#trying to force a habit and all that jazz

[ohbo-ohno]

dont have to answer but i'm fighting sleep right now to get a few more scenes done on fics

i'd love to hear more about this arch nemesis of yours the blue curtains?

oh LMAO i was talking about this old tumblr post that goes around and resparks discourse every once in a while!

it drives me craaaaazy bc i love love love to overanalyze things and pick apart every single line. also my mother is an english teacher so i grew up surrounded by literary analysis and things of the sort lol, i was learning about color symbolism from her in like early elementary school

also as a writer it's like. if the curtains are called out as specifically blue, that's for a reason. if they were just telling you the curtains are there, they'd say "the curtains were drawn" or smth. the fact that the color blue is specifically noted is intentional, and the author wouldn't have included it if there wasn't a purpose - especially when you're reading smth that's being analyzed in an english class, so it's usually some higher level stuff!! the curtains are never just blue!!!

anyways, people usually quote this post as a sort of "ugh you're looking into it too much" thing and i just think thats Boring

[radiance1]

Alfred Pennyworth has in fact, perhaps, in the slightest of chances.

Picked up his Master's habit of collecting children as if they were on sale.

He was spending his time on one of those rare vacations he decided to take, it was nice, to relax with only the vague overhanging worry of something going wrong back at the manor that he's gotten very good at ignoring.

Only to come across a child bleeding out in an alley, heavily injured.

He would not be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to help them however he could.

Such is how he acquired a child he later found to be a meta who whished to learn the ways of a butler.

---

Danny had escaped from a GIW compound, after having been handed over by his family a while after his reveal. He felt, completely and utterly betrayed, when it happened. His parents, while hurt, he was at least capable of actually seeing them do it, but never would he have thought Jazz would do so as well.

They did it so happily, that he wondered if letting him go really was the greatest thing to happen to this family.

He chained, muzzled, all the ways to bind him they pulled all the stops too, knowing how dangerous he was. He wouldn't have even done anything then, too stunned by his families apart willingness at handing him over to the government.

He hated them.

He hated them so much.

The GIW facility was a terrible, cold, unfeeling place. One where they drilled thoughts into his head again and again until he found himself unconsciously repeating them when his head felt empty, one where his body gained a new mark day by day and pushed through tests, he had no clue of even hoping to comprehend what they would gain out of it.

It was a cold, unfeeling place. Placed in a cell of white and nothing else, with low walls and chains binding his body in place until the time came for another experiment.

It was a room he grew used to. One he even held some kind of strange, twisted affection for.

It was a room that held a tiny piece of safety, of rest. It was a room that taught him to hate.

A deep, powerful, disgusting, twisting hatred that crawled from the depths of his cells, corrupting his blood and carving itself deep into his bones. Forcing it's out of his pores until it practically oozed from his flesh.

It drowned his mind, tainting each and every thought, every memory, every dream, every waking moment until he could feel nothing but hatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehatehate.

When he was taken out of that he could feel nothing, with the drugs swimming their way through his blood that snapped the thin string keeping him between a person and an emotionless puppet.

He thinks that's what the GIW thinks he is.

And when he was placed back in that room, he could only hate.

It was a cycle. Stuck between feeling either nothing or hatred.

He hated feeling nothing, it made him feel like he wasn't real. Like it snapped the thread that held him between what a real person was and a dream.

So, he allowed himself to drown deep into his hatred. Until the white walls of his far to small room seemed to fade, until whatever sound he could have heard became nothing but dull noise.

Until the passage of time seemed to become just a blink.

He didn't know what day it was, when he saw it. Saw them. He didn't know the time, the date, the day, the hours. He knew nothing.

But he could recognize his family. Recognize one of the objects of his intense hatred that he forced his thoughts too. The people who willingly gave him up just like that and one of the causes for his current life.

He didn't know why they showed him them, he felt it some sick, utterly cruel joke. A joke he didn't know the punchline for, a joke the universe sent his way to make his life all the more miserable.

There were multiple of them. Multiple clones of his family. Som within test tubes, some being pulled out from the tubes, some walking around in lab coats. A waste of talent, they called it in his dad's case, a waste of intelligence in his mother's, and a waste of intellect in his sister's case.

His original family was already dead, he was told. Replaced by clones, clones that took over the legal decision to change his guardianship. Clones walking around twisting and desecrating his family.

'At least it was painless.' One of the clones said, talking with his mother's face. 'Far more than they deserved for having keeping a thing like him' spoken by his father's imposter.

The drugs pumping through his system to keep him calm, to keep him feeling nothing was suddenly pierced through by an intense feeling of horror, hate and self-loathing.

He should've known it wasn't his family. He should've done more! More to protect them! To keep them safe! The could've still been alive if he just knew.

In that moment, watching imposters speaking, walking, talking, breathing, with his families faces. He exploded. Exploded with a power fueled by nothing but his intense hatred for every. Single. Living being in this goddamn facility.

He killed whoever stood in his way. Managing to get his hands on relatively newly designed weapon, an ectoplasmic scythe (that also apparently could revert into an everyday item). Which he used to rip and tear throughout the entirety of the facility. He got injured, of course, he couldn't dodge everything, but he didn't care.

A body stuck between life and death, incapable of fully going one way or the other no matter what happened. Gifted supernatural powers fueled by wrath and twisting hatred and a weapon made by man yet in the range of the supernatural.

They didn't stand a change. He killed them all. No matter who it was, man, woman, clone. He didn't, couldn't care. He could only kill, only maim, only hurt.

And that's what he did.

It was then, when the facility was blanketed with silence tainted by despair, death and hysteria. When previously white walls were covered by blood, and the halls turned into rivers of blood and corpses. That he broke down, the overwhelming hatred he felt replaced by relief then sadness then self-loathing.

His family didn't give him up! But they were killed. Kill because of him. He couldn't stand being in this place, anymore. His body felt as if it were moving on unseen strings as it walked through the halls, the scythe shrinking back what it was when out of combat, his mind too occupied by thoughts and feelings.

It walked through a portal, one to the ghost zone, and then promptly into another portal and spat him out into an alleyway. Which he then promptly collapsed and curled into a ball, curing the shrunken scythe in his palm and he was out like a light.

A few days after he woke up, he found himself growing attached to the human that found him in that alleyway. An old man, maybe, but a nice one. He didn't want to meet anyone, besides that man, so he turned invisible when anyone else come into contact with him.

Alfred Pennyworth.

It was a name he clung onto mentally and a man he clung onto physically as well. He wanted to be like that man, someone so nice and caring, someone who didn't mind that he turned invisible at the sing of another person, who let him cling onto him both invisible and not whenever he wanted to.

He did panic when he heard Alred saying his vacation was over, and such that he had to leave. He didn't want to be left alone again, he didn't know what he would do if he was left alone again.

Until Afred said we were going home.

We. As in, him plus another. Alfred plus Danny.

Home.

Heat blossomed in his chest, seeming to replace the constant, low hum of hate sitting beneath him skin.

Home.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Alastor x FReader.

CW: angst, P in V sex, tentacles, biting, blood, dominance (Alastor), submission (Reader), ropes, bondage, punishment, spanking, breath play, sensory play, sensory deprivation, hard sex, multiple orgasms, sensory overload, edging overstimulation, crying, friction burn from ropes. (Small amount of breeding kink if you squint) (Use of a noose, but not in the way you think, Alastor's basically a sassy bitch).

(+ aftercare for 'reader').

Word Count: 9240.

Forever Bound.

The agonised screams as acid rain hits the sizzling flesh of the sinners caught in the raging storm outside, the pleasant burn of full-bodied rye as it slides smoothly down his throat, the smell of acrid tobacco drifting across the bar from Husk’s filthy habit, and the sight of Angel Dust once again trying to tease and sexually harass the aforementioned bartender.

All of these things were a vague awareness for Alastor as he idly drums his claws on the split woodgrain of the conjured drinking booth he sat at for privacy, eyeing you from across the room with as much subtlety as a bull in a China shop.

You piqued his interest, always so avoidant of him, except for when there was no escape, then you were utterly caustic with him. Alastor found this to be unusual behaviour, you were so affable with the others... skittish, but affable... so why did he always seem to rub you the wrong way, granted he was a powerful overlord, but he’d seen you speak with Rosie just fine.

Cute, was one word he’d often thought of when he enjoyed riling you up, your fuzz getting even fuzzier, especially your tail, oh he so adored teasing you, your look of utter fury despite being so very small, and your tail, oh your tail... his own tail was easily hidden away, secreted from the others, but your tail was much too magnificent for that, long, flat, wide, with a delightful curl at the end, and a divine reddish colour.

It was rather striking, Alastor smiled to himself as he contemplated and schemed about how best to invade your personal space today, purely to enjoy the sight of your tail frizzing up and eyes dart about while you tried to find an exit, he wondered if you would try to literally climb to get away from him this time, just like the other day when you'd scrambled up the banister of the main staircase, oh that had been most entertaining.

As he stewed in his scheming he listened to your laughter as Vaggie explained how she and Charlie had gone to the store yesterday only to meet a sinner who had fallen face first into the bag of rice they had been toting once they saw the Princess of Hell doing a regular grocery shop, Vaggie had been beside herself in tears of laughter while the ‘kind’ Charlie had helped the ‘poor’ sinner out, she had even bought his groceries for him.

Alastor swirled his rye a bit before knocking back the rest of the drink with a satisfied crackle of static, glass thudding back down on the table, his eyes still affixed to you and the way your cherub like cheeks looked adorable when you smiled... that sight alone was what forced him to act, his own smile curling higher, perhaps it was a little too much rye that forced his hand, but he wouldn’t regret his next actions if it got him what he needed from you.

Your attention soul.

Drawing on the wispy feeling of his umbrakinesis he traverses through the shadows to the unoccupied space behind you, reforming silently before bending forward so his chin hovers over your shoulder, getting as close as possible without actually touching you, mouth by your ear, your tail almost touching his pinstripe coat.

“What a delightful afternoon we’re having wouldn’t you agree Dear?” Watching in utter delight as you react to his startling presence.

Jumping in fright and almost colliding with his chin you yelp in shock; you had spied Alastor earlier but had been confident he was too busy with his jazz and rye to bother you this afternoon and had deemed it safe to stand around socialising.

You wince as you taste the sharp metallic tang of blood from biting your tongue, “I’ll be going out Vaggie,” you say nonchalantly, whilst endeavouring to ignore the demon who seems to always send a prickly electrical current through your entire nervous system whenever he comes into close proximity with you.

“Now Dear, I don’t think you would enjoy a stroll out in the acid rain right now. Perhaps, if you’d like an outdoors experience you would be thrilled to accompany my good self for a stroll, as you may be aware I do have a rather authentic bayou in my private quarters, the perfect indoor, outdoors escapade, with none of the risk of treacherous pesky weather patterns.” Alastor gestures in the direction of the lobby staircase, trying for an endearing smile.

You start to shake your head, mouth opening to politely refuse the offer, your heart racing as your nervous nature screams at you, ‘DANGER’. However, before you have the chance to decline, Charlie’s jubilant voice interrupts.

“What a wonderful idea Alastor, this is sooo awesome, oh my goodness, well done for reaching out and making an effort to be involved, I know you’ve both had your differences, and this is perfect! I think it would be excellent for the both of you to get to know one and other, oh well done Alastor, I know you don’t usually like getting involved in our redemption activities, I’m so proud of you.”

Charlie then looks at you, with those big hopeful eyes, as Alastor's grin freezes, but he doesn’t argue with Charlie, his own intentions being far less than innocent, but he refuses to let anyone know the inner workings of his mind, he almost laughs as he hears a loud scream from the city below, one more sinner clearly having reached their demise in the biting rain.

You almost recoil, your whole-body vibrating, screaming at you to escape... your instincts get ignored inevitably, the distinct scent of Alastor drifting over you, the rye on his breath, his woodsmoke, iron and musky smell fragrant and intoxicating.

You stay rooted to the spot, Charlie is technically in charge of the rehabilitation process, so if you refuse her ‘exercises’, you might get kicked out... if not by her, then the facility manager (Alastor) who is waiting with a shark like grin for your answer might take it upon himself to eject you... right out into the acid pouring outside, the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, as you see no alternative solutions.

With a pained smile you make eye contact with Alastor, your stomach swooping, your heart palpitating, “that would be lovely, thank you for the offer,” you say through gritted teeth acquiescing to the veiled demand, you are very tempted to sprint out into the acid rain instead of being alone with the Radio Demon... being the subject of his undivided attention.

“Oh Darling, of course, think nothing of it, allow me to escort you.” Alastor holds his arm out like a gentleman, a shiver of fear prickles up your spine in response.

To Charlie’s utter exhilaration, Alastor takes your hand and threads your arm through his and marches you off towards the stairwell, your legs feel like jelly, but his stride is even, so you scramble to keep up.

You take one last desperate beseeching look at Vaggie over your shoulder, and she gives you a sympathetic shrug as Charlie practically buzzes in excitement at her side.

Alastor natters for the whole trip to the upper floors, leading you to your doom his bedroom, as you numbly look at anything but him, paying attention to the abundance of the apple decor around the hotel, anxiety spiking at an all-time high, not listening to a word he says as your mind races with potential escape plans, (your tail frizzing up from his static energy), which he notices delightedly.

You don’t notice the crackle of his radio tone cutting out briefly after he says your name for the fifth time as he tries to garner your attention, this time he says it accompanied by a tap on your nose, which makes you blink rapidly, flinching as your eyes and mind come back into focus.

His sharp grin screams peril and you react defensively, “What?” You ask rudely, annoyed at your lack of recourse.

“Oh, Dearest you are hilarious,” he mocks without bothering to repeat himself, annoying you even more. If it was so important to disturb your clearly distant thoughts, surely it should be important enough to enlighten you once your attention was actually directed at him.

You give him an impatient, unimpressed look, and he snickers again.

“We’ve arrived of course, silly Doe.”

You shake your head to clear it again, acutely aware that he had called you a ‘doe’, apt really considering you’re part squirrel, but you felt funny with the way he had uttered it, the sound full of implications, you’re also very aware he’s a buck, which seemed to be the whole reason he brought up your animalistic status, choosing to ignore the bait and not wanting to risk his wrath currently, in such an isolated situation, you nod at him.

He ushers you inside, still feeling rather dazed you take in the peculiar sight of his room, he hadn't been lying, the room certainly appeared how described previously, half bedroom, with sparse furniture, the other half of the room an extensive bayou.

Your stomach dropped; it would be very easy to hide your body in there. You idly wonder how many bodies he had hidden away in there, and just how vast it might be... is it some sort of pocket dimension...

He looks down at you observing every minute detail of your reaction, wanting to reach out and touch your fluffy tail, instead his fingers snap several times in front of your face, disturbing you from wandering thoughts yet again, the warmth of this area of the room feeling even warmer in the intimacy of being alone in his bedroom with such a beautiful little doe, one that occupies his thoughts persistently... confusingly.

“My Dear, are you quite alright.” Alastor makes a show of checking your temperature with the back of his hand, his craving to touch you overriding all other senses and you jump away from him yet again, feeling annoyed at your reaction, but he doesn’t let it show.

You nod, as he laughs at you, “I’m fine,” you don’t back down, wanting to get this over with as fast and painlessly as possible.

So, despite your protesting body, you seize his arm and start trying to haul him off into the treeline.

It did smell rather fresh and aromatic in here, it was quite pleasant, not that you’d admit it to him.

Alastor hums amused but elated, deliberately setting a slow pace, that you cannot (try as you might) make him a shred swifter, your efforts having no effect on the much stronger overlord, to your dismay.

You exhale heavily and disengage from his arm, not allowing you freedom however, he quickly takes a hold of your hand, looping it back into the cook of his elbow again, as he continues escorting you, every step deliberate and exaggerated, making you feel outraged.

Without a word you amble together painstakingly, concentrating on anything other than the strong arm beneath your palm, the feeling of the squishy moss beneath your shoes, the rustle of a breeze (you can’t tell whether or not is artificial) in the trees and through your hair, the green and brown encircling you both on all sides, darkening as you both traverse deeper and deeper within, isolating you with him, you try valiantly to ignore the heat radiating from his body, or how pleasant awful it feels, the air thickens, your breathing growing laboured with tension.

You shiver, you hadn’t dressed for outdoor weather so were getting fairly chilly.

As you continue the odd journey undisturbed, you begin to think it felt rather nice, despite the company and the silence stretching on, and even with the warning bells ringing in your head, you start to relax infinitesimally as he appeared content to leave you undisturbed... famous last words.

“I think it would be wearisome if we keep proceeding silently my Dear, and I’ve been utterly intrigued by you for a while,” he supresses his mirth as he observes your tail frizz back up.

Static skating up your skin at the sound of his voice your body erupts in goosebumps, you try to convince yourself are unpleasant, but you can’t deny that this time it doesn’t feel so terrible, it seems after long exposure to him in the bayou, your body’s response didn’t feel like a warning, you can’t deny it, especially as it seems to evoke heat within, to your detriment you had to mentally stop yourself leaning into him to seek out more warmth.

You decide to humour him, if only to keep him talking, wanting more of the sensations.

“What has you intrigued about me... I mean I’m just a lowly sinner after all, wh-...”

“Why your aversion to me of course,” ever the diplomat, “for a while now I’ve noticed you avoiding me Little Doe, and I can’t help feeling slightly wounded by your actions, why do you treat everyone else so much more preferably? I feel perhaps that you don’t like me, not one little bit,” Alastor clutches his heart for dramatic effect.

“Well... I ermm... I just know all about you? Everyone has told me how dangerous you are, and I’d just rather keep my distance and not risk...”

“Don’t try to fool me with half-truth's Darling, there’s more you aren’t sharing, I can ascertain that for myself, or you wouldn’t flee the very sight of me when you know with certainty, I wouldn’t hurt a resident of our dear Charlie’s fine establishment... I would be a poor host indeed if I started killing off the wayward souls seeking redemption, not to mention how terribly bored I’d get when those seeking pointless help stopped turning up.” Alastor’s voice lowered dangerously the static increasing in his tone, he hates being lied to, especially by you, certainly in this moment, when he finally has you to himself, unable to spurn his company.

