#v.Main

[vee-crytraps]

Masterlist Key: Oneshot 💡| Series 🕯️| Chapters are individually marked for sexual content. Poly

Kiss Me More {Reader/ Dick | Jason | Tim | Damian}🕯️

Good Luck, Babe! {Reader/ Dick | Jason | Tim | Damian}🕯️

Bruce Wayne

The Good Death 🕯️

Roy Harper

Painkiller 💡

Also posting on Ao3! Comments keep me going!

[equalstrength]

cont. @lord-explosion-dynamight 

"that's not it. i've always wanted to paint my nails." he tilts his head to rest his chin against his other palm to watch the blond work. though his eyes didn't linger on their hands as bakugou carefully painted his nails the deep blue he'd picked out. instead, his mismatched eyes traveled up the other's arm, shoulder, then neck before finally landing on bakugou's face. "it's just that we're graduating soon. and i think my father might actually murder me for showing up with blue nails."

[animatronicsouls]

( @tricksteroffate //Later )

“It’s just me,” she reassured. Not paying much mind to his ‘not Will’ comment. She expected him to be extremely wary, and he was still a child. 

After a moment, she slowly opened the door and glanced inside. Once she found him, she entered, closing the door behind her, and went to sit near him. In silence, for a few moments, so he could adjust somewhat at his own pace. It allowed her to think about how she wanted to approach this, too.

“Do you want a hug, dear?” Regardless of anything else, she wanted to ask that first. An offer for comforting contact, if he wanted. If he said ‘no’, she’d respect that, too. 

[soultrcpped]

( @tricksteroffate //Caught red-handed )

William sneered, but otherwise hadn’t immediately answered. He couldn’t, both because he was processing Poltergeist’s response and thinking of his own response. Struggling against the temptation to revel in Poltergeist’s fear.

Clara must’ve sensed it, too, cause he felt her tighten her grip around his arm. Heard her soft “Will...” He grumbled, but didn’t do much else.

Why had he come? What currently remained of his rational mind wasn’t sure he could answer that. Anger and rage came so naturally to him, made him irrational in ways he didn’t realize. Perhaps he cared more for the younger ghost than he thought. Perhaps he related more to him than he realized. 

Perhaps he wanted to stop him from making his same mistakes, the way no one else could when he was alive.

Unable to do much in his current state - not without regrets, anyways - William instead dragged Poltergeist home and pushed him away once they arrived. Rough, yet held back on some level. Like he was thinking - however brief - of tossing Poltergeist instead.

“Don’t do that again.”

[ofstarsfallen]

"Hm..." Being in a completely different world - Eorzea, as it was called - definitely was a unique experience. Not only was he reading up on aether, but also other stuff. Like the various other races, including the duskwight.

He's sure it'll take him a while to read up on everything he can, but he had all the time in the world, now. And it might even give him some insight about his newest pupil that he missed previously, should the stars allow.

[xjinkiesx]

        It was an exercise she had been thinking about for some time. Ever since Harlan Ellison stated there were multiple versions of themselves, Velma had wondered: what had they done? What had they undergone?

        And as she sat awake in the New England night, curtains drawn because you do not look out into the Mist, she put pen to paper.

        Dear-

        Dear who? Not herself. Absolutely not! She had stopped addressing letters like that in Middle School. The act was pedantic at best and embarrassing at worst.

        Tapping the butt of her pen to her lip, her mind wandered. Who from any timeline would she want to write to? Someone smart. Someone... different. Complex. Someone she could really dig into with the questions. Someone who might offer a different point of view.

        She thought of a megalomaniac African Gray parrot. No... he was gone. Dead. Or, at least, destroyed. If he had not been utterly insane, she would have liked to pick his walnut-sized brain.

        If not him, then perhaps someone who might follow in those footsteps? Someone... devoted to an idea. A fantastical idea. Willing to sacrifice. Willing to barter. Someone like Brad Masters... Mayor Jones...

        Before she realized it, a name had appeared on the page, absently written by her own hand:

        Ben Ravencroft.

        “Huh...” She frowned. This was a new name. Sounded fake, too. But maybe that was the point?

        Dear Ben Ravencroft,

        You don’t know me. Or, at least, you don’t know the me that is writing to you. Maybe you know someone else like me. And that, ultimately, is the point.

        My name is Velma Dinkley, and I have it on good authority that you met me at one point. We probably didn’t get along. Or maybe we did for a little. But that doesn’t matter anymore, because that me and this me are different.

        “Yeah, Velm, you don’t sound nuts at all.”

        I’m writing you because of this difference. You see, I’m… interested in the length some people will go to obtain their wants. I have met men who fabricated curses, who sold their souls to Gods. And I want to know… what pushed you to your choice? Whatever choice it was. What made you think it would work? Why this course of action?

