#no vomit though

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt#128 part 2

Jason had finally made it too a safe house, his eyes blurred everything together and he was having a hard time breathing. His soulmate seemed close to death when they switched and Jason began to worry about making it a little. Thankfully the safe house was close to where his soulmate had been wandering. He was getting a scolding when Jason was finally in his own body he decided. He thankfully remembered the combination for the lock and sat down on the couch after locking the doors behind him. 

His head was pounding and he wanted to do nothing more than lay here on the couch but the sooner he got in contact with Bruce and the rest of them the sooner he could find himself in his own body again. He took closer attention to the one he was inhabiting at the moment and noticed a few things about it. For one he was wearing a shiny silver belt that had some bright green, the kind that seemed a little too close to the green of the pit or his eyes when he got angry. He moved to touch it but when his skin made contact he violently got shocked. Now Jason had gotten electrocuted before, but this was on a whole new level. 

This utterly confused him, why was his soulmate wearing something that would cause him this level of pain? He couldn’t have been wearing it on purpose, maybe he was forced to wear it? The more he thought about it the more pissed off he got. If someone was forcing his soulmate to wear something that caused this level of pain to torture him made Jason nauseous. He took a few breaths to calm himself before he thought about what his next steps should be.

First he was going to check and see what supplies this safe house had, it was one of Bats so there was probably a spare communicator somewhere he could use. He carefully got back up from the couch afraid to touch the damn belt again and began looking. He found some first aid and a communicator right where he thought it’d be and he put it in his ear and spoke,

“Hey, Jason here, finally got to a safe house, buddy when you get here you’ve got some explaining to do”

—————

Danny could feel how tense the car was as Batman drove. He’d  be totally excited to be riding in the Batmobile but dreaded the conversations he was about to have with everyone here, everyone being Batman, his soulmate, and all of the people that could apparently hear everything through the helmet he was wearing. Danny was afraid to take it off at this point seeing as Batman had been almost silent the whole way. 

Danny had a few moments to actually think about things. The most pressing being his soulmate was in his half almost fully dead body. He knew he was wearing ratty clothes and a specter deflector last. They made him wear it at the facility and he really hoped his soulmate hadn’t tried to touch it. 

Another thing that had bothered him is the body he was currently in. It felt off, not half dead like his own but something similar. He could feel the ectoplasm flowing through his veins but it was much less than what he had. Jason was more alive than Danny was especially at the moment. 

He’d panic a bit more about not knowing the state his soulmate and body were except his helmet crackled back to life,

“Hey, Jason here, finally got to a safe house, buddy when you get here you’ve got some explaining to do”

It felt weird hearing his own voice in the tone of a stranger and he felt it was probably the same for him.

“Jason I’m in the car with your soulmate, let me know your position,” Batman said his voice crackled in his ears. Danny wasn’t sure what to say, he was worried about his soulmate but he sounded really pissed. Probably because Danny took his chance to kill the Joker, he assumed his soulmate intended to kill him anyways since the safety was off.

Danny kept silent throughout the rest of the trip after Jason told them his location. He was honestly a little terrified, he wouldn’t doubt that his soulmate knew Batman with the way they were talking to each other so he went through what he knew about the bats. He went through all of the bats he knew and came to the conclusion that his soulmate must have been Red Hood which meant he was in Red Hoods body at the moment and that thought didn’t help comfort him at all. 

That also meant that Red Hood was his soulmate and that terrified him even more. He’d heard stories, mostly from Sam who kept an eye on everything Gotham related seeing as it was her favorite city. Danny missed his friends, they had seen him get kidnapped by the GIW and tried their best to free him but it wasn’t any use.

Danny spent months in the facility and if it wasn’t for the GIWs own incompetence he’d still be there. They had done some terrible things to him during his captivity. They were in the middle of moving him back to his cell when the lights went out. They hadn’t thought to install a back up generator so the ghost shield had temporarily gone down. He was able to fight them back and escape somehow but the belt he was forced to wear made it impossible for him to use his powers. 

He had been on the run for about a week when the switch happened. 

He tensed a little as Batman parked the car. 

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[medusas-graveyard]

In which; the Bats and Birds are looking into Vlad Masters as he is a very new and suspicious figure in the elites. Bruce Wayne meets someone he didn't account for; Masters' God son, coincidentally the only survivor of an accident that took the lives of his family.

Vlad sells a pity party to 'Brucie' Wayne, and invites him over for dinner with his children, boasting about his godson's cooking skills.

The meal was pleasant.

The meat was unfamiliar.