Alastor has found you running through his mind more and more lately, his days revolving around your routines, he tried to compromise with his unusual feelings, trying to interact with you as much as possible, yet your constant rejection persistently pains him, and now... Now he’s finally confronting you about it and you have the gall to try deceiving him with falsehood, when he can smell exactly what his presence is doing to you.

Alastor is very aware now as to how your body responds to him, his nostrils flare, the aroma he scents from you right now isn’t fear, fear is bitter, this is sweet, cloying, intoxicating, his eyes flicker to radio dials as he must take a firm hold of his self-control.

Your adrenaline spikes, and you start tugging, but you can’t get your hand free, “Alastor... I...”

“Another of your lies and you won’t appreciate the consequences Little Doe, so think before you speak, as I won’t allow another lie to go unpunished... and I want to assure you, I’ll know if you do.” Alastor uses his height to intimidate, towering over you menacingly.

Your heart pounds in your chest, your body shaking, his warmth and musk overpowering your faculties, you violently shake your head, at an utter loss for words.

Alastor chuckles at the visual, still keeping a firm deterring grip on your hand, he wouldn’t be surpised if he let go, if you proceeded by scrambling up a tree.

“You know what I think Little Doe? I think that you crave me,” Alstor’s heated body pressing closer to yours, “and you’re too terrified of your own feelings to even realise that’s precisely what you desire.”

You whimper quietly but his ignores you and presses on, his presence making you spiral, especially when he reaches to brush a strand of your hair from your face, causing all attempts to get away from him to halt as you freeze.

“Your body is responding to mine so deliciously, can’t you feel it? Every time you try escaping those feelings, you’re in denial, but I know better,” he leans down right beside your ear, a shiver running up your spine.

“I... can... smell... you,” he whispers his voice sending tingles all over you, your skin erupting in goosebumps yet again, eyes flying wide as he finishes enunciating teasingly.

You shake your head in denial, eyes wide in panic, your legs threatening to give way, and you try to fruitlessly tug at your trapped arm again, he growls deeply in warning about lying.

However, being completely overwhelmed you ignore the admonition, you can’t flee, you don’t freeze this time... so you fight... verbally.

“I’d rather be hanged again than crave anything you have to offer,” you snap, your free hand suddenly flying to your mouth in horror, you know you’ve really done it now.

His predatory smile widens, and several shadow tentacles burst menacingly from the ground, he releases his grip on you as all your limbs are restrained tightly in their grasp, one winding around your waist for support, you're hoisted into the air with ease and a fearful squeak, until you’re eye level with him, a good two feet off the ground.

“I warned you Little Doe,” Alastor growls, his claw gently tracing down your cheek leaving a tingling in its wake.

Prowling around you with growls still escaping him, once Alastor gets behind you, he tugs on your tail, your body trembling, you begin, hyperventilating, he simply flattens it out like a rug, and he shakes it like one too, several times until he makes a small satisfied hum of static, making you growl back at him.

“I’ve wanted to do that for some time now,” Alastor chuckles, calming slightly at your response, enjoying antagonising you, feeling at ease now, his tone completely lightening again at your helplessness, feeling every facet of your fear and desire from your scent alone.

“Now, about you, and your proclivity to lie to all powerful beings... well we’ve certainly got to correct that pesky behaviour for a start, I did warn you Dear that there would be punishment.”

He steps closer to you, circling back around to your front brushing against your tail and the fabric of your clothes as he goes, at least now granting you a visual on his location, you had been nearly panicking with him being behind you whilst you’re defenceless, your breathing calms slightly as he comes back into view.

You watch as his ears twitch, your cheeks flush at the cute visual, as he contemplates his next move, his grin looks paticularly malevolant as he slowly pulls off his jacket, rearranging the tentacles, he slips it over you, threading your arms through the long sleeves and shortening them with his magic so the tentacles can wind back around your wrists... You’re bound again, admittidly much warmer, but now engulfed in his heady scent, and it instantly drives you crazy.

You can’t believe how good that smell is to your senses, you feel a flood of heat in your tummy and underwear, you try to clear your head, but your nose just wants to bury itself into the warm heaven wafting upwards.

Alastor smirks when your cheeks flush even darker, knowing full well what’s happening as his body had been releasing pheramones for a while now in reaction to your arousal.

You feel lightheaded as he stops inches from your face, “Ready to admit it?”

You shake your head again, but don’t even notice how you didn’t protest to the fact that there is something to admit.

He dramatically sighs but looks utterly gleeful, he clicks his fingers and more tentacles spawn, ascending your legs, making you whimper and squirm, they ghost up your thighs, teasing the edge of your panties under your skirt, but withdraw at the last moment, skirting back down your legs maddeningly, stroking all the exposed sensitive flesh they can find.

Your temperature seems to raise even higher as now touch comes into play, and so as a twist he decides to deprive you of a sense this time, taking off his bowtie he gets a tentacle to hold your head still, and binds the tie over your eyes, and everything goes dark.

He takes a moment to admire the sight of you all wrapped up just for him, vulnerable, and whimpering, he would think you’d panic at what he just did, but it only seemed to turn you on more as his sensitive nose picks up a fresh wave of sweet floral heat from you.

He continues his control, gliding the tentacles he commands silently all over you, as you try to take utterly pointlessly shallow breaths trying to not breathe in his scent as you dangle in mid-air, the scent heady and making you feel drunk, but with every gasp and whine you inhale more and more.

His tentacles driving you insane as you are unable to anticipate where any of them are coming from or going next, the blindfold making you jumpy, your knickers are drowned at this point, yet the refusal of the tentacles to touch anywhere you actually need them to has you utterly quivering and unable to hold in your rising sounds of need and protest.

Alastor leans his cane against a tree, feeling utterly buoyant as he hums a tune, marking another sense off his internal list, making sure you will break completely and perfectly for him, the power making his cock twitch in interest.

Only one left he thinks gleefully, so he uses his powers to keep the tentacles going, as his microphone begins to play one of his favourite jazz tunes so you won’t hear him approaching, this final sense he’ll have to do himself, but because of everything else so far, he knows just from your delightful sounds, this is what will tip you over the edge.

He has noted you haven’t once said no, or asked him to stop, but he does keep in mind that if you utter those words, he will respect them, a bastard he may be, but he’s not that sort of demon, in fact he notices you haven’t said anything since he took control, he tries to determine if it’s fear of him, or fear of your own feelings, too scared to ask for more, too cowardly to admit you like it.

Adjusting himself with his hand, he moves so he can feel your body heat radiating off you, getting close enough he has to hold his breath, he raises a finger and traces its tip across your lips, dragging it along the seam and your whole body shudders, you moan to his utter delight, he withdraws his finger as your tongue comes out trying to catch it, all the confirmation he needs, and while you groan in displeased agony he crashes his lips onto yours.

His tongue plundering and dancing with yours as you sigh in bliss, finally getting some real contact, the taste of him so deliciously enticing you don’t even think twice about reciprocating, your tongue eagerly venturing out to meet his.

Every touch, every lap of his tongue against yours is a shock to your system in the darkness of the makeshift blindfold, his hands maddeningly never once straying to your body as the tickling and stroking of the tentacles increases, sending shivers all over your body, his scent still a vast ocean around you, the sound of jazz not nearly loud enough to ground you, when you moan into his mouth you feel him smirk as he withdraws yet again and you nearly cry out for him, your legs trembling against the appendages wrapped around them as even more slide up your back as you desperately try to lean forward seeking him out blindly.

He chuckles, sensing victory is near, you yelp as you feel your tail tugged on again, already overly sensitive from the teasing and heightened sensations of being plunged into darkness, your skin burning with static from the energy he exudes, you felt like a live wire about to spark. You can feel the fluids literally running down your leg, the barrier of your knickers doing nothing anymore.

His alluring voice sounds in your right ear once more, “Ready to confess Pet?”

You whimper, your senses on high alert, you turn you head toward where you can hear him, another stronger waft of his scent has you weak, wanting fulfillment, your pussy swollen, dripping and aching, you moan again, your brain not functioning at full capacity as you can’t comprehend what he’s talking about.

You shiver again the tentacles never ceasing their torment, he laughs as he watches you pout trying to lean toward him for more stimulation.

“Soon Little Doe,” Alastor promises, “First you must admit why you’ve been running away from me and being a mean Little Pet to me for months now.” He boops your nose startling you, making him laugh once more.

“Tell me Dear One, what do I do to you that makes you literally climb banisters to flee my presence.”

You whimper for another moment you pussy spasming, clenching around thin air desperately, you’d given up trying to avoid his smell and embraced drinking it in greedily now, if he could see your eyes, he would barely be able to see the coloured rings of them.

“Y-you,” you take yet another deep breath, your whole body vibrating like a tuning fork as you try to writhe and buck agaisnt the tentacles to no avail. “You, make me wet, fuuuck... Alastor, please... I’ve been avoiding you... because everything about you sets off every instinct inside me... and, and, and... it scares me... but fuck it makes me horny so badly...”

“Oh really? And what pray tell do you do when I make you horny, other than flee?” He grins, using his breath to send goosebumps all over your neck as he tickles your ear with it, blowing gently.

“Please... Al...” You cry out more impatient than ever before, “stop teasing, I beg of you...”

“Ha, no.” Alastor laughs at you, and you nearly cry at the torment, your whole body getting no reprieve from the writhing mass stimulating you.

Gasping as one lingers for longer near your mound this time, you hasten to answer hoping for relief, “I run to my room, and I fuck myself on my fingers until I cry your name... Please Al, oh fuck please!” Tears sliding down your face.

The world seems to shift around you, you feel almost car sick, the blindfold is ripped from your face, you blink rapidly against the now blinding brightness, he’s petting your hair soothingly and you realise you’re both back in the more ‘normal’ portion of his bedroom, a wrought iron bed dominating the area, you were sure that wasn’t there when you’d entered.

He cups your face before you can regain anymore sense and kisses you fiercely in reward, granting you a boon for your honesty, you moan eagerly, clutching at his body, not even noticing the tentacles had freed you as you wrap yourself around him pleadingly, almost dry humping him as he snogs you soundly, drawing out your tongue to suck on, making you moan yet again.

“There’s a good Pet... now that you’ve finally admitted it to yourself, we can get down to business... and I’m not through with you yet Little Doe, but first your punishment.”

You groan in protest, but he silences you with a look, his sharp grin predatory, threatening, and despite your desperate need your body and mind react instinctively, deferring to him automatically, accepting your fate a little too willingly for your tastes, but what were you to do?

You lower your head, tilting to the side in submission, he growls in approval.

“You were cruel Little Doe, and I want your penance, or I will make it so you cannot cum for a week.”

You maddened with lust and need by now nearly scream in frustrated fear, shaking your head manically, making him laugh again, his scent making you lean toward him again wanting nothing more than to get lost in him, devour every iota of him and be devoured in return.

“Fine, do it... punish me, please... please don’t leave me like this... I’ll do anything.” You beg him frantically, your body aflame.

“There’s my good Little Doe,” Alastor says light-heartedly, scratching you behind your small, pointed ears.

He snaps his fingers and without further ado you’re plunged back into darkness, you feel suddenly chilly and vulnerable as the cool air hits your skin all at once, you have no moment to react to your sudden exposure as you feel yourself dragged and sprawled on your stomach over a strong pair of warm, furry thighs.

Immediately you realise what’s going to happen and a new flood of unimpeded slick drenches your own thighs to his utter delight, he takes a moment to run a slim digit up the inside of your thigh, gathering the juice making you shiver and press into his hand with a needy whine.

He hums in approval when he tastes you for the first time, the sound of pleasure from him causing another jolt to your core despite being unable to see him, he exaggerates the wet licking sounds for your benefit, watching your reactions keenly.

“Delicious... Now, two strikes for every month of avoidance and pain you’ve caused me, and another five on top for your lies and cruel remarks earlier, so a grand total of fifteen,” he says in a husky growl, you can even hear his smile, it was malicious.

You wait, flinching with every breeze ghosting your backside.

He entertains himself for several moments just watching you tense, writhing and trying to anticipate his actions, so instead he idly runs his fingers up and down your back soothingly, the fur of your tail brushing the back of his hand.

He planned keep it up for a while, except the sight of you so helpless yet willing and pliant has him unable to hold back for much longer, needing to take from you what he wants most so he can figure out why you affect him so strongly, and to stop you from ever being able to leave, watching your pleasure has him harder than he’s ever been in his life, the power over you has him feeling things he’s never felt before, and he’s too far gone to even begin unravelling what it signifies.

An almost imperceptible swish and you hiss as the sting on your backside jolted you with slight shock more than pain.

“Count, and thank me each time, or I shall begin again each time.” Instructional, his voice betraying no emotion.

You nod blindly, with a yelp as the next sting burns, your bum flinching away causing your hips to grind against his thigh, and you realise your error, “One, thank you Alastor.”

“Master,” he corrects, wanting you to get accustomed to the idea.

“Master,” you parrot obediently, already a sopping leaking mess, Alastor’s thigh getting wet already.

You tremble in his lap, hyper aware of the hard thick rod pressing into your tummy.

In your distraction another swish and an audible slap, you wince, a groan escaping your throat, “Two, thank you A-Master.”

The warning growl to not make the error again has you squirming on him, and the next swift smack comes even harder, your arse begins to throb, heating up from the abuse as you can’t stop your audible reactions either, grunting louder in pain.

SMACK, you cry out in pain as the next strike hurts, tears start forming again, wetting the blindfold further, you choke out the gratitude, “T-three, thank you Master.”

The next he has mercy from you enduring and obeying on the last so well, the spank being not so hard, but you still feel it smart, “Four, thank you Master.”

You moan as you feel him pry your cheeks open, his probing gaze upon your revealed shame, you hear him inhale deeply, all your cheeks burning now, as he sniffs at your arousal, teasing you with just his breath lightly blowing on your tensing desperate holes.

You hear him growl yet again and you moan, arching your back, trying to tempt him, to no success as he swiftly gets right back to managing your punishment.

This goes on smoothly for the next nine spanks, your legs a drenched mess, you’re limp and sobbing on his lap as you shakily count the thirteenth strike, he sooths the burn with gentle rubs on your behind for a few moments, letting you gather yourself together, giving you a chance to not mess this up, to your immense gratitude.

Obviously, it’s a tactic on his end to endear him to you for showing ‘mercy’ but you're too cock desperate to even think that far.

“Almost done pet, you’re doing so well,” he praises admiring the darker colour of your beaten arse with awe. “Just two more, then I’ll take good care of you Little Doe.”

Sniffling you nod bracing yourself, tears streaming down your face, yet with every hit the heat in your groin had built to an unbearable precipice, not to mention the occasional tease of him stopping to enjoy the view of the flood exiting your hot and ready cunt.

You feel ready to just mount his leg (if you could get the angle right) and rub yourself silly on him, coating him in your essence, wanting to feel his thatch of fur soaked between your thighs, marking him like a bitch in heat.

“You smell, delicious.” His voice sounds gravelly, betraying his desire for the first time.

Catching you completely off guard, his tone and words make you moan louder than before, your hips jolting as your core pulses strongly, your body trying to find any source of friction, his hand keeping your thighs from rubbing together, your pussy trying to milk the air again.

Finally, you realise your eyes had been unimpeded, for you weren’t sure how long, you had just realised the lack of tear saturated cloth when he uses a gentle claw tipped finger to your face toward him so he can watch you, his crimson eyes burning your very soul.

“Such a pretty Little Doe,” Alastor purrs his praise at you, his eyes dark, his antlers large, his smile still screaming doom at you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when all you want is that grin peering up at you from between your thighs as you ride his face.

The loud clap and burn of the next blow has you crying out even louder the shock and power of it making your eyes close, your head straining to escape his grasp, he absorbs every facet of your reaction with rapture.

“AHHH... fo-fourteen, th-thank you... mmmaster,” you manage to stammer out, weeping from more than once place on your body.

The soft texture of his fur had been rubbing your nipples the whole time until they became hardened peaks, added to the burn of your arse and the insistent throb of your hot wet cunt, you were at the point of overwhelming sensory overload, feeling utterly deranged, in your crazed state you almost miss the final strike.

The pain zinging through your entire being, “Fif-teen, thank y-you, master,” you pant, your arse glowing like hot coals, you realise it’s over, almost feeling disappointed, but all you can focus on is the hard cock you just felt under your abdomen twitch.

He smooths his hand over the raw flesh of your arse soothing the pain, but your pussy was having none of it, throbbing even harder... more painful than your arse at this point. “Please...” You whimper, rubbing against him.

“My what a needy little slut you are Pet... I should have done this months ago.” Alastor’s radio crackle reducing to almost human sounding, made you shiver and moan again.

He sounded utterly euphoric, and you feel the flood still trailing down your thighs, you're surprised you both aren’t swimming neck deep by now with the copious amount drizzling out of you, forget the storm outside, the real storm he created himself between your legs.

Lifting your limp form gently and using his tentacles to arrange you.

You whine your body not responding to your commands as with ease he lays you on the bed, your sore bum protesting, your tail trapped under you, “Trust me Dear, with the state your beautiful little derrière is in, on the soft bedding is the best place for it right now... but fret not, you’ll soon forget it was ever sore in the first place.”

“Mas-mmm...” you try your body reaching its limit for tolerance.

He chuckles, pleased by the sight of your debauched state of utter glory, spread out before him, barely able to move.

You feel the chafing of rope wrapping around your wrists tightly dragging them together and up over your head, you look up in surprise as you see a noose tying around your wrists, you glace back at him in shock, a devilish smirk on Alastor's face.

“Wouldn’t want to make all your lies valid, and deprive you of a treatment from the gallows you so wished for now would I... after all...” his jubilant voice lowers as he crawls over your body, his clothes brushing against your skin, “apparently a rope is more desirable than my...” leaning close to your ear, licking the shell, “cock,” he enunciates making you moan and buck your hips up against him, groaning in frustration.

“Please Al-... Master...” you whine needily, sweat beading on your forehead from the stress of feeling so hollow, and swollen, your puffy pussy dark with flush, soaked and sensitive.

“Such a pretty, little pet, needy for your master’s cock Little Doe?” He holds back as you whine.

