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surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year

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Romance Your Demons

TW: Blood, bruises, asphyxiation attempt, gun mention, violence

Happy late birthday, 🎂 @thelazywitchphotographer

"Darling," Villain growled, baring their teeth in a predatorial fashion.

"Dear," Hero replied languidly, although their eyes were glued to the criminal's balled-up fists, to their arched body, ready to pounce.

They were far too reminiscent of an old, married couple, something everyone and their mother never ceased to point out, much to both the crime-fighter and the evil-doer's chagrin.

The villain rammed into them, the hero's body slamming into the wall with an audible thud, the force just shy away from breaking something.

"Well, this is intimate," the hero scoffed, swinging their leg and slamming it harshly into their adversary's ribs, letting the criminal fall to the ground, spitting blood and a flurry of filthy curses out of their mouth.

The dagger-sharp smirk on the hero's smug face was arguably a more painful blow than that merciless kick. Villain had always been told that their pride would be the end of them.

Well, now it would be the end of Hero too.

Wiping the blood from their mouth, their fingers clawed around Hero's neck, digging into their skin, leaving scratches and bruises in their wake, ripping out shallow breaths from the hero's lungs as their pale face slowly turned a sickly shade of blue.

"You're not laughing now, are you, sucker?" they seethed, loosening their death grip around their enemy's throat by a mere fraction.

Gasping and taking greedy breaths of air, the hero still had the audacity to flash a dirt-eating grin. "No, I s'ppose not."

It made the villain wish to squash the life right out of the crime-stopper's body, to beat them to a bloody pulp on the sidewalk, to empty a gun (that they unfortunately lacked right now) into the jerk's head.

But it also made them want to pull them up against their chest and kiss the hero's cheekbones and bring that oh so pretty blush to their face and neck, one that they'd only seen because Hero was exerting themselves and not because they were flustered.

The hero had dark circles under their eyes and dry skin. They'd lost weight, and not in any way that was healthy, dropping muscle from what was once a gorgeously lean figure. They were young, but their eyes were a hundred years older.

But they were struggling in the criminal's vice-like grip, still fighting for what most would deem a lost cause, still grinning in that stupidly carefree way they did when they were just starting out, barely in high school and nowhere near as broken. And it was beautiful.

The villain wanted to curse themselves, so they did.

"What? Are we just gonna keep cuddling here together for all eternity?" Hero supplied in a mostly sarcastic tone, but the strange edge it had could almost be read as flirtatious.

Villain released them from the bruising grip on their neck, their nemesis took in great breaths of air, their body shuddering as they almost fell to the ground, only for the evil-doer to catch them with a steadying arm wrapped around their waist.

They couldn't even tell when the hero's face went scarlet.

"So, where's the part where you commit homicide?" they asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll save that for later, dove. Right now, you're all I can think about," they admitted, almost guiltily.

Surprisingly, they weren't met with another infuriatingly attractive, lopsided smirk. The look on the crime-fighter's face was nothing, if not utterly dazed.

"M-me? But I'm a mess. Like that one article so eloquently put it, I'm a cocktail of problems in a spandex suit with a few witty catchphrases," they replied, laughing humourlessly.

Villain's grip around their waist tightened subtly. "You're just tired. Sure, you could find great use for a physiotherapist, a haircut, a whole, new diatery plan, some basic skin care an-"

"Yeah, a whole makeover. No need to rub it in, though," they attested, only mildly irritated.

The villain rolled their eyes. "My point is, even through all this, you still manage to shine like a diamond in the rough."

"Oh so personality over looks? Got it," they chuckled slyly.

The criminal paused in their walk and pulled their enemy forward by the collar, "Do I have to spell it out for you? You're so goddamn hot even when you're not supposed to be, so awfully dishevelled, and yet here I am," they whispered, their lips almost brushing the hero's ear.

A tense moment of awkward silence passed as the crime-fighter pulled away from them, their eyes wide and their lips parted, trying uselessly for a few false starts. "So, where to now?" they said, straightening their posture gracefully and attempting to regain their composure, like the flustered mess of emotions from just a moment ago had never been.

"My place. We'll fix you up a little, and then we can go get something to eat," the villain replied, failing to keep the smile out of their voice.

"What happened to me being all glowing?" the hero teased.

"You're very lucky you're pretty," Villain snarled through gritted teeth, their hand resting on the back of Hero's neck.

They quickly tensed up, until the villain started to rub their neck, as though apologising for the damage they'd previously caused. The dark scowl was quickly wiped off their face as they watched the tightness dissipate from the hero's form. How had they not taken that adorable, little idiot out before?

"You're still good-looking, Hero. But you owe it to yourself to at least take care of yourself. Live a little." There was no mocking or cruelty, no sharp edges to their smile and nothing but gentleness in the villain's golden, honey brown eyes, making the hero's own hazel ones go as wide as saucers.

No one's ever talked to Hero like that, cared about them this way, or looked at them like they were a treasure. So, they nodded, hooked their hand into the villain's, placed a quick kiss on their forehead and allowed themselves to be lead forward.

The opposite of love is not hate, but indifference. Strong emotions often find themselves mixing together, melting into one another. The fine line between love and hatred defines itself by desire, a treacherous walk to make, but all the more worth it. And the heart can so strangely burn a different flame, beat for a whole new cause, adore what it used to despise, and admit what it so vigorously used to deny.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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so-hot-i-make-hell-jealous · 1 year

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Just a Presence by Your Side

TW: Implied depression, smoking, killing and death mentions

Jay and Dami fanfic, characters fully belong to DC

Jason Todd knew a bad day like he knew the back of his hand, and nothing even had to happen for him to notice.

He woke up feeling exhausted, even though for once, he'd actually gotten a decent amount of sleep. His mind felt blank, even though it was racing with thoughts. Mostly because it was a useless mantra of everything he didn't want to hear, all mixed together to create a recipe from hell that left a bitter taste on the edge of his tongue, left his stomach coiling into knots.

He swore and threw himself out of the bed, realising he couldn't sleep it off if he tried.

He forced himself into the shower, and he let the hot water relax muscles he didn't even know were tensed. But once he was done drying himself and dressing up, and the momentary bliss of being warm from his shower faded away, and he went back to feeling miserable again.

He looked up at his face in the mirror and wished he could recognise it. The image reflected back wasn't just that of a stranger, but of a monster, his mouth pulled into a dark scowl, the lines of his face terribly harsh. His skin was paler than usual, and an ugly scratch had made its way across the curve of his jaw. Ironically enough, it was from when he cut himself shaving last week, and it only served as a reminder of his incompetence.

An irritating Lazarus green seemed to line the edge of his vision, inking everything in, whispering thoughts of violent murder into his ears like a devil dripping poison into them from its tongue, forcing the venom down his throat, holding him down, so it stayed. He wasn't at the point of racing into his safe room and tearing the place down for the umpteenth time till his knuckles bled and he'd screamed his throat raw yet.

Guilt mixed itself with shame, and an infinite amount of reminders of his failure bored into his head. He remembered how he regretted even trying to steal from the damned Batman, trusting his mother, trying to take on the Joker, everything he'd ever done. He'd failed Bruce, failed Alfred (as far as Jason saw it), hell, he'd even failed that little boy bleeding to death in a vibrant-coloured costume, still hoping he'd make it out alive, still playing dress-up and thinking he was a hero. He hadn't healed, hadn't become better. He was still the same rash, hot-heated fool, although his innocence had shattered like glass, ironically just as fast as his ribcage had under the Joker's goddamn crowbar.

