas, once again his large hand encompassed your wrist and squeezed. Pulled you back flush to his broad chest. His breath was hot on your neck as he whispered sweetly into your ear.

“Come on now, Cherub. You wouldn't do me in like that would ya? Not when I love ya…”

The way he said it…it didn't seem real. It was false. Comforting but not real. You knew it was a lie. This wasn't love. He didnt love. If he loved you he'd ask for your number then call you. Take you out. Let you cry on his shoulder and drive you home after. Kiss you in the dark for only the walls to see. Let you stay a night or two, or a whole damn week. Give you your damn money back. Stand up to Luke with a closed fist to the face. Leave swelling and a deep bruise on his cheekbone as a first and final warning.

“You love me?” You asked, voice small and hollow in your chest.

“Yeah, Cherub. I love you too.” He cooed, as if he knew you loved him already. All this and nose running over the curve of the side of your neck, tongue trailing hot in pursuit, it had you keeling over in confession at his feet. “You’re so cute when you're angry. Come on now, lemme make those tears go away…and you can have your money back, and we can forget this ever happened.” That tone…it was patronising. It made the sense in you rattle the cage of your ribs. Claw at the bars of bone and run into them like a caged animal. Because that’s what it was. A caged animal. But your heart was holding its hand over its mouth in a trance as it let his words ebb deeper. Somewhere between desperate and divine. But what was his motive?

God, Jesus, all above that is holy, you didn't care! After all this time, it was still no secret, or hushed uttering that Joel Miller was now everywhere in you. Scraping the backs of your teeth, festering like a virus in your bloodstream. Melding to the marrow of your bones. The walls of your cunt.

He still had a devastating habit of seeping through the cracks of your closed lids. Still ready to pillage and plunder his way through your head in its numbed state of sleep. When you could have finally— finally stopped and not felt. But he ebbs deeper. Always would. Always will.

It's what got you here. It would end you if it could. Snuff out your heartbeat and the fire inside of you. All he need do was lick his fingers and press them to the wick. And leave the smoke to string out and curl. You thought you were hungry for love before. But now you realised you were just hungry for the sight of your blood on his lips. The gnashing of you between his teeth. The curl you made of his brow. If it wasn’t devastating, reaping its agony in your silly little fractured chest— you didn’t dare need, nor crave it. You came for the pleasure but you stayed for the pain. And he took again, and again.

So you let him ‘make it up to you’. Let him claw at your clothes until they were scraps on the floor. Tore your stockings. Showed you those gleaming teeth. The wolf. And you, his sacrificial lamb. His Cherub.

“Feel that?’ He asked, with the slow drag back and forth of him inside you, parting you. This wasn’t fast, or rough. This was slow. And it made you need more. Need it faster. Need him hurtling you towards the edge of harrowing oblivion. He knew that. It’s why he took his time with it this time around. “Yeah. You do.” Joel answered for you. You never had to answer. But often he made you say it from your own quivering lips. Just to have the taste of the words from your tongue bleed into his. The neverending praise. “Why would you wanna leave that Cherub?” You couldn't answer, only let out a soft sob. “Huh? Answer me, Cherub. Why’d you wanna fuckin’ leave that?” And he punctuated it with pulling out to the bulbous head of his clock, then slamming back in with one sharp thrust. And then he was still.

You whined a shallow gasp into his mouth. But he didn’t kiss you. Joel never kissed you. His teeth sinking into your bottom lip shut you right up before his tongue delved deeper into it. The thumb of the hand that slithered between your legs rolled over your clit, making you mewl over the buzz of electricity causing you to clamp down on his thick, full cock. You were so eager for more. Anything more than what he was giving you. He smirked into your mouth when he felt your hips buck forward, trying your damn hardest to push his cock deeper into you. Silly little cherub. You should know better than to defy God. “See? Felt good didn’t it?” You nodded as much as you could in your current piston.

“Mhm.”

“See what you can have if you stay. Why fight it cherub?”

“Yes, Joel.”

“You gonna listen then, Cherub?”

“Yes. Yes! I’ll listen, just-” You shuddered at the thought of it, tears brimming at the the threshold of your eye. ”Please.”