[p4nishers]

crowley, drunk off his ass: and i was yk just some fucked up soul born in cold and rain but he was my fucking sunlight or whatever

hozier, frantically writing on a napkin: HHHMMMM TELL ME MORE

[dragonsbluee]

Every time Cale uses an ancient power and then gets confused when people react in worry I laugh and want to shake him because Cale, CALE YOU NEVER EXPLAIN WHY YOU'RE VOMITING BLOOD.

And here's the thing, vomitting blood, regardles of colour is a sign of serious internal problems, and you know what signs and symptoms you should definitely watch out for afterwards?

Dizziness, especially after standing.

Rapid, shallow breathing.

Or other signs of shock.

So everyone around him makes the very valid assumption the Cale using an ancient power = severe internal bleeding and then Cale goes and usually displays some symptoms of shock (I.E shaky limbs, dizziness, weakness in limbs) and just never explains that he's actually fine. Instead, he tries to get up and keep moving unless he's already fainted.

OF COURSE THEY'RE FREAKING OUT CALE! They think you need serious medical attention and you keep refusing to see a healer or a doctor! (Yes we know you don't want them figuring out how many powers you have and that they can't do anything anyways, but your friends don't!)

Since we don't see what the others are doing every time Cale falls into a coma as a response, I imagine that they're all frantic, trying to figure out what went wrong, how injured he is and how to get him the proper medical care. And then Cale wakes up and is just confused as to why they made it such a big deal.

Like Cale, please, for at least the first few times, they probably thought you were DYING.

[soranker]

have been super busy lately so doodled some wolfies to destress ^_^

[cordeliawhohung]

HERE IS MY MONEY 💶

HERE IS MY VIRGINITY 🌺

HERE ARE MY BONES🦴

YOU CAN TAKE EVERYTHING FROM ME, DESTROY ME, SHAME ME, but only if reader (touch me till I vomit) gets a well deserved hug❗️❗️❗️

AND NOT A QUICK PAT ON THE BACK TYPE OF HUH NO! 🫂 she needs to be HUGGED, EMBRACED!

Great story like the psychological aspect is just *chef's kiss

Lord your story might be better than some published books I've read

XOXO

perhaps this can hold you over for now <3 | non-canon addition to pet!au (tmtiv)

cw: angst, comfort, bittersweet things, simple drabble

It hurts — the metal that digs into your chest.

Gilded tags press against you, scarring your flesh, yet you wrap your arms tighter around the figure in front of you. Pull them closer as if to welcome them within your own rib cage. Prismatic light illuminates the dead grass and fallen leaves beneath your feet. Red, blue, yellow; sirens have long since died and the silence of the forest is overwhelming.

Navy fabric scrapes against your cheek, yet you press your face against it because you hear a heart flutter. It beats and pounds against your face, and you realize that it is the sound of a heart that doesn't want to hurt you. You can finally hear the heart that doesn't belong to a beast. You swear you have never listened to something more emollient in your entire life.

You do not cry until loving limbs embrace you back. A hand on the back of your head, fingers weaving between overgrown hair, a soothing palm running along the aching muscles of your back — you sob. It is guttural. Disgusting. This savior has rescued you in freshly pressed clothes and you thank them by wailing snot all over their uniform. Restless fingers claw at their back as if to destroy them; you fear you might not know how to be kind anymore. Not after this.

"It's alright," the officer whispers. She's a woman. She's a woman. You cry harder. Her voice is soothing, and you realize she is the first person you've been around in months that does not bark at your sorrow. "It's gonna be alright."

"I didn't think anyone was looking for me," you babble, spit leaking from the corners of your mouth as your throat constricts. "I thought I was going to die here!"

Her arms grow firm at your confession. Blood shoots through her veins as her pulse quickens and you wonder if she always reacts this way. If every little detail she runs across in her job as an officer has her heart racing, or if her pity for you grips her so tightly she has no other choice than to cry with you.

"Been looking this whole time," she assures you.

You didn't think you would want someone to touch you after everything you've been through, but you ask her to hold your hand in the ambulance. She's soft. Faint calluses dampened by hand cream. It's then that you realize that it isn't the touch that you've been afraid of, but the pain that comes with it. No snapping of bones or yanking on collars. You don't think this officer cares about you, but she doesn't hate you. She doesn't hate you, and she holds your hand, and doesn't glare at your crying.

At the hospital, when you're stripped bare of your old clothes and collar — the name Bonnie still haunts you somewhere in those walls — they let you sleep. Every few hours a nurse wakes you up to check your vitals, and she asks you if you need anything, and you always say no. You have everything you have always wanted.

In the morning, you wake up alone. No hands to paw at you. No warmth of another body. Just you, the sunshine, a faint rash on your throat and nothing more.

[deancrowleycas]

meat man

[whatimdoing-here]

WARRIOR NUN | Ava calling Beatrice, "Bea"

Request from my @commander0fmyheart but who wouldn't want it.

