#yeah. but do i care? not in the slightest

[sacrificialdaughterr]

i love the way you write abby omg 💌 may i request fluffy smut w/ abby?

a/n | thank you so much!!<3 she is the baby girliest of them all i'm glad im doing her justice lol (also sorry this took so long my motivation to do anything is crazy rn) ((also also! sorry if this sucked smut is Not my strong suit))

tags | abby x reader, fluff, smut, r!receiving, fingering, body worship, abby takes her sweet time (aka i yap so much)

The warmth that encapsulated you felt almost otherworldly, like something meticulously picked from the magical depths of a fairytale, bestowed upon you with the utmost care. Beneath you, bedsheets crinkled with the impact of your body- the same body wracked with goosebumps that prickled along the surface of your skin, a shiver running down your spine in the wake of every single kiss pressed tenderly against the crook of your neck by the girl that lay behind you.

The unmistakable sound of an inhale graced your hearing, a soft groan following suit as Abby soaked in the addictiveness of your scent; body wash and perfume mixing in a way that had her seeing stars behind the blackness of her closed eyelids; a string of constellations that morphed into you, showcasing all the little imperfections of yourself she was absolutely obsessed with, wanted to worship on her hands and knees as if you were her god.

"Fuck..” She all but whimpered in your ear, voice muffled against your skin as she refused to pull away. Her strong arms tightened around you almost protectively as she pulled you closer, bodies puzzling together as if you were made for each other. “You smell so good, angel.. What is that?”

“Peach..” You mumbled dumbly in response, brain already filled with a fuzziness that made it hard to form a single coherent thought, let alone string together a response to Abby's soft-spoken words.

Abby chuckled lowly, and you felt her smile against you; lips curling into something of satisfaction, cockiness igniting her ego until it was a raging wildfire that burned with untameable force. "Gotta give me more than that, silly girl.." She drawled, the twang to her voice sending a ripple of feelings throughout your body, all finding a home deep within your core. "Gotta know what it's called so I can go out and buy you the whole stock. Need my girl smellin' like this always.." She finished with another deep inhale, another expletive tumbling carelessly from her lips.

You merely whined in response, body pressing back into hers as you searched for something to cure the insatiable need you held inside of you- one that had you almost possessed, hypnotized by your own longing to feel Abby everywhere. "Abs.." You mumbled, impatience etched in your tone as you fought off the urge to put your own hands to good use and take care of your need yourself.

"I know.. So impatient, huh?" She took the time to tease, tone laced with her usual sarcasm you didn't know whether you hated or loved. She palmed at your body as she spoke, calloused work hands groping at the plushness of your skin with something that bordered on the line of a crazed state of obsession. Tugging at your hips, she pulled you back into her; ass connected to pelvis as her right hand disappeared under the fabric of your shirt- her shirt, the loose fabric framing your body just right that made it your preferred choice of sleepwear. "Just lemme make you feel good, yeah? Gotta make you feel good, princess.."

Your breath hitched when the warmth of her hand brushed against your nipple, chest dipping in on itself as the pad of her thumb circled softly against the pebbled bud. Shallow huffs of air caught in your throat each time you inhaled, exhaling as uneven gasps you almost had to physically force out. You trembled, always overwhelmed by Abby's touch in a way that was almost detrimental to yourself; crumbling like an ancient building at the slightest brush of her fingers, sometimes at an accidental bump of her shoulder against yours.

Of course, Abby noticed how you trembled against her. How could she miss it? She had grown so accustomed to it, she almost looked for it. "You're shakin', baby," She cooed, warm breath caressing the shell of your ear with a tenderness that added fuel to the fire that burned within you.

"Touch me.." You breathed out, voice downright pathetic. You couldn't help but beg for her, intoxicated by the feeling of her merely caressing your breast that you needed more, craved it as much as you craved the oxygen you breathed.

She hummed softly, almost as if she were going over the pros and cons of your words in her head, her hand mindlessly brushing down your stomach, fingers dancing across your skin as if you were the pages Abby carefully thumbed through of one of her beloved books. Sliding her hand between your thighs, she tenderly spread you apart; knee bent, foot pressed against the side of your opposite knee, never once leaving the snuggly position you had been in for almost the entire night; your back to Abby's chest.

"You're soaked, baby.." She quipped the moment her fingers brushed against the fabric of your panties, the essence of your arousal sticking to the pads of her middle and ring. She nuzzled her nose into the soft strands of hair by your ear, words purring against you, sending a brand new wave of shivers down your spine. "Need me that bad?"

You hummed a soft, "mhm.." in response- the only response you seemed to be capable of giving, your mind like the static that buzzed black and white on an old tv screen. Your hips gravitated toward her touch, pressing yourself into the featherlight pads of her fingers that merely ghosted your clothed clit. "Please-" You choked out, words caught beneath the lump that formed in your throat- a lump packed with everything you wanted to beg and plead for, but couldn't, too wrapped up in finding the perfect words that would weaken Abby's teasing facade, that they all seemed useless.