“Say it.” He waited, wanting you to beg for it in the pretty way he knew you could. The choir voice. The songbirds hymn. The whole time his eyes did nothing but stare you down hungry at the sight of you falling apart from nothing but a hand to your throat and a single his throbbing dick buried in your aching cunt. It all pooled down into your centre, creating a rush your head had trouble keeping up with. “Tell me why you wanted to leave.”

“I dunno-” You stuttered, once again rolling your hips up. His hand at your throat pressed into your skin again, harder. It choked you. It had you drawing in a sharp, meagre breath. And he pulled out, running the underside of himself through the hot, drooling seam of your cunt. You shivered when the tip brushed up to your clit momentarily. The bead of precome at his slit smearing into your sex, mixing with your slick. “I dunno, Joel. I- I just wanted my money. I just wanted out. I hate it.” You babbled through closed eyes, chest heaving with sobs, and hot tears ran thick down your flushed cheeks.

“You hate it, huh?” He mocked and crooned, still catching your clit with the tip of his cock, hips waxing and waning in a slow roll. “You hate me too?” He knew the answer. But again, it was the satisfaction of knowing you were wrapped around his finger. Ready to bend over backwards for him. Him seeping into you through the cracks of your ribs, the gaps between your teeth. The opening of yourself to the twisting knot of denial within you. Your back arched like the lofty roof of a chapel, legs parting like its heavy doors. He followed you with hunger. You opened your mouth to speak but he squeezed momentarily on your throat again, oxygen starvation and the smell of him dizzying you. He relished in the whimper that he garnered from you. That and how he left you breathless just from his cruel touch.

“No.” You garbled as his thumb unhinged your jaw. Saliva in your mouth pooling while his thumb pressed your tongue down, bitter with a smokers telltale tobacco staining. It slipped past your lips, dribbled down his digits making a sticky mess at the curve of his thick wrist. He drew up a glob of saliva in his throat, watching as it drooled thickly, gluttonously, past his lips into your waiting mouth. He watched as you gagged on it, and then he let your jaw go so you could close your mouth. You swallowed eagerly, savouring the taste on your tongue. For what did it matter anymore? One day, you’ll be nothing but dust. Bronchioles in lungs will mimic roots. Navels will copy trunks. Organs will feed worms. Ribs will fossilise and lips that are kissed will mould back to Mother Nature. It's all you have ever been. Quick. Convenient. Easy to please, eager to help. Waiting lips, wanting cunt. Warm, never warm enough. But he kept you like a butterfly in a glass jar. He let you see freedom but never experience it. Why need it when you had the stretch of him inside you. The feeling of him, heat to heat with your sex.

“You want this, cherub? Wanna be stuffed full of me again?”

“Always wanted it, Joel.” You mumbled into his mouth, sniffing back the last this spurt of tears, hypnotised. His hand wrapped around his cock, the large splay of his palm did nothing to dwarf its size with he jacked himself once, twice, three times to the sight of you. He squeezed the base with hiss, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth after cursing under his bated breath. He was thick, flushed, the tip swollen and leaking, drooling greedily with a rivulet of precum down the underside of his length. He trod a path with his hands down to your breasts, kneading each one between his palms with a pinch before guiding himself back into the mouth of your heat, your cunt swallowing him down to the base. The needy roll of your hips into his showed just how desperate you were. He groaned at the start of the friction between you, and slowly dragged back out of you, moving just as slowly back inside. He repeated this twice, and then he let loose. The motion turned into a needy clash of his hips to yours. Again. Again. Again. Somewhere along the sting of passion and heat, his hand wrapped around your throat, feeling the flex of it as you swallowed under his palm. He bit down into your neck, reaching out from you as his hips slammed erratically. His heavy balls slapping against your ass with each rut forward of his unrelenting. The way he fucked you, was like holding a knife to your throat. It grounded you in the most harrowing way to each of his breaths. His panting in your ear. It swallowed you whole. Mad your legs wrap around his waist and your hips keen up into him.

Your cunt drooled down his shaft, down to the base, down the sensitive skin of his cock. He growled and hissed in your ear, teeth closing around your earlobe, his hand dragging back up and grip tightening around your neck. Getting off on the feeling of your pulse under his thumb.

