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gffa · 4 months

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It has been about eight months since I came back to BATFAMILY fic and this will be my ninth set of recs, which means I'm at about 500 or so for this one fandom, which is kind of blowing my mind a little, but also tracks pretty well, given how amazing the fic in the fandom can be. There's just so much that's scratching the itch of softer Batfam content or really digging into the angsty possibilities or exploring the characters in ways the source material won't/can't or just finding a dozen different ways to hit my id straight on and make it such a fun, exciting experience to be swimming through all this amazing fic. And, in that vein, yeah I may have a Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Problem, but I also have Dick Grayson Is The Most Important Guy In The World Solutions which is basically a metric truckload of fic by incredible authors and trying to lure more people into crying about these characters with me because I AM CRYING A LOT ABOUT THEM because fandom has PROVIDED ME WITH THE TOOLS TO DRAG YOU IN AND I AM GOING TO USE THEM. And, okay, I've got some good Jason, Tim, Damian, Babs, Steph, and Bruce stuff in there, too. Fandom is great at helping me get some really great variety in, too! Basically ALL THE BATS ARE MY LOVES AND I WANT TO DRAG OTHERS IN WITH ME.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BABY DICK IS THE CUTEST FERAL ROBIN I'M NOT HEARING ANY ARGUMENTS: ✦ Robin is Looking for a Sidekick by Writer_loves_tropes, dick & bruce, 4k Eight year old Dick Grayson is already a crime fighting Robin and he needs a sidekick. Batman seems like he would be a good choice. Robin and Batman has a nice ring to it. Bruce has thoughts about that. aka, How could Bruce resist adopting this tiny child? ✦ The Pancake Predicament by Lightsider, dick & bruce & alfred, 2.1k On his second Father's Day at Wayne Manor, Dick decides to make pancakes. -or- The reason Dick's not allowed unsupervised kitchen use, which isn't fair. The pancakes were delicious, and he was 10! ✦ Counting Elephants by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & alfred, 3k When kidnappers break into the manor, Dick runs straight to Alfred. Alfred will do anything to protect his family. Or, Dick gets scared, and Alfred is a badass. ✦ World's Finest: Christmas Morning by WingFeathers, dick & bruce/clark & ma kent & alfred & cast, 9k Twelve hours of a Christmas morning in Gotham: Bruce foregoes sleep and grapples with change, Clark navigates Christmas at Wayne Manor and his boyfriend's emotional distance, and Dick gets the best presents. Also: Ma and Pa Kent and Alfred are the greatest. ✦ There is a Monster at the End of This Book by Trekkele, dick & bruce & cast, vampires, 2.6k There was something deeply wrong with Bruce Wayne. This wasn’t exactly news, of course. Opening any one of the local Gotham tabloids would give you plenty of evidence to back his claims up, but Tyler liked to think his profession gave him an edge, an added insight into the strangeness that was Gotham’s ‘beloved billionaire’. ✦ Safe by Jinmukang, dick & bruce, 2.5k Or, a baby Robin wakes up very lost and very alone in the middle of Gotham. ✦ Stars, Hide Your Fires by FidotheFinch, dick & bruce, 10.8k Dick Grayson doesn't want to leave the circus he's called home his entire life. When he overhears Pop Haly talking to a strange man about sending Dick away for 'training,' he decides he'll do whatever he can to stop it. Even if he has to make a deal with a demon. ✦ It's who I am by Tiredteengaer, dick & bruce & wally & artemis & conner & kaldur & m'gann & cast, 44k how each member of the team found out Robin's real identity. ✦ Drowning, Headaches, and being beaten by Penguin by PandasandDucks1, dick & bruce & wally & artemis, 1.7k He couldn’t breathe. ✦ The Eldest Wayne's by Remarcely, dick & bruce & alfred & cast, 3k ‘With all their talks about how to behave, Bruce had the upmost faith in Dick to talk to the other Gala-attenders with respect under his supervision. When Dick grew bored and wandered off, entirely unnoticed by a Bruce deep in conversation, he’d be lying if he pretended that faith didn’t waver’ Or Bruce and Dick throughout the years as they slowly learn how to be a family.

BATFAM FIC RECS - ADULT BATSON AND BATDAD ARE MY KRYPTONITE, I FOLD LIKE WET CARDBOARD FOR THEM: ✦ Rebalancing by SirenAlpha, dick & bruce & damian, 2.5k Bruce was back from his trip through time. Dick expected to heal up from surgery, head back to Blüdhaven, and be Nightwing again. He did not expect Bruce to have a discussion on the nature of Batman, Nightwing, and if Robin really only needed one of them. ✦ Capitulate by Antiquity, dick & bruce, 5k After Wally's death, Bruce tries to hold Dick together before he shakes himself apart. ✦ No Good Deed by I_Have_To_Get_Off_This_Planet, dick & bruce, 1.2k While trying to stop a robber, Dick breaks two ribs. It's not a good time. ✦ Superficial Wounds by fleetfoot1, dick & bruce, ~1k Bruce swore softly as he tilted Dick’s face to the side, his gaze flicking down the bruises covering his cheekbone. Dick swallowed, before opening his mouth. “I--” his voice cracked on the syllable. God, he was just so tired of arguing. ✦ fabric (frayed but holding) by Tevya, dick & bruce & cast, 5.1k A few months after Dick returns to speaking terms with Bruce, he gets stuck in Gotham with the flu. ✦ aristocracy by brandywine421, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & alfred, 2.4k "I really wish it was for a different reason. I - need a favor." "There are no favors between us, Dick, you know that," Bruce said, moving around the desk to take the seat beside him. "Tell me." "God, it's so stupid, I - could handle it myself, but - I don't want to. I just want - I just want to forget it ever happened," Dick said. That didn't sound like Dick. "Tell me," he repeated. ✦ Memories Fade by Lady_of_Lorule, dick & bruce & cast, 2.2k “Miss Gordon sent in her daily report and Master Tim called to inform you that he will be in San Francisco for a few days. Also, Master Dick is upstairs.” Bruce froze. “Dick is here?” “Yes, sir.” “I thought he was in Central City visiting Wally West.” Alfred raised an eyebrow, pale eyes piercing. “It seems that he is back, then. I believe he is waiting for you.” ✦ On-Call by motleyfam, dick & bruce & jason & oc & cast, 1.6k Kiran Devabhaktuni, medical doctor and close family friend of the Waynes, agreed to join them for one more Thanksgiving at the Kent Farm. It's a good thing he did, too. ✦ a day before midnight by batofgoodintent (crownedcrusader), dick & bruce, 2.1k After you lose pieces of yourself, they don't always fit back the same. - Post-Ric Grayson.

BATFAM FIC RECS - EVERYBODY LOVES DICK: ✦ the more i look inside (the more you're real to me) by starsonthewalls, dick & bruce & john/mary & tim, 2.8k Dick tensed defensively. “It’s not like I can do anything about that, Dad,” he grumbled, accepting the glass to clear his throat. “You know how B is about patrols.” “And who is ‘B’ supposed to be?” his mom asked. “One of your video game friends?” Dick froze- what did mom mean, who is B? ✦ You Won't Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight, dick & bruce & jason & tim & damian, 5.2k Dick's captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again. ✦ Jason's Gift by Neoinean, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & cast, 17.3k As Dick’s birthday goes from mediocre to bad to worse, he finds himself so wrapped up in the chain of events that he fails to correctly piece together the clues. Will he discover the truth before its too late? ✦ they don't know me and you by konan_konan, dick & bruce & jason & tim & barbara & zatanna & cast, de-aged!dick, 4.5k "The cold helps neutralize him," says Bruce, talking about Dick like he's a threat. "It'll keep him from hurting himself," says Barbara, talking about Dick like he's a child. They're both correct right now, and Jason hates it. ✦ If You Don't Know by TylerM, dick & bruce & jason, 10.2k An exploration of Sick!Dick Grayson from little and big Jason's point of view. Because I honestly don't believe in there ever being too many of the same damn fic.