"Shh.. I know, angel," She cooed softly, attempting to soothe the soft, almost broken-hearted whimper that slipped from your lips when she pulled away. No longer intertwined as if you were one, after tugging you onto your back, Abby found home between your legs; bending them each at the knee. Her burly, hardworking frame loomed over you almost intimidatingly. If you didn't know Abby, didn't truly know who she was beneath the shell of her earthly body, you would have felt as such; intimidated by the woman who gazed down at you with eyes that personified a raging sea of blue.

She ran the flat of her hands along the length of your thighs; languid movements that proved successful in calming your muscles that tensed with anticipation- if only slightly. Her attention never left you, irises flickering across the expanse of your flushed face, a soft smirk pulling at the corner of her rosy lips as she proudly admired what she could do to you, almost without doing a single thing. "Look so pretty like this, baby," She murmured as her hands stilled, fingers hooking under the elastic of your underwear.

With a simple, affirming nod of your head, she carefully slid them down the entirety of your legs, almost sacred in her movements to undress you. She handled you with the utmost delicacy- your underwear, too, folding them and setting them neatly on the bedside table as if the inanimate piece of cloth held some sort of lifeform.

Hands pressing into the plush mattress by each side of your head, Abby peppered kisses along your cheeks, revelling in the soft squeaks emitted from your tranquil form. "Abs.." You drew out the first syllable almost to the point of incoherency, voice barely audible as you reached up to hug your arms around her neck, blinking up at her with pleading eyes. "I need you."

Nudging her arched nose against yours, she hummed lowly, the simplicity of her tone highlighted by the smugness that naturally lived within her. She hooked her thumb and forefinger around your chin, free hand dipping between your legs, the pad of her thumb finding and circling your clit in slow, even circles as she spoke. "Gonna stretch you out, baby.. Yeah? Wanna feel this pretty pussy wrapped around my fingers."

Abby's fingers prodded at your entrance with no further warning, her eyes locked on your features as if you were simply a figment of her imagination, something that could melt into thin air if she looked away for even a single moment. Your hands wrapped around her broad shoulders when her middle finger pressed into you, nails digging into the skin exposed by her sleeveless shirt, leaving crescent-like indents among the freckles. "Fuck.." You whimpered, eyebrows creased together as her thickset finger dragged against your gummy walls, settling for a moment to get you used to the way she felt inside of you, before her ring finger followed suit, curling into you at a relaxed pace.

"Greedy pussy's suckin' me right in.." You couldn't help but blush profusely at her words, tugging her closer to bury your face in the crook of her neck, shying away from her consuming gaze despite her being knuckle deep inside you, moulding you to the curve of her fingers as if you were designed specifically for her. "Nuh-uh, pretty. Look at me.. Look at me while I fuck you," She groaned the minute your eyes left hers, hold tightening around your chin as she tugged your pretty face back into view.

Your arousal glistened against her fingers, pussy drooling down the length of her digits as they disappeared inside you, pace only quickening as she grew hungry for the way your irises disappeared into your skull when she had you like this. She nudged at the sweet spot inside of you every time she curled her fingers, wanton moans spewing from your parted lips as something tightened inside you like a spool of thread tangled within your abdomen- it was only a matter of time before it came undone, you right along with it.

"Ab-Abby.." You all but cried, tears lining along your waterline at the sheer blissfulness that surrounded you in a fuzzy cloud of pure ecstasy.

"I know, baby. I know. You look so pretty like this. You gonna cum? Gonna cum for me?" Abby rambled, almost as if she were trying to verbalize the entirety of her thoughts in that moment, whisper sweet nothings as you fell apart on her fingers.

You nodded; head bobbing up and down as if you were weighted down by an invisible force, not in control of your own movements as your hips rocked in time with Abby's fingers. Your insides throbbed as she rolled your clit beneath her thumb, clenching around her fingers as your gaze once again locked on hers, your arousal heightened by the downright animalistic obsession that sparkled within the whites of her eyes. "'M gonna cum.."

Wasn't that obvious?

"Nice and easy, baby. That's it.." She drawled, fingers scissoring into you as she worked you through the orgasm that rippled throughout your body with a suddenness that had you crying out, back arching off the mattress as your thighs trembled in oversensitivity.

Your body fell slack against the bed, a thin sheen of sweat blanketing your skin as your chest heaved, breath shallow as you, with your arms still wrapped around Abby's shoulders, clung to her as if your very life depended on it. Her fingers dragged lazily through your soaked folds, merely playing with your slick as she pressed kiss after kiss against your temple, stray hairs clinging to your flushed skin.

A beat of silence fell over the bedroom, the only audible sound being the oxygen that filled your lungs unevenly.

"Can you give me another, angel?" She broke the silence with a soft murmur, her tone almost coaxing you into letting her fill you up once more, addicted to how you stretch around her fingers.

"..Yeah."

[bloomries]

yeah so my husband— my husband?!

includes : (the demon brothers) lucifer, mammon, leviathan, satan, asmodeus, beelzebub, belphegor.

summary : calling him your "husband" (even though you two aren't married yet) to see his reaction.

warnings : gn! reader. fluff. mention of marriage. suggestive (in asmodeus'). the word 'husband' will begin to look strange bc it's used so much, apologies.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Lucifer

You just meant for it to be a harmless little prank, something to tease Lucifer with later when you two were alone, perhaps gauge his reaction to the idea, but after you said 'yeah, so my husband...' Diavolo's eyes grew as wide as the moon and you instantly regretted your prank idea.