“Prove you want it, prove you need me, make me believe your repentance and I might just show you mercy” he leans closer, his weight baring down on you, pinning your body down, every inch of him pressed against you.

Your nerve endings reacting violently to the proximity as usual, even with him motionless your body feels feral with need, you want to claw at him, make him bury deep inside you so you don’t know where you begin and he ends, you want his cock so badly it hurts, nothing else matters in this moment.

You, however, can’t even react, you don’t know how, with your hands bound, your body pinned, and in this utter state of overwhelm, completely at his mercy, thoroughly insensible from his continued assault on your senses.

“Please... Please... Master...” You whine, keening as you feel the tips of his fingers gliding through your soaked pussy in reward, moaning, your eyes rolling as he finally touches you, the pleasure making you buck your hips to demand he rubs you harder.

“What would you do for me? To have my cock... to make you cum? What would you do...?”

You miss the warning signs, drunk on his scent and touch, all instincts making you arch into him, your hands tugging on the restraints, burning your wrists on the harsh rope.

Alastor’s smile is almost deranged as he awaits your predictable response knowing how much he’s gotten to you, knowing everything he desires is moments from his grasp.

“Anything, please, just anything, please Alastor, I’ll do anything, just take me, take me now...” You thrash about.

“Then give me your soul... or I shall leave you here tied up; I won’t lay another finger on you again if you don’t, I promise, but if you do give me what I want, I’ll make sure you cum so much, you won’t remember your own name.” his fingers rubbing circles on your aching clit as he says this to drive you further into the depths of your depraved state, finally giving you a balm to satiate, tease and further distract.

“Yes, yes, yes, please, just please.” The words barely register as you beg, moaning, tugging at the harsh restraint again, feeling as though you may die again if he leaves you like this now.

One of your hands is magically released and you quickly grasp at his outstretched hand now he's sat up straddling you, your wetness coating his fingers as your hand clings to them, he leads the action himself shaking your hand and there's a burst of green that you pay no mind to, the static that seems to fill your very blood gets ignored too as you try to cling to his collar next, trying to drag him back down onto you.

“Ah, ah, pet,” Alastor says, feeling the weight of the bond settle in his chest cavity, almost singing with glee.

Alastor rebinds your hand with a wave of his and the reappearance of a tentacle to enact his will, before getting up as you shout in protest.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head now Dear,” he taunts slightly as he uses his magic to swiftly divest the rest of his own clothes, you get a glimpse of wet thigh and his heavy bobbing cock before your vision is obscured again.

Whining turns to moaning as you feel his knee pushing between your legs, spreading you even wider, your head rising from the pillow trying to predict his actions again, your nose still full of woodsmoke, iron, musk and now your own arousal from the copious amount staining the bed.

The darkness consumes you as your vocal pitch gets even higher when you suddenly feel a tongue glide from perineum to clit, your entire body convulsing, your hot wet cunt pulsing, bucking your hips seeking more, your toes curling in effort.

He groans in pleasure at your taste, hip hips rutting forward instinctively.

“Fuck..” You cry out, your pussy reacting to the tongue with eagerness, that even the brief parting makes you sob.

“Language darling, no need to be vulgar,” his voice sending shockwaves through your core as he's so close he causes vibrations with his static to course through you, your body jolting with tiny electric shocks making you seep directly onto his waiting tongue.

“Please, I- ngh.. Need you,” you’re a whining mess, thrashing your head side to side, trying to dislodge the blindfold.

He ignores your plea and buries himself face first ravenously, licking and sucking every drop of ambrosia straight from the source of your unending well of lust and need, you can’t stop moaning, your legs over his shoulders as he feasts on you.

You tug harder on the ropes, wanting to bury your fingers in his hair, tug on his ears, anything, you just want to touch him so badly as your sopping cunt gets eaten like the most delicious desert feeling it pulse around his delving tongue, a spring coils tightly in your lower belly.

He moans at your taste, his cock leaking onto the sheets below him.

You cry out as he withdraws, tears falling into the blindfold again, you know why he’s tormenting you so, but you can’t take anymore.

“PLEASE!”

You feel the bed shifting, and the blissful slide of his skin against yours, dragging himself up against your nipples, licking one wetly on his ascent, his hot breath before it envelops your mouth, tasting yourself on his tongue with a moan, feeling utterly blessed.

With one smooth hard thrust and a howling cry from you he's fully seated within you.

His hands push the backs of your thighs wide open, spreading you out for his desired position, your hips buck desperately for more.

Your walls compressing him as his thick hard cock stretches your clenching cunt wide, your body already feeling like it’s about to burst, absolutely burning within, every sensation heightened by your state of visual obscuration as you feel every millimetre of his cock wedged deep within you, your cunt helplessly fluttering around him already greedily trying to claim its prize.

The feel of his mouth smiling against yours as he plunders it, a frenzy of teeth and tongue, as he snaps his hips flush with yours causing an exquisite jolt within you as you cry out in ecstasy, the taste of him and your essence in your mouth as your body yields to his without opposition.

The flex of his stomach flush with yours as his hips roll in for another punishing thrust that has you throwing your head back and crying out to the heavens in rapturous relief your pussy clenching hard already as you squirt onto his busy pelvis, his thatch of fur soaking through, he groans picking up speed and force, intensifying your release as your pussy contracts rhythmically, squeezing him for all it’s worth, his skin slapping yours as he doesn’t let up.

He growls through gritted teeth, biting his tongue to keep him from spilling deep within you already, the feel of your pleasure almost too much for him.

“Just look at you, you were such a sassy little thing, and now...” Alastor grunts with effort, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth, as your pussy spasms and squirts once more with a stuttered cry for you as he eases you through it again with his toiling cock.

Your body convulsing as the rope burns your wrists from the effort. Alastor’s hands moving from your thighs to your hips for better control and power to his demanding thrusts. Your loud moans never ceasing.

His skin and fur is soaked with your early release, “... Well now, you are a work of art... So weak, so pathetic, so mine... My dear you’ve never looked more glorious.” His hips not once slowing their pace as he delves deeply, his cock hitting places inside you that you never knew existed.

His cock exploring your blazing channel as your cunt spasms, burning at the stretch of being so filled by such an impressive being, with every inch of his large hungry cock that fills you, you feel as though nothing could make your body return to its state before the fucking of your entire lifetime... or death, the bed creaking ominously as he pounds away at you making sure you get thoroughly addicted to him.

Every pulse, every drag, every whine, and groan, a blur of pleasure, pain and desperation.

You plead with him as his hands glide all over your vulnerable exposure, memorising your curves, palming your round breasts, tweaking at the darkened peaks of your sensitive mounds.

“FUCK!” You cry out as you feel something not his finger begin to stimulate your clit while he ruts fiercely away at you.

Completely blind you’ve no idea what it is that has latched onto your swollen clit, only that your trembling legs begin to tense once more already, he withdraws his mouth leaving yours free for his audio entertainment and enthral him you did with every exquisite gasp and moan.

Blinded literally and figuratively with the pleasure making your brain short circuit at his bruising pace as he nibbles at your neck, your whole body arching as you cry out and convulse once more.

The wet slapping of drenched skin ceaseless, the burning of your wrists ignored over the burning throbbing of your cunt, your legs aching as you try to keep them raised and spread needing him deeper and deeper, wanting nothing more than to be filled to the brim by him, and never let him out.

Each beat of his cock stretching your channel in every direction, hitting your cervix with agonised pleasure as he makes sure to go balls deep with every thrust, feeling as though your very guts are being rearranged.

Alastor concentrates on making sure every inch of him is imprinted deep inside of you, desiring to be unforgettable, moaning as well as he feels the saturated warmth of you clutching at him, trying to drag him back in as he tries to thrust.

Desperately your arms tugs relentlessly, trying to find purchase on him needing to hold on to anything, any part of him... He denies you however and you sob as the ropes do more damage, but the overwhelming pleasure overrides all sense of self preservation as your squirting pulsing pussy gets ruined.

You feel another pair of hands supporting your legs startling you as his hands hadn’t stopped fondling you, exploring every inch of your body, they felt colder than his hands but no less substantial, you realise it’s his shadow when it feels like it’s pressed under your tail too.

You can’t think about it though as with a growl his teeth clamp down on the side of your neck and he sucks a bruise into your flesh teeth pricking your skin, you moan once more, the new sensation adding to the invasion of your senses.

“Scream for me Dear, relief is earned not given my Little Doe... scream for me,” With a sharp twist on your nipple, his thrusts bullying your stomach internally with every throb and rub and twitch, the sucking sensation on your clit increases to a painful capacity.

You break.

Screaming his name “ALASTOR!” you wail through your third release absolutely bathing him in your squirt, his cock making shluck sounds with every thrust as he finally gives in to his own release.

Bottoming out hard inside you once more and squeezing your tits tightly as you feel every part of him pulsing and flooding deep inside you, his hips slamming into yours, filling you to capacity, pumping every single pulse of seed inside you, making sure you take every single drop as he lifts your hips, using gravity to aid him, fucking his cum in you with his cock head, burying it firmly and making sure none escapes as he looks down at the absolute mess he’s made of you.

Alastor observes in satisfaction the blindfold still secure but drenched in tears, your skin flushed, soaked and bruised, the bite on your neck trickling warm blood down your clavicle, your legs spasm frequently from overstimulated relief, your pussy stretched wide over his still twitching cock, your wrists raw from the noose still binding them, and your entire body limp, the rapid rise and fall of your chest the only indication that you’re still conscious.

Gently he reaches to remove to blindfold, you blink against the stark change of brightness.

Eventually your eyes focus on the awe inspiring Radio Demon, his smiling look of utter smug pride as he catches his breath makes your pussy clench around him again making you whine from sensitivity, your head still quite dizzy, your body feeling heavy, it’s all you can do to not pass out.

Cooing at you, he releases your wrists from their restraints and rolling you both onto your sides he cradles you to his chest petting your hair whispering praise as he holds your wrists up for inspection, “Such a beautiful little Pet, you did so well, I’m right here, don’t you worry, I take care of what’s mine.”

There’s a green burning glow again and you feel your wrists smart once more before the pain dulls and you slump in relief against him.

Moaning as his cock shifts inside your abused hole, he chuckles and starts humming soothingly, helping you adjust and come down from your ordeal.

His own state a stark contrast to yours, he seems almost energised as he takes care of you, rubbing your back, kissing the top of your head as your legs stays slung over his waist as he slowly softens inside you, both of you dripping from your release, but you don’t have the mental faculty to be embarrassed over your particular penchant for squirting, nor his talent on seamlessly drawing it out of you.

Finally when he deems you recovered enough he scoops you up and heads to the bathroom to clean you both up, sliding gently out of your warmth making the pair of you groan, he gives you another kiss to ease you again.

The sound of his pleasure makes your heart flutter, he traverses the distance easily on his long sturdy legs, the shower already running, he steps inside the warm flow of water with you still cradled in his arms rinsing you both off as best as he can.

“Such a pretty little Doe, my perfect little pet, you felt so good wrapped around me, knew exactly how much you needed me... All this time, who knew you could be so good for me.” He seemed to narrate everything that happened, how delightfully responsive you were and how he can’t wait to see you cum for him again and again.

Your head rests on his chest still shaking from overstimulation, your pussy still sore and pulsing as he uses his tentacles to hold you and his hands to clean you, you listen to him far more than you had earlier when you’d been absconded upstairs by him, but taking no more of it in than before in your well fucked state.

Once you’re both clean he keeps you in the tentacles gentle, secure hold as he grabs towels for you both, and the sight of his little fluffy tail wagging is what caused you to sober up enough to regain your senses.

The flash of green when he had to conjure towels makes you gasp as your memory comes back to you... Your hand jumping to your chest as though to grasp at your very soul as you remember what you did.... All for the sake of sex with Alastor... Damn good sex but still... How the hell did he manage that?

Your heart races in panic as he returns to you wrapping you up so carefully to dry you, you can’t help but feel affection for him and of how tender he’s being caring for you.

He finishes drying you both, the smell of him all the more potent now your dripping squirt had been cleansed from both of your skin and fur.

He carries you back into the bedroom, tucking you into now clean, dry, soft bedding.

Getting in beside you he pulls you gently into his arms, hushing you when you attempt to speak, scratching behind your ears, making your eyelids go heavy and you almost purr.

He conjures you a glass of water and holds it steady as he helps you drink, your hands still too shaky to cope.

“We’ll talk about it all tomorrow.” Alastor says softly intuitively knowing what the look in your eyes meant, seeing the fear, doubt and questions, his smile softens, seeming almost genuine, he vanished the glass and gathers you in close, pressing another softer kiss to your lips, utterly pleased with the results of today, thankful for the storm outside as he finally got everything he wanted.

“Goodnight my perfect Little Doe.”

Your eyes drift closed, his warmth and scent addictive, comforting to your overworked muscles as he rubs your back soothingly, maybe you were wrong about the risks of being infatuated with him... But still your soul? What were you going to do now... What was he going to do with you... Would you be expected to warm his bed forever? Would he expect you to housekeep like Niffty or barkeep like Husk... There was no avoiding it... From this moment on... You belonged to him...

Forever Bound.

A/N: I only edited this once rather than my usual 4 times, so if there's alot of errors or issues let me know 💜

[stellarbit]

New Arrangements

Word Count: 5.4k Pairing: fem!reader x tech and crosshair, light Tech nods Warnings: NSFW receiving oral, piv, dp, all that good jazz Summary: Tech thinks of a different way to please you, as long as Crosshair is up for it.

This was a request a WHILE ago (ya girl is a slow, anxious writer). And it's been rotting my brain. Working on Part 2 of Two Faces too

“You worry too much.” Crosshair snickered into your ear. You shoved him off with a hard elbow. His voice, that close, sent a rush of irritation and something more exhilarating through your veins.

He chuckled, not deterred, and gripped your chin, playfully tilting your head from side to side. “Keep making that face, and you’ll age faster than us.”

You pushed his hand off, “And you say Wrecker needs to grow up.”

Crosshair let out a low, amused snort. His demeanor was always a blend of mockery and challenge, yet you had learned to navigate these waters.

Meanwhile, Tech observed the interaction from across the campfire. The three of you were on duty, guarding the camp while Wrecker, Echo, and Hunter were away. Your constant inquiries about their safety had invited Crosshair’s teasing, yet Tech appreciated how seamlessly you meshed with his squad. The Jedi Council had assigned you to Clone Force 99 abruptly, a move that often led to friction in established teams. However, whether due to your trained Jedi patience or simply fortune, you had adapted well.

The longer you worked with them, the more comfortable you became. It wasn’t a word Tech would use but, in reality, you were getting attached. 

That is, enough that you were able to coax out Crosshair’s more gentle side - if you could call it that. He interacted with you with a brusque familiarity he reserved for his brothers: never overtly kind, but his jabs lacked real malice. It always piqued Tech’s interest. Lightening Crosshair’s often grim demeanor was no minor achievement, and Tech found this development enjoyable.

 Anything that brought light to Crosshair’s attitude was a rare feat and a welcome one.

It had taken longer than with Crosshair, but you eventually won over Tech’s tolerance as well. As Tech generally had the more focused tasks, the two of you were paired together often. Your role as a Jedi made it easy to guard him while he was engrossed in his work.

Your time paired together allowed you ample time to listen to his rambling, ranting, and info dumping. A habit you initially deemed mind numbing, yet these moments quickly became your favorite parts of the day. Tech, often engaged in some task at hand, grew to find your presence calming as well. 

It seemed that Tech, in his own measured way, cherished your attentiveness. You relished you time with you and he you. Oh, he relished you thoroughly and every single chance he could.

Crosshair pulled on a strand of your hair, “I need to do a perimeter sweep. Keep your senses extended and comm me if you hear anything.” Tech didn’t miss the little flush his brother’s teasing brought you. Crosshair’s task was one that gave you Tech a slim window of opportunity.

Not long after Crosshair departed, you were splayed out on a cot in the tent with Tech between your legs.

“You enjoy it when I speak to you.” Tech said so plainly, as if he wasn’t squeezing three fingers inside you. He pushed them in deep, lowering his mouth to your clit as you whined back at him. He sucked on your bud, licking a few light circles around it, and felt you clamp down around him. Raising himself so that it was only his lips brushing you, he said, “Not being able to please you and speak to you is not the most ideal.”

He wanted to give you so much more, he wanted to push you farther every time. Singing he wished he had a second pair of hands for.

And a thought occurred to him. 

“Tech,” his name was a breathy moan. You squirmed on his fingers, trying to catch his lips on your clit again. “Your voice alone can finish me. Please.” Tech didn’t miss the desperation in your pleaing.

He kept working his fingers into you, further angling his head to watch your expression. The times he spent with you were becoming a game of strategy to him. One that he recorded and re-lived, as often as his little free time allowed. 

“And what is it you want to hear?” He swept a thumb over your clit, still aching for him, and sent an arch through your back.

Knowing he was in the midst of studying you, you threw your arms over your face to deprive him. If you were desperate and wanting, so should he be. “Read me binary code for Force sake. Anything.”

Tech thought he heard frustration in your voice, an unideal outcome considering his intentions. He unhooked the leg you had saddled over his shoulder and settled it beside his hip as he crawled over top of you. He gently moved your arms from your face and repositioned them above your head. Lining himself up with your entrance, he lowered his mouth to your ear. “Right now, I think I’d rather hear what you have to say.” Not making you ache another second, he easily slid inside of you.

It was a quick affair given the high risk of discovery. Tech completely worked you over just by whispering simple observations to you. Things like how you moved, looked, and felt around him. He took you right up to the edge of release, but cut you short. He was throbbing inside you, just as close to his orgasm, when he pulled out. 

Typically, Tech never left you wanting or waiting. He took pride in timing himself in getting you off. This time, if he wanted his idea to succeed, he needed you wanting more.

He grunted, struggling for composure. “Crosshair will be back soon. We should continue later.”

For a moment, you thought you might cry. You were wound so tight the ache was painful. Panting and foggy brained you just nodded along. Clearing your voice you said, “I didn’t know you were so cruel.”

He sat back on his knees, raked his eyes over your body once more, and tapped his goggles to end his recording. “Trust me,” Tech said, extending his hand. “It will be worth the wait.”

Afterwards, while the two of you composed yourselves, Tech gave you a sideways glance.