BATFAM FIC RECS - JASON TODD IS AN ASSHOLE CAT, I'M GONNA THROW HIM AT THE OTHER BATS BECAUSE IT'S FUNNY: ✦ bury me softly by Nokomis, jason & steph, 4k After a tunnel collapse, Stephanie and Jason bond while trapped together.

BATFAM FIC RECS - DICK AND DAMIAN WERE THE BEST BATMAN & ROBIN, I'M NOT HEARING ARGUMENTS ABOUT THAT EITHER: ✦ ties bind none by eryndew, dick & damian & bruce, 2k Bruce discovers a son. Repercussions and choices follow. ✦ restless heart by emavee, dick & damian, 2.3k It’s ridiculous to act like this one weekend really means anything in the grand scheme of things, but he can’t help it. It isn’t fair. He only gets these few days, and now Grayson is up in space fighting aliens or whatever and Damian is alone on the couch watching Jeopardy by himself. Or: Dick goes off world and Damian misses him ✦ Need To Know Basis by WordsAblaze, dick & damian, 1.1k day sixteen, where damian has zero tolerance for dick hiding injuries from him… ✦ a killer time by konan_konan, dick & damian & alfred & bruce, 4.1k The vent cover clatters to the floor, and Dick flings the knife at Croc, trusting that he's going to be a more of a threat than his goons. Croc roars in pain, or maybe just rage, and Dick scrambles toward the vent, Damian already inside, and - And Killer Croc grabs him by the ankle, slams him into the wood. He feels something break, and he gasps, hardly able to catch his breath. Some sort of metallic clang echoes from behind, and he thinks if Damian comes out of the vent and gets us both killed… ✦ as love carries its strength, but not its labels by AlterHarpia, dick & damian, 2.7k Bruce is on a trip beyond Earth’s Solar System for longer than he intended, making Dick and Damian fall into an old pattern. “I'm not Batman.” A mere reminder, perhaps, but when said to Damian it always sounds like an apology.

BATFAM FIC RECS - BATKIDS ALL HAVE MANY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE ALL PETTY ASSHOLES AND/OR WONDERFUL BABIES AND I LOVE THEM WITH MY WHOLE BEING: ✦ a study by bernard dowd by cv_angels, tim/bernard & conner & cassie & bart, 4.8k Bernard opens the laptop, spinning it to face Tim with a flourish. It’s a powerpoint with a truly hideous red background, and Tim feels a moment of relief that Bernard isn’t breaking up with him before he registers the words on the slide. REASONS WHY TIMOTHY DRAKE-WAYNE IS A SUPERHERO, A STUDY BY BERNARD DOWD. ✦ princess carry by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & duke & tam & damian, 3.1k Tim almost gets shot during a public speech, which is a pretty average Tuesday. Being rescued by his civilian boyfriend, however, is not. ✦ beep beep!! by CreamofTomatoSoup, tim/bernard & bruce & dick & jason & tim & cass & duke, 6.1k Bernard learned to drive from his henchman uncle. The last place he expects to use this skill is at a dinner with his boyfriend's family. ✦ little menace by InkpotSprite, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & alfred, de-aged!tim, 16.2k wip "Did a two year old just outrun you?" Jason asked, wanting to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Bruce clenched his jaw. "I didn't want to hurt him." He growled. "Liar!" Tim piped up from under the desk. Jason was starting to like this version of his successor. ✦ It Wasn't Supposed to Be Like This: I wouldn't Change a Thing by Grayson1996, bruce & dick & steph, 4.1k She smiled tightly at him and stiffly beckoned him forward. If Bruce had to guess they weren’t close in the future, or perhaps she just didn’t know him. Regardless he stepped forward, though he didn’t turn to look at the figure on the bed just yet. For a moment the two simply stared at one another before Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. “Here’s where you apologize for pushing me against the wall.” Bruce felt guilt stir at the words despite the fact that she was clearly joking. ✦ in the lungs by hellsreluctantheir, tim & steph & cast, 2.8k It went bad the way things always went bad. All at once. Steph had taken out two thugs (and maybe picked up a sprained wrist though she wasn’t counting her chickens before they hatched) and Tim was almost finished up with his third, when she saw him get launched backwards, head hitting the railing at the side with a resounding clang. She saw him slump to the deck, saw him struggle weakly as the thug pulled him up by his cape and looked at him for a moment, before tossing him directly into the Gotham River.

BATFAM FIC RECS - I SAY THIS IS A BATFAM REC LIST BUT SOMETIMES YOU JUST GOTTA SHOVE THOSE ASSHOLES OUT OF THE WAY AND READ SOME SUPERFIC: ✦ Troublemakers by Kannika, clark & lois & conner, ~1k Introducing Conner and Lois is the worst mistake Clark has made in a long time. Because they're getting along. ✦ oh brother by corvidspectre, conner & lois & jon, 1.2k “So what are you being for Halloween?” Kon had asked when he got to the Kent's place. “Superboy!” Jon smiled, making Lois chuckle under her breath. ✦ Gut Feeling by Ao3time, lois & conner, 18.7k wip Lois Lane rescues a teenager who looks a lot like someone she knows...

BATFAM FIC RECS - TAKE THE ANGST DIAL, TURN IT UP TO ELEVEN, AND BREAK THE KNOB OFF, THAT'S WHAT I'M HERE FOR: ✦ my threads are coming loose by dizarys, dick & talia & cast, ~1k “Oh good, I see both you and Bruce are on the same page about unrealistic expectations for grieving,” muttered Dick. Talia sucked her teeth and turned back to the grave, long hair swinging. The sound was so much like Damian’s iconic tut that fresh tears welled in Dick’s eyes. ✦ Fatherhood; a Knife that Never Stops Cutting by minnow_doodle_doo, bruce & dick & alfred, no powers au, 2.1k There always seemed to be a thread that tied all their histories, from Alfred to Bruce back to Dick. Repeated over and over. And now it seemed that Dick found that the thread had been longer than he first thought. ✦ Tap Out by withthekeyisking, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian, read the tags, 4.8k Dick knows the importance of tapping out in training, so your partner doesn't accidentally hurt you. It becomes instinct, so heavily ingrained in him. He doesn't understand why his brothers don't do it, too. (Until they do, and it's too late.) ✦ A Death in the Family by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & jason, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 12.4k The Joker has killed Jason Todd. Bruce tells Dick immediately, and Dick returns to the manor. Bruce will do anything to keep his remaining son safe and close. Dick thinks it's the grief that's keeping him exhausted. ✦ Car Crashes and Hot Chocolate by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 2.3k Dick almost dies trying to escape Bruce. Neither of them are happy about the outcome, and so they talk about it. This is a follow-up oneshot for A Death in the Family and is set before Into the Gilded Cage. This can technically be read alone, though it does have spoilers for A Death in the Family. ✦ Into the Gilded Cage by PrincessMariana , bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 17.5k Tim investigates if Dick Grayson is being held against his will by Bruce Wayne. He somehow ends up spending the summer with the two at Wayne Manor. It might be a prison for Dick, but the more Tim stays, the less he wants to leave. This follows A Death in the Family, but you don't need to read that to read this. It might be useful, though. ✦ The Third Robin's Flight by PrincessMariana, bruce & dick & tim, yandere!bruce (?), read the tags, 13.7k wip Tim accepts his place as Bruce' third - and most loyal - son. When his mother dies and his father returns to Gotham, Tim once again must pick a side, but Bruce never lets go of his children easily. Meanwhile, Dick struggles with the ramifications of finding the Joker, and Bruce remembers why Batman needs a Robin. This follows Into the Gilded Cage. ✦ Family Crisis by librarylexicon, bruce & dick & tim & cass & steph & leslie & barbara & selina & amy & cast, read the tags, 78.1k wip At the close of the gang war, Batman uncovers an attempted deception concerning the life of his former protégé Stephanie Brown, and suddenly nothing is as important as his family. While Dick seeks absolution, Tim struggles with grief, Cassandra searches for belonging and Steph rebuilds her sense of self, Bruce faces the return of ghosts from his own past and psyche. (War Games AU) ✦ New Again by dustorange, dick & bruce & thomas wayne jr., 10.1k wip “I’m not a good man,” says Thomas. “No," Dick hesitates, then comes closer, "but you're not an old man either." (a.k.a. Earth 3's Thomas Wayne Jr. "helps" Batman and Robin get back to their world, only for Bruce alone to be sent back, leaving Dick stranded in Earth 3—with Thomas.) ✦ not anything, anymore by emavee, dick & bruce, 2k Bruce kicked him out four months ago. Apparently these particular kidnappers didn't get the memo.