Diavolo clasped a hand on Lucifer's shoulder, beaming. "You finally asked!" This statement went over your head as you tried to quickly take back your words, Lucifer's blanched face making it clear he'll definitely be scolding you later. "But it seems I missed the wedding? Oh well, I'll just host you another wedding so I can see it for myself!"

"Ah, L- Lord Diavolo..." Lucifer sends you a glare as you smile sheepishly. "We aren't- I haven't-"

"How do you both feel about a chocolate fountain?" Diavolo is already off in his own little world, imagining how he'll plan out your wedding. Lucifer decides he'll inform Barbatos of the prank, and have Barbatos deal with it- Lucifer already has his hands full with you. He pulls you aside as Diavolo talks to himself.

"Do you see what you've done?"

"Sorry..." You fake pout, batting your lashes up at him. "My darling husband will surely fix it though, right?" Oh, how can he stay mad when he truly likes the title so much. Perhaps this will make asking you to marry him easier? You surely seem to enjoy the title just as much.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Mammon

Mammon is always trying to listen in on your phone calls, he's nosy and likes to know all the gossip. Today in particular though, he's trying extra hard to hear, clinging to you and making you unable to do other tasks whilst on your call.

Deciding to tease him a little, in hopes of getting him off of you, you sigh dramatically into the receiver. "I'm sorry, my husband needs my attention, one second."

And when you look down at him, his eyes are wide and shiny, a blush quickly forming on his cheeks. Him? Were you talking about him? He's your husband? A giant grin takes over his features and it seems your little prank has the opposite effect you wanted, as he takes the phone from you.

"Yeah, sorry, their husband- that's me!- needs 'em!" He boasts proudly before hanging up the call and clutching on to you tighter, burying his face into your side, his grin not changing in the slightest.

You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. "Rude, I was trying to talk to someone, you know." Mammon shrugs, not a care in the world.

"'m your husband, I take priority."

"You know you're not officially my husband yet, right?" Shit, you're right. Well, that'll change soon, don't you worry one bit! Mammon knows how to take a hint, and there'll be a ring on that finger soon enough!

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Leviathan

You and Levi were playing an online game, chat on full blast, when you decide to tease him- because it's just so fun to see his flustered expression, and you have an inkling that this'll give him some motivation for the game. "Ah, hubby, can you help me with these guys!"

"H- Hubby!?" Leviathan's neck nearly breaks from how quickly he snaps to look over at you, you seem unphased though by the phrase- as if it came so naturally. His heart skips a beat, his grip on the controller tightening. "W- Where are you, I'll come help!"

His gaming friends are all blowing up the chat box, some getting on voice chat just to ask what that meant- 'was Levi actually married?,' 'He was a husband?,' 'Since when!?,' 'Congratulations!,' etc.

Levi would have gotten more flustered, had he been paying any attention to said friends, but he's much more focused on proving he'd make an excellent spouse by rushing to where you were in the map and one-shotting all the enemies that surrounded you.

The battle is quickly won thanks to Levi, who puffs out his chest with pride. You lean over from your gaming station adjacent of his, and press a kiss to his cheek. "Thank you, hubby~" His cheeks grow a rosy pink, and he pulls his headphones off to give you a serious look.

"Let's get married."

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Satan

"Oh husband~" You call, "Can you help me get this book? I can't reach!" Satan peaks his head from around the corner to give you a questioning look. Who were you calling husband? He watches you struggle, leaning his frame against the door with his arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't remember proposing." Satan watches as you deflates from his lack of reaction to your prank. He sighs, walking over to you and helping you reach the book, tapping it on your head lightly before handing it over to you.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

Satan has a feeling this was definitely set up by one of his brothers, and he'll definitely be getting his revenge on them for making you do this (and for making his heart hammer against his ribcage uncontrollably). Still, he hates to see you upset in the least, so he lifts your chin with his finger and thumb and sends you that smile that sends shivers down your spine.

"Don't be upset, you'll get to call me husband soon, okay?"

And he truly did mean that, he already had a ring, which sat heavy in his pocket. He just wanted to make sure you had the most perfect proposal, something straight out of a romance novel- because that's what you deserve. Soon, soon you'll be able to lovingly call him 'husband' whenever you wish.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Asmodeus

Asmo is live-streaming again, doing a little grwm-type video, with you off to the side/in the background. As he begins to do his skin care, he asks for you to take over and chat for a little while for him, so you peak your head into view and wave at his viewers.

"Hello everyone!" You smile, glancing back at Asmo who's behind you in the bathroom, doing his skincare. "My lovely husband is doing his skincare right now, it usually takes him about ten to fifteen minutes to complete it." You say, however you can see his head pop-up from the sink and he whips around to look at you.