He was just a broken mess of scars, fury and decisions he regretted. He may have pretended he was so proud of his trail of bloodshed, indifferent of all the people he'd pushed away from him, but he was just tired of putting up a front all the time. There was no one Jason didn't want to see today more than. . .himself.

He'd really been meaning to quit, but the conditions were completely not in his favour, so he stood out on his balcony and lit a cigarette. Took in a long drag, exhaled and hoped the nicotine would work its magic.

By the time he'd heard the soft ruffle of fabric as the figure landed gracefully on his balcony, he'd already made it to his fifth cigarette.

Damian Al Ghul Wayne stood there, dressed in something casual for once; an emerald green hoodie that hung loosely off his slender frame, probably belonging to Dick. He raised one dark eyebrow at him disapprovingly.

"Tt. I wasn't aware anyone could have such an insatiable desire for lung cancer, Todd," he chided, and though his tone was snarky, it didn't have much bite.

"Go to hell, Demon Spawn," he shot back, fixing him with a death glare not unlike that of Bruce's.

Much to his horror, Damian laughed. There had to be something utterly wrong with him because the little brat never even let a smirk grace his lips. "I know you were practically born with a perpetual scowl on your face, and you can't help looking like a wet cat, albeit much less cute, but you seem to be actually upset today."

"And why the hell do you care?" he challenged, flicking the ash off his cigarette. "Why are you even here? Let's get this over with and tell me what you want from me."

The younger vigilante sighed and leaned back against the railing. "That last mission we went on together. It made me realise there's more to a simple-minded fool like you than meets the eye."

Involuntarily, Jason snorted as he relit another cigarette. "Lovely coming from you, short stack."

Damian flipped him a gesture Alfred would most definitely ground him for, and Bruce would make that disappointed 'hngh' noise he always reserved for when he wished to express his distaste. Jason had been on the receiving end of that for a stupid number of times that he'd memorised it.

"I am trying to say, you're not as self-centered as you so desperately try to showcase, Todd."

"Yeah, I'm actually a lot worse than that. So go ahead and tell Goldy that this 'brother-bonding' crap isn't gonna work between us," he snarled, taking in another long drag, trying to get the stupid green glow to fade from everything, trying to ignore whatever told him that Damian would be oh so easy to grab by the hair, his fingers could just wrap around his throat and choke all the life out of him without so much as a scream from the current Robin's lips.

"Grayson didn't tell me anything. I came on my own accord. And I get it, Todd. More than Grayson, more than Father ever would. You grew up trying to meet impossibly high standards. Trying to be the best thing they've ever seen. You tear yourself apart trying to please, and then you realise you still committed one too many atrocities in the process. You think I've never felt the Pit's rage myself?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest.

As much as he wished to say something snarky to shut the kid up, he realised his words held reason, felt familiar.

He continued. "I grew up with my hands soaked in the blood of others, to the point it turned to an addiction. No matter how much my ideals have changed, part of me still lusts for blood. Still feels it's right. I despise that part of me, but I can't deny it's still present. I cannot pretend the scars of the past do not exist when they still remain on my skin."

"Great. Wonderful. Nicely put. The hell am I supposed to do with that?" he spat, his jaw clenching and his fingers tightening around the cigarette.

"Maybe the means weren't the purest, but you've always fought for the better side. You've made mistakes, but your life has always been a fight for survival. I thought the way you died was just a cautionary tale of a foolhardy child's naivety, but you risked your life to save your mother's. You went up against the Joker. It was foolish, yes, but brave. You saved my life last time, when you could've so easily lost your own, when you fought so hard for it. You're not perfect, but you're not a bad person, Jason."

Then, it hit him like a kick to the ribs. He'd called him by his first name. Whatever the reason, it meant he was being completely sincere. He, Damian Al Ghul Wayne, one of the most blunt people to ever exist, was telling him he wasn't bad. The boy could spin a thread, sure. But that look in his eyes, a soft grass green that was worlds apart from the ugly Lazarus glow, couldn't be that of a liar's. Maybe the muscles of his face hadn't shown much emotion, but his eyes spoke volumes, the millions of words he knew he could hear.

"Goddamn it, kid. You're right." He seemed ro be telling himself that as threw his cigarette down, stamping on it with his foot.

"Of course I am, Todd. Learn from your superiors." He let his lip curve upwards with a lop-sided smirk.

He rolled his eyes. "Right. Wanna come inside? I do other things besides chainsmoke in my balcony. Who'd have thought?" He snorted in spite of himself.

"Tt. Let's hope you aren't as dull and lifeless as I assume, Todd."

He followed him inside, and they soon found themselves sprawled out on the couch, each of them reading a book of their choice. Dickens for Damian and Shakespeare for him. Jason could've sworn the green started to fade from his vision.

Sometimes, even when the world seemed to have twisted itself against you, the simple presence of another person, their warmth against your side, the few exchanged words between you could pull you out of a dark abyss of hopelessness. It wouldn't magically erase all the suffering, but at least, it felt like you could breathe, like you could live again.

Notes: I don't really know if in canon, Dami has actually had a soak in the Lazarus Pit, but here he has. I don't stick to canon that much anyway. This is my very first time posting a fanfic, so I hope neither of the boys are too ooc here!

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synesthete-sylke · 8 months

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selkie smajor selkie smajor selkie smajor !!

the fact pirates!scott could've been secretly mer,,, please the angst would be so good

also scott as a chubby little seal would be so funny, he'd break into the kestrel's base to eat their snacks and to avoid being caught turn into a seal whenever someone walked by

imagine going to eat your 3am shredded cheese and you walk into your kitchen only to find a harbor seal covered in jam eating all of your pastries.

how did he get there? why is he eating that and not the fish? how did he open drawers with flippers? these are all questions scott will not answer!

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inkskinned · 1 year

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hey it's nanowrimo. i have tips bc i've done it about 34 times.

Don't edit. Ever. Stop it. If you just decide to start a new project half thru this one with all new characters, no problem. pick up and keep writing as if you'd already written the first half of that.

"but i spelled it wrong" whatever. "but the grammar" whatever. make it exist first. no time for sense. think like you're working on a typewriter. no backspace. only forward go.

Don't re-read further than a paragraph or two backwards. "did i mention the gun before?" listen - it doesn't matter. if you need there to be a gun there, the gun is there. put it back in once you finish the book.