✦ dreamer by day by justbeyondstars, dick & bruce & jason & tim, 5.3k In the next room over, Jason and Tim are laughing, and it startles Dick back into his body to remember he’s not alone. He feels impossibly empty, unmovable, untouchable. He almost forgets he's still on the phone until a voice says, “Is there anything I can do for you, Dick? Anything you need to make this easier?” Or: Dick is a lot of things to a lot of people. After getting some bad news, he has to grapple with the fact it might not always be enough. ✦ watching the world go dark by daringyounggrayson, dick & bruce, 3.5k It wasn’t that Dick was suicidal exactly, but if an opportunity came about where he would have to actively save himself from death, he might just let go. He might not be suicidal, but he's not self-preserving either, and it’s becoming a real problem. Luckily, Bruce is a worried parent with a few detective skills. ✦ hold me like water (or hold me like a knife) by dizarys, bruce & dick & tim, 2k Dick's recovery after a amnesiac year as Ric Grayson is taking longer than expected. And has some difficult side effects.

BATFAM FIC RECS - SOMETIMES YOU JUST NEED TO TAKE ALL THE SERIOUSNESS OUT OF THE ROOM AND STAY SOFT FOR AWHILE: ✦ And There Was Only One Bed: Family Edition by RandomReader13, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.7k “You’ve gotta be kidding me.” Dick stood on his toes to peek over Jason’s shoulder into the hotel room and grimaced. “Uh, Bruce…” “There was a mix-up with the reservation,” Bruce grunted. ✦ so everyone's just a fucking scalie huh by destiny919, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass, 1.1k "Birds are animals, Jay." "What the fuck? No. Aren't they basically reptiles?" Jason demands. "First of all, no, you're thinking of dinosaurs, which is what they actually are in the Flintstones. Second of all, reptiles are animals." "Bullshit." "Okay, I..." Tim pinches his nose. "Okay. I think I see the problem here." "Yes, Todd sustained a traumatic brain injury the other night and didn't see fit to inform anyone before we left on this inane trip." ✦ The Batmobile (and other Bat things) by JeanjacketCarf, bruce & dick & clark & justice league, 2k “Batmobile?!” Barry looked incredulous. It was clear he was missing the point of the story. “He called it the Batmobile? Out loud? In front of you?” Clark shrugged. “Yeah, twice. I’m sure I heard it right.” “Batmobile, my god,” Barry said shaking his head. “I can’t believe it.” Or Apparently, the Bat-Man is not a cryptid, he's a guy who gives his stuff silly names ✦ Vampire Bats by Sohotthateveryonedied, bruce & dick & jason & tim & damian & cass & steph & duke & cast, 4.1k Despite the many, many obstacles, having his kids turn into vampires isn’t as tragic as Bruce anticipated it would be. Whenever one of them is grounded, all Bruce has to do is hang a cross on their door and they’re sufficiently contained. And the energy boost has been incredibly helpful on patrols. ✦ Adventures in Batsitting by raven_of_hydecastle, bruce & dick & clark & lois & justice league, 10k wip "What, you're telling me the great Batman couldn't stop a nine-year-old from sneaking out?" Green Lantern scoffed. "At least come up with a believable excuse." It was Batman's turn to scoff. "Like anyone else could do better. If you can keep Robin off the streets for a week, I'll buy you a Porsche." *** AKA The JLA stages an intervention with Batman to get Robin off the streets. it goes downhill from there.

BATFAM FIC RECS - THROW BABY DICK AT BATTISON, C'MON DO IT, IT'LL BE HILARIOUS: ✦ though the sun and sky may fade (all shall be remade) by queenofthestarrrs, dick & bruce & alfred, 1.8k Dick Grayson asks a lot of questions. ✦ My Little Robin by tyrianzzz, jim & dick & bruce, 1.6k After being Partners with the Bat for so long Gordon tries not to question his life choices. Until Robin comes along. ✦ I Wish My Father Had More Sons by shipNslash, bruce & dick & jason & alfred, 9.4k Jason Todd and Dick Grayson, from strangers to brothers to enemies and back again.

#lumi.txt #dc #batfam #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #bruce wayne #conner kent #battison #fic recs #batman fic recs #long post

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angelltheninth · 1 year

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What kind of sex toys do you think Genshin men would use? On themselves or their partner.

Uh... wanna prefix this by saying I have zero, no, negative experience with this. So I'm sorry.

Pairing: Kaeya, Diluc, Itto, Xiao, Gorou, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Capitano, Dainsleif, Cyno, Kaveh, Al-Haitham, Zhongli x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, use of sex toys, teasing, orgasm control, anal sex, fingering, edging, semi-public sex, BDSM

A/N: I feel like... the variety of sex toys is only limited by the human imagination.

REMOTE CONTROLED VIBRATOR - Itto, Childe, Al-Haitham

Likes it because he can both watch you fuck yourself on it but he can also give you a little surprise with it when you start to get too comfortable. One of his hands is always free to pump his cock, or hey, your mouth's not doing much, might as well suck him off. He's doing you a favor by turning the vibrations up, you better make things even for him.

HANDCUFS, COLLARS AND LEASHES - Dottore, Capitano, Dainself

He's more into the control aspect then the playful part of it all but he can be playful too. He tugs on your collar, keeps your body tense right up until you beg him to have mercy on you. He will let up but only to watch you struggle against the cuffs as he fucks the remains of his cum into you before pulling you be your leash into a hot kiss.

DILDO - Kaeya, Pantalone, Zhongli

While he's okay with just watching you use it on yourself he gets a lot more pleasure using it on you combined with him fucking you. This will usually mean him using it to fuck your ass while his cock is busy pumping load after big load of cum into your pretty, wet, tight pussy. Stimulating both your holes at the same time but not allowing you to finish until he does. And you, like a good little slut, obey.

VIBRATING COCK RING - Diluc, Gorou

There's no better feeling for him being overstimulated together with you. He'll get himself right to the edge with the extra help of the vibrations and then stop, completely, prolonging both his and your build up. Then he'll turn on the vibrator again and repeat the process until his dick hurts from how hard it is. Only then will he take the cock ring off and fully sink into the warmth that is your pussy, a pussy that's more then happy to welcome him and his cum.

VIBRATING PANTIES - Xiao, Cyno, Kaveh

With this he can play a lot into his mischievous side, watching you trying to act normal and keep a straight face while he turns the vibrations up. At some point he decides to let you sit on his lap, let you grind against him for relief, and, if it's a relatively quiet place he will shove his hand into your underwear, making you grind against it while he fingers you and presses his hand against your aching and abused clit.

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efangamez · 12 days

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Hi. I'm Efan, and this is an urgent request.

PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU CANNOT ASSIST!

I am a disabled, trans, and queer game designer looking to live again to afford medication, sustained housing, therapy/psychiatry, and some money to save for emergencies.

We have been doing very well with the Help Me Exist Again game bundle (linked here), but we need one final push, as we only have 2 DAYS left to raise some funds.

So, if you would like $80 of games for $25 to get HUNDREDS of hours of games and also change my life, buy the bundle below!

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Disk Master's expansions, where you can live out your Pokemon or Digimon dream on pen and paper!

This money will go towards affording therapy, medication, possible HRT (I am still deciding), and a new computer for work and enjoyment.

This money is life-saving, allowing me to not be on the verge of living with my parents in a transphobic county that is damn near a sundown town for trans people. I really need this money to live, and I would be eternally grateful if you could reblog and send this sale to someone who you think would help.

