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#someone make this a fic i BEG

allthegothihopgirls · 20 days

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time loop au where jason's stuck reliving the day of his death. he wakes up already trapped in that abandoned warehouse, and has to ensure that bruce is able to find him before the bomb goes off, or escape and locate him himself.

he tries so hard and exhausts almost every plan he's been able to think of, at the same time experiencing every single variation of joker torture and then some. there was even one day where joker wasn't his captor at all, batman was. he's lived through hundreds of days of it before he finally breaks the loop.

and the way he does it is by doing nothing at all, and letting himself die with no hope in the possibility of bruce saving him.

#+ the implication that on that one day batman was his captor. jason still had hope that he'd save him somehow #bonus points if it turns out the time loop was the trial the lazarus pit put him through to revive him #was thinking about that one movie 'happy death day'#someone make this a fic i BEG #jason todd #dc comics #dcu #dc #joker #dc batman #time loop #robin #red hood #gothihop speaks

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tomurakii · 5 months

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I like bloodweave. Okay. But I DON'T like the version of them in fanfic where Astarion is a dick and Gale is like. Whining and pleading for him to be emotionally vulnerable (or just. Nice to him) prior to the relationship being established. Because that is just not accurate. Gale needs the player to express interest in him during his weave-teaching scene before he even considers hitting on them properly. Gale is entirely resigned to his fate and needs someone else to pull him away from it. Gale only starts being sweet and romantic and devoted after you accept his love confession and give him hope for the future. Gale says fuck all and then slinks away to cry privately if you break up with him.

Like he isn't chasing after people lmao. He isn't dropping to his knees and crying about anything much less this dickhead he met a week ago. He is overwhelmingly passive about literally everything personal to him up to and including his own death (provided there are no casualties/there is a good reason) until after the player expresses that they care about him. Astarion is not doing that in any of these fics.

Like Gale is friendly and a dork and doesn't wanna get murdered but he fully has a suicide plan. He thought the artefacts would help him survive but he didn't believe he'd ever truly live again. If Gale confessed and Astarion said/did like one (1) mean thing afterward Gale's romance is closed off forever. He's wandering into the forest to cry. He's killing himself immediately. His fragile ego and self worth can't take it. You have to understand that when we joke about him being pathetic it's not bc he's like. Sopping wet and chasing people down and begging for a scrap of attention. It's because he craves affection but would literally rather die than ask or even hope for it until someone else forces that hope back into his serotonin-deficient tadpole brain.

#i feel like u can tell when a bloodweave fic is written by an astarion stan vs a gale stan lol #because the astarion stans are just using gale as a vessel for like. their sopping wet meow meow #who screams and cries until astarion becomes emotionally vulnerable with them #which gale would not do. realistic bloodweave is astarion tries to fuck him in act 1 and he refuses because of the orb #and then astarion is like “boo what the fuck. change of plans” and gale is like “okay” and they never speak of it again lol #anyway #please god the gale characterisation in this place. half of you make him the soppiest most pathetic loser and the other half make him evil #he's not ACTUALLY a loser. when i joke about it the reason its funny is because its not true #hes just a regular guy with depression lol. hes not out here debasing himself begging for some old twink to care abt him #bg3 #gale dekarios #bloodweave #gale of waterdeep #does this make sense. i havent slept #i just mean that if you want gale to be sappy he needs to have like. prior assurance that his feelings are reciprocated #because if he doesnt have that and astarion is a dick to him he WILL just give up on the relationship #like hes not hunting people down after they deliberately upset him. i see so many fics where they create tension by lime #*like #having astarion openly fuck someone else after establishing a sort-of relationship with gale. for the drama #like hey. gale fully dumps you if you do that in game!! you have no way to convince him not to. he will dump astarion for that permanently

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womp-womp-waa · 1 month

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This has been plaguing my mind for ages.

Right so we can all agree that the recruits on Chorus are only soldiers because their parents are dead. So they're orphans and don't have any parental figure.

Now imagine that your them. That you don't have anyone to look up to and that you scared and confused while having to fight for your life. But then, this guy called Washington comes in (and let's be honest Tucker probably told people stories about Wash so they all think he's a hero) and he starts teaching you how to fight and how to survive. You no longer feel helpless in this war.