"i forgot the specifics of X thing i already wrote" whatever. change it, make a note/comment to figure it out later, and just write what makes sense for the moment. "no raquel it's legit the characters name and origin" idc that character is now reborn as Claudius from Elsewhere. it's fine.

only you see your mistakes. nobody else knows. one of the ways writing and dance overlap - only you know the choreography. nobody else will know if you miss a step, so just keep dancing and pretend you meant to do it like that.

it's an illusion that you need to write linearly - from point A to point B to point C. Nah; that's just timeline propaganda. I've written a LOT of books out of order and just reordered them once i've finished. if you have a scene you'd LOVE to write but can't get there yet because of plot, just fuckin write the scene. I've always found its easier to establish "point F" "point J" and "Point A" and then wiggle my way between those scenes.

write what you WANT to write. 230 pages of smut? of well-researched discussion on bread? whatever. the point is to strengthen muscles however you can.

if you miss a day, a week, whatever. not the end of the world. we all have dry days. also time is a myth so u can do this challenge whenever u want.

as soon as you try to write for a specific audience, you kill your voice. you are writing for yourself. stop thinking about how people will take ur book. it don't matter. what matter is u, enjoying writing. i luv u.

play to your strengths. i have characters talk so much because i don't know how to write a plot if it kills me but i'm really good at dialogue so.

i love a flight of fancy. write a poem in there. shift tactics and write in code. keep it fun for yourself.

see what happens if you shift something major about ur main characters - gender, wealth, superpowers. or if you change point-of-view. or if you kill everyone in a big explosion. do NOT edit anything before this or after it. often these little weird one-off exercises teach me what interests me about what i'm working on. it is never what i thought. plus it is a fun way to add like 1k words.

stretch.

it's for fun and for practice. stop doing that project if it's giving you anxiety. once my nano was literally 50k words of half-started stories. just things i tried and tried and tried and wasn't able to flesh out. oops. but i am now 50k words of a better writer.

add dragons?

read books/listen to books on tape/etc. people often make the mistake of "buckling down" to just write. you need inspiration. you need to like. fill up on words. you need to remember how it feels to lose yourself in a story.

i don't have the time or space to really talk about this in this post but a lot of creative people turn to drugs/alcohol because it can help you be more creative. this is harmful, and walking a blade that only cuts deep. if you notice you and your loved ones are turning more to substances, please know i love you and i hope you are able to get help soon. i feel like this almost never gets mentioned because it's kind of a hazy underbelly to art. you are always more important than the work.

on that note. drink your fukin. water.

don't talk about a story until you've finished it. once you tell the story, it exists already, and isn't about discovery. i usually have a very canned "haha we'll see" response.

grapes :) tasty snack.

i love you be free.

#edit: the command not to talk about it is from personal experience!#i have heard Otherwise in the tags so i will edit to say:#if you've noticed that you tend to like Talk A Lot about ur piece but never WRITE it -#consider voice-to-text #also #u might be like me and ... need to figure it out on the PAGE and not OUT LOUD #i am often an auditory processor so i wont tell people specifics but i'll be like #huh. so i have a character who is in love .... and they don't know it #and my friend will be like ''oh they should kiss' and meanwhile #somehow #saying it out loud im like #yeah thank u ur right the dress SHOULD be purple that's what the problem has been <3 #idk!!! it's up to you!!! my suggestion is to say LESS until you know for a FACT that saying MORE works better for you #-- always better to slowly unspool in ur exploration of that #than to accidentally talk too much and get Bored Of Project #idk idk idk #i have adhd so every book surprises me bc im like #wait where did any of this even COME FROM #and whatever little gremlin in my brain that writes is like :)#''heyyy girlie.......''#WHICH IS A LONG WAY TO SAY:#i didn't know about Not Talking About It as an option until i'd ruined a few projects!!#but there are people who need to do the other thing!!! and i love us both!!!!#wow brains are so funny!!!!

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hotaru-no-yume · 1 year

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loyalty to the raging tempest

CW: This contains spoilers from the new archon quest. Read at your own discretion.

"You can start a new life here if you want to."

The God of Wisdom's words echo in your mind as you watch your Lord's unmoving figure on the hospital bed. You saw his fall, from the proud and cruel harbinger to a lifeless puppet who had its heart taken away. With Scaramouche's defeat and the Fatui branding you a traitor for refusing to return with the Doctor, you had nowhere else to go… until the Dendro Archon offered you sanctuary in her region.

"Gravedigger… You will regret this." The Doctor spits with the promise of your death.

"I'm sure the matra would be willing to take you in. Creating a final resting place for the dead is also necessary." In contrast, the Dendro Archon's kindness promised protection.

She was right. Under her watchful gaze, no one will be able to lay a hand on you in Sumeru. You can leave everything behind; even the pitiful puppet in front of you. Truthfully, Scaramouche was an awful person. No one in the Fatui liked him and your colleagues would often give you pitying looks once you got summoned to his side. You've lost count of how many times you were punished for not following his orders perfectly.

But still, for some reason, you can't leave him alone. Perhaps it's because of the way he looked at you when you first met. The look of recognition, fury, and something else. You remember him looming over you, staring at your dirt-covered body - the result of digging tirelessly in the cold mornings of Snezhnaya, all in an effort to create a tomb for a soldier you hardly know. Once you lock eyes, you see a raging tempest and you wonder what he's seeing when he looks at you.

"Pitiful. What's with that look in your eyes? Are you merely a doll who knows nothing more than to roll around in the dirt? Perhaps I should call you a rat."

You nod, but that seemed to make him angrier. As insulting as his words are, you really don't know anything else. In a distant memory, you see the blurry faces of your mother and father, hear their whispers of your duties and how it is important to create a final resting place, you remember the old shovel they handed you before you dug your first grave and the sight of their backs as they left for a mission and never returned.

You feel his attack before you see it. Your vision glows and you parry the blade of electro he sends towards you. You get thrown back, and you feel the air get knocked out of your lungs as you slam into a tree.

"...Good. It seems you're not entirely hopeless."

You stand up on shaky legs, tensing as he steps closer and closer. He scoffs as you raise your weapon defensively. He probably thought fighting you was mere child's play.

"Work under me. I'm sure I can find some use for a little rat like you."

And he did find some use for you. Before you knew it, you became his right hand… or maybe "errand runner" was a better description for your job. "The Balladeer's Servant", others would whisper behind your back as they see you tailing the Harbinger's figure. You were at his beck and call and usually the one that bears the brunt of his anger (or as you like to call it in your head - his temper tantrums.) It was exhausting work; trying to keep up with his demands.

But sometimes, you would see the eye of the storm. He was calm in those times, his voice losing the sharp edge it always seemed to have - like a storm temporarily diminishing into a gentle, soothing rain.

"What are you looking at? …The cherry trees?"

He hums, tipping his hat up as he stares at the lush pink trees, not minding the rain of petals falling on him due to the strong gust of wind. You think that he looks very beautiful.

"I don't need anything. Just stay there and don't make a sound."

You watch him collapse in pain after enduring the Doctor's experiments. Regardless of his protests, you help him get settled on his bed. You silently question why he doesn't see himself as a human. After all, he feels pain and suffering, just like everyone else.

Your current situation reminded you of those quiet nights with only the candle light to keep you company. But instead of seeing your Lord's eyes open the next day, he's been asleep for more than two months. Just as you think he's never going to wake up, he stirs from his slumber one morning, jolting you awake.

"...My Lord?" You call, making his pretty eyes focus on you.

"You're still here?" He mutters in disbelief, like he expected you to be gone from his side.

"Why wouldn't I be? I pledged loyalty to you, didn't I?"

Your honest words stun him into silence. He narrows his eyes, looking for a lie, a hint of deception and desire for personal gain.

He finds none. Just an honest fool that he picked up from the dirt littered with flowers and concrete.

"Idiot."