        What did you know that the rest of us did not?

                                                                     Kind Regards,

                                                                     Velma Dinkley

                                                                     Miskatonic University

        Velma took a deep breath and sat back in her creaky wooden chair. That felt so weird, and yet it felt very right. This Ben Ravencroft guy was either real in some place, in some time, or at least a very good figment of her imagination. She shook her head and folded the letter before slipping it into a blank envelope. On the front, she jotted the man’s name down before sealing the letter inside with a lick of the adhesive.

        “Now… how does one deliver a letter to someone from a different dimension?” The postal service certainly didn’t take it that far. Looking around her dormitory room, her gaze settled on the box her mom had sent. Inside was a bunch of weird New Age stuff from the store back in Crystal Cove. But it triggered a memory: when she was little, and writing to her imaginary friend. Her mother had lit a candle and helped her set the letter on fire. They put it in a small iron cauldron, and she was told to imagine who she was sending the letter to.

        In hindsight, the letters had been for Marcy. But if Marcy had been real, then maybe this Ben Ravencroft was… and maybe burning her letter would work.

        Tired hands dug through the box. Sure enough, there were candles, a box of matches, and a miniature cauldron. It would have to work.

        She took the good back to her desk and struck a match. It caught easily with the smell of sulfur, and when the flame met the candle, the wick burned tall. In Velma’s other hand, she gripped the letter.

        Now came the hard part: what did this mystery man look like? Anything, probably. But what did someone with a name like that look like? Esoteric. Dark. Probably a bit nerdy if he went by “Ben”. Her cicada-obsessed High School biology teacher came to mind. Whatever his name was. But he seemed enough like a Ben Ravencroft. Certainly, it did not have to be perfect to work.

        Picturing the man, she touched the edge of her envelope to the candle. The flame sputtered, moving about as if to dodge the paper. Her mother might have said this was a sign. But Velma was not going to give up. She did not write this for nothing.

        She shoved the letter in further, forcing the flame to accept. Slowly, the envelope caught, and the flame grew and grew. Before the burning letter could reach her fingers, she set it into the cauldron.

        A cold chill ran up her spine as she watched her letter turn to ash, the name on the front of the envelope burning last. Dread pooled in her stomach. Had she done the right thing? 

        “Too late now,” she muttered, placing the lid atop her cauldron to contain the ashes. When morning came, she would toss them into the garden. Bur, for now, she needed sleep.

[lustforrage]

. . . @goddamndaddies . . . gets a starter !

                    at  first  anya  wasn't  so  sure  that  living  in  the  compound  with  the  rest  of  the  avengers  was  a  good  idea.  she  was  a  far  cry  from  hero  material , but  as  her  parents  had  both  said . . . neither  were  either  of  them . . and  look  at  how  far  her  mother  had  come.  certainly  it  was  time  she  accepted  she  was  anything  but  what  people  thought  she  was.  and  as  it  turned  out . . . staying  at  the  compound  wasn't  a  bad  idea  at  all.  she  liked  it  there.  it  was  just  homey  enough  to  be  comforting , while  still  very  much  a  base  of  operations , something  that  anya  was  plenty  used  to  from  her  days  with  HYDRA.  what  it  also  did  for  her  was  branch  out  the  people  she  knew.  getting  to  know  the  avengers  showed  just  how  different  they  all  were.  she  also  took  notice  of  some  of  them  more  so  than  others.  thor  being  one  of  them.  she'd  taken  a  liking  to  him , and  after  tossing  and  turning  in  hopes  of  finding  sleep . . . she  could  only  think  about  him.  throwing  her  comforter  off  of  her , she  huffed  in  frustration  before  leaving  her  room  to  head  to  thor's.  after  a  couple  knocks , she  watched  the  door  open , and  was  greeted  by  the  god  of  thunder  himself  as  he  opened  the  door.    ❝   i  can't  sleep.   ❞    she  admitted , hardly  giving  even  herself  a  chance  to  finish  speaking  none  the  less  time  for  him  to  answer.

[tealbeats-archived]

Breathing was hard in this moment.

It felt like something spectral pushing into his chest; wrapping around Ezreal’s lungs the more he scrolled on the internet—the feeling wrapping tight and squeezing as it threatened to cut off his airflow. Ezreal’s breathing formed into heavy gasps for air; almost as though he was drowning and trying to expel water from his lungs—but it wasn’t getting better. Why wasn’t it getting better!?

‘If you don’t figure something out, you could lose your career, Ezreal.’

‘Some ‘Pop Star Prince’, huh? Can you even give that title to a One Hit Wonder?’

‘His stuff used to be better…what happened? Talk about a sell out.’