[extrashortshorts]

purple racoon

[brucie-baby]

the thing about bruce trying to kill the joker is that people always leave it at 'superman stopped him', which is only partially true. superman does stop him but only during the assembly itself. as soon as he's inhaled all the joker gas, he says, "Batman, he's all yours."

he lets bruce have him, and he doesn't step back in until it's time to pull bruce from the water. maybe this is just because it took him a while to dispose of the gas, but i've always seen it as superman essentially giving batman permission of a sort to do what he needed to do.

maybe clark didn't know what bruce would choose - whether he would lock the joker up or put him six feet under - but he trusted bruce's judgement. maybe clark was sure of bruce's intentions, that he truly believed that bruce would do the 'right' thing. or maybe clark knew that bruce was going to kill him, and he took a step back. i don't know if we're ever told, and i don't think i want to know. i just think it's very interesting.

but bruce did fully try to kill the joker. nobody could stop him, and in the end superman didn't try to. the joker had literally been shot and the helicopter was about to explode and bruce left him there to die. the comic ends with bruce yelling to find his body, but thinking, "But I know they won't. That's how things always end with the Joker and me. Unresolved."

[effen-draws]

I'm real sick rn so I could come up with nothing other than to publicly document how bad my luck is in Disco Elysium...

Anywaaaaays all I've been doing this last week is playing this game and I am head-over-heels hyperfixated!! Like why haven't I played this sooner? Am I cursed to always be late to the party??

[poppy-metal]

ugh imagine patrick coming home after a rly stressful practice, sweating so much and all he needs is ur throat

he’s relentlessly fuck ur throat unless u can’t stop gagging and u feel the bile rising and ur squirming to get off of him but u can’t he’s holding ur head down “cmon baby i’m so fucking close just a few more”

and u can’t hold it anymore u get sick all over his lap and he just doesn’t care he’s too close to cumming to care

he keeps going “fuck ur throat is even tighter, baby”

i wonder what it says about me that this made my head spin round n round -

i think you have a signal for when you're ready to tap out forreal that's more than just slapping his thigh - you probably squeeze the back of his knee three times in quick succession or something like that - just because sometimes you like the idea that he'd ignore your pleas for air just to chase his own pleasure.

it's almost fucking routine at this point - to suck his dick when he comes back from practice - but there's something in the air that's different - you think someone probably pissed him off - practice went rough - something like that. hes not mean to you, mot rude - but you can just feel the energy vibrating off him. the tension in his body - regardless, probably even because of this, you're more than eager to offer your mouth to him -

the sweat gleaming off his skin - dripping down his nose - you're already salivating before he even feeds the tip into your mouth. you brace your neck against the edge of your bed - and patrick props one muscled leg onto your mattress for leverage as he rubs all over your lips with his flushed head.

he braces one hand on your bed too, leaning almost fully over you, eclipsing your head between his thighs and you just loop up as he groans - "fuuuuck -" he groans and yeah, hes real pent up. he uses his other hand, fishhooking fingers in your mouth just to feel it get wide, feel into the wet pink maw he's about to fucking pummel on his cock. grips himself around his thick base and dips in just a few centimeters - your mouth, as spread wide as it can go - can barely create space for him. your lips skimming the sides of his dick. but then he says, "wrap your lips around it -" and that sweet mouth closes around him and he's fully encased in the warm wet sheath you've given him -

"ah, yeah - needed this so fucking bad - " he starts working his hips, sawing his dick in and out - already he's hitting the back of your throat - head punching the back of your esophagus. your eyes water and overflow and spill down your cheeks as you gag around him -

he braces both forearms on the bed, brings his other knee up so he's nearly straddling your head - and he pushes alllllll the way in - to the hilt. "yeah -" he chokes out. his eyes are closed his lips parted in bliss. he wasn't lying when he said he needed this - was fucking on edge earlier, fucking agitated - being agitated and horny is the worst fucking combination and he just - he needs - he loves you, he loves you - and he loves you more because you let him use you like this - you let him use you like you're nothing - nothing more than a fucking warm wet hole for him to empty his fucking balls into -

"god, fuck, i need to cum - need to cum in this fucking throat -"

he's getting there - quicker than he usually would, can feel his nuts drawing up - the wet slap of his sack hitting your chin and he groans because he cant see it from this angle but he can feel it - feel how fucking wet and messy you're getting for him - soaking his cock and dripping down your chin - gurgling around him and your hands come up to his tensed flexing thighs and he's so fucking relieved when you slap him - but you dont give those three squeezes - so fucking thankful he can ignore you -

your mouth has been filling with spit for awhile now - dripping down the sides of your lips as he fucks in and out but as your gag reflux is bullied over and over again you feel that tell tale jump in the back of your throat - flem coming from the pit of your stomach - sick wet viscous fluid pooling in your pallet around the thick intrusion of his cock and your feet start sliding against your carpet, your hands come up to slap at his thighs - but you dont tap out seriously - and the fucking pulse your pussy gets when patrick huffs and ignores your desperate hits to his massive legs, gag helplessly around him -