And if you can't support the bundle or any games, or just plain wanna help another way, head to my Linktree below for my Patr3on, Kofi, and other things.

Thank you so much!

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virtualreader · 9 months

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broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

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ticklystuff · 3 months

Text

Feather Weather

a/n: i had a silly little idea last year and decided to run with it

wc: ~1.8k

summary: ayato knits a sweater for thoma out of the goodness of his heart

---

"Go on, open it."

Thoma held the box in his hand, looking warily between the unopened parcel and his lord standing in front of him. Gifts from Ayato were always the.. special kind that often resulted in humiliation of some form, usually nothing more than the playful sort, yet were common enough to condition Thoma that keeping his guard up around this particular Kamisato was more than necessary. The seemingly innocent smile that Ayato wore well was no longer enough to fool Thoma at this point.

"What's wrong?" His expression morphed into one of genuine curiosity, yet Thoma knew better, his ears tuned to pick out the traces of mischief often laced into Ayato's voice.

Surprisingly, his voice was clean.

"You know exactly why!" He said after moments of hesitation, prompting an amused chuckle from his lord.

"I'm curious as to what you think could possibly be inside the box," Ayato mused with a delighted glint in his eyes, clearly reveling in the apprehension.

"Anything!" Thoma huffed with a pout. "You manage to turn anything into a prank!"

"You flatter me."

"M'lord, please," came the usual sigh of dismay, contrasting the comical giggles that escaped Ayato's mouth. "I'm not going on anymore boba runs for you if this is something bad."

"Alright, alright," Ayato shook his head, heeding the warning, "I assure you that there's nothing wrong with the gift."

Thoma raised an eyebrow, reading Ayato's voice for the inevitable lie. "You promise?"

"I promise." Ayato proceeded to place a palm to his own heart, ending the gesture with a firm nod. "It was made with love, of course."

"Or demonic ambition."

"And love," Ayato tacked on, flashing a wink that Thoma could only respond with an eye roll.

Despite his suspicions, the package itself lacked hints of ulterior motives. The blue ribbons with silver trimmings were held together over the beige gift box in the form of an awkward bow, handiwork that could belong to none other than Ayato himself. Arts and crafts were not exactly his forte, indicating that Ayato had a direct hand with the package, which only served to further keep Thoma on edge.

Glancing at the parcel with hesitation, Thoma lifted the box and gave it a gentle shake, straining his ears as he repeated the motion twice more. Whatever was inside didn't create much force from the inside, barely tapping against the inner walls of the box. Clothes, maybe?

His fingers pinched at the ends of the ribbons, tugging gently to let the thin piece of cloth fall away, revealing the white cardboard box underneath. Slowly, his fingers pushed at the top and Thoma braced himself for what might just jump out at him, but was pleasantly surprised at what looked to be a sweater. He lifted the sweater from the box, eyes gleaning over the warm orange threads as his fingers dug into the soft material. "Where'd you get this?" was all Thoma could murmur, taking in the sweater in awe.

"I made it myself, of course," Ayato said with pride. "Only crafted with the finest material during my trip to Fontaine. I ran into Chiori along the way and she guided me during the process."

"It looks amazing, m'lord!" Thoma gushed, eyes going over the sweater repeatedly. "Thank you, thank you so much! I-I'm going to wear it now, if that's alright!"

"It's yours, so do with it as you please," Ayato chuckled. "It's the perfect time for sweater weather, after all."

---

The sweater was everything.

It perfectly fit his body without being too snug, allowing for plenty of wiggle room, it was of notably high quality with how the fabric felt delightful against his skin, it even smelled faintly of vanilla, but most importantly, it was warm. And what paired better with a snuggly sweater on a snowy day?

Candles.

Thoma hummed to himself as he sorted through the variety of candles he kept neatly arranged, eyes scanning the shelf for the perfect scent to match his mood. Cinnamon was a classic choice, or he could go with one of the newer ones Ayaka had brought home from Fontaine-

"Ack!"

The sudden feeling of arms wrapped around his waist interrupted his candle perusing, but his nerves were put at ease with the familiar sensation of another's cheek gently nuzzling the crook of his neck. All these years working under the Kamisatos, yet Ayato always managed to sneak around, flying under his nose.

"Enjoying the sweater, love?" Ayato's voice softly brushed against the skin of his neck, sending tingles down his spine.

Thoma could only reply with a simple "mhm" as he relaxed into Ayato's hold, sighing whenever Ayato nuzzled into his neck. Strange to be holding such an intimate moment in the Kamisato Estate's storage closet, but Thoma would take anything he could get, what with his lord always having his hands full, not to mention being pulled away for so long during his recent trip to Fontaine. The occasional kiss to his skin and the gentle caress of Ayato's fingers under his sweater were enough to make his brain stir, causing Thoma to—

Wait a moment....

Ayato's fingers.. under his sweater??

What- How did they get there? His hands repeatedly patted at his abdomen where Ayato's hands currently rested against his thin undershirt, protected by the fluffy material of his new sweater. Surely he would've noticed Ayato's sneaky hands slipper under the hem of his sweater, yet somehow they've managed to evade his watch.

"Something the matter?" His tone was innocent, yet there was that familiar artificial tinge to his lord's sickenly sweet voice.

Something was up.

"M'lord.." Thoma's voice tremored as it dawned that he most likely played into whatever the devil himself had planned.

Yet the sickly sweet gestures persisted, now with gentle but firm grip to undoubtedly keep Thoma in place the minute he attempted an escape. "The little holes in the sweater are so convenient," Ayato explained, perfectly reading Thoma's mind. "They make it so convenient for times like these."

"Holes?! Why does the sweater have holes?! Did you not have the budget for fabric?" Thoma couldn't even begin to wrap his head around what purpose this would serve, let alone how he never noticed such a detail, or lack thereof, in the first place. This would teach him to never get too excited over what should've been a harmless gift, archon forbid.

Ayato hummed in response, drumming his fingers against Thoma's torso that made the blond fidget. "Ah, you seem to be misunderstood," he sing-songed, his chin resting atop Thoma's shoulder. "It's an intended feature, of course. I can show you, if you'd like."

He was too afraid to ask, not that it mattered in the end.

"Wah- no! Nohoho! Whahahat are you dohohoing?!"

"Mm, is it not obvious?"

It was a rhetorical question, no doubt, yet there was a sliver of hope that Thoma himself was mistaken, only for those thoughts to be quickly dashed when Ayato's hands persisted, running up the length of Thoma's torso, each touch penetrating the thin material of his undershirt to make the blond squirm. His body twisted and squirmed in response, his own hands grasping uselessly at the other set currently messing with him, anything to escape whatever Ayato had planned.

"Isn't it excellent? A comfy sweater designed for easy access to tickle its wearer," Ayato expressed in low tone, bordering a whisper, though he made no attempt at masking the amusement in his voice.

"B-But you tihihickle mehehe all the tihihime!" Thoma managed through his snickers, squealing when one of Ayato's hands sneakily squeezed at one of his pecs.

"But this is more fun, no?"

"NOHOho!" The desperate cry was enough for Ayato to laugh alongside the giggly retainer, a contrasting mix to Thoma's own frantic laughter. He could just picture the smirk playing on his lips. "EheheheHAHA! Let gohoho! Stahahap!"

"Mmm, but I don't believe I can, even if I wanted to," Ayato remarked. "If you keep moving, my hands will be tangled up in the sweater. Best you do your best and sit still."

But he couldn't, not with how methodical the tickling was. Ayato wasn't the type to go in for the kill, as Thoma knew very well, often going through the bits and pieces in a more systemic way. A pinch to his side, tweaks to his ribs, finger drabbles along his underarms, even going so far to poke at his navel. Thoma could never get a read when he needed it the most, often distracted by Ayato's signature brand of teasing that somehow elevated the subtle pricks into something more unbearable, dissolving Thoma into helpless giggles the further his defenses broke down.