“Do you?” Tech queried.

“Do I what?” You responded without looking.

  “Do you trust me?”  He asked, stopping your hands as your head tilted in confusion. Surely that was obvious to him.

A second pulsed between you and you leaned over to give his arma squeeze. “With my life.”

Tech pushed, “And you have faith in my skills of observation.”

“Now, you’re just being silly.” You gave him a pat and pushed off the cot to exit. Tech caught your hand, adding weight to his question. For a moment you were stunned, you didn’t know what called for such seriousness. With a smile, you sighed and squeezed his hand. “I have as much faith in you as I do the Force,” you said and bent forward to kiss his hand. 

A barely there smile came to Tech. He sighed and stood with you. “I encourage you to keep that in mind in the future.”

When Crosshair returned you were still fanning the flush from your face. The ache between your legs had hardly subsided.

“Any word from the others?” He asked, setting his gun aside and discarding his helmet.

Tech tapped through his datapad, responding casually. “Negative and I suspect it will take longer now that the suns are setting.” Pausing momentarily, he brought his comm to his face. “Hunter, what is your status?”

It wasn’t immediate, but it was Echo’s voice that came back. “Hunter’s a little… tied up at the moment.” His inflection suggested that might be literal. “We still have a ways to go. Stay with the ship.”

Your head dipped back as you groaned, “That’s not good.” Swallowing your worry, you pushed off your knees to stand up. “In that case, I’ll be back.” 

“And where do you think you’re going?” Crosshair asked as he sat adjacent Tech.

You waved your hand over your shoulder as you walked off. “Just stretching my legs, I’ll be fine.” Stretch your legs and walk out the ache.

Crosshair’s gaze lingered on you, particularly the sway of your hips. He swallowed a groan and looked back to the fire.

Tech, noticing the shift in Crosshair’s demeanor, glanced over his datapad at him, assessing. “Your concern is unwarranted. She will be fine.” He observed Crosshair for a moment longer as he placed a toothpick in his mouth, then ventured into delicate territory. “Is it safe to say you find her attractive?”

Crosshair sputtered, wide eyed he whipped to look at his brother. “Wha- What does that matter to you?”

“Currently—a great deal,” Tech adjusted his goggles, his tone turning investigative. “Are you aware that she and I engage in physical relations?” When Crosshair’s stare intensified, Tech added for clarity, “Frequently.”

Crosshair covered his face with his hand, cursing into his palm. He had noticed the way you gravitated towards Tech and even suspected you’d caught Tech’s attention. Though considering your nature as a Jedi, he imagine you hadn’t acted on anything. It was why he let his teasing border on flirting.

It’s why he let himself fantasize about you.

“Why are we even talking about this?” The sniper groaned, exasperation already showing.

“Because I’m fairly certain she finds you attractive as well, and I have an idea that might benefit all involved. But first, I need to know: have you ever fantasized about her?” Tech’s question was direct, his curiosity unabashed.

Just as you circled back to the camp, Crosshair’s incredulous response pierced the air. “What?” Hearing this, you quickened your pace, pushing through the underbrush to catch an early glimpse of the scene.

When you burst through the final swath of foliage, the camp appeared oddly tranquil. Crosshair was casually leaning against crates on the opposite side of the fire from Tech, who was positioned exactly as you had left him, seemingly immersed in his datapad.

Neither of them said anything as you took a few slow steps towards Tech, still assessing the situation. Crosshair almost seemed like he was pointedly ignoring you. The oddity of it all made you smile curiously.

Sitting next to Tech you leaned over to whisper. “What did you do to piss him off?” Crosshair’s eyes narrowed in on you, a clear sign he’d heard you. 

Tech pulled his datapad away from his face, glancing at Crosshair. “He's not angry,” Tech clarified, setting aside his device completely. “If anything, he's nervous.” When Tech was fully present, more interested in a situation than his research, there was always a hint of amusement in his voice.

“Oh, really?” You chuckled softly, nudging Tech playfully with your elbow. “And what’s got moody over there so nervous?”

Tech gestured his hand you, saying, “Most likely due to the anticipation of your reaction.” 

Confusion briefly crossed your features as you gave a small shake of your head. “My reaction to what?”

Tech adjusted his goggles and cleared his voice, a small glimpse of his own nerves. “To learning I’ve disclosed the nature of our relations to Crosshair.”

Your cheeks went warm and, for a moment, you could only blink at Tech. “Tech.” You said in a cautious tone.

He began again with no hesitation. “Crosshair is now fully aware that you and I are involved.” You opened your mouth only to be met with Tech lifting his finger. “More significantly, I've proposed the idea of him joining us. As I see it, it would be a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

“Mutually beneficial arrangement?” You parrotted a little louder. You were suddenly very aware of Crosshair’s eyes on you. From your peripherals you noticed Crosshair shift his weight off the crates and your mouth went dry.

Tech twisted to face you head on. “The way you and Crosshair interact suggests a mutual attraction and, frankly, seeing him somewhat content is a rarity.” Crosshair scoffed from across the fire, but Tech continued. “I believe expanding our dynamics will prove enjoyable for all parties.”

Your lack of response, brows lowered but eyes wide, caused Tech to pause. A moment of hesitation passed over Tech as he considered the best path forward. His eyes shifted around before honing back in on you. The look in his eyes kept you locked in place as he leaned over and reached across his body to grip your thigh.

Facing away from Crosshair, Tech brought his mouth to your ear. Just for you to hear, he said, “And I believe you would find an evening with the two of us... quite exhilarating.”

Remaining still, your eyes flew to Crosshair. From the distance you were sure he couldn’t have heard Tech, but he was waiting, almost holding his breath, for your response. The ache between your legs bloomed again. Your thighs squeezed together, trapping Tech’s hand between them.

Between Tech’s proximity and Crosshair’s staring you down, you couldn’t hear anything over your own heartbeat. Abruptly, you stood, disentangling yourself from Tech, and nearly stumbled over your makeshift seat. You fanned your face, letting out nervous laughs while your eyes darted between them.

Before you could gather your thoughts to speak, Crosshair’s voice cut through the tension. “Now who’s nervous?” His tone was taunting, yet when you looked at him, your nervousness seemed to have evaporate. Crosshair poised, nearly predatory, as if waiting for a signal to spring into action. Undeniably captivating.

For Crosshair. Seeing you flushed and breathless with excitement brought his fantasies vividly to the forefront of his mind. He raised an eyebrow, his typical smirk softening into something more tender.

“Crosshair?” You managed to say with a small, flattered smile playing on your lips. “You want this?”

After a tense pause, he discarded the toothpick in his mouth and walked around the fire to where you stood beside Tech. With a steady voice Crosshair said, “I.. wouldn’t have agreed to discuss it if I didn’t.”

Eyes blown wide, your heartbeat throbbed between your legs. Holding Crosshair’s gaze a heartbeat longer you looked down at Tech with a nod.

A spark of excitement hit Tech’s eyes. “Excellent.” Tech smiled and pushed off his knees to stand. “In that case-”

You interjected quickly, “Right now.”

“Right now?” Crosshair repeated incredulously.

“That… would be my fault.” Tech walked past you and patted Crosshair on the shoulder. “You two head into the tent, I’ll be in shortly.” Without even having to see your shared confused expression Tech sighed, continuing to walk to the comm station. He clarified, “It would be wise to make sure we are alerted if the others are near.”

A hand settled on your lower back as Crosshair guided you away. “We’ll leave you to it then.” Crosshair said after him. He leaned down, ducking into you as you both crossed the tent’s threshold. As he pushed into you a breathy laugh kissed the skin of you neck. “Should’ve seen your face.”

You tried to shove him off with bump of you hips - a playful move you’d done dozens of times. With his hand still resting on the small of your back the movement slid his hand into place on your waist. 

He remained close, looking down at you and his grip firming on you. “Since when have you…” He started saying but trailed off. He didn’t need to finish, you knew what he was asking.

“Since the day you caught me from falling in the river on Kuat.”

He craned his neck back, a smirk shifting his lips. “Didn’t I then drop you into the river?”

Even just his hand waist sent your heart racing. “It made me laugh,” you replied with a light shrug. Rising onto your tiptoes, you whispered close to his ear, “Or maybe the first time I saw you shooting from one knee.” Settling back onto your heels, you shrugged again, smiling slyly. “I like the way you pose.”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, but his amusement was evident as he slipped his hand up to the nape of your neck moving to stand in front of you. Unable to think under the weight of his touch you stepped into his space. 

You opened your mouth but Crosshair’s voice came first, “Don’t even bother asking.”

He wasn’t wrong -you were going to ask him the same thing. Instead, you reached up and gently guided his hand from your neck to your chest, pressing his palm against your heart. When the pace of your heart registered with him you said, “I was going to ask you to kiss me.” 

His eyes widened and it was now Tech’s voice that rang out. “Oh good, at least you're somewhat comfortable.” Crosshair pulled away like you were too hot to touch. “I would not be shy if I were you, Crosshair.” Tech said as he started stripping a few armor plates off. “Otherwise this will not have the desired effect for you.”

Tech stood with the majority of his plating stripped from the waist down. He came to your back, hands slipping in front of you to make quick work of your belt. It clattered to the ground, and your tunics soon followed, each piece of clothing creating a soft thud. 

Crosshair, still only a few feet from you, memorized every newly revealed patch of skin with an intensity that seemed to magnify the air between you.

When you were down to the bandeau, his breath hitched. When Tech released the bandeau, and you were finally exposed to him, a shudder ran through Crosshair. He’d been hard for sometime, but the sight of you now made him painfully harder. He grit his teeth as his cock pushed against his codpiece.

The flush of your chest, heaving in a mesmerizing way, matched your face. Crosshair extended a hand, gently grazing your nipple. Your eyes fluttered at the touch and Tech felt you shiver. 

“You should kiss her.” Tech suggested as he trailed his hands down your sides, over your stomach, and to the buttons of your pants. “You must talk to her.”

Crosshair cupped your breast, running his thumb over your nipple before catching it in a pinch. You took a sharp inhale and Crosshair moved in on your parted lips. He was gentle at first, kissing you slowly and sucking on your lip, but when you moaned into him Crosshair matched the noise and deepened the kiss. He held your face in place moving his lips against you as if he’d rather devour you than breathe.

When he heard the sound of fabric rustling, Crosshair finally eased up. Leaving you panting and leaning into his touch. As Tech kneeled he pulled your pants with him, trailing kisses down your back as he went. 

Crosshair stood back to let you step out of the pile of clothes around you. You were completely bare and squirming where you stood. His eyes roamed your body, snagging between your legs before meeting your gaze again.

Crosshair chuckled and said in a low voice, “I should’ve tossed you in a river much sooner.”

“Not exactly the time, Crosshair.” Tech said as he tugged you towards a cot. Crosshair followed at half the pace. 

Sitting you at the edge of a cot, Tech positioned himself between your knees. He pivoted to look back at Crosshair who kept a distance. “Are you ready?” Tech asked.

Crosshair tipped his head to you. “Aren’t you going to ask her?”

Tech didn’t break eye contact as he took one finger and traced it up over your wet folds. A string of your slick trailed after him as he brought his finger back in front of him. “Oh,” He said as he examined his wet fingers. “I don’t need to ask.”

You hooked a leg over Tech’s shoulder and pulled his attention back to you. “I’m done waiting, Tech.”

Tech shrugged, quipping, “Told you.”

On his knees, Tech leaned in to place a kiss on your cheek and give you access to his goggles. Your finger traced the side of his goggles until you felt a button. A light tap and a soft beep indicated and you were recording. Tech pulled back to press a kiss to your lips. “Thank you, Sarad.” 

He traced a hand from your neck, between your breasts and down to your thigh. Pushing your leg farther to the side Tech tucked his head in close to you and blew air over you. You hadn’t even shivered through the chill yet when Tech took your clit into his mouth. He gave your bud light, fast licks that deepened into slow rolling laps.

You lowered yourself onto your elbows and let your head dip back. You moaned softly, mewling your pleasure as Tech worked you up. He slid two fingers inside and your head snapped back up, eager to watch him work. 

It took you a moment to remember Crosshair’s presence, but when your eyes met Crosshair’s you nearly came on sight. Tech felt you tighten and slowed his rhythm -  you needed to last longer than that. 

“Cross?” You panted, eyes dipping to see if you could spot any sign of his arousal. “Are you…?” You wanted to hear, see, and even feel more of him-  but the words escaped you.

Crosshair never witnessed the look you were giving him, but he knew exactly what you wanted. He took slow steps forward, his hands dropping to the plating below his waist. The first to drop was his codpiece, revealing a large bulge behind his blacks. “Does that answer your question?” He drawled, his eyes caught on Tech’s movements.

“Show her.” Tech said in a momentary breath. He kissed the thigh you had over his shoulder, mumbling into your skin. “She wants to see.”

Crosshair flicked his plating to another cot. His hands gripped into fists a few times before he slipped his blacks out of the way and released his cock. Another burst of excitement rushed through you and Tech immediately eased off. He looked up at you, assessing how far gone you were, steadily curling his two fingers inside you.

Focused on Crosshair’s length, unsurprisingly similar to Tech’s, you bit your lip. “Show me.” You whined, your order sounding like pleading.

Crosshair stepped within reaching distance and did exactly as you asked. His hand slid down his shaft, lightly squeezing at the base and started a slow pace as he watched you quiver under Tech’s touch.

For a while you basked in the high of the two men worshiping you. Tech pushed you to the threshold of release once more before he stopped moving. Pulling your eyes from Crosshair you watched Tech sit back and wipe his palm over his mouth. Gently removing your leg he moved around your side to be face to face with you. 

“Crosshair,” Tech said, brushing a knuckle over your cheek. He leveled a look at his brother and asked, “Are you or are you not going to participate?” Tech moved himself behind you, supporting you between his legs. He left the spot between yours as an open invitation.

Crosshair didn’t hesitate. He kept his eyes on you as he kneeled, hands sliding up your inner thighs. As he settled in, Tech used one hand to circle your breast and the other roamed the rest of your skin in search of sensitivity. “Gently licking her is the best to start.” Tech advised, his eyes consuming every reaction you made.

The sniper dragged his thumb over your pussy, making a noise when your wetness pooled over his finger. Catching your attention, Crosshair smirked and dropped his gaze. He couldn’t stop the moan he made at the first glimpse of how truly aroused you were. His eyes locked with yours again and he lowered himself to you. As he opened his mouth, a whine made it past your lips as you eagerly waited for his touch. When he finally pressed his tongue flat against your entrance he licked the entirety of you and ended with a flick over your clit. 

The pressure he applied felt like electricity shot through you. Your hand flew to his head, gripping through his hair to gently push him back. His mouth was slightly open, his tongue still wet from the taste of you. 

“Gently.” Tech said firmly. He pulled you back to rest against him, your head resting close to where his cock pressed through his blacks.

“She seemed to like it.” Crosshair countered with confidence, pushing out of your light hold to taste you. He ran his tongue over you again, but this time he finished with swirling around your clit. You rested a hand on his head, your thumb mimicking the motion of his tongue. Crosshair hummed at the touch and covered your clit, sucking gently on you until your hips bucked against him.

Meanwhile, Tech rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. “You do like that,” he pinched slightly harder. “Your chest is flushing and your thighs are quivering - it would seem you are close.”

You admitted to it in a quick hush as your eyes fluttered to look up at Tech. Crosshair’s mouth was faster and more desperate than you were used to, but his gentle pressure was driving you to delirium. Tech watched your eyes gain the familiar glossed over look he constantly sought after. You were indeed close, painfully so.

Writhing under Tech’s touch, you rolled your head to the side and pressed your cheek against the heat of Tech’s cock. You kissed the hard length, then ran your tongue over the fabric separating you. Tech hissed and you felt him throb against you. 

“Ah, not yet.” Tech said, but didn’t pull your mouth away. When you tried twisting to gain more access, he finally moved you away. He looked down at you, angling his head to capture every inch of you. “I have a better idea.”

He said Crosshair’s name, who, recognizing the tone,immediately paused. Crosshair grazed your folds once more before pulling away while Tech slid his arms under you. You were used to Tech guiding you through positions and easily followed his lead until you were straddling him at the end of the cot.

Crosshair came up behind you, nestling his face into your neck. He deeply inhaled you and, on a strained exhale, saddled himself against your backside. You were so focused on the fact that Crosshair’s cock was pressing against you, you didn’t catch Tech pulling away his blacks.

Gazing up at you, Tech let his cock throb for a moment as he savored this view of you - panting, dripping, and blatantly pleased. He held your hip in place as he guided himself to your entrance. When his head glided over your slit, your focus dialed back in on Tech.

You felt the quiver inside you and couldn’t contain the way your hips gyrated in search of Tech. “You must lower yourself slowly.” Tech groaned as you did just that. When he was fully sheathed inside of you, you let out a breathless sound. The way Tech first filled you always took your breath away. This time you weren’t sure if you’d catch your breath. 

Tech pushed up into you, testing your limits, before rolling his hips back and lifting you back up. The two of you moved together like that for a few motions with Crosshair moving against you in tandem. When Tech was completely coated in you and you were adjusted to his size, Tech moved a hand to your back to pull you forward. As you bent with him, Tech kept himself buried inside of you.

He throbbed inside of you, but held you in place. “Crosshair.” He strained to say.

Silence fell over you and Crosshair as you both realized what Tech wanted. Crosshair found you already smiling over your shoulder at him and knew you were going to be the death of him. You were so confident and - “So beautiful.” Crosshair finished his thought out loud.

Another part of him wanted to know just how hard he had to fuck you to wipe that confident smirk clean. He cocked his head and snorted at the thought. Another time.

Crosshair leaned over, spitting on his cock as he began stroking himself again. He gathered his precum and covered the head of his cock in it. Sufficiently wet, Crosshair brought his cock to where Tech sat inside you. He slid his cock up against you and used his thumb to guide himself in. 

Each of you held your breath as Crosshair rocked his hips to slowly, inch by inch, work his was inside. He wasn’t even half way sheathed when you cried out.

Crosshair yanked you up against him. He was worried you were in pain, but was met with blissed out expression. Your leaned back into him, a hand reaching up for his face.