You felt the knot tighten. And tighten. Right in the pit of your stomach, deep in your sopping wet cunt where the mouth of your cervix met his fucking. The walls of your cunt sucking him back in as the angle of his hips snapped up into the spot that had you seeing entire constellations. They darted to and fro across your vision. It blurred the edge, spots of dark matter, deep black, the colour of oblivion slinging over the back of your eyes that now burned with tears of pleasure. His fingers dug deeper into malleable flesh, gripped tightly at your hip with his free hand, thumb brushing over your hip bone down your mound to toy with your clit after a slap to it. And it was the action that sent you spiralling, babbling his name nonsensically among a string of curse words. So pretty and fucked out beneath him. Joel couldn’t help but stare smugly as your eyes rolled back into your head when your orgasm hit like a freight train. He came undone soon after, his climax hitting a crescendo with a growl bitten into your shoulder, bruising and brandishing you with his mark again.

He pulled back, leaving you to the mercy of the cold. Watching was his hips moved again to fuck his release back into you. Your hole quivered in protest, and you squirmed under him. “Don’t be fucking ungreatful now, Cherub.” You relented, going still and boneless on the mattress. Limbs unfurling from their tension. “That's it. Take it. Take it all.” He groaned smoothly. Just like the roll of his hips. He fucked it slowly back into you. And you took his release inside you to keep. “Good girl, Cherub.” He whispered, kissing your lips in a tender dichotomy. Not letting you rest until he was satisfied you took every drop of him. Afterall, it was all you’d have left of him until he next chose to pick you up. All the while, he trailed his tongue back down to your breasts, pressing the flat of it to your nipple, drawing it with a sharp suck into his mouth. Pressing the blunt of his teeth into your flesh. Letting the taste melt on his tongue. Salty with your sweat. He did the same to the others. When he went soft inside of you, and his hips stilled. He slipped out of you with hitched breath, the pad of his fingertips tracing your abused, used sex. Your legs twitching when he rolled your clit under two fingers. “I said stop squirming.” He grunted, landing another slap to your pussy. It made an obscene wet sound. His come dribbling out slowly.

“Open your mouth.” Joel commanded, and you did. Waiting for whatever he had planned. He licked a hot strip from your asshole to your cunt, pressing his tongue in to drag out some of his release. And he climbed back up to spit it into your mouth. A hand clamping down on your jaw. “Don’t swallow. Close your mouth.” And you did with the side of his thumb clamping it shut for you. “Taste that?” You nodded in response. It was hot, heavy and thick and salty to taste. Divine. “Show me.” You opened again, his creamy spend diluted amongst your saliva and he smirked. Clamping your jaw shut again. “Swallow.”

Joel watched in open mouthed amusement as the delicate column of your throat rippled under muscle contract. “Good girl, Cherub. Remember that taste next time y’feel like leaving again.” He warned in a growl. And you nodded, swallowing your pride. Your fear. Your mania aiding in shoving it down your throat to dissolve in acid. Once again you were in those deep dark woods. The one where the wolf lay. Remnants of you in his teeth. The willow is still weeping, slashed in half. The axe free of his bloodshed by the entrance of his den. The owls' eyes still lit the scene of sin where overhead the starlight was snuffed out by the tangle of branches thick in their black greenery.

You never got your money back. Maybe one day you'd get out of this town. But the devil has a funny habit of making you want your own suffering. Even angels can’t resist a slice of that heaven. Fallen angel. Wounded bitch. Cherub.

[nymph-ette111]

Hello again! Its me the one who requested the proxies with a forest ranger S/o

I sawed your post and kinda went 😮 when I found out forest rangers and fire looksouts aren’t the same thing too ngl. I originally got the idea when I watched/played ‘Fears to fathom: Ironbark lookout’. I actually looked it up and I guess the correct term would be “Park ranger” (I still don’t know bro I could be wrong) but I originally got the idea from the fears to fathom so I guess you could kinda base it off that (minus the cult) but I just thought it would be a cool idea. Like for example on the fire watch aspect, Tim is chronic Smoker and Toby is canonically a pyromaniac (idk about brain in this situation) so like Tim could be smoking or toby could be setting something on fire and you would be side eyeing tf out of them. OR, You could just be trying to peacefully sleep in your watch tower (assuming there is one) and One of them would be knocking at your damn door/window in the dead ass of the night and your just there either terrified, confused, or annoyed (its up to your interpretation).