"̵͉̐̈́S̷͍̜̓c̶̱͎̈ặ̸̪̕r̴͚͎̉̍ă̵̤m̴̻̃̀ö̴̤̣́̈́u̷͍̙̽c̷͓̘͠h̷͈̟̉̀ė̸̗"̷͚͍͒̚ ̶̲̈ǎ̸̲͋ń̶͖̥̐d̷͉̒ ̴̤͍͗̀"̸̬̳̈K̴̤̤͝ả̵̰̈͜b̶̦̱͝u̶͖͚͋ķ̷͆̀ì̵̦̙̓m̸͓̥̑ô̸̠̥͝ṉ̴̦̀͆o̶͖̘͑́"̵̟͂ ̸͖̆̀ͅw̷͕͆̊ǐ̶̺̮l̷̦͋̅l̴͔̹̈́ ̴̫͗̾ç̵̖͋́ẽ̶̯̺ả̸͎̒ş̴̪͒e̶̳̼̍ ̵͍̱̿t̸̬̍̀ọ̸̩̒̍ ̶̻̯̿̚e̷̤̎̚x̵̼͗ì̷͉͈s̴̯̈̈t̸̡̻́.̸̬̏

"Do you… do you remember him?"

A floating fairy that carried the scent of stars asked you as she gestured to the man in blue. Four pairs of eyes stare at you in anticipation as you gaze at the man with a frown. He crosses his arms as he waits for your answer. You weren't expecting this strange turn of events at all. Your life was finally becoming peaceful under the kindness of the Dendro Archon. She gave you a home and a place to work. You needed nothing more. And yet, you feel like things are about to go upside down again with the presence of this strange man.

"I'm sorry. I don't know him." You said. Their gazes turn uneasy and the man in blue's neutral expression breaks for a moment.

"...But I feel like I should." You added, stepping forward to get a closer look. Not expecting the close proximity, he flinches and moves back, as if electrocuted.

"How dare-!"

"What's your name?" You ask, not paying attention to the spark of anger and embarrassment that appeared in his eyes.

"...Give me one." He says with a sigh.

"Pardon?" Did this familiar stranger really ask you to name him?

"How fascinating…" The Dendro Archon mumbles, placing a hand on her chin as she regards you with curious eyes. "Their memories were definitely erased… but somehow, the connection you formed with them was so strong that it resisted the data deletion process. There is a saying that the heart and mind are two separate things. In this case, the mind may have forgotten, but the feeling is still there. It seems you've garnered someone's loyalty regardless of your lack of divinity."

"...I suppose that's enough." The man in blue looks away, tipping his hat over his eyes.

"Well? Have you thought of a name yet?" He addresses you and you find yourself at the center of attention once again. They were actually serious about naming him…

"How about…"

The man in blue closes his eyes. You think you see the corner of his lips twitch upwards into a small smile.

#scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #wanderer x reader #gn reader #spoilers for the archon quest #writings #genshin impact x reader #i think this was the first time i wrote something for genshin #my first genshin fic and its not even my love venti or husbando ayato #its for this little gremlin #who im starting to like

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lees-chaotic-brain · 4 months

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I want to tell Inumaki that he is Perfect. He is so expressive and loving even if he can't communicate...I feel like he would be sad for not being enough BUT LIKE HE IS THE NICEST IN WHOLE WORLD 😭😭😭😭 cryin rn

I was feeling really down, but writing this made me feel better, so thank you anon for sending this lovely little idea in.

CW: Shibuya spoilers, mentions of past injury, loss of limb, hurt/comfort, implied depression, insecurity, scars, non-sexual nudity

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“Hey baby, I’m back.”

You called out to your boyfriend as you stepped into your shared apartment. There was no response, but his shoes were in the doorway and his coat was hanging on his hook. Padding into the living space you still couldn’t find him.

“Hey, babe? Toge?”

Concerned you call out again. You knew things were rough for him right now with the five year anniversary of the loss of his arm coming up next week, but you hoped it wasn’t bad enough for him to run off.

The thought caused panic to bubble in you, your chest constricting as you hurriedly went to check the bedroom. The room was a mess, pictures and random scraps of paper strewn about. Picking up a few near the entrance, you realized that they were artifacts of your high school days. Pictures of you and Toge on dates, hanging out with the other second years, and sweet notes he wrote for you made up the mess scattered across the plush carpet.

Then your heart sank. As you surveyed the whirlwind of memories, you realized that they all had something in common. They were all from before the Shibuya Incident. Before he lost his arm.

Following the sound of running water, you pick your way across the room and push open the bathroom door. A blast of steam hits you in the face as you flip the lights and fan on. There he was.

He was sitting in the shower still wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, unresponsive as the near scalding water cascaded down on him. Without a second thought you peel off your shirt and socks before climbing into the shower with him. Crouching before him, you gently brush his sopping bangs out of his eyes.

“Hey babe. Found you.”

You smile softly at him, cupping his face with your right hand. He doesn’t respond, but he leans slightly into your touch.

“Can I hold you?”

You keep your voice gentle and quiet, your heart breaking for him. A slight, barely perceptible nod was the only sign that he even heard you. Maneuvering so you were sitting beside him, you wrap one arm around his back and lean against him. After a moment, he tilts his head so it’s resting on yours.

Sitting in silence, you give him the space and time he needs. After a long stretch of time, he pulls away and turns so you are facing him. You place your hand on his knee and squeeze it, silently telling him that you’re there for him, and he can take all the time he needs.

Clumsily, he begins signing with his remaining hand.

Why are you still with me?

Of all the things he could have asked or said, this was not one of the things you would have anticipated. You take a moment to think. Then you reply simply and bluntly, wanting to make sure that he understood what you were saying.

“Because you’re you. And I love you.”

He looks frustrated and his signing becomes jerkier as he speeds up.

But look at me!

He makes a vague gesture towards his entire body.

“I am. And all I see is the man I love.”

You have an idea where this is coming from, but you want to wait until he says it because the idea that he would think so lowly of himself physically pained you.

But I’m useless! His shoulders slump and he repeats the hand motion. Useless.

“You’re not useless.”

You say firmly.

“Not even in the slightest.”

I am though.

The haunted look of self-loathing looked unnatural on his gorgeous face.

I’m practically useless as a jujutsu sorcerer. I already have this technique that hurts me more than it helps others. Now I can’t even make up for my weakness with my physical ability because I lost my arm.

Tears join the shower water dripping down his face.

And not only am I a worthless jujutsu sorcerer, I’m a pathetic boyfriend. I can’t hold you, the person I love more than anything else in this world, in my arms. I’m not strong enough to protect you. Hell I can’t even tell you I love you with my words!

He averts his gaze to the water going down the drain.

And on top of all that, I’m selfish. I know I’m worthless. I know I’m not good enough for you, but I need you. I’m not a good enough person to let you go.

Finally done, his hand dropped to his side with a small splash.

“Hey.”

Your voice is loving, but insistent as you speak.

“Look at me.”

He complies, his lovely violet eyes dark and hopeless.

“You told me to look at you earlier. And I am. Do you know what I see?”

A pathetic man who-

You continue talking, ignoring him.

“I see the man I fell in love with in high school. He’s grown up and changed, but at heart he’s the same person.”

You caress his cheek, looking deep into his eyes.

“His face has sharpened and become more handsome.”

He shuddered against your palm as you brush your thumb along his cheekbone and jawline.

“His eyes show that he’s seen and experienced indescribable horrors. He’s lost that innocence. But I love him all the more for it. Because I’ve changed too. I’ve lost my innocent belief that we are untouchable. I’ve become harsher, more pessimistic, and less emotional. But you know what’s in my heart?”

You take his hand and place it on your chest. Quietly he watches you, and you can see that your words are starting to penetrate the self-hatred clouding his mind.