“We’ve hit her G-spot.” Tech explained as he took an exploratory thrust. When he slid back inside you, stretching you out with Crosshair, he felt the tell tale hip thrusts you made when you were about to cum. “Crosshair, hold her still.”

Crosshair fortified his hold on you, taking the moment to bury himself deep inside you. Suspended in the air, you were helpless against Tech’s touch. His thumb found your clit, pressing into you and he starting fucking you from below. 

You and Crosshair moaned in a similar way, both of you at the point of no return. Tech saw the two of you trembling against your pleasure and knew exactly what to do. He gave two hard final thrusts and squeezed your clit between his fingers and you were finished.

Pleasure broke through you, sending your back into an arch and your legs trembling. Crosshair clamped his mouth down on the nape of your neck, while Tech bit his own lip - both of them breaking through their orgasms. The two men shuddered against you and spilled themselves inside you. Cum quickly leaked out of you and down their cocks, acting as lubrication for their final mindless thrusts. They were both spent and basking in the haze of their climaxes.

Their throbbing threatened to push your past your limits, but collapsing back into Crosshair you didn’t think you’d mind even if they did.

The three of you panted for a few moments before you tapped on Crosshair’s arm, a silent request. He left a kiss on your skin as he pulled out of you, cumming spilling after him. The sudden loss of him almost made you pull him back. 

Tech relaxed underneath you. A pleased smile curved his lips and spread when he touched your face. “You were wonderful.” His praise warmed your chest. 

By the time Tech helped you up, Crosshair was already cleaning himself off and retrieving his armor. You blocked his path, hands on your hips, a playful smirk on your lips. “Not even going to help clean up?” Though your tone was light, teasing, you enjoyed prodding him just to see his reaction.

Crosshair responded by placing a toothpick between his lips and tipping your chin up with a finger. His eyes locked onto yours, unswayed by the allure of your body below the neck. “When it is just mine,” he murmured, his voice low and enticing, “I’ll lick you clean myself.” With a tap to your chin, he stepped around you, leaving you slightly agape in his wake.

Tech came over with your garments and a towel, a slight smile playing at his lips as he handed them to you. He then sat back on the cot, his gaze lingering on you as you began to clean up. With a tap of his goggles, he stopped recording. “This will certainly be… interesting to review,” Tech remarked casually as he started to reassemble his armor.

As you wiggled into your pants, you hummed a laugh. “Don’t you mean exhilarating .”

A light blush bloomed over his cheeks. But he pointed a finger at you. “I was not wrong about that.”

“No,” you planted a kiss on the top of his head with a smile. “You were not.”

[lonleydweller]

Could you please do yandere hcs for BTAS Riddler? There's such a lack of content for him, which is a shame bc I love him 💔

🥀Yandere BTAS Riddler hcs🥀

!Warnings!: yandere trope, stalking mention, kidnapping mention, threat mentions

Yanderes are OK to enjoy in fiction. They should stay fiction. They are not examples of healthy relationships. These behaviors are NOT okay in real life. They are horrid. This is for entertainment purposes

-----------------------------------------------------

● Compared to other Riddlers, he's more calm, collected. More outwardly resembling having some kind of sanity. Don't let that trick you into thinking having him as a yandere would be an easy experience however.

● He's much more of a smooth talker, attempting to form a relationship somewhat.. normally instead of forcing it upon you. At first. He'll have his goons follow you, root through security camera footage, databases in attempt to learn places you frequent. Magically appearing there to start up conversations with you.

● Of course he'll memorize your interests, medical information, habits, information about where you work, any pets you may have, and who you associate with as well. All kept in a neat little folder.

● Aroujd that sane time you start seeing riddles appear on your door, one's that leave you on trails that lead seemigly no where. Puzzle boxes. Games. All that jazz. All leading up to him confessing. If you decline.. well that's fine. He won't force anything upon you. He may he a villian but he has standards. One's that break and bend at his discretion.

● Despite that he can't let go. He needs to be involved in your life somehow. You're now getting roped into his schemes, wether he leaves a clue leading batman to you, kidnapping family and friends as hostages, forcing you into one of his games, or just simply showing up to your house unannounced to just say hi.

● Did some peanut brained idiot mess up your day? Gone. Boss fire you? Suddenly you have your job back, with better pay too. Happened to want an item? It's on your doorstep. Want the whole city to be quiet? You got it!

● Sure he claims he wouldn't force a romantic relationship onto you, but he didn't say he wouldn't still try to convince you. He figures mayhe with enough "encouragement", you can grow to see you two belong together! Brilliant minds such as yours should stick together, should they not?

● Good luck getting him off your back.

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[theangrycomet-art]

little warmup doodles with @paradimeart's criminally adorable Orbabies concept/au.

a couple of headcannons into play here and i'm gonna be a bit loose and wild with explanations so here we go-

a) Jazz hums to himself a lot, a specific tune if you listen closely long enough. This makes him a bit of a protorb magnet in general, but also makes him very good at settling them down.

b) Moonracer's protorb batch was a more experiment bit of coding from the Vector Sigma. Blurr was a part of this batch. This unfortunately led to more issues for the bots of this batch, specifically overcharged sparks. Long story short, their sparks are "too big" for their little forms, forcing their body to try and find other outlets. (the stress from a spark being overcharged for a long period of time leads to yellow optics, as opposed to the typical blue)

In Blurr's case, he was able to address this at a young by burning off the excess energy via his speed. In Moonracer's case, her spark developed her anti-gravity regulator. However, many protorbs went offline due to being unable to find an outlet and burning themselves out.

c) Moonracer was an absolute MENACE as a protorb/protomech, between her having 0 control of her anti-gravity regulator and her overcharged spark making her more prone to meltdowns.

With all these factors, Moonorb was loosely assigned to Jazz's care for a while. Here she picked up his humming habit, adding her own chirps and whirs to the tune.

She still has a humming habit, much to her peers often irritation.

COMMISSIONS OPEN

[princessvisionary101]

💘❤️‍🩹 Nuada x Disowned Human Princess reader who her parents and her sister neglect her.

Part 2 of ?

Summary: Your father wants your older sister to be the perfect queen to the Bethmoora clan. Your sister wants everything to be perfect for her. Your mother never wanted anything much. You however, want to know why your sister’s dream guy, or elf in that matter, wants your attention and your presence to himself.

@meowiemari @ccruzmoon @kitty-chan33 @ozzyynka @helios-dios-del-sol @fictional-hooman @philiasoul @bluebear142077 @personofyou @shiranai-atsune @all—that—jazz @ynskywalker1 @izzyshima @cora-witch @moodyblueberrytree @ajourneytobeweightless @the-lonely-abyss

Part 2 my people! Let’s make this a good one!

While you two were walking in the hallways of the palace, you wondered if you could find many books about the Bethmoora clan.

Now don’t get it wrong, you didn’t want to learn the Bethmoora clan’s history because of some strategy or something to use against them, but learning more about other beings than just other humans was enough to dream about exploring the outside world.

Ϛ⃘๑•͡ .̫•๑꒜ℒℴѵℯ❤

Seems as though the advisor was a little concerned about what you were thinking. Probably curious instead since it’s been a long while since anyone showed pi Now don’t get it wrong, you didn’t want to learn the Bethmoora clan’s history because of some strategy or something to use against them, but learning more about other beings than just other humans was enough to dream about exploring the outside world. Who could blame him since he is the one who was technically force to guide you somewhere away from the important “royal meeting”.

“So your highness” he started but you hold up your hand quickly. “If you want you can just call me (y/n). Everyone back home usually doesn’t say your highness only for specific reasons.” You said before walking a little faster to catch up to him. “Oh? A may I ask why do you receive disrespectful treatment as though your title does not exist? Surely your parents must be furious about this sort of mishap with the servants I presume?”

You looked down while walking a little slower than usual. He had to slow down a bit to see your frown better.

“No I’m sorry.” You said while looking up at him with a small smile. “The clan may have seem to have good respect to their king and his children, but mine do not serve the same purpose but just to fetch me food and books from the library.”

“Ah I see then.” He stops in front of the library doors and turns to you in a look you can’t recognize. “Then please forgive me if I seem to have been shown to displease you in any way.” “Oh! Not at all!” You said waving yours hands in front of you while trying to choose your words carefully. “You were great help to me and great company as well! Thank you for showing me where the library will be at.” You both bow before he leaves and you went inside the room where still the knowledge you wanted to see can be found.

The library was very quiet and looks to be taken care of just like yours from back home. It seems as though it was used a lot , account of the books piled up on the tables and the many shelves that look almost like you were in a maze. It was messy, but it made you felt at home with the place you leave through the books filled with fantasy, drama, romance and surprises at every corner in every page.

And speaking of surprises in every corner-

“Can I help you human?” A baritone voice said that sounded more of a command then a question. You turned around and spot a elf with long white hair and a frown that makes it obvious you weren’t welcomed here.

“I’m sorry if I’m intruding you sir.” You bowed with your head hung low. You never got over the habit of apologizing to many people who deemed you as a nuisance. You have your sister to thank for that. “My name is Princess y/n and I am here to spend my time here while my family finishes a meeting. I’m very sorry again for intruding.”

You couldn’t tell if he was upset at you or looking at you at all since you still had your head hung low. Maybe he’s wondering what kind of Princess “hung her head low to a elf no less?”

Huh…he thought so too.

“We’ll I’m not allowed to join them while they discuss about important matters, especially with the king of your clan.” You responded, having no trouble sounding more reserved towards the gentleman who didn’t seem to be displeased at your presence nor didn’t seem to want to dismiss you from the library.

“Very well then,” he says sitting down at the chair across from you while you raise your head and see him walk to the table you are occupying and picks up a book from the table, “then I’ll just continue reading from this book while you bid your time reading from the others. I do recommend though that you don’t cause any disturbance that might upset the librarian.”

He states right before glaring at you with a very look of distrust. You can’t seem to read him that well. He doesn’t seem to have any problems with you staying but he also seems to be annoyed with you around. It’s a continual battle of whether to please him by departing and finding a new place to spend you time or just to stay and be quiet. Since technically you don’t know the place well, it shouldn’t hurt to stay quiet and just find a book to read; especially since he seems to already look irritated by just feeling your presence.

“Alright” You responded, “but I do really mean it about me leaving the room if I’m bothering you sir.” you then pick up a random book from the nearest shelf and start to read. He glances up at you before continuing to read his book.

You both end up reading in silence while the sun was shifting from the afternoon to later mid-day. You would occasionally pick a different book when you finished yours and start reading with a small smile upon your face. It seemed like forever ago when you would go to your library and read books that had questions that you wish to know. For example, you were curious about how pirates act nowadays or if there was really a treasure island for pirates to roam and search of.

While you were busy reading a plot twist in your book, you failed to sense a pair of eyes watching you from time to time when you scrunch up your nose or when your eyebrows furrow during a chapter of the story.

Once you found a stopping point, you raise your head to see those pair of eyes looking at you from across the table. It freaks you out at first because usually the looks you get are either in disgust or in denial of your heritage of your family. In this case, you couldn’t tell what he was thinking of what he felt about you.

“May I ask why you are staring at me sir?”

He closes his book and lays it on top of the table before he crosses his arm on top of them.

“Why aren’t you with your family in the dining room discussing with the king? Normally, most humans are with him trying to have an alliance with our people, especially princesses who generally aren’t found in a library to waste an hour.”

You looked down embarrassed by his remark targeted to you, well it would sound so, and closed your book so that you can try to focus on this elf man across from the table.

“Well for starters sir, my family have always left me out of their conversations, especially when they go on their outings when they have time to get together. I do try to talk to my maids or the butlers, but most of the time I see their displeasure in talking to me. This led me to see that I don’t fit into anyone’s expectations of a good daughter or a great princess in their eyes.”

You looked at him and was surprised that he seemed to pay attention to your words. How long ago did someone look at you and listened that same way this librarian was?

“And are you ok with the way you are treated? It doesn’t sound like you enjoy feeling ignored or disrespected by others, including your own servants whom you have the control over if I’m correct.”

“Maybe so” You responded with a genuine smile at him, “but I rather someone talk to me or like me not because they have to, but because they desire to do so.”

Before he could respond, a servant walks to him and whispers in his ear in the language you couldn’t understand before seeing that he probably is about to leave you alone. He walks with the other elf, and they start to chatter behind your back. It seemed suspicious since the servant kept glancing at you from time to time and the man would have a small frown every now and then. Their conversation probably isn’t a good one you thought. He comes back and takes the books he had in his arms, and you already notice that it’s a sign that he is about to leave.

“Oh! Are you needed elsewhere sir? I’m sorry to take much of your time if you were supposed to leave soon!” You stand up but he stops you before you did anything else strange.

“It is nothing that you should worry about, but yes, I am needed somewhere. However, my servant also told me that the meeting is done, and you are asked to meet your family at the dining room where the king is at.” He gives his servant the small stacks of books for them to put away before strolling over to you with his hand extended in your direction. You got confused for a bit until he chose to grab your hand and leave a gentle kiss on your palm. You never felt so flustered at the fact that a man, let alone a prince had left the touch of his lips linger on your hand before raising his head at your level.

“I hope you have a wonderful time here in the library and I would like to extend my gratitude for your honesty and kindness.” He then leaves you alone at the table, feeling bewildered at his change of attitude, and you start to wonder if what you said to him made him had a different view towards you. You don’t think about it even when you walk out of the library doors, and you hope that the way he talked to you wouldn’t be the last time someone treated you that way. It has been forever since someone didn’t mind your presence.

You’ll probably come to regret that thought once you realize what you’re really in for.

(Hello! Thank you so much for reading chapter 2 of the disowned princess reader x prince nuada silverlance. Now to keep my message short, I have been busy trying to work but currently I've been fired since I couldn't work full time and now I got time to myself :3 I also just started college, but since I got less homework, I will be trying to make more fanfics on this blog, including trying to finish this series which I come to enjoy.

I thank you all for enjoying the first chapter and I hope that ya'll continue to read and share my fanfic by reblogging it! See all of you soon and have a wonderful day!)

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 6- from the top of my lungs

Dp x DC AU: Regent!Jazz & Vigilante!Jazz

"I step out outside and I take a deep breath and I get real high and I scream from the top of my lungs, 'What's going on?!'" - What's Up? by 4 Non Blondes

Masterlist Part 5

It was probably hypocritical of Danny to lecture Jazz about taking up a vigilante role around their new haunt when he himself couldn’t resist the instinctual urge to give the local breed of stupidity a beatdown. 

If anything, it was a good way to get back into shape.

(Danny’s not fooling anyone, he’s a twink.) (A ghouly goopy ghostly one, but still a twink.)

Danny argued that he had more experience with vigilantism than Jazz, when she’d taken up a support role even after training. Sure, her aim has gotten so much better with practice, but Jazz was only a liminal. 

(A highly ecto-contaminted liminal with a scary sword that can cut through reality to create portals that currently does his kingly paperwork for him.)

At least he could comfort himself with the knowledge that Jazz was trained by the frightening and awe-inspring Pandora of the Infinite Realms Acropolis, bearing her own gifted Bracelets of Submission as a symbol of respect from one woman to another. 

(Jazz and Pandora sparring made the Boy King eternally grateful to be on the good side of both women.) 

(Scary was an understatement.) 

(No wonder Jazz and Sam got along so well.)

(Batman and Wonder Woman were supposedly friends, being founders of the Justice League and all.)

Gotham was all kinds of batshit crazy when the sun went down.

(pun recognized and intended.)

A dumb statement for any Gothamite, but newcomers to the city never really got it until the were robbed at gunpoint within five minutes of sunset. 

That wasn’t really a concern for Danny, he’s gotten into the habit of phasing his important items into his body for safe keeping, but his increased need to do something made his late night walks morph into something that vaguely resembled his Witching Hours patrols back in Amity. Midnight to three am, strictly rooftops without too much barrier crossing into Hood’s territory were now fully integrated into the Halfa’s life- the purring of his core when he protected someone was healing something inside him he hadn’t realized was sick. 

(Lies.)

Without the Red Hood to manage his Haunt, the Boy King and Regent had brute forced their way passed the boundary line to help the once-Revenant’s people until the one in question could do it himself. The habitants of Crime Alley were hesistant at first to accept more vigilantes into their midst, especially one that was obviously a meta with a concerning range of physical abilites, but with the Regent’s quiet strength and Phantom’s quirky attitude they were begrudgingly allowed to continue. 

(If Phantom also used his ice manipulation to help stablilize dilapidated buildings being used as shelter for the upcoming winter, then all the better.) 

The Regent had been caught in the Bat’s territory more recently, much to Danny’s worry. Jazz could no doubt break the furry over her knee, Danny had seen her do it to Skulker of all people, but drawing the ire of the big bat was the opposite of ideal. Batman’s Stabby Robin might even try to challenge Jazz for her Ecto-sword, which was both hilarious to imagine and panic-inducing, because stabby Robin was stabby. 

After the early morning chat with the Signal, Danny had come to a decision regarding the leather clad crime lord furry and his flock of birdies- step up as the Boy King and request Batman’s help in riding the Realms of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Jazz already did so much as his Regent, he could at least get the ball rolling on this. 

In order to begin, he had a sad trenchcoat man to call. 

“Bloody Hell, Phantom!” 

The Phantom, in his original jumpsuit rather than the admittedly awesome Star King regalia, grinned with a mouth full of razor-sharp teeth. Closer to a snarl, but whatever. 

“Sad trenchcoat man! Just the guy I wanted to see.” 

Danny knew the guy’s name, hard not to when he’d seen the three floor-to-ceiling filing cabinets in Jazz’s office dedicated to the Laughing Magician alone, but the halfa was nothing if not dedicated to the bit. 

When he’d sensed Constantine’s magic at work, he’d hijacked the summoning circle for his own use- suck it, a king trumps whatever entity Constantine was trying to get and Danny was less likely to want his soul in return for a favor. 

(Did it really count when he’d already gifted the glued together pieces of the guy’s soul to Jazz as a paperweight?) 

“Phantom, lad, why’re you here?”

The Ghost boy huffed a laugh, the building annoyance in the air just from his presence was fueling his life force. 

“What, can’t say hi to a friend now? After all the work I did to stop that demon from coming instead too.” 