But anyway sorry for the ramble and confusion, As always I appreciate you and hope you have a wonderful day (remember to drink water) buh/bye now <3

(♡) Authors note; in my old author's note I literally said it was inspired byironbark lookout but then I hesitated bcs I thought it wasn't what you're looking for. good thing I didn't delete the previous work :3 SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT I DIDN'T HAVE ANY MOTIVATION TO WRITE ANYTHING :(

HOODIE;

-before the relationship between you two, he knew about your job as a park ranger/ fire lookout.

-actually, he knew about everything. From the tasks you usually handle to your working schedule.

-the reason he didn't kill you off was because part of your job is keeping campers away from the unregistered camp grounds which was quite convenient on his part. (Perhaps convenient for all of them)

-that way he wouldn't risk getting caught on the way/back from a mission, even though he usually drives to his destinations with a beaten up old truck. He knows how nosey some people are and would definitely pull a curiosity move and possibly find his resort.

-but he also couldn't let you run around freely around the forest either, he just kept an eye on you for a while in case you were too close to finding out about his...'business'

-i can see him stalking you slowly seeping into his routine. could be out of curiosity or genuine interest.

-during your relationship, he'd drop by from time to time in the watch tower even though it's against the rules. He'll be careful, he says.

-he's still an asshole very much like his friends, would probably disregard his mudded hiking boots by the entrance and just throw himself on your bed. Not caring if whatever substance he was covered in (blood) stains your bedsheets or something.

-to make up for it he cooks you food with whatever ingredients you have to offer :3 I like to think he's a good cook, staying out in the forest for long periods of time gained him that skill.

-if he isn't too busy, you two would watch the scenery together :) a little nice bonding moment.

MASKY;

-sigh... This motherfucker would NOT be good company for you at all.

-you could be sleeping peacefully just to wake up and find him standing at the foot of your bed just...staring.

-he's making sure they don't get you lol

-who the fuck is "they" (...does anyone get the reference)

-steals any lighters he finds in the shack just to light up his cigarettes.

-yes, when he puts out his cigarettes he just throws them on the ground. not caring if it's against the rules to litter the forest. at this point they're all trying to get you in trouble whether it's intentionally or not.

-unlike Toby, he doesn't help around that much with your tasks.

-if you manage to convince him to bring up some firewood from the shack so you can light up the fire, just praise him. it's enough to boost his already humongous ego and he might consider helping every now and then just so you could call him your strong, manly boyfrie–

TOBY;

-This stupid fucker would send you disturbing messages on his old ass flip phone at night whenever you still have the planks up.

-some shit like 'i c yu :-)'

-... yeah he never likes typing his sentences properly because he still uses those number keyboards (I don't know what they're called)

-it gives you a heart attack everytime untill you look out the window and see that it's Toby being a weirdo again.

-like anon said, he always sets random stuff on fire which always gets him in trouble, you end up reminding him that you aren't the only fire lookout in the forest and that another worker will report it.

-he doesn't listen.

-he definitely scares off any campers in areas they aren't supposed to be. Hey, at least he isn't completely useless!

-the opposite of Brian/Hoodie, instead of cooking for you he absolutely ravishes anything you have in the fridge.

-no, he isn't sorry.

-other than the things that he does to piss you off he actually does help from time to time like helping you fill in the service reporting— using the anemometer, checking the thermometer...etc

-he thinks the devices look neat :)

[onepieceoftheoceanblues]

Batfam X One Piece Crossover AU

Someone mentioned this sort of au and I went Insane a bit ^-^' hope you guys enjoy!

Okay so a Batfam in the One Piece world au and how I think it would work/go;

I imagine the Batfam were whammied into an entirely new dimension while on patrol so we have the full costumed roster (but not the full extended clan cuz that's so many people lol) so we have Bruce/Batman, Dick/Nightwing, Jason/Red Hood, Tim/Red Robbin, Damian/Robin, Cass/Black Bat, Stephanie/Batgirl (you can pry Steph still being batgirl out of my cold dead hands), and Duke/Signal.