"Husband?" He calls, and when you nod, confirming your words, he grins. "Oh my, is this a proposal?" He asks with a teasing lilt, and you joking go along with his words, nodding before reenacting the famous getting-down-on-one-knee. You open your hands as if you had a ring box, presenting it to him. He holds his hand out to you, "I do~" You pretend to slip a ring on to his finger and he admires the imaginary ring before leaning down to kiss you.

"Now," He pulls away, wiggling his brows. "Shall we get started on the honeymoon part?"

"Asmo, that's typically after the weddi-" Asmo reaches for his phone, waving and saying a little 'byeeee' to his followers as he ends the livestream with a giggle, throwing you a lil' mischievous smile.

"No harm in starting earlier, right?" And despite only being halfway through his skincare, and this not being a real proposal, the honeymoon was very nice indeed- he can't wait for the real one though.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Beelzebub

You had seen the trend, and wondered how Beelzebub would react. So, under the guise of trying some new food and giving it a review, you set up your camera and begin filming. "Hey everyone, me and my husband are going to be rating food from the new McDevil menu~"

Beel doesn't react at all, and you send him a quick glance before trying again- perhaps he didn't hear you? "I think the Sin-Fries are a solid 7/10, what about you, husband?" But again, he doesn't react to the word at all, instead giving his own rating for the new fries.

Is he really not realizing what you're saying? You decide to try one last time. "My husbands food always looks better than mine," You whine, peaking over at him to see his reaction, only to see him offering you a bite of his burger. You sigh, giving up and deciding to just enjoy your food. You take a bite of his burger, offering him some of yours. The review ends swiftly, and you turn off the camera.

As you two clean up from eating, you notice Beelzebub quieter than usual. You're about to ask him if everything is okay, his face becoming flushed, when he speaks up.

"Soon, okay?" You blink a few times, confused by his words. He bashfully looks up at you, and that's when you realize what he's talking about- marriage, he plans on proposing to you soon. Your own cheeks now grow unbearably warm. "I promise."

Your prank definitely backfired, as now you're the one trying to calm your racing heart (although Beelzebub is definitely just as flustered). Still, you're holding him accountable to his promise- soon.

꒰ ✿ ꒱ ───  Belphegor

You're not sure how this little prank managed to get turned against you, but Belphegor has made it so that you're now his personal pillow- again.

"I'm just saying, if I'm you're husband, then that means you should let me use you as a pillow whenever I want." You open your mouth to retaliate, but he beats you to it, batting his lashes up at you. "Don't you want your husband to be comfortable?"

"I..." You falter. You regret deciding to call him your 'husband~' to try and get him to help you with chores. You thought maybe it'd motivate him, or maybe you'd just get to see his cute blushing face, instead you're suffering.

"Come on now, don't be shy~" He wiggles about, trying to grab you to pull you towards him, but he doesn't really exert enough energy to be successful. "Ugh, why... do you... do this... to me- to your darling husband!"

"You're anything but darling." You say, crossing your arms over your chest. "Last time I call you 'husband' or any term of endearment, I swear..." You grumble, turning on your heels to leave, disappointed your prank didn't work.

Belphegor grins, snuggling up to his pillow as he watches you leave. "That's what you think," he mumbles to himself, yawning, "when I finally get that ring on your finger, I'll have ya calling me husband again, just you wait~" He snickers, and a cold chill runs down your spine. You glance back to see him asleep, although you feel as if he's planning something- and you weren't sticking around to find out what!

[aniniyah]

a/n: yeah uh i'm so sorry 😀 i wrote this in 10 mins again i was definitely in my feelings

warnings: pure angst, hurt no comfort, chapter 236 spoilers, mention of death, not proofread

Imagine having feelings for Gojo. The strongest, the untouchable. The most handsome man you've ever seen with his soft, white hair that glistens in the sun and glows in the moonlight. His Six Eyes always glowing the color of the most beautiful ocean you've ever seen, otherworldly and out of reach.

It isn't easy seeing an absolute God in a mere man so close to you but so far. How do you compare to a man that is just absolute perfection?

You've had these feelings for Gojo since highschool, always too scared to tell the tall man how you feel because how could you? When you could see the many women and men who approach him like he's theirs, when he responds with a sweet, sickly smile and flirts with them like it was the best thing that happened to him that day.

You want the ground to swallow you whole whenever you see these interactions. Especially when the latest one was a the newest beautiful sorcerer transferred to Jujutsu High who attached herself to Gojo's side like a leach and Gojo just allows it, even giving the slightest faint touches to her increasingly exposed skin with every meeting they had.

It's like the tears come so easy, walls that you so desperately try to build up stronger and stronger each time just crumbles like it was made out of paper. The pain in your chest gets deeper and deeper each day until it feels like a knife is stabbing your heart directly.

But you go on with your day, fake smiles and fake laughter as Gojo comes up to you so easily with this wide grin while wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He was so cruel, unfair, but how can you blame him when he doesn't even have a single clue on how you think about him everyday like a lover?

Then what happens when Gojo does reciprocate those feelings? When he thinks of you the same way. Six Eyes always on you wherever you are on school grounds to keep you safe, silently changing your schedule to take the missions he thinks will endanger you.