(Lies.) (The summoning had been for an observant, but those bastard eyebags can eat a dick for all he cared.)

“Demon?” Constantine’s voice cracked with surprise, gaze flickering over the runes he’d lazily copied from a book. 

“Yep.” 

“Constantine.” A growl interrupted whatever comeback the Magician could have conjured, with the shadows of the darkened room parting to allow the Dark Knight himself to step through. “There is no time.” 

“Aye, Batsy.” The brit turned back to Phantom, an edge of desperation now coloring the annoyance the ghost had brought. “Phantom, I need a favor.” 

Phantom blinked. 

“Uh, sure dude?” 

“Constantine.” Batman interrupted again, but the sad trenchcoat man waved him off.

“Your people been wreckin’ government buildings and the bloody USA is throwing a fit.” 

Government buildings? Phantom’s people? The GIW? 

Could his luck really be in his favor this time? After all, here was Batman, and the sad trenchcoat man who could verify that Phantom was a spirit of protection and not one of vengeance. 

(He left that to the Regent.)

“If that’s the case, then there is nothing I can do.” 

(He would be right there with his people. What’s a few more buildings destroyed to free the innocent ghosts trapped within?) 

“Whot?” 

Phantom crossed his arms, allowing gravity to bring him to the floor where he stood at his full height. Unintimidating was one word for it, but he couldn’t really care less at the moment. 

“The GIW have committed acts of War against the Infinite Realms, Constantine. It’s only thanks to the Regent and Future King that this Living Realm hasn’t been claimed by the Unquiet Dead.” 

It was true. Jazz was the best Regent Danny could’ve ever gotten. She was liminal enough to understand that the Denziens of the Realms were not inherently malicious, but human enough to realize that she too would be afraid of the ghosts if she hadn’t been raised around the dead and (un)dying.

It was only thanks to that fine line she walked that Phantom wasn’t to join the Unquiet Dead and Neverborn as they descended onto the Living with the fury of thousand suns. 

Danny, while a half-ghost, had died unlike his big sister. Sure he was brought back by Ectoplasm, but he had only returned halfway and that part of him was chomping at the bit to avenge those who were ended that he couldn’t protect. 

“Here.” Phantom shallowly intoned as he pulled a flash drive from his chest, thrown to the big bat. “That contains all collected information the Regent was comfortable sharing with the Living. Share it with your league and get the Acts demolished, Batman.” 

Phantom sighed heavily, shoulders drooping as he finished in a tired voice, “Please. I don’t want to fight. Please don’t make me go to war.” 

Was he trying to tug on the Bat’s heartstrings? Yes. Was he being honest in not wanting to got to war? Also yes. 

“War?” 

“Yeah, all denziens of the Realms would have to fight. We’re all effected by the Acts, even if we don’t want to hurt anyone we’d have to…for our right to exist.” Phantom replied lowly. “I’m a spirit of protection, I don’t want to hurt the innocent.” 

(It was a truth he had come to terms with, after his sister killed their parents.)

(He died wanting to be loved and protected by the adults who claimed to be his parents, but it had been Jazz that raised him.) 

(She avenged him twice over.)

(She gave him a grave.)

A/N: No Hardcover/Anger Management ship content this time, just lore for this world I'm building.

And look, Sad trenchcoat man!

Song quotes are from the same songs on my Jazz/Jason playlist. Typically the song that started playing when I get ready to post this.

[samgirl98]

Mending a Family 12/?

Prev | Next

Shit like this wasn’t supposed to happen in small towns. Yet here he was, in the middle of an armed robbery. The two men had a handgun each and were waving them around. Jason thought Canada had stricter gun laws, for God’s sake. Jason hid Danny behind his body and thanked whatever little luck he had that Jazz, and Ellie had stayed home.

And all because Jason had wanted some ice cream.

“Nobody be a hero. Give me the money, bitch!”

One man pointed the gun at the poor cashier, who looked close to tears, and the other pointed it at the three customers in the little convenience store.

Usually, Jason would be the first to jump into action, but he had Danny to think about now. Said kid pulled on Jason’s shirt and asked in a low voice, “Daddy, aren’t we gonna do something?”

“No, we’re gonna stay behind these shelves and let the proper authorities deal with it,” Jason whispered.

Danny actually pouted, pouted!

“But daddy, we have to help!”

Jason got Danny and held him close to his chest. Jason got on the floor and made himself small. He didn’t want attention on them and wanted to stop Danny from playing hero.

He should’ve remembered Danny had been one before, and he had powers. His son, his precious baby boy, turned invisible and intangible. Jason just about had a heart attack. Jason couldn’t risk calling out for Danny because that would draw attention to him.

The men were about to leave when they crashed into something invisible.

(If Jason squinted, he could just make out a green force field.)

Suddenly, both men’s pants fell to the floor, and when they looked down, distracted, both guns were knocked out of their hands and landed in front of Jason. Jason got one gun and pointed the other one at the men.

“Don’t move,” he ordered. Both men held up their hands and dropped the money. Jason watched as shoelaces were untied and then tied together to one another. The men got scared and tried to run when they heard police sirens, but they fell.

Jason heard a giggle at his side and watched his son return to the visible spectrum.

He sighed; it seemed he had to have a long talk with Danny.

____

Danny pouted in the back seat as Jason lectured him.

They ended up held up for only under an hour after the armed robbery attempt. It was a small town, and everyone knew everyone. The cashier and the other three customers in the store knew that the two robbers were Donnie and Tanner Evans, two brothers who were always getting into trouble.

How those two idiots thought they would be able to get away with it, Jason didn’t know. At least in Gotham, the city was big enough for idiots to get away with robbing small convenience stores.

Jason sighed; how did this even happen to him?

It’s because he had shit luck, that’s why. And now his son was mad at him for not playing vigilante and lecturing him for playing hero.

“I’m serious, Danny. You could’ve gotten hurt!”

“But I didn’t! What do you want, dad, for me to let others get hurt?”

“Yes, I mean, no, I mean—look, Danny, you’re too young to make these decisions.”

Danny glared, his eyes turning Lazarus Pit green. (Jason ignored his eyes glowing in response to Danny’s anger.)

“Look, Danny, I’m not mad. I was worried. I’m disappointed you didn’t listen to me,” Danny interrupted.

“Everyone knows that’s worse than anger!”

“You need to listen to what I say. You can’t put yourself in danger that way.”

“Like you’ve never put yourself in danger,” his precious, precious son mumbled, “you used to be a vigilante.”

Jason wished he had Alfie. How did he put up with their danger-seeking habits? It was a miracle the butler was still alive because Jason felt like his heart was trying to leave his body through his chest.

“Wait till I tell your sister about this.”

“Ha! Jazz encourages my heroism! You lose.”

“We’ll see.”

____

“What were you thinking, Daniel James Fenton?”

Danny watched as his daddy smirked at him, pleased. Jazz, the traitor, continued to scream at him.

“But Jazzie,” he whined, “I couldn’t just do nothing.”

Jazz pinched the bridge of her nose.

“Danny, we aren’t in Amity Park anymore. We’re trying to keep a low profile, and, in case you haven’t noticed, you’re like three years old!”

“I’m sixteen in the body of a five-year-old! And you can’t tell me what to do; you’re not mom!”

Danny regretted saying that as soon as Jazz’s face fell.

“Danny, apologize to your sister,” his dad barked out.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, “it just came out.”

Jazz took a deep breath and continued, “I accept your apology, but Danny, you must be more careful. What if the cameras caught you?”

His dad had automatically hacked the convenience store’s cameras and found out that only one worked, and it was pointed at the entrance. Thankfully, it hadn’t captured Danny using his powers.

“Look, lad, like I said, I’m not mad, but you have to be careful when and where to use your powers. If I tell you not to, you don’t. Understand?”

“Yes, daddy.”

“Good, now, you’re grounded. No going outside for two days and no ice cream, either.”

“Aw, man, why daddy?”

“You disobeyed a direct order, that’s why.”

Danny pouted, and Jason had to harden his heart. Danny got off the chair and started going to his room.

“Danny lad, wait.”

Danny turned.

“You know I love you, right?”

“Yes, I can feel it.”

“Good,” Jason kissed Danny’s forehead. “You scared me today.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I can’t lose you, lad.”

Danny hugged his dad and let waves of love and reassurance hit the man. He might be disappointed that he was grounded, but Danny knew how much he had scared his dad. So, he would, mostly, take the punishment gracefully.

Jason watched Danny go to his room and plop hard on the chair.

“You okay, Jay?”

“Yeah, just, I got scared I would lose him, y’know?”

Jazz put her hand on his shoulder, “You’re a good dad.”

“I was so afraid to lose him today. What if I had,” Jason asked hysterically, “I’m a horrible father. I should’ve kept a better eye on him!”

“Jason, you’re spiraling. Danny is fine.”

Jason wondered if Bruce ever felt the way Jason was feeling now. How had Bruce raised a feral Dick Grayson and a rule-breaking Jason Todd? He kind of wished he had his dad near him to ask.

(He would take Danny away; Jason could never talk to Bruce again.)

“Do you think I handled it right?”

Jason wanted some reassurance.

“You did better than you think. Trust me.”

Jason smiled sadly. He hoped he wouldn’t screw things up with Danny.

@idontgetpaidenoughforthisshit @skulld3mort-1fan @theauthorandtheartist @emergentpanda-blog @jaggedheart11 @fisticuffsatapplebees @booberrylizard @fantasticbluebirdfan @thegatorsgooseoose @cyrwrites @kjoboo91 @crystallicedart @amaramizuki666 @spekulatiusmuffin @meira-3919 @kilasmess @bubblemixer @lexdamo @wonderland-daisy @mj-arts-n-stuff @amyheart19 @dolfay @the-church-grimm @undead-essence @aph-mable @lizisipancardo @purrloin77 @writer-extraodinaire @charlietheepic7 @sinfulloccultist @nootherusernameworked @coruscateselene @chaoticchange @itsberrydreemurstuff @gmkelz11 @feral-bunny31 @paroovian @thatonegaybitch68 @d4ydr34min9 @overtherose @fandomwandererer @vipower001 @thordottir45 @blackrabbitt3t @rosecinnamonbun @bianca-hooks123 @epilepticnerd @dat1angel @consouling @flamingenchiladadragon

[imbecominggayer]

Writing Advice On Self-Harm (tw obvi)

Hi, even though this post is going to be about serious issues such as self-harm and suicidal ideation and all of that fun jazz, I am going to speaking about this topic with the same tone I always do. If that is considered offensive, just remember I am a person who has been sent to the crisis center and does self-harm :)

Remember, these are just my personal experiences. Everything is diverse and it's okay to mention that these experiences are not universal. HOWEVER, don't accuse me of lying about any of this shit!

TW: Talks About Self-Harm, Mental Illness, And Everything Related

Actual Introduction:

Despite the fact that whump and angst tend to include mention of suicidal thinking and self-harm, they rarely feel realistic in my own point of view. Obviously, there are various different motivations and actions for self-harm but I just want to see some of my own representation.

So here are some myths about self-harm and myths about mental illness in general since they tend to overlap.

A) Everyone Who Self-Harms And Thinks Of Suicide Is Mentally Ill

Yeah, this is pretty big misconception in the community so I just wanted to establish this.

Outside influences like unhealthy friend circles, stressful situations, and abuse which are linked yet not conclusive for mental illness can influence someone's desire to do self-harm.

While mental illness is a big motivator for self-harm, self-harm is just a coping mechanism. And not everyone who uses coping mechanisms are mentally ill

B) Self-Harm Can Only Happen Like [EXAMPLE]

There are various different ways of self-harming.

Personally, I tend to scratch my arms and specifically my left hand since my dominate hand is my right. It's also just an easy place to reach.

So I get a tinsy bit upset when the only "serious" type of self-harm is shown by cutting. Especially since I felt that the only way someone would ever take me seriously is by using a knife.

Remember, readers are going to be reading your shit so please try and diversify your self-harming from the physical and the mental since every single self-harm habit outside of "ritualistic cutting" tends to be judged as "less serious" or "not real".

Mental self-harm is real and self-destructive.

C) Self-Harm Is Dramatic

This may just be a me-thing but my self-harming mental struggle definitely isn't like how other people write it.

Genuinely, I treat self-harm like it's just another thing I do.

"Oh yeah, sometimes I write, do a bit of scratching, read a book, and watch youtube"

I self-harmed exclusively in public spaces since my self-harm is mostly conflated with my anxiety. And these people do not notice a thing. Genuinely. LIke, I have literally turned my entire hand red and bloody and nobody noticed.

It's just that nobody ever suspects it since people don't think of scratching casually in class when they think of self-harm.

When I was forced to go the crisis center since I expressed planning of suicide, I was making jokes the entire time.

When I shared a room with this amazing person(they/them) who had bipolar disorder. We just talked about our sexualities, job dreams, and watched The Amazing World Of Gumball.

I miss them.

GRAND CONCLUSION:

The point of this last section is to illustrate the fact that those with mental illness aren't removed from society in the way authors tend to write them.

In the minds of authors, once you express possible symptoms of a mental illness you become this melodramatic inhuman spectacle of misery.

I'm pretty normal. I have hobbies that have no deep psychological justification. I have a family that isn't just pure trauma in a trench coat. I have thoughts of normal sadness, happiness, peace, and anger.

I just also happen to self-harm sometimes.

Again, this section might be problematic and bad but it's just how I feel. And there is no such thing as a "problematic feeling". All there exists are problematic actions.

TO REITERATE, IF YOU DON'T AGREE WITH ME THAT IS FINE. I AM NOT THE GOD OF MENTAL STRUGGLE. I JUST WANTED TO THROW OUT MY OPINION.

sorry for offending anyone :(

[brightdarkness-2013]

Chapter 15: And Heres Another One!

Summary:Jazz brings Prowl m&ms.

It was a boring run of the mill Tuesday afternoon. Barricade was getting a tube shoved down his throat again as he still refused to eat. Prowl didn’t bother trying to encourage him to eat once they started force feeding, but so long as Prowl didn’t mind then he must be fine. He was healing much better now that they had a little nest. He’d just lay in front of the entrance all day and briefly moved when Prowl emerged. Within another few days we were thinking of trying to merge them with another broken pod. It was a group of three that we’ve had for a while. Five wouldn’t be a complete pod, but with a larger number they could survive out in the ocean. One mating season and a mix with another pod and surely they’d have another in no time. A red mer and a golden mer and a little mini that had somehow gotten into the group. All of them had a bad habit of splashing anyone nearby, but they did it without the intention to harm or make things harder. They liked attention and liked to play with anyone who was willing. They didn’t bite or growl or hiss anymore. The golden mer didn’t join in as much and spent a lot of time grooming himself, but even he had a more playful side. They had, had a bad run in with some hunters and their pod stuck out with the glimmering scales. They were far too brightly colored for their own good and their chosen spot by the reef nearby had given the hunters easy access.

Quite honestly I didn’t think it was a good idea. Anything that had to do with Barricade was a bad idea. Trying to get him to play nice was an even worse idea.There was no way it was going to go over well. If it was possible I’d find a way to get Prowl to drop his pod member. The mer was way too aggressive and I swear he’d rip anyone or thing apart that entered his space. I could picture him slaughtering Prowl. There was nothing I could do about that and from what I had seen two of the three were fighters. The mini was more of a scout. Checking for danger and looking around stealthily enough to not be caught before returning to tell it’s pod members. The little thing was fast, but unfortunately young and the event had scarred the poor thing. Hopefully when the time came he’d keep away from Barricade.

“Prowl. I know you’re in there.”

I sat on the feeding stand as I pulled out the colored bag. I shook it a few times and watched the hidden entrance to the makeshift nest. No response. He didn’t even stir from what I could see. I frowned.

“I brought ya a treat… Blaster, I need ya!”

“What? He’s still shunning you?”

“Quit laughing at me and get up here.”

“I don’t think m&ms fix everything.” He shook his head as he climbed the stairs.

“They don’t need to. Just need to soften the blows and warm him back up to the idea of forgiving me.”

“Right. Of course. How could I have ever doubted you?”

“I could do without the sarcasm, Best Friend.”

He however just laughed at me again. “Prowl. Come here, we have a treat for you.”

And of course at Blasters call he stuck his head out. I held up the color package for him to see and he inched out a little more. Maybe he hadn’t swam up like he usually had, but this was a start and at least he was considering it. I dumped a few of the colorful candies into Blasters palm. He dipped his hand into the water and Prowl cleared the distance with a flick of his tail. It was pretty neat to actually be able to see him so clearly. We thought his movements were graceful and effortless before, but without the mix of sand and other particles that shifted around him in the sea it was amazing to see he barely moved at all. His wing fins would shift the smallest amount, almost like a twitch, and with one flick of his tail he was moving far faster and smoother than it looked like he should have. Each of his movements were precise and not without thought. He knew what he had to do and how much effort he needed before he even moved.

“So you’re still upset with Jazz? Yeah I know what you mean. He can get on my nerves sometimes too.” Blaster glanced back at me as Prowl took the candy from his hand.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I am a delight.”

“Most of the time. You’re persistent, which can be annoying at times, you come up with schemes that are unnecessary in every way shape and form, and of course we can’t forget the fact that despite your chipper, music loving, and friend making personality you can be a devious bastard. Maybe you don’t like your sister too much but apparently you like her enough to prank her ex for a week.”

“Hey, my ‘schemes’ make people smile. Plus he was an asshole and shouldn’t have dumped her for that slut Lacey. They didn’t even last a month anyway.” I countered with a hint of defiance.

“Did he really deserve you hacking your way into his school account and replacing his debate report with a history report on pimps and hookers?”

“Yes. If he didn’t want his account to be hacked he shouldn’t of had his password set as his dog’s name. He bragged about it enough.” I replied and he rolled his eyes.

“...Your Schemes make everyone uneasy.”

“Oh really? Because I’m pretty sure my last ‘scheme’ was your surprise birthday party.”

“You led me into a room blindfolded to get ambushed with silly string and then you mixed mentos in with the ice bucket and way too many times to count someones drink exploded.”

“Hey it was fun. It was a great party.”

“Ok yeah it was fun, but I still think you could step back a bit sometimes.” He relented.