Of course, these were all from before he joined HEARTSTEEL, but he still had a habit of looking at comments or remembering old conversations with producers and managers—mostly to see if there was anything positive, but even some things weren’t…great, in regards to the present.

‘He kind of just fades into the background, doesn’t he?’

‘What’s even the point of him being there…?’

Invasive thoughts swirl into his mind before he shuts his phone off and chucks it at the door; making a large SLAM for anyone near by to hear. Thanks to his phone case though, there was no damage, at least.

Ezreal scrambles to his feet to grab it, swinging the door open, though his chest felt tighter and his knees began to buckle. Man, what if this was it? What if HEARTSTEEL didn’t work and he—and now his friends—lost their careers? Why did he feel like he would just blame himself for that? And lose…all of them? He couldn’t lose all of them.

The walls felt like they were closing in on him and he planted his hand against one, keeping his body close before he succumbed, knees losing way and causing him to collapse; one hand digging into his hair and gripping tightly as he gave out a loud, ear piercing scream from the anxiety that riddled him in the hallway.

[foughtbelief]

@thekeybladehero

"Do you believe that anything can come true, if you just work towards it with a little pixie dust and elbow grease?"

[walkedlegacy-closed]

CLOSED STARTER : GRACIE LINDON ( amaranthblooms )

they had a new probie coming to join the firehouse. there was always an excitement in anya about meeting new firefighters , and when she heard it was another woman firefighter . . . her excitement grew even more.

there wasn't a worry about being replaced , not for anya. she had worked hard to build her reputation , and bobby made it pretty obvious that he didn't run his ship like that. if you stuck around , or were let go , it was based on more than just someone outshined you.

when she heard the sounds of someone walking into the firehouse through the large bay doors , she perked up , smiling when she saw the woman she didn't recognize carrying the ever familiar LAFD duffle bag , and put her own bag down at the locker room , and made her way to meet her.

"morning! you're early!" that was good. bobby was going to like that. he was upstairs cooking breakfast for the team. part of his 24 hour shift traditions. "i'm anya. you're the new paramedic right?"

[deathxcko]

Here you can have a hobie too

are you jason's type? / always accepting!!

"Hello, I don't suppose you'd be interested in making a series of very bad decisions with me and get to know one another?"

[vee-crytraps]

Fic Masterlist | Fanart | Fic Recs

Call me Vee (She/hers)! I write and reblog a lot of Batman/DC things, and a good chunk of them are Not Safe for Tumblr. This may include sexually explicit or dark content, so browser beware! Check out my Masterlist for my TW/CWs. Minors and ageless blogs DNI! I'm 25, and if you're here, you should be at least 18. If you're wondering why I don't follow you, I do! This is a side blog! If you're randomly followed by a thousand year old Homestuck blog with a freaky little green haired icon, tis me. My Lovely Sundews! Lore Anon 🫶 Anon 🫀 Anon

[equalstrength]

cont. @multianime​ 

confusion tugs at his brow as he lets izuku pull him into the empty room. he half expected to see some of their other classmates trying to catch up on studying. or something. was it their turn for cleaning duty? he still doesn’t catch on when midoriya closes the door behind them or even when he steps up to stand in front of shoto. “but you usually don’t seem to mind their questions..” shoto tilts his head, oblivious to the other’s advances. 

he only even begins to suspect the empty room was planned when izuku slides his hands up and around shoto’s neck, the beginnings of a blush starting to warm his chest. “..i....” he glances from the freckled arms embracing him to emerald green eyes. “...do i..?”

[animatronicsouls]

( @tricksteroffate //continue )

While Poltergeist spoke, she stopped to listen. Clara understood where that logic came from. That was why she needed to say something. William wouldn’t - or couldn’t - clear it up himself, so she would. 

“He’s not mad.” She said with full confidence, going back to what she was doing. If he was mad, Clara knew that anger was at himself than it was for anyone else. That he couldn’t control himself. “If anything, he’s scared. Scared that he’ll hurt you. That he’ll relapse.” She took several moments to inspect her handiwork, giving a soft hum in thought. 

[tenarcana]

"Bloody hells." he grumbles as his eyes catch absently on the odd little... person? ( perhaps that was a touch RUDE. they obviously seem sentient, but then again, a lot of things could be, in his experience. ) "What're ye doin' out 'ere by yersel'? I don' t'ink ye should be alone... too dang'rous, aye?"

@chaosmicjelly starter call

[oozeyboozey-archive]

❝ i'm not gonna say anything t'mom . . or your day . . but how exactly did you manage that? ❞

▬ 𝚂𝙷𝙾𝚁𝚃 𝚂𝚃𝙰𝚁𝚃𝙴𝚁 : @redheadarcher .