The First thing they do is figure out where they are, an island in something called the ___ blue (idk which they should be in lol, but it's best if they start in a blue I think), and are very obviously not in their world. (I'm gonna say for the sake of Plot either One Piece doesn't exist in their world or none of them have watched/read it because that would be too easy lol)

Ofc the second thing they do is try to find a way home and gather info but uh, they quickly realize this world doesn't have the best tech around to build something to take them home, and places/people they can get to would be either hard to find or in a place that's very dangerous to get to (Vegapunk is their best bet but... not really an option for right away due to mentioned reasons).

They think of asking this "World Government" for help for all of two seconds, before finding out how fucking awful and corrupt the whole system this world has and nixes that idea right in the bud. They're Vigilantes for a reason, after all, and know corruption in governments very well. So honestly, their best bet is either trying to go along and find someone that can help and materials, or waiting for their people from their world to come and get them.

(SO much more under cut im sorry Brain went Brrr)

Tbh it must be so wild to be in this world too tho, for some many reasons. It's close enough, but then you factor in all the different races and species, and how the world is set up. Add the fact most of it not as advanced as their world, except in some places which it is? And how half their technology runs on... snails?????? What a baffling world. Also, people can have powers and are gained from something called Devil Fruits which give you powers in exchange that the sea can and will kill you, except for some races have natural powers due to their biology.

They decide pretty quickly in world of water to not eat the Devil Fruits. Also keep an eye on Duke because his powers, while not too flashy, arnt a devil fruit, and they have no way to explain how he has them, and how he can manipulate both light and shadows.

Its probs also so jarring because like, in their world, they are used to being the peak of what humans can do. They keep up with metas and aliens and are cosidered among the best of the best for a reason, and while they often have to compensate with gear and tech, at the end of the day they can only go so far as humans.

However, it's different in this world. Clearly even though there are humans, their biological standards are different then their Earth, and even just humans without powers can go far beyond their own norm if they train and work hard enough for it.

The Batfam could easily handle the Blue's pirates and marines, and probs all cannon fodder marines, and while I think they could deal with a good chunk if not most people in Paradise baring the strongest in the first half of the grand line, there's no way they could deal with the New World even with their best gear and in peak condition for them. Which sucks because their best bets are likely in that Sea.

Idk where I'd see them, my heart wants them to be pirates of their own little run pirate crew, but I could easily see them being picked up by a canon crew or turning Revolutionaries in exchange for getting help find a way home, or pirates with connections to Revs. The only thing I can't see is them as Marines, as stated a few paragraphs above, lol, but also I figure they run into the law and go fuck you guys and what you stand for and end up with bounties so they are wanted anyways. But either way they are gonna be progressing and trying to find a way home while getting stronger.

I imagine Haki is the first thing they really try to get down after leanring about it. Idk how they managed to find out about it either in the blues or so early in the grand line, but they are expert information gatherers so they do and immediately try to learn it (either tracking someone down who knows it or how to unlock it, or finding adequate documentation in how to do it) and get to work. It's their best chances in getting a leg up in this world.

And they do unlock it! They're pretty much all geniuses, and they already have experience learning weird skills and manipulating their mental will (they can block out telepaths and have strong willpower in general against mind control canonically), so learning to manifest it into Observation and Armament Haki is less about how hard it is and more just if they can (After all they aren't from this world) and how to apply it. Thankfully, it seems they can.

Duke's Observation makes his future vision so much more powerful, so much he actually has adverse effects to it at first before he gets used to it. Observation is great, just helps what they already natrually know but Armament is very much beloved, instant armor that helps you hit harder even against normal people, let alone devil fruit users!! They are big fans.

Conquerors Haki off the table rn because A.) they don't know if they have it and B.) Who or whatever they learned Haki from didn't explain it or have it to explain so that's put to the side for now, but I'm unsure who, if any of them, have it. Maybe Bruce and Jason, and maybe Damian? I feel?? I could also see Dick unlocking his use of it in a fit of protective rage? Im largely Unsure.

I also think it would be neat if the longer they are here, their bodies adapt to this world more and more until they start being able to past their peak of what they could do before and just... keep going. It varies from each batfam member how they feel on their biology changing over time, but they can't do more than just accept it. At least it will help them survive.