“That’s what I thought.” I grinned as I made an attempt to offer Prowl some m&ms only for him to turn away. “Really? I thought we had something special.”

Blaster took the chance to laugh at my misfortune once again. I was very tempted to shove him into the tank.

Next

First

Masterpost

[jennay]

The Set Up (3)

I'll See You Around

Master List

AN: Ok, this has some out-of-the-blue drama, but I wasn't ready to end it...I have some plans, some twists and turns, if you guys would like to see them! Feel free to leave some encouragement. I would love that. This might be closer to have like 5-7 Chapters if I continue to get positive feedback. Anyways I hope you enjoy and just know there is more to come :)

Warnings: none other than it's long. 🤷🏻‍♀️

Rory rechecks his phone, wondering where you are. He'd been waiting for half an hour at the trendy restaurant that Kieran picked, and he was getting bored and restless. He wished you were there to chat with him and make him laugh. He starts to worry that you have changed your mind about him. Maybe you didn't want to come but felt too polite to refuse. Maybe you lost interest in him, and this was your way of telling him.

He looks out the window, hoping to see you walking towards the entrance. Rory hates admitting it, but he was more excited than expected and now felt he was preparing for a letdown. He feels a soft tap on his shoulder and turns to his brother, who gives him a reassuring smile. He knows Rory is imagining the worst possible scenario.

"She'll be here, dude. She's late to everything." Kieran says, trying to reassure him. He puts his hand on Rory's shoulder and squeezes him. "She'd be late for her wedding. Time management is not her strong point." He adds jokingly, hoping to make Rory laugh. He knows Rory is nervous and insecure and wants him to relax and enjoy himself. Rory forces a weak smile and nods. He knows Kieran is right. You have a habit of losing track of time or getting distracted by something. You're always running late, but you usually have a good excuse and a sincere apology. You're not rude or careless, just a bit scatterbrained. 

"Trust me," Kieran says, "We had her taking the kids to daycare for a while and the amount of times she showed up late or too early is impossible to count." He chuckles. "The woman almost missed her audition… it's just part of who she is and well, I guess we love her for it." 

Rory laughs, "Yeah, talking to her on facetime can be kind of a nightmare sometimes."

He sends you a quick text hoping you're at least OK. Hey, you're probably on your way. I wanted to make sure you're doing all right. In the end, he adds a smiley face, trying to sound friendly.

Guilt hits you like a ton of bricks. Why were you like this? You curse yourself for being so late. You ask the cab driver if you're close, and he nods, "About five minutes." He sounds annoyed, and you don't blame him. You've been stuck in traffic for ages, and the meter is running high. You quickly text Rory back, feeling bad you were already a half hour late. I'm five minutes out. I took a cab; remind me to drive next time. This time it was only kind of my fault. You add a winking face, hoping he'll find it cute and not rude. 

I drove so I could escape if everything went terrible. Don't judge me. 

You laugh at the text. How smart. 

"There isn't any parking. Would you like to get out here?" The cab driver asks, pointing to a spot a few blocks from the restaurant. "Yeah, I can walk. It's just right there." You say, grabbing your purse and phone. You pay him quickly and thank him, then walk towards the restaurant. "Fuck." You mutter to yourself. "OK, you can do this." You pull your jacket close to your body and smooth your dress down. You see Kieran's car parked outside and wonder how the man got that lucky with parking. He always had good luck, unlike you.

You take a deep breath to calm your nerves before opening the door. 

"Hey, you were under an hour!" You hear Kieran's voice. He stands up and hugs you like he hasn't seen you in ages, though it's been hours. You know he's excited and wants to see how his plan will work out. 

"Don't listen to him." Jazz objects. She gently hurries him out of the way and wraps her arms around you. "It's nice to see you. I feel like it's been too long."

"I agree. Sorry I was late…I left early but somehow, well, you know. I'm late." You joke.

It's not until the two parts that your eyes land on the person behind them. Rory. 

A smile drapes your lips, and you attempt not to cheese out too hard. "Hi." You quietly say while reaching out for a hug. "It's good to see you. Not on a phone screen." You laugh, feeling a bit nervous. You wonder if he can hear your heart pounding in your chest.

"I'm glad you made it." He gently pulls back, still looking at you with admiration, "You look amazing." He says, making you blush.

"Thank you." You whisper, losing your breath a little. Seeing him in person made you melt completely. He was more handsome in person, with his messy brown hair, sharp jaw, and charming smile. 

The hostess leads you to your table, and Rory doesn't hesitate, gently lacing his fingers with yours and guiding you there. You feel warmth as your hands touch, and you squeeze his hand lightly. He smiles at you, and you smile back. You glance back at Kieran, slightly surprised. He raises his thumb and winks, clearly happy his plan is working. He looks proud of himself like he's done you a favor.

Jazz rolls her eyes and slaps his arm lightly, scolding him in a low voice. "Stop it. You're so embarrassing!" She says, but you can tell her husband's antics amuses her. 

Rory chuckles as he lets you slide into the booth first. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs touch. Jazz and Kieran sit across from you, automatically ordering adult beverages, and you do the same. You order a glass of wine, hoping it will calm your nerves. 

"So," Kieran says, scanning his menu, "What are you guys thinking for food?" He sounds eager and hungry, ready to order and dig in. You could hardly think of food right now. You're too nervous and excited to have any appetite.

You keep your eyes on the menu as you listen to what Rory and Jazz tell him. They seem more decisive and confident than you.

"There are way too many options." You say, feeling slightly overwhelmed. "Why is it like a book?" You flip through the pages, wondering how anyone can choose from so many dishes.

Rory smiles at you, "There's a page for every meat…So," He leans in to scan the page you're looking at, his hand resting on the small of your back as he helps you find something. You feel a tingle when his hand touches you, and you lean into him slightly. "Are you feeling chicken, steak, burgers, or salad?" His voice is soft and warm in your ear, and you're suddenly too distracted to look at the menu.

He takes notice, his eyes peering from the menu, meeting yours. He holds your gaze, making your heart skip a beat. "Do you want a recommendation?" He softly says, his lips curling into a gentle smile.

You nod, feeling your cheeks heat up. You want him to recommend anything as long as he keeps talking to you. You like his voice, his smile, his eyes. You like him. 

 "OK, then I suggest you try the chicken alfredo. It's my favorite dish here. It's creamy and cheesy, and delicious. Trust me, you'll love it." He says, pointing to the menu. He sounds confident and enthusiastic like he knows what he's talking about.

"OK, I'll have that then." You say, smiling back at him. You trust him. You're willing to try anything he suggests.

"Great choice." He says, closing the menu and putting it aside. He leans closer to you, his hand still on your back. He looks into your eyes, and you feel a spark between you. He opens his mouth to say something, but you hear your phone ring before he can, and Kieran audibly sighs from across the table at your annoying ringtone. "Don't you ever turn that off?" 

You look up at Kieran with annoyance. You thought you did turn it off. Your phone rings again, and you see it's your mom. You wonder why she's calling you so late, and you hope everything is OK.

“Sorry I have to answer.” You hold the phone to your ear, “Hey, mom. What's up?" You say, trying to sound casual and cheerful. "Hi, honey. I'm sorry to bother you, I know you're always busy but I think you need to come home." She says, sounding worried and nervous.

"What? Why? What's wrong?" You ask, feeling fear and concern.

“It's your dad. He had a heart attack. He's in the hospital. They're doing tests on him. They don't know how serious it is." She says, her voice breaking.

“Oh, my god. Mom, I'm so sorry.” You feel tears pricking at your eyes.

You slip your phone into your purse, feeling a knot in your stomach. "I have to go." You blink away a few tears, trying to stay calm and strong.

"Let me grab the tab and I'll take you back to the hotel," Kieran offers, getting up from the booth. He looks at you with concern and sympathy, knowing how close you are to your dad.

You shake your head, "It's my dad. I have to go back to New York." You say, knowing you have to catch the next flight home. You don't want to waste any time or miss any chance to see him. 

Rory hurries out of the booth, grabbing your coat and letting you slip it back on. He hugs you gently as the two of you wait for Kieran to return. He wraps his arms around you, making you feel safe and warm. Jazz runs her hand up and down your back, attempting to comfort you. She gives you a sad smile, wishing she could do more for you.

"It's going to be OK." Rory whispers to you, his breath tickling your ear. He doesn't know if it's true, but he hopes it is.

 "I'm sorry." You mutter against his chest, feeling guilty and regretful. You're sorry for leaving him like this. You're sorry for ruining the night for everyone.

"Don't be." He hushes, kissing the top of your head. "I just want you to be OK." He speaks with pure sincerity, meaning every word. 

Kieran returns with the receipt and his keys. He looks at you and Rory, and he nods slightly. knowing Rory wants to say goodbye to you correctly. 

"I'll wait in the car." He says quietly, "Take your time." He leaves the restaurant with Jazz, leaving you and Rory alone briefly.

Rory takes your hand and leads you outside. He walks with you to Kieran's car. He opens the door for you and helps you get in the back seat. He leans in and looks into your eyes, seeing the pain and fear in them, and he feels it too.

He cups your face with his hands and kisses you softly, making you feel a rush of emotions. He kisses you as he means it, like he doesn't want to let you go.

He pulls back slightly and rests his forehead against yours and he strokes your cheek with his thumb, making you shiver. It may not of been the greatest timing for a first kiss but he needed you to know he was serious about you. "I'll call you later." He says softly, promising to keep in touch with you.

"OK."  You whisper nodding your head. "Please text me tonight."

Rory softly closes the door behind you. He waves to you as Kieran starts the engine and drives away and watches the car disappear into the night, feeling sadness.

He hopes this isn't the end of your story.

Part 4

[chaosk1ng]

Isaac Clarke somehow ended up with the Mandalorians again. I swear I didn't mean for this to happen again.

Fuck, I'm back at it again.

Another Star Wars x Dead Space crossover, this time it’s the original thought process! (I lied, it's the original era I had in mind but not the same thought process.)

So Isaac once again manages to get stuck in a galaxy far far away, only this time it's the prequel era, I’m thinking of the Clone Wars era.

If he’s in Mandalore then he could be mistaken for a new type of Mandalorian or knock off version that neither Death Watch or the New Mandalorians want. The True Mandalorians probably would have mixed feelings, he could be an asset but he’s an unknown party that doesn’t even seem to want to be involved and knows nothing about them despite looking like the Wish version of them. Maybe he accidentally gets involved with their plot, honestly I can’t see him helping Death Watch, the only way they could get him to help would be tricking him but not only do I think they wouldn’t want to be associated with Isaac but also because I think Isaac wouldn’t get tricked that easily by them. Then again, he did go to the Ishimura for his dead girlfriend who he thought was alive, but that was because of the Marker’s influence so that’s a pass. He probably would help the True Mandalorians since the New Mandalorians don’t like armor or violence which would suck for Isaac who just committed a massacre. The mental images of a blood stained Isaac appearing in a crowd of New Mandalorians is hilarious.

If he does get involved with all the Mandalorians jazz that goes on then he can do the other stuff after. Now I wanna expand on Isaac and the Mandalorians. Shootdangit. (Yes, I do mean that to be one word, that’s how I say it irl)

So focusing on this now, Isaac could (should) probably be placed before Jaster’s death (romance? No, not again. Stop giving me potential old men yaoi material. It’s not my fault they wear helmets). Man accidentally stops Jaster’s death if he ended up before it happens, but also consider this, if it’s after then Jango is parentless, Isaac is parentless, Isaac can become a bad influence on this kid. I’m not saying Jango should get adopted by Isaac cause they both now have problems they need to deal with at the moment to even think about that type of thing, but Jango picking up Isaac’s habits is funny to think of. Jango just curb stops everything, and learns curses from Isaac which would be headturners in this universe since they don’t exist, but please let someone say fuck. Jaster doesn’t need to die to have Isaac influencing Jango, I think he could get along with Isaac and understand where he’s coming from and why he’s confused and likely panicked. I was gonna say that maybe Isaac could try and fight Death Watch before Jango’s parents die but I don’t want to deal with the effect that would happen so Jango, it’s easier with Jaster since you still keep the connections and all that but also see how much the years have worn on them. Isaac needs someone to help him learn, if it’s between the three factions then the True Mandalorians.

HOLY SHIT I JUST REMEMBERED ARLA

I was writing a part later in this rant and remembered her and had an idea, Isaac saves Arla before meeting Jaster and Jango and basically adopts her, that or gives her to Jaster. I don’t care if Jaster isn’t their dad in either of the canons, he can be if I will it! I have the power over the canon of MY fic/rant, fuck you Star Wars writers! (jk, I love star wars, just not the crap in this Disney era, some was good tho.) Anyway, if Arla just kinda forces Isaac to adopt her or if something that happens subconsciously then both her and Jango can compete against each other about who has the better dad. Isaac is somehow getting by and Jaster has already been raising this boy for years up until now, you would think that Jaster would win but Isaac has some things on Jaster, like his weapons and modules and literally everything he possesses because I am very willing to bring up the crap his RIG can do. He can store information of different kinds, has a navigation system that has both a map and guide to show him where he needs to go and can store things of all kinds in it, he can survive in space with it and knows how long he can last AND not only walk on any surface while in the vacuum of space but also move however he wants. You can argue the Mandalorians can use their Jetpacks to do the same but my man’s abilities have not been hindered, he weapons all still work the same and so do his modules, the only thing holding him back is the fact he has limited air at a time and has only fought the Necromorphs. This is ignoring the other features the RIG has. Fuck you, he can hold his own decently by my standards which admittedly are not that high. Anyway, the sibling rivalry is real, one of them has a dad who was and is seen by them as the Mand’alor and this deeply traumatized man who only a few days ago just wanted to save his (dead) girlfriend.

Anyway, if he meets a different faction, he could meet the Children of the Watch. In my last rant of ideas with him in the Mandalorian, I had him co-parenting Grogu with Din, in this one Isaac can become a parent again but instead of Grogu it’s Din this time. He could either appear with the Children of the Watch a little before they rescue him or he could appear as they arrive to help. Either way, we can get Din getting raised by Isaac and him reluctantly becoming a parent, once again he could teach him curse words, have people say fuck in Star Wars, it’s fucking funny. I can’t see Isaac becoming a Mandalorian but I can see him having either good or neutral relations with them, some would like him and maybe befriend him for his winning personality but others may just like him for jobs they need done. Anyway, he could have connections to the Mandalorians and somewhat raise Din in that lifestyle, maybe just have it influence him so if he really wants to he could become one in the future. I could see him wanting to because they’re the closest thing to Isaac in the fact that they wear armor all the time and are warriors, he doesn’t need to know Isaac is just running on adrenaline while on fight or flight mode. Imagine his surprise when he finds out Isaac doesn’t actually know what makes a Mandalorian and the fact he’s just an Engineer and his one of a kind weapons are just tools he found, Din doesn’t need to find out about the Necromorphs until he’s older, hell maybe not at all. Point is that he could just have an accidental baby acquisition fic with him fumbling and eventually going into hiding as the Empire forms. Maybe we see his reaction to the Great Purge, maybe he helped a few of the few he was close to, maybe he finds out after it happened by a Mandalorian friend he had that he comforts, maybe he helped a few clans escape, maybe he was there and saw so many die, maybe he was hiding as he saw the terror unfold, either way he would be devastated at the amount of people he knew and their sudden deaths. He could help keep contact between clans since he isn’t Mandalorian and doesn’t look like one, either way he would be an asset to them after the Purge.

Another thing I want to briefly mention here is him meeting Revan, not long but just a little thought. If he went to the Old Republic and met Revan then he would be so confused if he stuck with him or had any form of contact with him. I love Revan and all but for someone like Isaac who has no idea what a Mandalorian, Jedi and Sith are he would be confused as hell to meet him, my man Revan has been all three. I just want to see how confused Isaac can get with Revan.

Anyway, Old Men Yaoi time™! I think I just like shipping masked men with masked men but still. Just like the last rant with the Mandalorian, this is just an excuse to have the two co-parent Jango and Arla. Maybe Arla does become Isaac’s kid and her and Jango think that since they’re both siblings and they both have their own dad that it only makes sense if they finalize it by getting them together. Basically they Parent Trap Jaster and Isaac, maybe the other True Mandalorians help or start a betting pool, some could try and sabotage it so they win said betting pool. Isaac could ask some of the parents of the group about tips in raising a child to which some could point him to Jaster if they’re trying to help get them together since he’s raising her brother, or if they’re trying to stall then they either will give him advice or warn him not to ask Jaster since he might become a father for Arla instead of him. I don’t think Isaac sees this as a problem because he knows they both have shit they have to deal with and he’s sure that he can’t be a proper father figure for her and does go to Jaster regardless who could give him good insight. Jaster could already have a thing for Isaac for saving Arla, his son’s sister who they thought was dead, and saving his life either before or after meeting the True Mandalorians, Isaac could’ve barely found them in time to save Jaster, maybe give him some medpacks so he doesn’t die. This could lead to him admiring or respecting Isaac to keep it platonic or have it also cause him to develop a crush on him and eventually develop as they talk more and get closer, add in the fact he’s raising the sister of your son and it’s already a done deal for Jaster, he will be too far gone while Isaac is hesitant as hell. I would like to say it’s one of those ‘Blank fell first but Blank fell faster’ but if they fell for eachother then it’s ‘Jaster fell fast and hard while Isaac is slowly walking down a slope at a snail’s pace.’ or alternatively, ‘Jaster fell fast and hard while Isaac is slowly climbing down like he has acrophobia.’

Anyway, this derailed again, it was originally gonna just be Isaac fumbling his way through the Clone Wars and somehow helping resolve it, y’know like other crossovers that are just fix-its and have goofy interactions with the characters but it once again ended up with Isaac getting caught up with the Mandalorians. You can see how my views changed as I went on. I need to stop, get me out the kitchen, this ain’t what I meant to cook.