And because their all orphans they would start to look up to Wash and this is absolutely helped by all the stories they've heard of him. So I just imagine them all seeing Wash as a father figure and someone to help them when their lost.

This is the part that got stuck in my head, so they all see Wash as a father figure and I can just imagine on Father's Day they all just give him gifts. Since they're in a war they couldn't buy him anything so they all spent time making him something from scratch. Now some gifts are made better then others but that's not what matters.

And I can just imagine Wash preparing for a training session with all the recruits and he expects them to all be tired and not wanting to do the training like always, but then is shocked when each one of them hand him a present. Some of them aren't well made, but he doesn't care whatsoever. He treats them like he treats all of Caboose's drawings, he treasures each present that is given to him.

I just find this idea so cute and how after the training session he would walk out with a handful of presents as he tried to take them all to his room without dropping any.

#agent washington #rvb wash #red vs blue #Rvb #chorus #Rvb Chorus #I just found it rlly cute #PLEASE SOMEONE MAKE A FIC OF THIS #I'M BEGGING YOU

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befuddled-calico-whump · 5 months

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cw: aftermath of whump, implied abuse, fantasy slavery, violence, manhandling.

based on this prompt by @howls-ghost

"Trite details bore me. I'll leave it to you to complete, and complete quickly," said Prince Acacius.

"I've had enough of your dimwitted blathering. See yourself to the door," said Prince Acacius.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

Laith was sick of it. Sick of the arrogant little brat prancing around the palace like he was already king. They hated Acacius and his cold, dismissive attitude. The spoiled twat didn't know a thing about running a kingdom, and wouldn't know humility if it bit him on the nose.

The only reason the country wasn't already in ruins was due to the competence of Laith and the rest of the high council. Even the regent, as good a man he was, was taken out of commission by Acacius, forced to keep the aloof young man at his side at all hours for supposed education. Not that Laith believed Acacius absorbed any of it. He was a horrid prince, and he'd make a horrid king.

And Laith intended to do something about it.

It started as something small and reasonable; a daydream about teaching the prince a lesson, of having him whipped for insolence, or beaten in the streets, or simply pushed off the balcony.

But none of those were realistic dreams, and none of those were enough. Acacius needed a punishment that would stick, something scarring, something humiliating.

The thoughts danced across Laith's mind through all their waking hours, turning sharper and more creative with every insult from the rotten prince.

But then, they thought, why bother with a mere punishment? Why not be rid of the arrogant heir for good? Death was too quick for his poisoned heart, but there were alternatives. Slavers in the West and enemies in the North, and either faction would jump at the chance to own the pretty prince. Should Laith's goal be realized, it would do more than sate their need for justice; it would spare the kingdom from a heartless ruler.

They'd lock him in a cell with no sunlight for a year. They'd remove his acrid tongue, put out his disdainful eyes, somehow they'd hurt him in a way that mattered.

They took their time making the arrangements; letters delivered in secret, coded messages, quiet plans and plots to cover the prince's upcoming disappearance. At last, the hour was drawing near. At last, Acacius would get all that he deserved.

But of course, Laith would have their fun with him first.

They came upon the royal in the dead of night. Laith had been making note of Acacius's movements, and by now they knew to expect the young man's midnight journey to the library. Too good to be seen there in daylight hours, when servants were dusting and lesser lords were reading. Too good to even peruse the shelves alongside those he deemed as unworthy.

Laith fell upon the prince as soon as he reached the library doors, wrapping their arm tight around a torso clad in a loose silk shirt, their other hand clamped over Acacius's mouth to dampen his startled cry. The prince made fearful noises beneath their hand, but there was no time to savor the sound. Laith knew they must move swiftly or risk alerting the night watch.

They slammed the prince's head into the heavy oak door behind him. Once, twice, and then their royal prisoner's struggling lessened. Laith forced him to the ground, stuffing a wad of cloth into his mouth and tying it in place with a cord. That same cord trailed down from the prince's head to wind around his wrists, then back up again to circle his throat, forming a makeshift collar and leash to better Laith's control of him. He tugged harshly at the rope, and the dazed prince stumbled to his feet, whimpering softly from behind the gag.