But he was selfish? Or selfless? He keeps his distance, he doesn't think he deserved you. You were pure, beautifully made by the heavens, a kind of happiness he didn't think the Gods allowed him to have.

So when you get a heartfelt letter with a velvet box shortly after his death, a confession of love and care that was carefully brewing for decades now spilling onto your hands as your wide eyes shakily takes in the words he was telling you. You decide that love truly was the most twisted curse of them all.

[ghoulish-art-tendencies]

whatever

[starry-bi-sky]

i need to get this out of my head before i continue clone^2 but danny being the first batkid. Like, standard procedure stuff: his parents and sister die, danny ends up with Vlad Masters. He drags him along to stereotypical galas and stuff; Danny is not having a good time.

He ends up going to one of the Wayne Galas being hosted ever since elusive Bruce Wayne has returned to Gotham. Vlad is crowing about having this opportunity as he's been wanting to sink his claws into the company for a long while now. Danny is too busy grieving to care what he wants.

And like most Galas, once Vlad is done showing him off to the other socialites and the like, he disappears. Off to a dark corner, or to one of the many balconies; doesn't matter. There he runs into said star of the show, Bruce who is still young, has been Batman for at least a year at this point, but still getting used to all these damn people and socializing. He's stepped off to hide for a few minutes before stepping back into the shark tank.

And he runs into a kid with circles under his eyes and a dull gleam in them. Familiar, like looking into a mirror.

Danny tries to excuse himself, he hasn't stopped crying since his parents died and it's been months. He rubs his eyes and stands up, and stumbles over a half-hearted apology to Mister Wayne. Some of Vlad's etiquette lessons kicking in.

Bruce is awkward, but he softens. "That's alright, lad," he says, pulling up some of that Brucie Wayne confidence, "I was just coming out here to get some fresh air."

There's a little pressing; Bruce asks who he's here with, Danny says, voice quiet and grief-stricken, that he's with his godfather Vlad Masters. Bruce asks him if he knows where he is, and Danny tells him he does. Bruce offers to leave, Danny tells him to do whatever he wants.

It ends with Bruce staying, standing off to the side with Danny in silence. Neither of them say a word, and Danny eventually leaves first in that same silence.

Bruce looks into Vlad Masters after everything is over, his interest piqued. He finds news about him taking in Danny Fenton: he looks into Danny Fenton. He finds news articles about his parents' deaths, their occupations, everything he can get his hands on.

At the next gala, he sees Danny again. And he looks the same as ever: quiet like a ghost, just as pale, and full of grief. Bruce sits in silence with him again for nearly ten minutes before he strikes a conversation.

"Do you like to do anything?"

Nothing. Just silence.

Bruce isn't quite sure what to do: comfort is not his forte, and Danny doesn't know him. He's smart enough to know that. So he starts talking about other things; anything he can think of that Brucie Wayne might say, that also wasn't inappropriate for a kid to hear.

Danny says nothing the entire time, and is again the first to leave.

Bruce watches from a distance as he intercts with Vlad Masters; how Vlad Masters interacts with him. He doesn't like what he sees: Vlad Masters keeps a hand on Danny's shoulder like one would hold onto the collar of a dog. He parades him around like a trophy he won.

And there are moments, when someone gets too close or when someone tries to shake Danny's hand, of deep possessiveness that flints over Vlad Masters' eyes. Like a dragon guarding a horde.

He plays the act of doting godfather well: but Bruce knows a liar when he sees one. Like recognizes like.

Danny is dull-eyed and blank faced the entire time; he looks miserable.

So Bruce tries to host more parties; if only so that he can talk to Danny alone. Vlad seems all too happy to attend, toting Danny along like a ribbon, and on the dot every hour, Danny slips away to somewhere to hide. Bruce appears twenty minutes later.

"I was looking into your godfather's company," he says one night, trying to think of more things to say. Some nights all they do is sit in silence. "Some of my shareholders were thinking of partnering up--"

"Don't."

He stops. Danny hardly says a word to him, he doesn't even look at him -- he's sitting on the ground, his head in his knees. Like he's trying to hide from the world. But he's looking, blue eyes piercing up at Bruce.

Bruce tilts his head, practiced puppy-like. "Pardon?"

"Don't." Danny says, strongly. "Don't make any deals with Vlad."

It's the most words Danny's spoken to him, and there's a look in his eyes like a candle finding its spark. Something hard. Bruce presses further, "And why is that?"

The spark flutters, and flushes out. Danny blinks like he's coming out of a trance, and slumps back into himself. "Just don't."

Bruce stares at him, thoughtful, before looking away. "Alright. I won't."

And they fall back into silence.

Danny, when he leaves, turns to look at Bruce, "I mean it." He says; soft like he's telling a secret, "Don't make any deals with him. Don't be alone with him. Don't work with him."

He's scampered away before Bruce can question him further.

(He never planned on working with Vlad Masters and his company; he's done his research. He's seen the misfortune. But nothing ever leads back to him. There's no evidence of anything. But Danny knows something.)

At their next meeting, Danny starts the conversation. It's new, and it's welcomed. He says, cutting through their five minute quiet, that he likes stars. And he doesn't like that he can't see them in Gotham.