Also, they have to adapt in more ways than one. They arrive and their best gear, fully stocked and mostly undamaged, but the longer they are here the more they run out of supplies and things wear down so they have to figure out how to get/make more or alternate for something better. Batarangs thankfully, while having to be made of a different material, can be made from any island with a good blacksmith who's willing to let them use their forges to make them themselves (cuz having to commission them would take money they don't actually have)

Their suits thankfully are fine and reinforced, but over time they're gonna have to likely find a fabric that could replace the stuff their suits are made of or just switch to diffrent outfits inspired by their suits. Dick's Escrima Sticks can't be charged, so they end up not electrified until they find a way to do it later. Jason's guns inevitably run out of ammo then even if he makes his own, they get just damaged so he's forced to switch to the local pirate guns, thankfully not all are just flintlocks.

Damian's sword is apparently very high grade here and is very smug about it, though annoyed other "Swordsmen" keep wanting to know more about his blade and where he learned to use his "weird style". Tim gets a boa staff that has the ends tipped in sea stone.

Their styles also adapt over time. I have this vision of Dick getting his hands on these boots, probs with Dial technology, that let him jump higher and bounce off of walls if he times it right. Jason with Dial guns. They start picking up the 6 powers as well, not all, but Geppo and Soru become very heavily utilized. I think one of them should end up with Voice of all Things, either Cass or Duke, because it's fun lol.

Im... unsure about devilfruits, but I think it would be intrestin to explore if somone ate one, likely out of despration or having little choice. Unsure who or what fruit but just would be neat i think, expecially dealin with the side effects. Tho Dick with a Wind Logia or a winged Zoan of sorts sounds SO interesting. (Can you tell who my favorite batfam memeber is? ^-^')

As for Ponyglaph Runes, Bruce and Tim def find out about it and try their best to tackle it, but It's REALLY hard to learn an entirely different language with unfamiliar sentence structure when you have absolutely no keys or references to work with. They learn of Nico Robin, and aren't stupid so figure it's likely an awful cover-up or more to the story, and decide to lowkey make it one of their goals to track her or any other knowledge on how to learn it down. If they get even a bare hint of a clue on how to translate, I'm sure they'd figure it out over time, but Robin is their best bet.

They find out about Whitebeard, and they are quietly glad Bruce's adoption problem isn't that bad but think its funny. Dick is beloved by all and makes enough friends and allies to rival Luffy's charisma, it's a skill man. I can't decide if their Epithets in this world are just their Vigilante names, and they stay masked, or they get knew Epithets and decide there's no point in hiding, or a mix of both but yee.

The OP world either speaks "Common" they can all magically speak now with some diffrent launages in diff parts of the world, OR Japanese, which some of them know and have to teach the others, OR a weird mix of English and Japanese. There's a point in time that people think Damian is Nico Robin's child or sibling because of the Robin thing, and he's a little demon child. Or hell they still do, and he's very livid while Robin is both amused but also scared for this child who is being tied to her.

They still dont kill for the most part, baring Jason, but some of them are pushed into it and they have to figure out what that means for them and what it means moving fowrard with their no kill policy. Some do better with it, some dont. Bruce still hasnt and wont kill, same with Cass, and Damian decides he doesnt want to but will if absolutly no other choice is offered, thankfully they havnt let him had to make this choice yet. (I just have so much thoughts about a assassin raised child deciding they dont want their hands more red now they have the choice).

One or more of them should end up pulled into the War at Marineford and Ace should be saved because I will try to fit a Ace Lives plot into everything lol

Overall I think if this was a fanfic the plot would be a lot of exploring the differences in their worlds, how they adapt and overcome, and trying to find a way home while also coming to like this world and overturning corruption and fucking over the government. I think them with the Strawhats or another crew would be fun, either as allies or joined idk, but I think with them as their own crew would be cool as well. If they join or ally with a crew Bruce lowkey adopts everyone, and he's given SO much shit for it but christ so many of them have such sad backstories and he wants to help

I think in the end they should get to find their way home and like no time has passed, but they're so changed, and arguably considered powered now because lol, but find a way to go back and visit safely.

Sorry for the word vomit but man im in love with this idea. Feel free to comment or send Asks with questions or comments about the au! Please Reblog, and not just like, as they do nothing <3