“In here lives the silly teenage girl who thought that she and all her loved ones were untouchable, invincible. The girl who cared too much about anything and anyone. The girl who spent hours daydreaming about going on romantic dates with her white haired classmate that always had a mischievous spark in his eyes. The girl who kept a meticulous journal of her dream wedding to a boy with purple eyes and beautiful markings around his mouth.”

The corners of Inumaki’s mouth lifted a miniscule amount and his eyes softened as he remembered. Encouraged, you reach behind you and turn the water off. Continuing to speak, you begin removing his soaked sweatpants.

“As for your inability to tell me that you love me with your words, that has never bothered me.”

Placing the sweatpants beside you to deal with later, you gently tug on his arm until he stands and steps out of the shower.

“Honestly, I like it better that way.”

He shoots you a disbelieving look at your words, but allows you to dry him off before helping him into a fresh pair of boxers and sweatpants.

“Really, I do. It’s so easy to say the words ‘I love you’ and not mean them at all. It’s a lot harder to fake it or lie if you have to express them through your actions. The way you worked so hard everyday to make sure I knew how you felt made me feel even more secure and loved than a few shallow words could.”

You quickly dry yourself off and change into a fresh pair of panties and a new shirt. Leading out of the bathroom and into your bedroom, you sit in the middle of your bed and lay a towel across your lap before patting it. Obediently he laid down and put his head on your lap. You began drying his hair.

“You’re special, Toge. You express yourself through physical touch and acts of service, and have never verbally said the words ‘I love you’ to me, but let me tell you. Not once, in the five and a half years we’ve been dating, have I doubted for even a second that you loved me. Do you understand? I don’t need you to be able to say the words to me. I already know.”

After you finished drying his hair, he sat up and faced you.

But what about my arm? Do you really want to be with me still? I’m disfigured and disabled.

The look in your eyes is so tender he can barely stand it. Why? Why do you look at him with such love and affection?

“Toge.”

You breathe, the look on your face telling him that you knew exactly what was running through his mind.

“I didn’t fall in love with you because of these.”

You squeeze his bicep.

“I fell in love with you because of this.”

You tap his temple.

“And because of this.”

You lay your palm flat against his chest. Looking up at him, he can see the sincerity shining in your eyes.

“I love you for you, Toge. You could be the ugliest, most ratchet mf to ever roam the face of the planet and I would still love you. Because you will always be my person. And I hope that I’ll always be yours.”

He nods, smiling at your word choice as tears well in his eyes, relief hitting him like a freight train as you managed to say exactly what he needed to hear. Tugging your arm, you help him pull you into his lap. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he buries his face in your neck as you drape your arms around his neck and card through his hair.

He presses repeated kisses against the crook of your neck, each one a silent apology for doubting the love you shared.

You rested your cheek against his soft white hair and took comfort in the intimacy of the moment. Kissing the side of his head, you whisper the words you so desperately want him to engrain into his soul and never forget.

“You, Inumaki Toge, are perfect. Just the way you are.”

#lee's brain writes #end of 2023 collab #inumaki x reader #inumaki toge x reader #toge inumaki x reader #inumaki x you #hurt/comfort #jjk x reader #enjoy this soft insecure baby boy inumaki #bc in my eyes he's a little gremlin/troll who loves to make mischief #also a meme master #but i was feeling depressed and sentimental so here you go #idk if you're going to get an inumaki fic not about him being a little shit again

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wandixx · 2 months

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Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 5

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 1 685

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Steph finally gets to meet Duke's kid. And she comes bearing gifts!

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

Duke was really glad that Bruce was busy whole previous evening and couldn’t give him The TalkTM Vigilante edition. Maybe he shouldn’t because B being busy spoke trouble but he couldn’t feel too sad about it. He didn’t want to have The TalkTM though.

For now, Dani was running next to him, with a serious look on her face that was kinda uncanny. She wasn’t supposed to not be happy and some weird instincts were screaming at him to fix it and fix it now. But he didn’t know how!

Though some of his jokes caused a little smile, so it was good.

It turned potentially less good when she stopped without warning, lowering herself to the fighting stance (finally proper, which made him so immensely proud by the way). He stopped too, wishing they wouldn’t have to fight but he knew better than to latch on this hope.

“What’s up, Hoopoe?” he whispered.

“Someone is coming. Light, use grapple” Most likely one of the Bats then, they were due to a visit anyway. However better to not lower his guard in case he was mistaken or it was a prank/test. His expectations were proven right though, when purple blur flipped over the edge of the roof. He relaxed and put hand on Dani’s shoulder so she wouldn’t tackle Steph before they could explain anything. She seemed on edge like that whole day.

“Hey Spoiler” he greeted to further show that the blonde was a friend.

“Sup Signal! Heard I can finally meet your little friend!”

Dani straightened herself and tried to float a few inches up to seem higher probably.

“I’m considerably higher than most kids my age” she deadpanned. She really wasn’t though. He was still trying to learn whether her size was caused more by genetics or malnourishment. Her only family member Duke knew of was also small, so maybe it was a family thing though.

Steph shrugged, waving her palm a few inches below her shoulder, approximately where Damian reached, quite few inches over Dani’s head.

“Robin is the family’s smol violent bean and you’re shorter than him. You’re small bean, deal with this”

Little girl pouted, crossing her arms. Steph cooed.

“Oh, you even get angry like he does!”

Young meta looked like she was asking ‘Should I use violence?’ and inch towards the answer ‘Yes’. Duke decided he should step in before she acted on these thoughts. Teasing was the opposite of what girl needed at the moment. Some good fight might not be bad but maybe not with Steph.

“Cut it Spoiler”

She rolled her eyes so dramatically he could tell she did so despite her mask. He still thought it was impressive “Don’t be boring dude”

Dani growled in a way that couldn’t be fully human, just like she did when they talked about her training for the first time. Duke squeezed her arm. Girl glanced at him before sagging so much he was scared she would fall for a hot second. He exchanged concerned looks with Steph over her lowered head. It was not normal nor was it good.

“Alright, you’re not smol,” Steph agreed lightly “Officially at least. What’s in my head stays there. Does it work for you?”

Duke almost hit her in the arm. Not strongly, in a friendly manner but still. He didn’t only because it seemed to somehow work. He let his hands drop.

“Your mind is sacred,” Dani started seriously “what leaves your mouth is not. Can’t diss you on your thoughts but I’ll on your words” she shared like it was some important truth of life. Or folklore proverb though Duke wasn’t sure about the latter. Afterall he was Gothamite born and breed, he knew countryside from movies “And actions. Actions are kinda important,” meta girl added in lighter tone after moment of thinking.

“Yeah, actions are the best” Steph agreed easily “Hey, can I get it on a T-shirt? I’ll love and cherish it”

“First you laugh at my height and then you want my intellectual property for free? For shame, Spoiler, for shame?”

Steph looked thoughtful, theatrically over exaggerating her body language.

“Valid” she nodded.

Duke decided he would just watch whatever was going to happen and did damage control if needed. He didn’t feel up to anything else anyway.

“Heard your cape went in an adventure,” the purple vigilante admitted after moment of silence. Dani shrugged rubbing her arms awkwardly. Duke knew she normally would fix said cape. It was her way of fidgeting.