Bruce hums in interest, and Danny continues talking. It's as if floodgates had been opened, and as Bruce takes a sip of his wine, it tastes like victory.

("Tucker told me once--") ("Tucker?") ("Oh-- uh, one of my best friends. He's a tech geek. We haven't talked in a while.")

(Danny shut down in his grief -- his friends are worried, but can't reach him. When he goes back to the manor with Vlad, he fishes out his phone and sends them a message.)

(They are ecstatic to hear from him.)

It all culminates until one day, when Danny is leaving to go back inside, that Bruce speaks up. "You know," He says, leaning against the railing. "The manor has many rooms; plenty of space for a guest."

The implication there, hidden between the lines. And Danny is smart, he looks at Bruce with a sharp glean in his eyes, and he nods. "Good to know."

The next time they see each other, Danny has something in his hands. "Can you hold onto something for me?" He asks.

When Bruce agrees, Danny places a pearl into his palm. or, at least, it's something that looks like a pearl. Because it's cold to the touch; sinking into Bruce's white silk gloves with ease and shimmering like an opal. It moves a little as it settles into his hand, and the moves like its full of liquid.

Bruce has never seen anything like it before, but he does know this; it's not human. "What is it?" He asks, and Danny looks uncomfortable.

"I can't tell you that." He says, shifting on his foot like he's scared of someone seeing it. "But please be careful with it. Treat it like it's extremely fragile."

When Bruce gets home, he puts it in an empty ring box and hides the box in the cave. He tries researching into what it is. he can't find anything concrete.

Everything comes to a head one day when Danny appears at the manor's doorstep one evening, soaking wet in the rain, and bleeding from the side.

[whumblr]

Duct tape

Finally finished! Just don't have a cool title but whatev, this covers it.

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

“I bumped into your neighbour this morning and he looked like death warmed up – bit like you do now,” Zayne pointed at Jay, “only more sniffly and red-nosed – and he looked like he couldn’t wait to have an early night. So I thought, well, that kinda puts a damper on things, doesn’t it.”

Jay followed him pacing about, not liking one bit where this was going. Especially since he was hiding something behind his back.

“Because I had plans for tonight,” Zayne continued, “And I don’t want to drag him out of bed to come up here and see what kind of bondage evening we’re engaged in.”

Not liking this one bit!

He finally got both hands from behind his back to reveal a roll of duct tape.

“So I got us precaution.”

“I’ve got some very nice speakers that can easily drown out any screams,” Jay tried, gesturing at the speaker towers and feeling his life going down the drain for even making such a suggestion.

“No, Jay, come on, the man’s sick, you can’t boombox him out of bed like that. No, this should do fine.”

“Since when do you possess empathy? You’d totally blast me out of bed like that.”

“Don’t make this anymore kinky, now.”

Zayne snapped forward and by backing away, Jay effectively helped in his own tackle. He stumbled back where Zayne’s leg was waiting to give him that nudge and he lost balance. Two fists in his shirt pushed his world upside down and, just before he smacked down, held him up inches above the floor to lessen the blow.

Out of concern for the wrong person.

Zayne grinned down on him, and then abruptly dropped him.

The soft drop flat on his back still forced out the breath he’d been holding.

“Now be a good, considerate neighbour and let the man have his peace.”

“Let me have my pea—” Jay started, but Zayne dropped on top of him, punching out the remnants of that sentence in an oof!.

He flinched at the sound duct tape being unrolled and watched as Zayne cut a piece with his teeth and tore it off.

Zayne held it out in both hands and inched closer down to Jay with a smile that would make serial killers bristle with envy.

“No no no wait!” He stretched out his hands, resting one against Zayne’s shoulder to keep him at bay. This felt like being restrained. His one defence mechanism taken away. Not so much a physical defence. Heck, tie his hands and it wouldn’t make much of a difference, not like he can fight Zayne off or try to stop it. But his voice taken away, his only means to make it stop through begging, the one thing that would at least make him pretend he didn’t just take what was doled out, his one means of fighting back. No.

“Don’t make me tape up your hands as well.”

Jay abruptly pulled his hands back.

The constant whispered stream of “nononono”s turned to an indignant hum and Zayne forced the single strip over his mouth.

“Oh, yes,” Zayne crooned. He held Jay’s face gently in his hands, cupping his cheeks and swirling both thumbs over the duct tape, smoothing the wrinkles out and pressing it into his skin. “This really brings out your eyes.”

The fear in his eyes, most likely.

Because what on earth did Zayne have in mind that he had to tape his mouth shut, what on earth was he planning that would hurt so fucking much that he would scream until his neighbour would call the alarm number?! What on—

His mind screeched to a halt when Zayne pulled his knife from his pocket.

And Jay found himself conflicted. He felt his body relax, because usually he could handle the knife. He could hold back on his screams when Zayne was carving him up, as he was forced to hold back and not cut too deep. Then again, if he was going for the same old, then why did he—

He tensed up when Zayne reached into the pocket of his leather jacket. Eyes went wide and he whimpered high in his throat as he watched Zayne pull out a lighter.