There was no haughtiness in his eyes, only something meek and fearful. It was nearly enough to make Laith second-guess their plans, but their memories of the man they knew Acacius to be strengthened their resolve.

They would not fall for this docile ruse. They knew the truth.

Laith delved deeper into the castle, making for one of the secret passages in the stone that would lead them outside the keep. There was a cottage at the edge of the woods, overlooking the river that ran alongside the castle's walls. A peasant girl had sighted it after Laith offered her a penny to find a covert location. It was perfect; well away from anyone who could hear them, and the river would make an easy path for the slavers' skiff.

They hauled Acacius into the cottage, unable to resist giving the prince a sharp kick in the back that sent him tumbling to the ground. The slavers weren't set to arrive until just before sunrise. Laith had nearly an hour to get revenge for every petty insult that had ever been flung their way.

Laith dropped a knee into the prince's chest, holding his head in place while he removed the gag.

Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith refused to let the act sway them. If anything, it only fueled their fire. How dare this impudent brat act like this was unearned? Now safe behind a closed door, Laith let their fury burn, raining fists and kicks down on the prince's helpless form, relishing every muffled cry. No, they shouldn't be muffled. They wanted to hear Acacius plead for mercy.

"N-nnh please... Please don't," the shaky words left Acacius's throat with the balled-up cloth. Laith answered him with another blow, and the prince squeezed his eyes shut. When they opened again, there was a distant look to them, tears trickling from the corners.

No matter. Soon they'd be rid of him for good.

Small whimpers and gasps left Acacius's throat as Laith continued the beating, but aside from a few weak pleas, the prince didn't speak, or even look their way. Like he was only waiting for it to end. Their blows slowed, the enjoyment fading as the royal seemed to detach himself from the moment. Laith huffed. Even bound and beaten, Acacius was still ruining their day.

Ignoring the blank look on the prince's face, Laith drew their knife, cutting away Acacius's clothing. Even if that didn't get a reaction, it served the practical purpose of making things a shade easier on the slavers.

The prince lay very still, his breaths small and shaky as Laith removed the ruined clothing. And underneath the silk... Laith was unprepared for what was underneath the silk.

Old bruises covered Acacius's torso, scars layered beneath, some fresher than others. The wounds didn't stop there; more scars scattered the prince's legs, some framed in a sickly yellow-green.

"What is this?" Laith whispered, the question half-directed at themselves. Acacius didn't answer, staring up at the ceiling with eyes that looked glazed over.

Seeing another wound on their prisoner's shoulder, this one oddly shaped, Laith grabbed Acacius's upper arm and rolled him onto his stomach. The prince answered the action with a startled cry.

"N-no, please, please don't---"

"Shut up," Laith hissed, taking in the prince's back. It seemed the brat had been whipped before, and on more than one occasion by the looks of it. They couldn't say whether the dark feeling welling up in them was more akin to pity, or bitterness that they hadn't been able to witness the lashings themselves.

Starker than the whip scars was the image burned into Acacius's back. An intricate pattern, asymmetrical and varied in color, like its artist had begun months or even years ago and was still perfecting it. The newest mark was still a bright, skinless red, as if it had been smouldering mere hours ago.

Laith let out a disgusted sigh, turning their back on the sniveling prince. It seemed Acacius had been getting what he'd deserved for some time now, but it had done little to improve his attitude. Who had done this to him? Could it have been the regent? Why was pity seeping into them, like poison from a soured wound?

Acacius didn't deserve their pity. Wounded or not, he still paraded the palace ground like a bejeweled goose, hissing and biting at anyone he seemed lesser.

But why? came a small voice inside them. Why put on such an arrogant mask?

It didn't matter. Wounded or not, the prince should have better respected Laith and their peers.

There was a sharp rap on the door, and Laith pushed it open an inch to peer out into the darkness. A pale woman with a shaved head stood on the other side, wearing clothing that was clearly foreign, despite its simplicity.

"Here to collect your gift?" they said, and the woman smiled.

"Aye. The North'll pay a pretty penny for your little heir."

"Wonderful," Laith said, but the word felt insincere. They couldn't let themselves doubt their plans now, the deed was nearly done. They opened the door further. "Take him then. Let's have this over with."