“Yup, it’s good way to put it,” girl nodded. “Somebody needed it more, I hope it enjoys its travel. I should get a replacement soon”

“Well, I can’t let fellow caped crusader, who understands necessity of hood, run capeless”

Younger girl waved her hands in a flurry motion of dismissal.

“Don’t-” she stopped when her eyes locked on orange bundle Steph took from somewhere under her cloak. Opportunity to pull tricks like that had made Duke consider adding some sort of cape to his Signal suit back when he had been working on it back in a day but dismissed it. He still wasn’t looking forward to learning curve of fighting with such additional liability. He couldn’t turn it intangible when it was in a way like certain white haired cheater did.

Speaking of Dani, girl stared at Steph’s gift like she couldn’t quite believe it was real. She held her hands close to her chest but her fingers flexed in grabby motion. Her eyes were hidden behind black lenses of her mask but everything else about her face further proved how awestruck she was. Even her muted aura brightened a bit in a way that he learned to recognize as excitement.

It was still kind of weird, by the way. Normal auras haven’t changed, it was kinda their thing.

Steph wiggled her gift a bit. Dani finally took it but had yet to put it on.

“It’s for me?” she whispered so utterly shocked and small that Duke mentally did a double take.

“Yeah, like I said, can’t let you run around without it”

“Oh”

Dani’s hand was gnawing at the edge of the material as if it was some sort of squashmellow.

“Try it on,” Steph encouraged gently.

“We need to check if Spoiler haven’t messed up something”

“Signal!”

Dani snorted, which was all Duke tried to achieve.

She put it on and after a moment of shuffling she once again became orange cloak with feet. She grinned widely looking far more relaxed and settled than she did moments before. She moved around a bit like she was in model show or at least what ten years old thought it could look like.

“You like it?”

“Yup, it’s amazing, thank you Spoiler… Though it’s heavier than I expected”

“Well, I don’t know what your first one was made out of but this is material I use, I found it the best balance between durability, weight and comfiness. Still, it’s quite dense and a bit heavy. Also, I added pockets because you can never have too many of them. Plus there are few glitter bombs inside. You know, ‘welcome to the team’ gifts,” Steph explained eagerly and judging by Dani’s smile, she loved her gifts. Duke would be a little worried on a Gotham crime’s behalf if it wasn’t well, crime and if he wasn’t all there to watch chaos these two would unfold from sidelines with bat-popcorn in hand (though it wasn’t really a thing yet, he would have to mention it to Tim or Jason). For now though, they really should continue on the patrol.

“Now that introductions are over, let’s get going. Crime never sleeps or something,” It was really weird to be the organized one. Before Dani showed up, on a day shift he was a sailor, a captain and a ship (or maybe Gotham was a ship-), We Are Robins days were chaos in purest form and shape and when he was called out for a night he usually was too tired to behave and was just additional mess to organize (on purpose, let him have his goddamn sleep, he wasn’t Tim).

“Okay,” Dani agreed cheerfully “There is a robbery at the greek diner we visited last Thursday. ‘s been going for five minutes or so,” she added unbothered.

“HOOPOE!”

“What?”

***

Spoiler jumped through the open window of the diner with a graceful roll, glitter bombs at hand. Hoopoe and Signal came inside right after her.

“Spoiler alert!” purple girl yelled, throwing two bombs at robbers heads and kicking third one in the ribs.

Dani decided that she liked Spoiler right then and there as she threw her own brand new, orange(!) glitter bombs at remaining criminal.

***

Three of them were running through the city mostly uninterrupted after diner mishap. Steph tried to engage Dani in quip battle but younger girl for once wasn’t jumping on occasion. She kept close to Duke and his only reaction was smug smile in Spoiler’s direction. That’s what she got for trying to steal his sidekick.

“Oh!” Dani exclaimed delighted, stopping abruptly, a smile that spoke trouble gracing her face.

“No, we’re not busting Joker’s scheme by jumping into the meeting to beat them all up without proper back up, again, Hoopoe. They had guns, Hoopoe.”

“Wha- Wasn’t last time enough? Anyway, I heard there is fan meeting with Martian Manhunter in Los Angeles tomorrow,” Great, so no giving him heart attack right now. Thank God for that.

“Shame he won’t make it, huh?” Steph mussed “He is in Illinois right now, isn’t he? It would take him two days driving to even get there”

Dani’s expression looked thoughtful “It’s quite far”

“Yeah, around… 2,500 miles from here”

“Huh”

“What got you thinking kid?” she inquired, ruffling her hair.

“Not a kid and I thought- there is kidnapping at three!” Dani darted in that direction before finishing sentence. Duke jumped right after her slightly scared. She was not ready to handle stuff like that without back up and she would try if he let her run of like that.

********

Steph: I'm meeting my almost niece tomorrow what should I- *gives a gremlin child an ultimate weapon of chaos*

Sometime before this part:

Steph: So, how is your kid?

Duke: She is not my kid!

Duke: By the way, wanna see video I saved of her doing proper side kick for the first time?

Danielle "looks like 10 years old is 10 months max" Phantom: I am in fact much higher than most kids my age

Duke "whoever is feeding this tiny child does bad job at it" Thomas & Stephanie "it's just a lil baby" Brown: Yeah... sure...

Next part

"Tag list" (i haven't expected to ever make it)

@pickleking8

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dcxdp #dc x dp #dani hangs out with duke #signal got new kid and cares about her deeply #dani took so long to tell them about robbery because she didn't like their food and is petty little gremlin #dani says most and not all because she knows vlad is incapable of coming up with something original #so there had to be other clones around #and they probably were higher than here #with her being prematurly released (hence why she is younger than danny)#and fact that danny is short #now that i think about it #dani is opossite of “this is 43567 year old demon acting like child in a body of the child” trope #but baby enough to not risk “born sexy yesterday” area #perfect #wandixx writes #ghost of fries and hero of cookies #have a nice day dear stranger who got to this part

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hype-blue-fixation · 1 month

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Little/Regressed Alastor headcannons! Strictly SFW agere/age regression.

He typically regresses anywhere between 3-8 yrs.

He LOVES talking and will not shut up, even if it's just incoherent words and blabber.

His radio powers allow him to completely change his voice to sound like himself at that age. But he keeps the radio filter effect because he's obsessed with how it sounds.

Is extremely hyper and refuses to sleep until his body gives out.

A bratty troublemaker. Gets into everything. Has zero chill.

Everything he likes becomes his.

Will put literally anything in his mouth and has an oral fixation.

Stims through hand flaps, kicking, and hopping around.

He has no sense of fear or danger.

Doesn't like strangers.

Very protective and possessive of his caregivers. Only he's allowed to make them want to pull their hair out and go insane. Also very affectionate toward his caregivers. He will constantly invade their personal space and give them lick kisses.

Leaves random presents for his caregivers like a wild cat.

Loves fishing for attention and praise. Hates being ignored.

He also pushes his limits to see what he can get away with.

Is very OCD with things he values. Will break and toss around things he doesn't value.

A radio is his equivalent of an Ipad. He can play with it constantly.

Likes using his powers (teleportation and tentacles) to give his caregivers a really hard time.

Says the most off the wall things at the worst times. Can't read a room. Social filter nonexistent.

Extremely dramatic. He will stub his hoof and act like he double died.

When he has a tantrum, everyone knows. He screams, destroys, bites, kicks, and his powers run rampant.

When he's overstimulated, he strips down to his fur. Anything, even his fur itself, can feel itchy and too much to process.