"And, y'know, why stop at sweaters?" Ayato pondered over Thoma's laughter. "Pants with slits at the hips, some modified tabis, maybe even just borrowing a crop top from the traveler."

The teases were enough to send Thoma over the edge, unable to protest once Ayato went down the list of clothing choices he could potentially threaten Thoma with. Laughter after laughter poured over, filling the small storage room with hapless shrieks as Ayato's hands made the most of the custom sweater and its unfortunate victim.

"HeheHAHA! No! Cohohome ohohon! Stahahap PLEAHAH-!"

Despite the menace Ayato often lived up to be, there was still the other side of the coin, the merciful part that knew not overburden his favorite tickle victim. Per routine, the tickling ebbed to a relaxed rhythm, still procuring giggles, while allowing Thoma more leeway to breathe, before his fingers came to steady stop, drumming along Thoma's torso once more as they awaited the blond's next action. Now, with the loosened grip, Thoma used the opportunity to quickly detach himself from Ayato before his lord could have a change of heart, allowing himself to catch his breath, ignoring the smug smirk that Ayato wore well.

"I'm fixing this sweater," Thoma finally exhaled.

"No! You absolutely cannot!" There was a genuine tinge of disappointment behind Ayato's voice, one that didn't commonly occur. "I put a lot of effort into making this."

"Yeah, a lot of effort for evil," Thoma snapped with a tilt of his head.

"It started out with love, I assure you," Ayato explained, shifting his eyes about. "I might have gotten sidetracked during the process, but I can make you a normal one, as long as you promise to keep this one.. and maybe occasionally wear it every once in a while."

Thoma opened his mouth to respond, only for a sigh to escape his lips at the ridiculous request, yet the puppy eyes Ayato flashed him practically forced him to reconsider. "Alright, alright."

"Fantastic!" Ayato's eyes lit up at the response.

"Uh-uh, but on one condition," Thoma tacked on, earning himself a curious glance. "I get to make you an identical piece. That way we'll be matching for sweater weather."

#thomato #thoma #ayato #genshin impact #tickling

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sparkplug-eater · 16 days

Text

Chastity Island

My girlfriend decides to take a couples vacation. She tellse it's a surprise and I go without question, as I desperately need a break from serving her friends. On the plane ride I fall asleep.

A loud buzzer sounds, waking me up along with everyone other man on the plane. I'm strapped to my chair completely naked. I look down and see a small steel cage locked around my cock. The sounds of destress coming from the other men sound like they are in the same predicament as myself. The screen on the seat in front of me turns on. A beautiful brunette woman wearing nothing but a bikini bottom speaks.

"welcome to chastity island. Here, all women live in paradise as men serve. You will not be allowed to get hard, voice your opinion, or control your life. The lady's here have no dress code, where as you beta pigs must always wear your chastity cages. It's not like you have a choice. The cages are locked on. All of your wives and girlfriends are waiting off the plane. You are expected to treat every woman you see as your mistress, as they are allowed to use and abuse any man they want. For good behavior you may earn cock milkings, but bad behavior will receive swift and painful punishment. You are here for as long as your mistress wand, so be good boys!"

With that she blows a kiss, bounces her tits, and the screen powers off. The restraints are automatically undone and the men file out of the plane. The doors automatically open to reveal tons of women wearing varieties of clothes. Some wear fetish gear while others wear swimsuits or absolutely nothing. It's all designed to make them feel sexy and powerful while keeping us incredibly horny and denied.

My girlfriend finds me and orders me to kneel. She wears nothing but heels. She tells me to lick her ass while she speaks to another woman. I crawl behind her, noticing how the other men around service their mistresses, all looking horny and uncomfortable. I pull my mistresses ass apart and start licking the sweat off her asshole, feeling my cock try to get hard in it's tiny cage. I try desperately to ignore it and just think about being a good boy. This is going to be a long trip..

#flr couple #eat my pussy #female led relationship #virgin loser #female led world #locked and denied #caged chastity #hotwives #cucklife

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rakurairagnarok · 7 months

Note

Hi there! I'm heading to the U.A.E. from America in a few days and I'm quite anxious. I was wondering if there was any clothing at Rakurai Inc which would help me fit in better with the locals and boost my confidence and assertiveness?

Glad you got in touch! We have exactly what you have been looking for!!

You found a package when you got home from work. It was a completely blank box except for a small sticker reading Rakurai Inc.

You open it up to find a slick looking headset in it, with some arabic inscriptions on it. You look around the box, but can't find anything on how it works. It doesn't seem to have a jack in it nor any way for you to connect it to your phone with bluetooth so you decide to put it on.

Immediately it starts to play a tape.

"Learning module activated. Scanning for necessary courses"

Suddenly a weird humming begins to drone in your ears. Along with it certain arabic sounding phrases started playing in your head. The first few times you couldn't understand any of it, but suddenly you understood most of it.

"Big, strong, fertile"

Images of big strong arabic men appear in your head. You stumble a bit as your sense of balance was thrown off. You look down and see the legs of your pants have gone up your legs. You watch it with facination as the headset continues.

"Large, Leader, Rich"

Your head begins to spin again and you can barely get yourself on the couch.

You look down to see your pants tight on your legs, almost painted on. You see your bulge growing in your pants, and with it waves of pleasure start spreading through your body.

The tape speeds up, a larger variety of phrases being pushed into your brain, while your mind fogs over due to the pleasure.

"Plump, handsome, regal"

"In charge, charismatic, addictive"

"Cultured, gorgeous, playfull"

Your body keeps growing. Bisceps exploding through the fabric of your shirt, while your pecs are involuntarily bouncing. Your waist snaps, slimming down while your abs flex and push to the surface. Your back widens, shoulders rounding out. Your growing cock starts leaking, before bursting free from the confines of your pants. Your moans echo through your appartment, a previously unknown amount of pleasure radiating through your body.

Your hands explore your growing body.

"Wanted, desired, needed"

"Hungry, hungry, hungry"

You are hungry. A primal hunger that you couldn't satiate here. You need ... you want to be...

"Topped, fucked, bred"

Yes... your mind racing, you want cock, you need it, but you are in charge.

Your ass growing, you feel your hole pucker. It tenses, and releases. You know. You don't get fucked. You fuck. You aren't just a bottom. You drain your partners. They aren't penetrating you, you allow them to enter you, for them to experience the best moment of their lives.

"In charge, draining, dominant"

A grin appears on your face, a face that has been perfected due to your new toy. Sharp jaw, perfectly trimmed beard. Plump lips to get their tool ready.

You make them desperate for more. You got loads of different "tops" on speed dial. They say they're a top, but they are actually too afraid to take it, but you're much better.

You take of your headphones and look around your room. It's a penthouse in one of the most expensive buildings in the U.A.E. which had been gifted to you by one of your clients. You look at your phone and see a few notifications telling you of the massive amount of money you have made from your previous night out.

You smile, life is good.

I hope you enjoyed our trial edition language learning headphones!!! As seen in the picture they are state of the art and can be modified to fit any needs. Be aware some side effects may occur, cultural switch, sluttyness, or iq loss are some of the most common. Please continue your patronage with Rakurai Inc.

#transformation #male muscle growth #rakurai #gay tf #male transformation #race change #arabic #power bottom #dom bottom

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mymanyfandomramblings · 6 months

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Mabel's perspective in Sock Opera is equally, if not more sympathetic than Dipper's: An Essay

Most people generally wouldn't consider Mabel to have a terribly sympathetic plotline in Sock Opera, even those of us who don't necessarily feel that she's horribly selfish. I think that's because, from a narrative perspective, her plotline is (as it so often is) shafted in favour of Dipper's, and from a viewer's perspective, Dipper's makes more sense. We, as viewers want to know who the author is. We, as viewers, know that Gabe is inevitably going to turn out to be some variety of impossible, and we know that the Author of the Journals is a major mystery. However, from Mabel's perspective, none of this is true, because she doesn't have the luxury of knowing she is in a TV show. Even if you take out Gabe, her perspective still makes perfect sense.