“You did well with the electricity. Time to level up to see how you handle the heat.” He flicked the lighter open, eyes fixed on Jay’s.

Jay wanted to fully tell him how he would handle the heat: not well. He wanted to scream and explain in full detail how not well he would handle this so there’d be no need to actively test it out. He already had the answer! But all that left his throat were panicky moans and distressed groans.

And going by the eager look in Zayne’s eyes – and his preparations – he knew exactly how not well this was going to go. But still, he was eager to see if Jay could prove him wrong.

“Unbutton your shirt.”

For a split-second Jay was glad for the duct tape, because he was sure his lips would have trembled at this.

Shaky fingers moved down and Jay nudged up on his elbows, glancing up at Zayne for permission, to pull his button-up away from under him. He’d rather it didn’t get caught in a fire. For… more reasons than one; reasons that wouldn’t just make Zayne roll his eyes.

He reached down to pull out his tee, but a hand on his chest encouraged him back down and Zayne settled back over him.

He protested when the knife cut into his collar and slowly carved its way down, cutting the shirt open – carelessly nicking a bit of skin on his stomach – and he let the cotton fall to the side to expose Jay’s bare torso.

“Shh, you got tons of white t-shirts. Besides, this one will be ruined anyway, with blood and cuts. And maybe…”

Jay drew up in panic as the lighter flicked on with a soft tchk, backing down again when Zayne brought the little flame closer to his face. Then, with a soft hum, he lowered it to Jay’s abdomen and held it to the tattered fabric of his t-shirt.

Jay whimpered hard as the fabric caught in the flame. He flailed and moved to put it out, but Zayne caught his hands.

“Ah-ah,” he chastised, and watched Jay squirm, felt his hips buck against his knees, when the growing flame started nipping at his body.

Before it could grow to an uncontrollable size, Zayne squashed the flame out.

“Scary, hm?”

He scooted up a little, catching Jay’s waist in-between his knees.

“Don’t worry,” he crooned, “I’m not turning this into an open fire hazard.” And he raised the lighter, holding it under the blade.

Jay’s eyes went wide and he flinched at the little tchk and the little flame that popped up. He couldn’t keep his eyes off it, watching as Zayne held his knife above the flame. Zayne watched the flame with equal fascination, now slowly swirling the blade directly into the flame. His eyes snapped to Jay’s, catching every bit of fear as he turned the blade over.

He snuffed the little fire out and put the lighter back in his pocket. His now free hand rested over Jay’s wrist, pressing it painfully against the wooden floor.

Jay’s stomach tensed as the fiery blade teased down over his chest, u-turned under his belly button and moved back up over his abdomen. A path of uncomfortable, foreboding heat tingled over his skin, until Zayne held the knife over the side of his ribcage.

“No…” he tried. But with his lips firmly stuck together, he only managed to keep a distressed moan stuck in his mouth. The meaning was clear though and he hummed his protests, shaking his head.

The hand on his wrist tightened, knees settled firmly against his waist, ready for Jay to fly up.

And he pressed the flat of the blade abruptly over two ribs.

Jay howled. Best he could. His back arched and his body shot up, a full on somatic reflex to get away from the burning pain.

The hand on his wrist shot to his chest and Zayne leaned his full weight on him to keep him down. Jay took advantage and tried to claw at Zayne’s arm, to get him to back off. But Zayne didn’t let up; he blocked the flailing with his shoulder and used his full strength to keep Jay from fighting too hard and to keep the blade firmly against his skin.

His body writhed against Zayne’s legs, feet scrambling and attempting to kick off from under Zayne, a desperate attempt to squirm away. Panicked eyes shot to his ribcage.

His skin seared, it fucking sizzled. Pain burned through him, heat spread through his skin as if it too was trying to escape from under the blade, burning everything in its path.

Then after what felt like an eternity – but was more likely not longer than ten seconds –  Zayne ripped the blade away.

Jay’s shoulders fell back against the floor, his hands fell away from Zayne. Pain still lingered and crackled under the reddened skin, as if wanting to burst free. He breathed hard through his nose, taking long deep drags, unsuccessful in getting all his air back.

Luckily, Zayne gave him a small break to catch his breath. He let his palm hover over the burn. “Ooh, that’s hot. Like you absorbed all the heat.” He then let his fingers brush near the blade and hummed. “Well, not all of it. Once more.”

A groan of protest rose to something that would’ve been a screech if Jay’d been able to scream as the blade pressed over a new rib.

“Ah, see, that definitely would have woken someone up,” Zayne said with a wicked smile.

Well, now that he didn’t have to hold back anyway, Jay didn’t see any reason to not voice his pain. He squeezed his eyes shut against the biting pain. He twisted his body, trying to get away, but Zayne held him firmly in one place, caught a flailing hand and pinned painfully it under his knee.

“Careful, careful,” he muttered absentmindedly, as he pulled the knife away again.

Jay fell back, chest heaving, trying to catch his breath. He felt like he was nearing a limit, his body languid and slow as it burned through all adrenaline. But Zayne wasn’t finished yet. And the throbbing, searing pain turned sharp.

A hot line rested over his shoulder, and suddenly the heat pressed into his skin.