Acacius lay still on the ground, though his hands were trembling. He'd ceased his begging and was now crying softly and hells, Laith couldn't stand to hear it.

They bent over the prince, grabbing a fistful of his hair and roughly stuffing the gag back into his mouth to muffle that damned pathetic noise.

"Take him," they said again, more insistently. "Take him and be gone."

"S'wrong with his back?"

"I don't know." Laith shook their head. "Take him."

"Not a word of me," they said. "You'll make a fortune off him, all I ask is my name and face remain unknown."

"Alright, alright." The woman seized the rope, the leash Laith had formed, and tugged on it, forcing the prince to his feet. Acacius's eyes were teary and pleading, but Laith turned their back on him.

"Your wish is my command," the woman chuckled, leading the prince towards the rocky shore, where her boat lay waiting. A sob escaped Acacius as he passed the threshold.

"Wait." Hells, what were they saying? They wanted nothing more to do with the royal. They needed him gone, but when the prince turned back to look at them, the flash of hope in his eyes wrenched in their gut.

Those damned eyes. Those haughty, arrogant, judging eyes.

"Remember your place," said Prince Acacius.

"Nevermind," Laith said quickly. "Go. Get him out of here."

The woman tugged on the leash, nearly causing the bound royal to stumble. Fresh tears wet Acacius's cheeks, but Laith looked away, pretended not to see.

They could pretend a lot of things. Surprise at the prince's sudden disappearance, sorrow and outrage at his captivity in the enemy North. For themselves, they'd pretend they were satisfied, that they'd never seen Acacius's scars.

And as they watched the skiff disappear on the dark waters of the river, they pretended they had no regrets.

#:) we love some arrogant royal suffering #royal whump #anyways i can no way afford to make this a series lol so it'll probably sit at a one-off for a very long time (if i even write more at all)#ooh honestly if we wanna play a game of 'whump telephone' or pass the page or whatever someone else can write the next part #and then another person can write the next part #and so on #those are fun i do them with my sister sometimes #anyways GREAT prompt thank you howls-ghost #royal whumpee #captivity #past torture #whump fic #fantasy whump #beating #begging

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inkoo000 · 2 months

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I don't post much art on here, but heres a Dez I drew from forever ago<3

I love the girls in ibvs so much, and I think they should be more appreciated as they are criminally underrated, especially my love Dez. ⚡️⭐️

#ibvs #isaac beamer versus the supernatural #Dez Gonzalez #Desiree Gonzalez #my art #international women's day #the girls are always my favs to draw #guys I'm begging for content of them 💔#PLS SOMEONE MAKE A DEZ FIC #make it abt her and monika getting together and running off into the sunset #I love you Dez #no one understands you like I do #cod fish art

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lady-stardust-incarnate · 4 months

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okokok hear me out I've just seen a tiktok pushing remus lupin as James Acaster on taskmaster, therefore I'm thinking what if someone wrote the marauders in taskmaster, maybe with regulus as the taskmaster??

but also who would be little Alex horne (the guy that just gets bullies for the whole show and is also very gay with the taskmaster) because me personally I'm thinking james or have evan as the taskmaster and barty as Alex horne

someone please write this I'm begging I would literally pay for it or if anyone knows a fic please send it to me

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muirmarie · 6 days

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Title: just don't feel like fighting anymore

Fandom: Star Trek: The Original Series

Ship: McCoy/Spock (Spones)

Rating / Warning: T / no warnings

Word Count: ~3k

[This is another dopamine pinch hit (aka gift fic)]

____________

Post "All Our Yesterdays," McCoy thinks he probably needs to have a talk with Spock about whether his choices have made Spock uncomfortable.

Spock also wants to talk about some of McCoy's choices, but his are a little more of the "stop being a martyr" variety.

____________

“Okay,” McCoy says, hating how flustered he feels, hating how Spock still has him pinned in place with his hands, with his gaze, with his words. “Okay, good, so we talked about it and now we're—”

“I'm not finished,” Spock says, the corner of his mouth twitching up in a smile as McCoy groans.