At the beginning of summer, Dipper found this journal, and Mabel has generally been pretty happy to go along with his adventures as the journal has led them, but it's clear she doesn't have the same degree of fascination with it. Maybe she may have been a little intrigued by who the Author is, she's probably a bit curious, but not to the same extent. By the time of Sock Opera, she's probably reasonably ready for the Journal fixation to be over, considering that they nearly all got killed by a shapeshifter trying to find the author. She knows that trying to investigate the author is dangerous--Stan warned them away from the supernatural, they've all nearly died multiple times, but Dipper cannot be stopped. And now Dipper has decided to spend hours and hours and hours, forgoing sleep, sitting in front of a screen, typing in passwords. The fact that Mabel tries to drag him away from it is a good thing--anyone with a relative who spends excessive amounts of time in front of a computer can tell you that. Generally, having someone close to you become deeply fixated to the point of obsession with anything can be challenging, however in Mabel's case, Dipper has become obsessed to the point of prioritising getting into the laptop above anything, and this isn't just a regular hyperfixation: this is a hyperfixation that has nearly gotten them both (plus their loved ones) nearly killed multiple times in the last few weeks. It's absolutely the responsible, good thing for Mabel to do to not enable that behaviour.

And then if you add the puppet show back into the equation, then yes, it is kind of ridiculous of Mabel to put on a whole show of that kind of magnitude just for a boy (regardless of whether the boy deserves it), however, as viewers we must accept that this is, in fact, thoroughly within character for Mabel, who is kind of ridiculous. Any kind of production of that size is a huge commitment, especially if you've given yourself a week to work, and I'm not remotely bothered by the fact that Mabel has to get everyone involved on this. And to Mabel's credit, she does try to help Dipper as soon as he appears to her in puppet form, she just isn't immediately willing to stop the show. Back in high school, my drama class did a play that I mostly wrote, mostly managed and also had a small acting role in (yes, I was an overachiever in drama), and let me tell you, it would have taken a lot to have gotten me to call off the show halfway through, much less publicly sabotage it. A demon threatening the lives of one of my siblings? Probably yes. That probably would have done it. And Mabel does allow the thing that she poured blood, sweat and tears into to go literally up in flames in front of everyone, once she realises that's what she has to do (and personally, I don't think that there's anything wrong with not immediately being willing to drop everything for this. It's not like Dipper doesn't dig in his heels about doing what's best until the very last possible second). I don't know why people insist it's not 'technically a sacrifice', because while, yes, obviously Dipper's life was more important, and she 100% made the right choice, it's not easy to wreck something you worked hard on in front of people.

All this is to say that although it's easy to become irritated at Mabel during this episode because she's hindering Dipper's ability to figure out who the author is, it's also very easy not to realise that she has a thoroughly reasonable perspective, simply because the narrative puts greater emphasis and attention of Dipper's perspective.

#gravity falls #mabel pines #dipper pines #gravity falls meta #character analysis #my ramblings

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fryingtoilet · 12 days

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Hello Everyone! I'm super excited to announce my new sketch collection Artbook: ✿Halcyon Days✿

I decided to go the pre-order route this time to make the process smoother, since I've got a great system for fulfilling orders through my own shop, and I have some funds to start the production right away!

In order to secure the rest of the production funding, and to allow myself more time to work on Gloamingvale's Chapter 1, I am hoping to get as many preorders as possible quickly, and offering a big early-bird discount for the new book, as well as a big spring sale on the rest of my shop items! There will also be a couple of bundle-options available, with a big discount as well.

Let me tell you more about the book: I've been putting it together for the past couple of months, and ended up with a lot more pages than I anticipated. It's brimming with a huge variety of sketches! I included a ton of sketchbook scans, digital doodles, and all the fanarts that didn't make it into my previous artbooks. Here are the book details:

7' x 10' Inches - Softcover perfect bound, with Gold Foiling and soft touch Matte lamination - 104 Pages full Colour on premium munken paper with a matte finish

I have already begun production and the estimated preorder ship-out date is: Early-Mid AUGUST 2024

So only a few months of wait-time, much quicker than most Kickstarters!

I hope you will help me make the production of this book go smoothly by getting a copy early on and taking advantage of the reduced pricing! There will also be a brand new bookplate sticker design for this release, and an art print of the full cover illustration.

Your support is, as always, SO appreciated!

#illustration #artbook #sketchbook #sketches #sketchcollection #cosmicspectrum #gloamingvale #comicartist #characterdesign

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asgardian--angels · 2 months

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Talking on the phone with my mom I finally broke down and cried thoroughly about the cancellation. I think I'd been holding it in for the last two days, or two months. And honestly I've been wondering all along why this show means so much to me. I am not queer, I am not neurodivergent, I am not POC or disabled or any of the groups that this show has been so important for in terms of representation and being treated with respect and dignity. I understand and completely empathize with all of you, and fight for this show and your rights worldwide alongside you, but it still left me wondering why I myself have latched onto Our Flag Means Death. I suppose part of it is that despite being white and cishet and the privileges that have always come with that, I have been treated like an outsider and ostracized my entire childhood and teenage years, for being ugly and having "disgusting" interests (primarily liking insects, reptiles, other creepy-crawlies - aka the thing I literally do for my career now). I was bullied relentlessly from preschool through early college and became a very lonely introverted person - I still am. Undoubtedly Our Flag Means Death gave me renewed hope that I haven't missed some key window for finding love or relationships of any kind that matter, as I sit here typing this at age 28 having never dated anyone.

But it had to be more than that. And with everything that's happened the past couple of months, and the last few days, I think it finally clicked for me.

Followers of my blog may or may not know that I am a conservation biologist, or pollinator ecologist, whichever hat fits best on a given day, they're quite close. I don't make many original posts like this anymore on here because my job is so busy. Basically, I do a variety of things - academic research, habitat management & restoration, and public outreach - to try and preserve biodiversity and ecosystems on our planet. I'm just going to say it: it's a thankless job. Nothing we do ever feels like it's enough, and burnout is common in our field because we sit with the guilt of feeling like we are the only thing between survival and utter destruction of planet Earth, and work ourselves to exhaustion. It's one of those jobs where your work is your life, and your passion is your work, and it's inseparable from who you are on a molecular level. We are often faced, on a large scale, with hostility, from people that don't believe in science and are more than happy to pull a shotgun on us, or rich old men in power who are content to watch the world burn for another penny in their bank account. There are days when sometimes it sinks in just how bad things are, and it's terrifying, and I feel like we will never be able to do enough, to change enough, before it gets catastrophic. It's paralyzing.

My ability to do my job is dependent on hope. Unwavering, unrelenting hope. Hope beyond hope. We have to believe what we're doing matters, otherwise we'd fall down and never get back up again. I'm no big-shot, I give talks to a few hundred people at a time, and make urban pollinator habitat on a local scale. Is any of that going to make a difference compared to the ramifications of a single oil mogul deciding to cut corners and cause an oil spill that kills millions of seabirds and damages ocean food chains for decades to come? If people in my field let thoughts like that linger, we'd be paralyzed to inaction. I have to hope that the people I teach choose to do something good with that knowledge, and go on to inspire others, or that the patch of habitat I make allows a declining species to maintain a foothold instead of going locally extinct. You just have to keep going.

And Our Flag Means Death got wrapped up in that for me. The Stede Bonnet effect, if you will. He set out to do pirating differently, treating his crew with respect and helping them grow. In return, they internalized that mindset, and it spread to how they interacted with others. It changed the trajectory of individual lives, and also at least began to change how the society of pirates operated as a whole. It was a beacon of hope that choosing small acts of kindness did matter, even if you yourself could not see the ripples it made. It renewed my faith that love persevered and would win. That we could all make life a little better for each other and ourselves through kindness, compassion, forgiveness, and mutual support. I think a good chunk of that is from Taika - these are running themes in his projects, and his films move me deeply for that. This show became in some, perhaps subconscious way, a source of strength for me to keep putting myself out there in my line of work to do whatever I was capable of to help the cause.