[dramatisperscnae]

@thegirlwondcr [x]

"Okay, first off--thank you, thank you, thank you." Emma started off, trying to ease into actually answering his question. "Also, you are my favorite brother, I don't know if I've ever told you that, but you are." This seemed like the best way to approach this. The happier he was, the more chances she had of Bruce never knowing about this. The crime? Embarrassment, to say the least. A misunderstanding that escalated way too quick, that probably would have never happened if she had never been trained as Robin. "I was just getting a few snacks at this convenience store. Because there are just some snacks Alfred will refuse to get me because he says they are way too unhealthy, but sometimes it is just nice to have an overprocessed snack full of dye." Emma justified before actually getting into the crime at hand. "Well, I bought some snacks and on my way out some random customer said 'Hey you didn't pay for that' when after I just did that. So naturally, I argued with him, and then he reached over to me to which I then punched him in the face because I thought he was trying to attack me or something. Then he punches back, and then we are just punching back and forth until the cops showed up..." Then she hesitated, embarrassment and regret clear on her face. "Turns out I had left a pack of crackers in my pocket..." "But you have to promise not to tell Bruce about it, he will bench me for an entire year. You also can't tell Alfred because then he's going to just make me eat vegetables nonstop for the next six months." She begged of her brother. "Nobody got hurt! Well except for the guy--but broken noses can heal! And I can cover all my bruises in concealer or just say I fell off the bleachers like five times."

Quite honestly, it was all Dick could do to keep a straight face as Emma launched into her explanation. He hadn't really cared why she'd been at that convenience store - if she wanted snacks she could have snacks, he wasn't going to tell her no considering his own eating habits would probably have Alfred giving him a lecture on proper nutrition if the man ever found out - he'd been more interested in why she'd been in a fight.

Turned out, the story was so incredibly facepalm worthy Dick really had to fight not to laugh. An overreaction of epic proportions that, honestly, as a lone girl on Gotham streets, Dick couldn't entirely fault her for; strange men grabbing for you would make anyone react, and some people's fight-or-flight only had one setting. Add in an accusation of theft and, well, it was almost understandable.

Almost.

The good thing was that Emma seemed to understand she'd fucked up. By rights Dick ought to be delivering the lecture he knew Bruce probably would, about responsibility and reasonable application of force and all that jazz, but quite honestly Emma seemed fully aware of what she'd done and why she'd been in the wrong here. Mostly, anyway. And she'd almost certainly be getting that lecture from Bruce anyway once the man heard about it; Emma was incredibly naive to think it wouldn't get back to him somehow.

"You honestly think you got dragged down to GCPD Central and Commissioner Gordon isn't gonna hear about it?" he asked her, raising an eyebrow. "And once he hears about it, Bruce definitely will. This not even getting into the fact that since Bruce is your legal guardian he's probably already been notified anyway even though you called me to come get you." No, there was no way Bruce wasn't going to know about this. What there could be was Dick on Emma's side to try and soften whatever punishment might be coming.

"Look, you know you fucked up, right?" he asked. "Forget about should'ves and shouldn'ts, you know you fucked up, right? Maybe the guy could've handled his side better, but you going right to violence?" That wasn't how Bruce trained her. Dick knew that for certain. Especially in civilian life, de-escalation should be the immediate go-to.

[fullgrownpalace]

Hi! I just wanted to say I adore the way you draw Ma'am! She's really pretty in your style ^^

Question wise though, do you have any headcanons or anything like that for her or any of the other characters?

I wish I hadn’t accidentally privately responded to a previous question about my headcanons for her, because it was a LONG LIST, but I’ll try and list a few!

This’ll be long so it’s all shoved under the cut, minus some more private HC’s-

Full Grown/Ma’am

• She’s a huge sweets fan, and once Big Deal gets better at cooking and baking, she has a habit of stealing away muffins or cookies, much to the exasperation and chitterings of him.

• I give her battle scars beneath her suit!

• She has some sort of connection to Reggie which royally pisses her off for A WHILE, especially as Endless tries to push for their friendship. In comes my mentor!AU where a greater looming evil forces them to call a truce and they eventually become like family.

• She’s the original leader/Queen of Endless before Bad Things happened and shunted her into the volcanic stasis until Reggie revives her.

• She’s the original creation of Endless. She was made by a very, very lonely little girl who desperately needed a friend and was scared of growing up, who got whisked away to Endless at its most baby state. Full Grown bloomed into life just about the same age as the girl who created her, and she ages alongside her until the girl grows away from Endless and finally stops coming to Endless. Ma’am stops aging from there.

• She likes wrestling, obviously, but she also likes hockey. She likes the fighting lol

• Big Deal’s affections scare her and make her anxious, she’s scared of niceness and affection in *general*, so she acts up, acts out, lashing out and thrashing and acting petulant in her denial to try and create distance. It doesn’t work.

• She can play a few musical instruments! Namely the piano and guitar, but a few others too.

• She can speak a few different languages, mostly because one of my favorite Matt Berry songs has French in it and I said she can.

• Her music tastes are very wide and varying but she favors acid jazz, psychedelic rock, and hypno-pop.

• Ma’am is OLD, lmao. She clearly is themed around astro-retro futurism of the 50s and 60s, between her house, her theme song, her aesthetic, so I like to put the height of her leadership around those eras.

• She /likes/ entertaining guests. Beneath all her bristle and coldness and axe-crazy mania, when she’s not putting out her icy, angry exterior, she *likes* having guests and being able to entertain. We see her even say that she likes having guests when Brown Roger comes around (poor Brown Roger lol)

• She likes roller skating

• She’s got a closet full of unique clothes, but after Bad Things and her stasis in the volcano, she sticks to wearing her Endless suit because her clothes feel too personal and vulnerable for a long time.

• She’s a hopeless romantic at heart, though terribly scorned, so she hides it beneath briars and thorns and chaos. She loves chick flicks and romance novels and she values loyalty and respect.

• Her and modern technology are Not Friends. Her range in technology goes up until the late 80s/early 90s, and I KNOW the show is technically supposed to take place in that era but that completely bypassed me back in 2019 when I started making my AUs, which take place 2015 and above, so modern technology makes her curse and sneer and growl in frustration.

• She just really likes food. Big Deal has to learn fast how to cook and bake properly for her because she gets very cranky when she’s hungry and she eats A Lot.

• She’s like a giant lizard cat. She’s very bendy and flexible, likes climbing trees and crawling around searching for shiny things, and she likes basking under the sun, even if she complains about being around others the whole time (she’ll also grab Big Deal and curl around him because he’s a little furnace, much to his flustered-ness)

• She’s genderfluid and queer. She doesn’t care about earth terms, she’s a shapeshifting alien queen in a different dimension, human customs and opinions don’t really matter when it comes to who *she* is.

• She and Big Deal manage to cross over onto earth at some point and she creates earth human forms for them.

• I technically have a full name for her but thatsss a bit private and will only be revealed if I talk to you for a while hdhfjd

I have a lot more but for the sake of saving time, I just have those for now for her.

Reggie

• CHAOS GIRL- she maintains her chaotic, bright, colorful nature even into adulthood. I really like focusing on her and her friends growing up into young adults because like.. self projection and also because this show is *about* growing up, and it’s SO interesting exploring that facet and seeing how their personalities, ESPECIALLY Reggie’s, grow and flux, yet how they still stay true to themselves.

• She /can/ sing a lil bit but it’s one of the few things she’s very shy about, between bullying and befriending people like Todd and Esther, and eventually Gwen, who are all so musically oriented, so she kinda just.. hides that she can kinda sing by being so overly dramatic about *badly* singing.

• She grows a steady mentorship/apprentice dynamic with Full Grown (though it depends on AU for how old she is when that mentorship starts, for my main one, she’s almost 13, for a few of my others, she’s older teens) who eventually becomes a like a very dear family member to her

• She’s a sporty girl when she hits her teens. She’s got a LOT of energy and frustration to expel and she winds up enrolling in volleyball, hockey, and rollerderby throughout her teen years to help her adrenaline junkie life and it helps with the frustrations of Having To Grow Up.

• She keeps her tooth gap, she never gets it corrected, and she’s got a very crooked and mischievous smile that lasts her whole life.

• She’s COVERED in freckles.

• She’s very shy around Conelly for a WHILE, they don’t even start dating til Reggie’s like 16.

• She’s actually very good with science, it just takes Ma’am’s mentorship to help her realize that ‘hey she actually sometimes likes learning’ and she likes astronomy, astro-physics, physics, and chemistry (she finds interest when she’s being taught magic and finds out there’s a lot of science behind potions and magic)

• She’s forever a foodie, always munching and eating SOMETHING. She’s a frequent food thief and steals snacks from Mack and Beefhouse, from Full Grown and Big Deal, and from her friends.

• She’s the championed Knight of Endless, in all essential aspects. She undergoes weapons training from Full Grown when she hits adulthood due to other threats on Endless.

• She LIKES dressing up, she LIKES dresses sometimes, she just doesn’t like dressing up the way Judy wants her to, and she doesn’t like feeling clumsy and doesn’t like feeling like she’s just playing dress up to be someone she’s not (unless it’s cosplay, she gets her friends into cosplaying with her).

• Most of her wardrobe I draw her in comes directly from my closet or from my style.

• She gets rebellious with her friends when they’re 16/17 and Todd’s older brother takes them to get ear piercings together, so she’s got two lobe piercings and industrial piercings on both ears. When she’s older, she also has a tongue piercing, because she thought it was Cool™️ and she likes to stim with it.

• In my main mentor!AU, she chops all her hair off to her shoulders directly after her 18th birthday in a fit of frustration and rage and panic. Mood.

• She also puts colored streaks in her choppy hair when she’s older, regardless of shortness or longness, she’s got green, pink, and blue streaks randomly smattered through her hair.

• She’s got severe ADHD and is possibly autistic

• She ALSO likes wrestling, so her and Full Grown cheer and snicker and snort over wrestling.

• She maintains her artistry as she grows and is quite successful with her art on the occasion. She’s the designer for Dustin’s podcast’s merch, Space Draculas. His podcast focuses on mythological legends, paranormal encounters, and supernatural beings with Todd’s older brother a few friends. Any pics of Reggie I draw wearing an alien with fangs is for this podcast of his.

• She and Judy mend their bonds over the years, and Judy is definitely the Team Mom for all her friends.

• Reggie’s first car is a Volkswagen Beetle that’s got a yellow body, but the hood, front two doors, and trunk are all different colors. The car is littered with car stickers and it has pins all in the roof from the inside, and she’s got worm on the strings tied to the rear view mirror.

• She ends up being a very good babysitter, it’s her job as a teenager, so she winds up being very good with kids.

• She curbs her dirty, messy habits as she grows older, but sometimessss she still gets down and dirty on Endless, she’s got no problems with getting muddy and dirty, covered in paint, sticky with sweat and sand, and she has to be reminded that showers are REQUIRED /more/ than twice a week.

• Full Grown regularly chews her out because she tries to enter the witch’s home with her sandy boots on. That’s like.. a YEARS long habit.

• She winds up being a rather well skilled magic user

Big Deal

• Learns much of his cooking skills from infomercials after Ma’am falls asleep, alongside with tentatively befriending Mack and Beefhouse and learning from them. They reach out to him first, with much grace and forgiveness, one day when he’s searching for recipe ingredients and they end up being well friends to him, and eventually, Ma’am as well. (She’s much more resilient and hesitant to befriend the others after everything and many of them are just as hesitant of her but Reggie growing under her mentorship helps)

• He whacks Reggie in exasperation when she tries to steal food.

• He was made by Endless to protect his Ma’am and be a tiny little plush dragon to her.

• He purrs when he’s comfortable and happy, and so does Full Grown (though she represses it for a very long time). He also trills and chitters and chirps in feral little noises to her and she’ll make noises back.

• he looks smooth and round but he’s made up of really smooth feathers and he’ll puff up and flair out in high emotions or shock.

• He’s SO little and she’s SO big. My Ma’am is around 7’0” and he’s like.. thigh/butt level to her.

• He’s the first being to see her cry after her revival from the volcano, regardless of my AU and how long it takes for her to finally cry, he’s always the first one to see her cry.

• He’s a very enthusiastic learner and absorbs knowledge like a sponge, and he loves listening to his Ma’am talk so he’s willing to sit and listen and learn until he’s falling asleep.

• He does NOT like horror movies. He does not care for wrestling, or hockey, it all makes him cringe and fret so much, but he LOVES fantasy, adventure, romance, and music, so Full Grown introduces him to musicals and romcoms.

• he LOVES entwining his tail with his Ma’am’s tail, which, for a long time, is a very rare thing, but it grows more constant as time passes.

• he’s got little padded pawed hands! Tiny hands with little heart shaped paw pads!

______________

Okay these are all I can think of tonight but I WILL update this as I think of more, or feel free to message again with individual characters!

[djservo]

HI it's that time again end of the month it's warming up it's almost summer how did your may reading go, what's on your list for the summer?

the thread vaguely weaving together may's reads: sex, anger, and neocolonialism

YES the rumors are true YES I slashed my standard (as of the last couple years) reading goal from 50 books to a humble 36 SIGH I have two wolves inside me telling me 1. to commit fully to the bit and 2. to trust my gut/instincts — with enough willpower I could force myself to hunker down and become a lean mean reading machine just to barely scrape by with an even 50 by the end of december for some imaginary accolade/clout/tradition on Amazon-Owned Goodreads Dot Com, or I could #BeReal with myself and accept my reading habits of the past few months as a litmus test of how things have been going + so shall continue to be. I'd rather not turn my goal (and thus reading as a whole) into this looming monster that taunts me ykwim especially when the point is enjoyment so TLDR . we're being Real and Intentional and Downsizing <3 ONTO MAY'S READS, FULL OF HITS BABY!

Bad Behavior by Mary Gaitskill

I was reading this around the time I watched this vintage gay erotica Equation to an Unknown (1980) where one of the reviews succinctly says it's "Erotic ennui" — this kinda perfectly sums up the vibe of this short story collection. sex-tinged dramas, though not melodramatic, not edge-of-your-seat high stakes, but just enough entangled emotional transactions to feel as if you're on the precipice of something only to be left in the cold. I'd been meaning to read Secretary for a while now and somehow didn't connect that this was the short story collection it came from?? kismet! I have a friend who doesn't like watching black-and-white movies or pretty much anything pre-80s because they "look so old" (bless her heart) — often (moreso lately) I feel the inverse of that with movies post 2000s where sometimes everything looks/feels too new and sleek and sometimes the mere sight of a cell phone is enough to turn me off. all this to say, I did try watching Secretary but turned it off after 15 minutes bc it didn't feel right at the moment and I wanted to sit with the tepid yet strangely alluring bubble of the original story a little longer. the last story was my favorite and made me cry lolol

The Essential Dykes to Watch Out For by Alison Bechdel

there's nothing I could say that would do this justice GOD I'm obsessed with this! somehow I've read every Bechdel work Except any of dtwof, but I'm glad I waited to read it in this collective form rather than in bits + pieces. I love all the details and references Bechdel puts into every panel — I swear I must've added like 20 books to my TBR list while reading Fun Home — and how effortlessly the state of US politics gets weaved into the background of their lives in a way that really puts you in that time and place. there's clearly so much love and humor and dedication she has for her community, but I love how she doesn't shy away from community in-fighting and hypocrisies — the desire to live a happy and fulfilled life without being a liberal "sellout" queer, and what that even means depending on who you are etc etc. it's also strangely assuring to read these arguments and discussions amongst the friends and how relevant and fresh it all still feels? like we're still having the same arguments and worrying about the same things decades later and it sucks but there's also this string of consistent humanity threading it together idk we're never alone in our experiences n time is a circle n all that jazz. loved that no character felt wasted or sidelined for the sake of a "greater" plot, loved how even the children and men had their own motives/personalities, SIMPLY LOVED IT ALL + I'M HEARTBROKEN IT'S OVER! </3 (though I read they're doing an audible version soon with a buncha celebs so I'm Intrigued by that)

Dogeaters by Jessica Hagedorn

Magnolia (1999) but for Filipinos!! thrumming with chaos and desperation and anger. Similar to Bad Behavior with its lack of loose ends being tied up nicely at the end. I fear I'm too cynical nowadays to put much weight in "representation" and the corporate intentions that back it, hallmark movie endings with a very glossed-over + white-approved "see? we're just like you!" message. that sentiment is not present here whatsoever, and I adore Jessica Hagedorn for that. unhealthy family dynamics and power structures and the curse that is American colonialism thrusting itself into your very concept of what you want in life. obviously (and unfortunately) Many can connect to that, but this book is so distinctly FIlipino, so specific and dedicated to a Filipino experience, that I can only laugh at negative reviews from (white) people complaining about what an incomprehensible mess it is or how there should've been a glossary to explain certain terms and aspects of Filipino culture, etc etc. I'd like to think it was intentional of Hagedorn to omit a glossary or footnotes or much explanation at all — a big FUCK YOU / THIS ISN'T FOR YOU and I love it. could even argue that that was one of the messages at the core of each of these intertwining stories. I read The Gangster of Love and watched the play in college and was equally floored with its anger at the world, how it kinda spits in your face when you're waiting for conventions or comfort. love love loved this so much, I do not mean it lightly when I say Miss Hagedorn is my hero

+ 2 journal articles

The Bedroom of Things by Caitlin Blanchfield and Farzin Lotfi-Jam — bedroom as theater + the performance of our living spaces as we portray them in images for the spectatorship of others; connecting our interior lives to physical things/commodities as manifestations of the self

The Transnational Ga(y)ze: Constructing the East European Object of Desire in Gay Film and Pornography after the Fall of the Wall by Nicholas F. Radel — pretty much exactly as the title suggests, the effect the fall of the wall/shift away from communism had in gay porn and general (gay) media depictions of East European men. desire constructed through a nationalistic standpoint, the hierarchies of power at play. I watched a few documentaries this month that would pair nicely for a little lecture on sex work + communism in East Europe: The Fall of Communism as Seen in Gay Pornography (1998) dir. William E Jones; Not Angels But Angels (1994) dir. Wiktor Grodecki; Body Without Soul (1996) dir. Wiktor Grodecki

Currently reading Pornotopia by Paul B. Preciado and I'm about to take a trip which will mark my first time traveling with my kindle so I'm excited for that hehe I have a buncha books downloaded but my priority is getting into Dennis Cooper bc I've been meaning to for so long and I feel like several movies I watched this month had been likened to Dennis Cooper vibes in the reviews + I even saw someone on insta reading The Sluts so if that's not all a sign to finally get with it, then IDK what is!