His primary ways of calming down are tight hugs, light tickles, singing, listening to white noise (like fans or TV static), or doing puzzles.

I can probably keep going but alas I force myself to cease for now.

#sfw agere #Little!alastor #Hazbin Hotel agere #Little Headcannons #bratty little #gremlin little #my writing

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betweenblackberrybranches · 1 year

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Messy Automaton AU Lore

And the setup for the story

#dca fnaf #fnaf moon #fnaf sun #moondrop #sundrop #daycare attendant #fnaf sb #fnaf security breach #my art #automaton au #god i hope people can actually read the writing #and the map #its just the quickest rundown of lore #ill probably add more soon #sorry not much daycare attendant in this #well in this AU they are more likely called attendant bc there is no daycare around #also forgive me for any mistakes in my writing i am just a little gremlin its a surprise i can write at all

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iguessigotta · 9 months

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*shakes bag of kibble* COME GET Y'ALL'S FOOD Cahara x gn!reader warnings: injury mention other than that it's just some bittersweet fluff 💜

“S-sorry, I’m just…” you said softly, voice shaking as you let the sentence hang unfinished in the air.

Scared, Cahara knew. He understood why – these dungeons would be terrifying enough empty – too many sleepless nights (days? It was hard to tell now) spent running from hulking guards and things that looked human but refused to die even after their heads were cut off. It would wear anyone out.

You’d held out this entire time, moving ever forward using nothing but pure willpower to continue. It reminded him of the flowers he’d seen back home, growing through stone paths and buildings. A slow but unstoppable force from each flower, each leaf, adding to the pressure that would eventually crack those stones in half. You were strong – powerful – in your own quiet way, Cahara knew that. Admired it. Unfortunately….even as tough as you were, you weren’t built to endure this place. No one was.

“I know,” he said with a sad smile, extending his arm to you, “C’mere.”

Cahara barely had time to blink before you’d launched yourself into his lap, trembling arms wrapped around him as tight as they could go. He froze for a moment; startled by how quickly you’d moved (he sometimes forgot you could be so fast) his arms finally coming up to pull you in closer.

He hummed softly to you a while, a song from when he was young, lightly rocking the both of you as you tried to relax in what he hoped was a safe room. The two of you had gotten separated from Ragnvaldr and Enki one, no, two a few days ago and had been running since. You were visibly exhausted and Cahara worried you wouldn’t be able to run much longer.

With any luck, one of them would spot one of the markings Cahara had left around the dungeons, coded messages meant to guide them to one hiding place or another. Hopefully they’d find the right one. He huffed a quiet laugh into your hair as he pictured Enki angrily decoding each message they find, spurring Ragnvaldr onward so he could scold the two of you for getting so lost. That was one angry rant he’d be happy to listen to, he decided, as long as it meant you were all back together.

Cahara hugged you a little tighter, relieved that you seemed to be getting some rest. He tried - and failed - to stop his wince as he adjusted the bandages covering the mangled, bloody stump of his right wrist, one simple phrase repeating in his head.

“I’m scared too”

#cahara x reader #cahara fluff #fear and hunger x reader #funger x reader #i was legit in the bathroom when this scene popped into my head so i had to just try and remember all of it until I could write it #you can imagine my suffering #anyway *sprinkles fic on the ground like birdseed* come eat you #little funger gremlins!!!!!#no beta we die like men #idk where this was going #i just like writing my Little Scenes(tm)

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 1 year

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Short Prompt #2

TW: None!

"Why?" Hero breathes out incredulously. "Do you keep following me everywhere, to the point that you're becoming exclusively the only criminal I fight? Do you really hate me that much?"

Villain crosses the street, destroying any space between them. They let out a soft, musical laugh as they tilt the crime-fighter's chin up with a gloved hand, forcing them to meet their gaze. "Maybe little hero, it's because I don't."

They revel in the almost confused look colouring the crime-stopper's features and the bright red flush highlighting their face as they slowly short-circuit.

"I love you," they whisper, voice velvety and passionate, their lips almost brushing the hero's ear.

Hero's heart had never beat faster. They never knew it was even capable of reaching such a speed.

Notes: To the ppl who sent asks in my inbox, I promise I'm not ignoring you, just give me some time! And thank you for the asks! 💙💙

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-whump @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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finleycannotdraw · 1 year

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these are super unfinished but I’m in a snuggly mood. there will be more

#geraskier #finley cannot draw #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #picture on the left was so fun to draw I think I will make my netflix geralt design Bigger #look I KNOW joey and henry are similar in size I KNOW the netflix boys could very honestly share clothes #but in my brain geralt is Big and Buff and jaskier is a little feral gremlin #the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanart #im writing a fic where they snuggle quite a lot so. mmmmmmm #snuggles #I love them

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shirozora-draws · 1 year

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*emerges from 3 straight months of writing* Oh god what the fuck what the fuck what the fuck how does arting work what the fuck what the fuck what the fuckkkkkkk-

I'm so glad I didn't go ahead and post with an earlier fuglier sketch of this which is based on something I scribbled in my tiny sketchbook while at L.A. Comic Con earlier this month. Anyway, warmup sketch for something incredibly ridiculous I hope to work on and finish before the end of the year... among a fuckton of otherthings I hope to finish either before the end of the year or before Season 3 of the Mando Show airs. Rest in fucking pieces, self.

#shirozora draws #dinluke #skydalorian #lukedin #din djarin #luke skywalker #grogu #the mandalorian #star wars #just a little sketch to remember how the fuck sketching even works #which is the first step in remembering how arting works #after writing nonstop for months I need a fucking break holy shit #anyway have a nice loose scribble #which has only confirmed that this ship still has a death grip on my soul #very shaped coparents to the gremlin magical baby is what i'm all about

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the-cookie-of-doom · 4 months

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“We should get cleaned up.”

They’re both sweaty and sticky, and Kim is dripping come. He squeezes his thighs together in an effort to keep it from leaking onto Chay’s bedsheets. Not that he won’t have to change them anyway, but it feels more illicit, having to see such stark evidence of their coupling.

Kim lets Chay pull him up off the bed and take him to the bathroom, stopping only long enough to pull on their boxers. There’s that sticky, wet feeling again, as Kim leaks into the cotton. It makes his face hot. After everything they’ve done tonight—that’s definitely what gets to him the most. He let Chay come inside him.

What was I thinking? Kim laughs to himself, smiling at the questioning look Chay gives him, and shakes his head. Better not to embarrass the boy any further.

“Still okay?” Chay asks him beneath the hot spray of water. Of course they’re showering together; Chay is expectedly clingy after losing his virginity, and if Kim is being honest with himself, so is he. He doesn’t want Chay out of his sight. “You don’t re—”

“Still okay,” Kim answers. He leans into Chay, into his steady warmth. “That was great.”

“Oh. Good. Really good.”

“What about you?” Kim grins. “Any regrets?”

“Um, no, no, definitely not!” He had his bare cock inside of Kim not ten minutes ago, and he’s still so bashful.

So cute.

Kim lets Chay crowd him against the wall, kissing him, hands wandering all over his body.

"I was actually wondering—hoping—if we—if maybe we can do it again?”

“Right now?” Kim wouldn’t be opposed, but they both just came. Chay’s eighteen and there’s something to be said for teen refractory periods, but there’s no way he’s ready to go again so soon. No way.