"fuck, just take it - I'm so fucking close - you don't need to breath, just eat this fucking cum im about to give you -"

your throat spasms, you hold it back for as long as you can but you cant anymore and all the spitup, fluid, milky and bubbley and hot floods around his dick like a fountain and your throat pulses rhythmically as you gag and everything spills out around his dick down your chest -

and patrick just - just fucking groans. deep in his chest - speeds up the smack of his cock into your throat -

"oh yeah, that's hot - fucking wet little hole - hh-"

his dick kicks in your throat - balls pulsing as his cum spurts out thick and warm right into your fucking stomach. he fucks sloppily into the wet mess of your throat before slowly dragging his softening cock out -

he peers down at you from between his legs - fucking moans when he sees the fucking river of fluid that floods from your mouth now that it has free space to empty -

reaches down to tug on his wet cock - wet from he doesn't even fucking know what but its slick and hot and wet wet wet and your eyes are fucking dazed and your face is fucked.

god, you're pretty.

[emetosecretplace]

my roommate is out and I am stoned once again so I filled up on chips and water and then vomited into the sink

[sunset-boy-thing]

I wanna snuggle with a cute nauseous girl so badly... I wanna rub her tummy and hold her hair back as she pukes... I wanna make out with her while she's trying to hold it in for as long as possible... I want to take care of her... Just thinking about that rn

[autistic-daniil-dankovsky]

remember this? well. let's go!

both ena and an have pretty famous fathers, and it was always somewhat expected of them to be worthy of their legacy, in some way. both of them were told, "of course you're good at art - you're shinei's daughter!" and "of course you're good at singing - you're ken's daughter!" respectively.

they were always perceived via their fathers, not allowed to step outside their shadow and be seen for themselves. they couldn't be ena or an.

and, you know, for a time, they went along with it. i mean, they were good at what they were doing.

but then... all comes crashing down.

for ena, there's the obvious bullshit that's going on with shinei. completely destroying her. because she admired her father, because he was the reason she wanted to do art to begin with, and he told her to her face that she would never be good enough.

her entire world fell apart, that day.

because no matter what she says, ena wants the approval of her father more than anything else. she wants him to tell her that she's worthy of being his daughter, that all her hard work amounts to something; anything.

but then, there's the eventual revelation that she wasn't anything, actually. she wasn't special.

everyone was better than her.

before, ena was a fish in a small pond, and of course, she was among the best. but now she's been dropped in a vast ocean, and she's small, and insignificant.

devoured by all the other fish.

one of them - and admittedly, the most important of them all - being futaba. she joined after ena, but she proved herself in much less time than her. and, even succeeded where ena failed - she never gave up, even when she was harshly criticised. never regressing artistically. never running away from art.

and there's something else, somewhere deep down - a fear. a fear that nightcord will abandon her when they realise she can't keep up with them. that she's not as good as they thought she was.

what will happen of her, then? she'll be all alone. unloved.

an goes through something similar.

she meets kohane, and she decides that this person is going to be her partner. that they're going to surpass THE rad weekend together, that no one could be better for this task but her.

but when she starts that relationship, it's with the assumption that she'll always be the teacher and that kohane will always be the student.

not in a mean, or pretentious way, no, not at all. simply, an was always told there was no way she couldn't surpass rad weekend, since she was ken's daughter. in her small pond, she was also among the very best.

but then, an realises something, too.

kohane is much better at everything than she is.

very similarly to ena's situation with futaba, kohane made much more progress in barely a year than an has in years. taiga - one of the old RADers, and somewhat of an uncle for an - recognised her potential, and asked to train her. not an, but kohane.

and of course, an is happy to know that! because that's her partner and friend, and an is happy to see her grow more confident and get better every day. because she cares. because she loves her.

but there's something in her chest - something that hurts and aches. she has to face the fact that she's not as good as she thought she was, that she isn't worthy of her father's legacy. that she isn't worthy of being kohane's partner, that she might be holding her back.

that she might be abandoned. left behind to rot.

what will happen of her, then? she'll be all alone. unloved.

to me - ena and an are two kids suffering under the weight of a legacy that's too heavy for them to carry, but that they can't let go of. they're also struggling with seeing their peers succeed where they repeatedly fail. they're all about being terrified of being abandoned because they're not good enough.

they're both confronted by this fact.

and it terrorises them.

[ei-encora]

the first frienderbender is usually the roughest, but you get used to 'em after a while