#spones #star trek #star trek the original series #star trek tos #leonard mccoy #spock #fic #mine #flirting by forcing someone to hear you say nice things about them (even if they're begging you to stop <3)#(i have also been known to flirt this way lmaoooo - it is......EXTREMELY satisfying to make someone blush w/ compliments 😌)#st:tos

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benihime-ayoshi · 2 months

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Y,know, I kinda wanna see a MDZS reaction fic where the people watching are the cultivation world from the Yilìng Làozū era, in about the Qiongqi Path, see the future in... let's say, 200 years, a time when the Wens just became a part of history and Yilìng Làozū is just an old tale, the new Xue Chonghai, a boogie man if you will.

They also are warned that some of them reincarnated there (HanGuang-Jun, Jiang WanYin, Nie MingJue and WWX must be included). They're seeing a reflex of their generation, the Jins being the new Wens, just as WWX said.

This generation then deals with it the exact same way they did, including a new Yilìng Làozū and a new version of Jins, but make it another Great Sect. Then they watch the same thing happening further in the future, rinse and repeat, again and again, untill all the Great Sects fall and new ones take places.

They see that this cycle keeps happening, and are all horrified. Wondering, what happened for this to keep happening??? Why is the future so bleak? How can we fix this?

Sometime while they're watching, WWX should go and say "See? This is what happens when you just follow the loudest voice instead of doing what's right. This is why you should investigate what's happening by yourself, why you make sure that nobody is doing anything wrong."

Now they see the consequences of their actions.

I leave to the writer to end it however they want-

#mdzs #wei wuxian #lan wangji #mo dao zu shi #writing prompt #I wanna see a reaction fic damn it #if someone actually makes it Imma be so happy #also #PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF SOMEONE DOES IT #i beg of you #since I lack the confidence to write it myself-#Aaight edited bcz wtaf is so wrong with my eyes that I didn't spot “Nice MingJue”-

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interlvgos · 5 months

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snippet of upcoming britcedes hand kink fic courtesy of urs truly (nsfw under the cut)

“Easy, Georgie,” Lewis says, and — fuck. It makes George's heart swell, beating rapidly in his chest, thundering blood around his ears because Lewis sounds so soft, so fond, that George almost wants to reopen his eyes just to watch Lewis watching him, to see what he’d find there. “I’ve got you.” George moans, tongue swirling around Lewis’ fingers, mapping his knuckles and the length of them. He sucks them down, wrapping his mouth tighter, hollowing his cheeks when he looks up at Lewis, catches his eye the way he knows he likes. When they’d first started — whatever this is, George hadn’t known, then, what Lewis likes. Sure, he could draw on past experience with other guys, limited as it is; knows how to use his tongue, to hold his legs open at his thighs, to put himself on display, open and wanting. Slowly, he’d unravelled the intricacies of Lewis’ wants because, for some reason, they’re important to him. He wants to know what Lewis wants, the big and the little, wants to know so he can give it all up and Lewis can — can be proud of him, maybe. Will keep wanting him. It’s all a little bit pathetic, George knows, and yet. It’s all he wants. It’s all he can think about.

george obsessed w lewis' hands mm thank u very much

#i beg this makes its way out of the drafts pleaseeeee @ me #someone scream ab it with me i need to !!!!!!!! TALK AB IT #coral chats shit #gewis #fic snippet #no idea what this fic is but. obsessed w it personally #by me

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matrixian · 5 months

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would anyone do Wonka x Male!Reader because I am in desperate needs of atleast one fic and I would read it a bunch of times

[Edit : Maybe I could make some fics of my own? I don't think I'm ready yet but eventually I may post some fics]

#wonka 2023 #wonka movie #wonka #please i beg of someone to make a Wonka x Male!reader fic because i would read it again and again and again and agai #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #all the other Wonka x reader fics i see are just fem!reader and rarely gn!reader and i havent even seen one wonka x male!reader

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swag696942069 · 7 months

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Singer Regulus Black who bleached dyed his hair during a mental breakdown two hours before a show and now has to go out and perform for hours with a shit bleach job

#based on that one fic #can't remember the name #but oh ma god #i need this #someone make fanart #please #i beg #regulus black #singer regulus black #james potter #sirius black #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #remus lupin #peter pettigrew #mary macdonald #pandora rosier #lily evans #marlene mckinnon

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