The cancellation was devastating, but the second cancellation (turbohell cancelation?) was even more so. Because now it's so clear that this is largely the work of David Zaslav and the regime he's built. It's petty, it's greedy, and more than anything, it's cruel. Indifferently, indiscriminately cruel, when one person at the top can have such power to make or break the lives of thousands, millions, beneath them, and though it would have been barely a drop in the bucket, a hand wave, to renew our show or let it pass to another streamer, he actively chose to shackle it to this sinking Titanic of a company WBD has become. I have always operated on the belief that you can do anything if you work hard enough at it, and believed deep down that there was some order, some justice in the universe, atheist though I be. We as a fandom did everything we possibly could, we loved this show harder than anything. The numbers were there, the awards nominations were there, the critic praise was there, and we were loud and loyal every single day. I felt like we could do this - how could we not win when we've done so much, and the show deserves it so much? Surely cause and effect will prevail.

This fight seemed small, though really it wasn't; we fought for the right of artists and creators to make quality, original stories and have them told to their natural end, we fought for diversity representation to be more than a token character - OFMD raised the bar so much higher on all fronts, we fought to shed light on the chaos and impending collapse of this industry silencing art and exploiting writers, actors, and all manner of production workers. It was a small fight from the outside, one that I really felt we could win. And I put my heart and soul into it, because if we could win this, if we could save this simple, kind love story about two guys on a boat, then maybe there was hope for the bigger, badder stuff too. It shouldn't seem an insurmountable task for several thousand fans to convince a streaming service that they'd turn a tidy profit to give our show one more season.

Yet we lost - through no fault of our own. I am so proud of us. But that really struck deep for me. If one peabrained CEO of a media company wouldn't budge on greenlighting a show that was in his every best interest business-wise - perhaps enough to even save Max from going under in the not-too-distant future - my god, what hope was there for changing anything bigger? The 'real' problems of the world? When no amount of ethos, logos, or pathos can penetrate these men at the top, where's that hope to fight? Lately the world seems like it's just going belly up all over. If we gave everything we could, and it still wasn't enough - if it could never be enough - what hope is there? It's like chaining yourself to a tree and the bulldozer plowing right on ahead. And I think that broke something in me. It shook me to my foundations because it broke my rules of how things are supposed to work. We believed hard enough, we worked tirelessly, and we deserved it for how important this show was to so many people. And it didn't matter. Our best wasn't enough. And that caused an avalanche of all of the horrible, scary things piled on my shoulders - we're losing the Amazon rainforest too fast to save, climate change is going to turn the corn belt into a dustbowl by mid-century, a border wall is going to devastate imperiled wildlife in Texas, deforestation and hurricanes on songbird wintering grounds could lead to entire species extinctions, saltmarshes are our lifeline and they're shrinking and we're still building stupid concrete stormwalls, invasive diseases will completely alter the composition of our forests to be unrecognizable to our children, and if you don't make every slide of this powerpoint utterly perfect and you fail to convince every single person in attendance to get rid of their lawn then you've failed and the world is doomed.

I've struggled with being a perfectionist my whole life. This didn't help.

That's where I was a couple hours ago. But I took some deep breaths. I know the world isn't fair. But I really thought if we could win this one battle, then we could win the war.

But here's what I realized. Everything we did mattered. It mattered so much. Because there's the show, and then there's everything that was birthed out of that show. The community, so many of us around the world who have been uplifted by Our Flag Means Death in a real and lasting way that we will take with us and spread to affect those around us. The Stede Bonnet effect goes global. We raised thousands and thousands of dollars for charities around the world, real people whose lives have been improved, or maybe even saved, because of us and this silly pirate show. We brought a hell of a lot of attention to WBD and their shitty practices, keeping the momentum going in a way that I think is only going to build - and I sure hope it leads to Zaslav getting deposed. We have demanded more queer stories, more BIPOC stories, more disabled and autistic and middle-aged stories, stories with exquisite costumes and award-worthy wigs, dear lord, and we are being heard. We have expressed such love and support for the cast and crew, showing them that we appreciate their hard work and that we will be behind them in their future projects. So many of them have told us how the show and its fans have changed their lives. We convinced Rhys that his career isn't winding down but winding up, and to be unapologetic about his wonderful weirdness - we've proven to everyone through this show that your weirdness is what someone out there is going to love you for, not in spite of. We rallied to help writers and actors during the strikes in a way that was taken to heart and remembered. We have been out here talking it through as a crew, and turning poison into positivity, for over two years now, and that impact is permanent. They can cancel our show, they can try and slap copyright notices on our fan merch, and spew bullshit excuses about the numbers not being there. But Our Flag Means Death sparked a movement, the biggest pirate crew the world has ever seen, using our power for good.

We may not have any more new material for our show for a while, or ever. But I maintain hope that when the dust has settled and streaming has entered its 'new era' that they'll remember us and throw us a lifeline. Because hope is a part of my genetic makeup, and even in cancellation my hope has been renewed that the fight is worth fighting, that our individual choices of kindness are having an effect, and making the world a little easier to live in bit by bit. No one can take from us what we have built out of this show. And thanks to pirating, they can't take the actual show from us either. Despite this, no matter the outcome, I am so happy we got two seasons of this wonderful series. That was more than almost anyone expected. The story belongs to all of us, and it will always live on. We did not truly lose this battle, because in the process we gained more than we could have ever imagined. And I know there's still so much more to come. That gives me the strength to keep doing what I do, every day.

To me, Our Flag Means Hope.

#our flag means death #ofmd #this is a very long post but I need to write it for me #seeing the outpouring of love on twitter today has really been so needed #also realizing after i finish this that my blog name is literally 'There is always hope'#so i mean. this really has been my brand since i started here #personal

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bergoozter · 15 days

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I don't think it's wrong for people to be upset about this. I don't want their company to fail, I wish the best for them, but this move really does feel like a kick in the face to a lot of people.

$6 for a video a week, tops, is wild to me. I understand that they need more money to keep up production but this feels like the worst way to do that. I keep trying to find a way of looking at this that's positive but it's so difficult. Especially since they're also taking down their past content (which Watcher told Variety was the plan, and Ryan later went back on?). The whole thing just feels convoluted and tone deaf.

Again, I don't hate them or hope for their downfall or anything awful like that, but the fans are the ones who have supported them this whole time, I think we're allowed to feel upset by such a massive change. (Especially with it being broadcasted as something we'd all be ecstatic to hear.)

Sorry to just dump this all here, I know you're likely still processing the news too, I guess I just wanted to add in my two cents? Idk, not to pull out the mom line, but I rlly do feel like I'm not angry, just disappointed 😭.

i think i feel similarly. i am still processing and haven’t fully decided how i feel yet. both sides are right but the people being mean and cruel are the wrong ones which i really do hate to see some have stooped so low.

artists should be paid but loyal audiences shouldn’t be blindsided. i feel like a lot of decisions were made without us which sounds so selfish to say but the sentiment is there.

what’s frustrating is 6$ doesn’t seem like a big ask but it is for a lot of people. apart from those who would pay it but can’t, casual viewers wouldn’t even if they could. like i have a coworker that just enjoys one of their shows and i can’t see them paying to watch it (i’ll share my login but that’s not the point i’m making). it just alienates a lot of their viewers. :/

i believe it is misinformation that they’re taking down all their past content but i could be wrong if someone wants to correct or clarify for me!

i still have a lot of questions that i’m hoping get answered or worked out before this launches in full. i’ve been floating between disappointed/nervous and wanting to be excited all day, i’m just ready for today to be over.

#watcher #bergasks

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groovyfrog420 · 1 month

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SV Redeemed AU

INTRODUCTION / DISCLAIMER

First things first, these designs for Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla are FAR into the future. Quite literally end game phase of the story, the “they grow old together and live happily ever after”. There's a long way to get there, and while I will write some of my thoughts about their journey, I'm a shitty writer. There's no single thought-out plot, it's just bits and pieces of my thoughts in one place.