The knife slid deep with ease; fire followed every micro-inch along the way. The blade probably wasn’t as hot as before, but against the sensitive open cut, every bit was too much.

Jay frantically shook his head. He tried to beg, but his sounds for “Please!” and “No!” all sounded alike, all mingling into the same distressed pained cries.

At this point, even without the duct tape and with him full on begging, he doubted that Zayne would stop. Going by that inquisitive hum and the glint in his eyes, Zayne wasn’t done yet.

Skin parted easily, again and again, deeper than usual. Zayne now probably also figured out that he wouldn’t have to hold back as usual with the tape muffling Jay’s screams. Or maybe that had been the point of all this? Maybe he hadn’t felt like holding back tonight.

Only after several hot cuts were carved into his chest, his shoulder, ripped through the sleeve of his shirt down his arm, until the blade lost most of its fiery touch, did Zayne finally sit back.

Blood seeped out from the wounds, but not freely, almost like it had to be squeezed out. Still, Jay tensed when a drop tickled down his ribcage over the sensitive irritated burns. Zayne wiped it away with the fabric of Jay’s cut shirt and the friction of cotton against the burn made Jay wince hard.

Zayne’s fingers teased over his cheek, almost affectionately as his palm turned up and he ran his knuckles lightly over his cheekbone. Then, finally signalling the end of this session, his fingers brushed down and he started picking at the duct tape.

“Slow? Or in one go? Rip it off and you wouldn’t have to shave tomorrow. Or for a while even, maybe. Bonus.”

Jay grit his teeth and hummed twice.

“One go?”

Another hum.

“Okeydokey.”

A scream was pulled free along with the tape.

Zayne snorted softly and twisted his lips to hide a smile.

“What?” Jay snarled in-between gasps of breath.

“Nothing, nothing.” He pushed himself off of Jay and got to his feet. “Go apply some lotion, or something. This shouldn’t scar but treat it well.”

Jay too scrambled to his feet and hurried to the bathroom, tearing out his first-aid kit. He hissed as he applied cool lotion to the two burns, but it also instantly brought a relief that his body had been waiting for. And his mind as well; it had been screaming for water, for something to cool the burns, for anything that would prevent this from scarring and infecting and--

He glanced up in the mirror and he saw why Zayne had to laugh. The skin around his mouth and across his cheeks was all irritated, red and wrinkly from that goddamn duct tape. The red stood out against his pale skin and crossed a path over his mouth. A single stripe that made him look like a permanently annoyed and unimpressed Joker.

A level of annoyance certainly was present, but he wasn’t unimpressed…

Leaning heavily on the sink he stared, almost a little detached, at the cuts, the blood, and the discoloured burns, all demanding his attention.

He just really wanted to crash. Follow Hank’s example and go for an early night.

And he would.

-

Tag list: @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror @susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime @freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks @hold-back-on-the-comfort @whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion @afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8 @itsmyworld98 @scribbelle

[leclercsbf]

he doesn’t know how many forza ferraris he has left in him.

[angelforcas]

I wish you were my father

> Oh??

> You really think so?? You're certain?

> Wait no you're serious aren't you- Wow, okay- I mean I'm definitely flattered, don't get me wrong

> I just don't think your typical parent would approve of how I'd go about it. I'd expect your life expectancy to lower if I was your dad

[prisonpodcast]

.

[nyaskitten]

Unpopular opinion: I'm so glad Mr. E = Echo is nowhere even CLOSE to being canon.

[skullzy20]

I am not exaggerating when I say I live with one of the worst cishet men I've ever met in my life and its horrible

Pretty big vent incoming in tags, just a warning. Feel free to scroll past /gen

[falselyprofound]

donna noble babey

[lanternlightss]

also. i need you all to know horribly venti is going through it in stwbk because, like. damn.

they have no sense of identity. they have been putting up an act for so so long that it is horrifically difficult to tell where cecil ends and venti begins. even when they’re alone, they keep the act up because they truly, honestly have no idea who they are without it.

sure, they’re a little more vibrant than cecil. they have their own way of wording things, too, being far more casual than cecil ever dreamed of being.

but it’s just… it has gotten to the point where there’s almost no “them” left. it has gotten to the point where they still remain in cecil’s shadow. cecil’s mirror.

and it sucks, because this is not what cecil wanted at all. they wanted venti to be happy with who they were, because that person is very very important to cecil, and very dear to them.

it’s just… hard, when the only person who truly remembers venti is dead.

[fionnaskyborn]

one day when i am not busy dying on the inside and out i will write an honest-to-god essay about how people are, for the lack of a better descriptor but simultaneously for the lack of a more perfect one, too edgy about five.

[autistic-katara]

when the person who entirely defines what love is to u thinks theyre unlovable and have no one<<<

[hollow-prey]

Arc.ana app I am begging you on my hands and knees, if you are going to force me to see art of Jul.ian and As.ra almost kissing in a pop-up promo ad when I open the game, can you please at least grant me the option of muting the pop-ups for 24 hours so I don't have to take psychic damage and cover my screen while I exit out of the promos every time I log in