Except Chay tilts his hips into Kim, and sure enough, his cock presses a hard line against his pelvis.

“I mean, if you want to? I meant later, in the future, whenever, but—yeah," Chay breathes, "Yeah, right now. That would be really good, too.”

Kim is pretty sure he would let Chay do just about anything to him right now, up to and including turning him around and pushing him up against the wall. Which is exactly what he does. He pulls Kim back by his hips, makes him present, and presses up close behind him. Let’s Kim feel his cock, hard and dripping, pressing against his ass.

“Still sure?”

Kim smiles. “Yes, Chay, stop asking me, already.” Kim is past the point of pretending he doesn’t want this just as badly as Chay does, but he’s starting to think Chay gets a kick out of making him say it. Brat.

#cookie writes #kimchay #have a lil taste of the smut im working on #chay just lost his virginity and he's going to make it Kim's problem #kim has created a MONSTER #an insatiable little gremlin that wants his ass 24/7 #kim is NOT complaining #also other cookie and bard this is part of the Attic Wife Fic #>: )

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egginfroggin · 10 months

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Loving the mental image of Sabi literally falling onto Gaeric's back out of nowhere when she wants to play. He's, like, bent over and pulling sand radishes out of the ground, or something, and she just *FWUMP* falls onto him.

He tries to pull her off and she twists around like the slippery kid she is to avoid being pulled away. It's like trying to wrangle a snake.

Gaeric finally manages to pull her off and holds her out, dangling by her hood, asking what in Sinnoh's Space she wants now.

To be thrown into the air. Uppies, she wants uppies, basically.

"Pleeeeeeeeeease, Gaeric?" she asks, giving him the biggest, shiniest, cutest eyes that are more irresistible than the pleading eyes Lord Avalugg's baby Bergmite give him when they want cuddles.

Fine, he'll toss her around -- gently -- but only if she helps him pick up the radishes he dropped when she fell on him.

She proceeds to gather them up and then take off, effectively roping him into a game of chase.

Absolute shenanigans.

#pokemon #egginfroggintalkin #eggin's writings #warden gaeric #warden sabi #here have some more gremlin and gremlin caretaker times #lord braviary is an enabler #gleefully drops her onto gaeric like 'here you go she's your problem now'#not that he doesn't love his little warden #he just knows that sabi loves being gaeric's problem #sabi wants uppies

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radioactivepeasant · 1 month

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Snippets: Free Day Friday

Fragile Things (the one where Damas time traveled)

Spargus: a month and a half after Damas rescued Jak from Haven.

Jak seemed to have been waiting for him -- unless he had been stealing dates from the palms in the throne room again, which was a very real possibility.

Damas ruled this out when he saw the conflicted look on the boy's face.

"You're up here early," he said by way of greeting, "I thought you were going to join the field trip to Tributary to get parts for your talk-box."

Jak shrugged and hopped from one stepping stone to the next. "That's later. Had to ask you something first."

He looked...nervous. Like he didn't really want to ask, but couldn't bear to hold the question in.

"Ask away, little one." Damas tousled Jak's hair as he passed him.

He was never going to get over how small Jak was at thirteen. The Jak he knew before almost always managed to dodge him. This Jak never saw him coming. Stranger, this Jak never minded. The Before Jak soaked up any little scrap of kindness with a painful desperation, and so did the Present Jak. But this one didn't shy away from touch. Sometimes he even ambushed Damas in the market to hug him playfully and then run off to get into more trouble.

The second he'd turned to face Jak, the question was flying out of the boy's hands.

"Are you actually my father or something?"

He cringed.

"Sorry. It's just- Never had anybody help me like you, except Daxter."

He didn't use exactly the same signing dialect that Spargus used. It was faster, and a little hard to distinguish tense indicators sometimes, but not so different that Damas couldn't work out what he meant. Jak vocalized sometimes, when he felt comfortable, but they were sounds more than language. And Damas did remember Jak telling him before that he'd spent much of his childhood nonverbal. But it was more jarring than he'd expected when it came from a smaller, softer face. One that reminded him, over and over, of Mar.

"I-"

"And- and Samos always helped Keira but not me and Dax because we weren't his kids, so I couldn't figure out why you're so nice to me if you're not like, y'know, my-" Jak's face reddened and his signs became small and faster. "My dad or something. Sorry. Sorrysorry just forget it."

Damas blinked and realized he'd stopped breathing for a moment. He took a breath and slowly lowered himself to sit on the dais, waving Jak over to sit beside him.

"No, nonono don't apologize. It's- I've been trying to think of how to tell you this for weeks. It's just...going to sound strange."

"As strange as going through a giant transport ring and time going weird?" Jak asked as he gingerly sat down.

"Oh, absolutely." Damas rubbed his chin and glanced at Jak from the corner of his eye.

"I...do not know how closely we are related, to tell you the truth. But the longer you're here, the more certain I become that we do share blood. I just...don't know how many generations back our common ancestor is."

It was the only explanation he could think of for why Jak resembled Mar so closely. Why he looked at him sometimes and saw both of his sons in one face. Why the boy had the same prism-potential in channeling.

"Oh." Jak sat up a little straighter. "Really? I thought I didn't have any family! I mean, there's Uncle, but he's gone all the time."

Damas cleared his throat awkwardly. "There's ah, there's something else."

"What is it?" Now far less tense, Jak leaned in eagerly.

"I...do not know how to explain it, truthfully," Damas sighed, "But I...somehow I lived three years into the future, or saw a vision -- I'm beginning to wonder which it was -- and in that future you- you were there. You- I had taken you in as my own son."

Jak tilted his head, then his eyes flew wide. His mouth dropped open a little. "You saw me? And I was your kid on purpose?!"

"On purpose," Damas agreed, smiling a little at the turn of phrase.

"That's why you came to attack that commander? You were actually looking for me?" Jak scooted closer, and an eager expression began to replace his slightly nervous one.

"Yes," Damas answered gravely, "Because I had seen my future son and I could never leave him behind, even if he didn't know me."

even if you're not interested in being family this time. As long as you're safe, I'm happy- just as long as you're safe!

Jak made a thoughtful sound and propped his chin up on his fists. For a worryingly long time he stared off into space, thinking. Then he smiled, bright and innocent.

"Oh, okay."

Damas blinked. "Okay?"

"Yeah. I was just wondering. I'm glad I asked." He hopped to his feet and stretched.

"You're way nicer than Samos is. I'd rather you be my dad than him."

Damas shoved away memories of a certain Arena debacle. "I...certainly hope to live up to your expectations, my boy."

"Also, it would be weird if Samos tried to be my dad because he's been mean. And because then Keira would be my sister and I don't think she'd like that. I wouldn't either."

The child hopped down the stairs and balanced on one foot on the stepping stones. He pretended to wobble before grinning and hopping to the next stone.

"I'm gonna go to the field trip thing now." Jak beamed and waved. "Bye Damas!"

He all but bounced to the elevator, humming happily.

Damas stayed sitting, not entirely sure what had just happened.

"Well," he said aloud, "that could've gone worse."

#fic prompts #writing prompts #free day Friday #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #fragile things au #time travel damas #tpl Jak #damas is used to withdrawn traumatized jak #he doesn't know what to do with this bubbly gremlin #damas has been worried about how to broach the topic with Jak this whole time #and then the kid is like 'so are you my dad or what' and damas does a spit-take #he's a little menace but he means well

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