I don't think I'd be making a tag or naming this AU anything specific. I'm still calling it an AU because there is a bit of canon divergence, but I don’t have a start-to-finish story. (EDIT: wellp that lasted long. new name is #False-Truth AU because I like the oxymoron. I still don't think I'll do much - maybe a few short comics, which you'll be able to find under that tag on my profile)

Keep in mind that these are just my own interpretations, if you imagine these cookies acting differently, that's ok! This is just my own made-up alternate version

LONG POST UNDER THE CUT - don't say I didn't warn ya

I’ve tried to divide it into sections, so if you are looking for just smth specific / only care about one of the characters, you can skip right to it!

Prepare for the ramblings.

PURE VANILLA'S DESIGN

more relaxed now - doesn’t need to keep up perfect appearances and the image of a hero, so he can lay back a bit more. (messier, less perfectly styled hair - more like his younger years. comfier clothes.)

focusing on herbology - with less power now (why explained below) and trying to not overwork himself, he’s taken to different healing methods, as well as taking on gardening as a hobby

slightly more open eyes - (heavily elaborated on bellow)

different staff - due to being able to use his own eyes more now, as well as staying more on the low, he’d decided to retire the famous staff. Since it’s a flower, it was planted somewhere and allowed to blossom and grow freely - fitting symbolism for a new beginning, I think. The lantern light glowing blue makes it easier on his eyes.

PV STORY BITS

In this AU Shadow Milk and Pure Vanilla retire together. I think PV would still like to teach, but would focus more on the medical and practical side of things, like herbs and healing practices. (He’ll leave telling tales about the past to Shadow Milk, though he might throw in his own comments from time to time…) He mostly offers advice and shares every-day methods for protection of different kinds with those who ask, but may take on an apprentice or few to fully pass down his healing knowledge to. He uses magic sparingly now.

This way with not focusing on a variety of subjects and many, many students, he’s able to rest more and doesn’t have to split himself between multiple worries. He can focus properly and give his students more individual attention, to make sure his knowledge will be retained for the future.

Eyes

(don't jump me pls read the footnote)

I've decided to take the closed/covered eyes motif PV has in a bit more symbolic way *. I want to interpret it as PV being blind (=ignorant) to the world around him, choosing to see the world and his own actions in an idealized light, and to look away from anything that doesn't fit that idea. Light sensitivity would be very ironic yet fitting - since his own powers are very light-based, by using them to help others he’d be blindinding/hurting himself in the process...

Over time, he realizes how futile it is. Even if he turns his eyes away from the wrongdoing in the world, from his own mistakes and imperfections, they will still continue to happen. He begins to understand that he has to accept that neither he nor the world is perfect, to stop wallowing over the past and start fixing the present. To keep moving forward and keep working on himself, not hide his imperfections under literal and figurative wraps.

With the help of Shadow Milk, he begins to open his eyes more and more and accept the real truth, no matter how imperfect it is.

*I’m not sure how confirmed it was in canon that he’s blind (from what I’ve seen it was mostly implied, but still). I'm not erasing that - for the sake of this AU, I'd like to say that he has partial issues with sight (including the mentioned light sensitivity), but now he learns to accommodate them rather than ignore them and hurt himself more for the sake of others. No, he doesn't magically gain full sight now, but he's more comfortable, healthier, and more honest about the world around him with all of its imperfections.

Burnout

I believe SM and PV complete each other so perfectly because they can help each other grow in areas where the other is lacking/struggling. With PV, I’d like to focus on burnout, false ideas, and how the pressure he’s constantly under has affected him. He was very much just a normal guy before receiving his Soul Jam. Years beyond a normal cookie’s lifespan of hard work and trying to be the perfect leader, to always ensure the happiness of all his people (whether that be as king or otherwise) are bound to take a toll on anyone. Obviously he'd never admit that, always putting everyone else before his own needs, and he’d likely run himself into the grave. That's where I think Shadow Milk would be helpful - he’d make him realize how unsustainable what he’s doing really is. He wasn’t built for handling immense power for all of eternity, he’s just a single cookie and whether he likes it or not, he can’t save everyone or make every single one of his people happy... Being selfish isn’t entirely wrong, sometimes might even be necessary.

Onto the idea of false truth - Pure Vanilla has a very idealized view of a lot of things and people. He’s trying to see everyone in the best light, but he also holds a high standard for himself - that he must be the ideal, shining and caring hero and a beacon of perfection . Shadow Milk is likely to pick that image apart - probably not in the kindest way, saying that in trying to be perfectly selfless, PV is putting himself on the pedestal above everyone else while still being just a single cookie with limited capabilities. He’d likely call this image egoistical, and while PV would argue that he’s doing it for the good of others (he is helping after all, right?), Shadow Milk wouldn’t be entirely wrong - this way of thinking, that he’s the one who must take care of everyone else, is harmful for both him and the ones he’s trying to protect.

Shadow Milk would show him that truth is relative, that “pure truth” doesn’t exist, for anyone could interpret it differently. That PV isn’t (and doesn't have to be) the perfect blameless hero. That his people aren’t as good or pure as he’d like to give them credit for, but neither are they helpless.

Shadow Milk metaphorically and literally helps him open his eyes - he slowly learns to lay back, to accept the reality and “truth”, whatever it may be, and is no longer blinding and burning himself out by trying to help everyone at once. With a new mindset and outlook of the world, he can allow himself to retire, and leave a calmer, out-of-the-spotlight life.

Retirement

Ok, controversial idea, but I think the ancients will have to one day retire and pass down their SoulJams. Yes, I played Cookie Odyssey, I know how important it is to them, but hear me out. As I said above (which is shown in the game btw, but correct me if I'm wrong), they were just normal cookies before taking on the roles of the Ancient Heros. Cookies with high achievements, yes, but still. They aren’t The Beasts, baked specifically for the purpose of handling the Soul Jams, and even then, The Beasts weren’t perfect. I’m not saying they’re bound to get corrupted like their predecessors did, but I am saying that this role is bound to take a toll on them. Not even just from the perspective of power, even just handling so many responsibilities with running their kingdoms is going to be extremely draining mentally. (Physically likely too, even if they’re said to stay “always young” thanks to the Soul Jams - many stories teach that you can’t mess with nature and that nothing lasts forever...)

I don’t know who they’d pass the Soul Jams along too - whether that’d be Gingerbrave and his friends, or a new batch of heroes, that is to be decided. The point is, they have served their purpose, they have (from the perspective of this AU) defeated Dark Enchantress, and deserve to now leave the rest of their lives in peace.

SHADOW MILK'S DESIGN

“mellowed out” a bit - continues to be eccentric and dramatic, but less manic

still unsettling - most level-headed cookies upon meeting him immediately get a feeling that there's something.. off about him, even if they can't put their finger on it. (I purposefully left some of his corrupted design elements or callbacks to them, like the marking over his eye, for that reason)

vibrant, colorful, very extra in both behavior and looks, everything he does he does with drama and flourish

quiets down when out of the eyes of the public, or alone with Pure Vanilla

peacock elements - fitting for someone with such a vibrant personality. also the eye connection is perfect - if you look closely at the feather he's wearing, you might even notice a familiar symbol in its “eye”

a playful bard - (elaborated heavily bellow) - an identity allows him to enjoy his favorite activities, while also being a slight callback to his academic past

SM STORY BITS

The bard

While spending more time with Pure Vanilla, PV encouraged him to pursue his creative interests. Partly to have smth to get SM’s mind off of causing chaos, and partly because they let him indulge and express himself without causing any serious damage. Now he’s joined PV in retirement, though still not fully stepping down from the stage.

Being a bard allows Shadow Milk to indulge in everything he likes most: being the center of attention, dramatics, theatrics, mischief, a tasteful dose of lies and half-truths, but also, in a way, calling back to his past self: for while a lot of his stories are made-up tales, he can also share the history of Earthbread that he’s witnessed. Yes, he may do so through over-dramatic performances or behind caricatural characters, but every tale holds a grain of truth, does it not? Whether his audience chooses to believe him or not is their choice to make.

Referencing the fact that a big part of human history survived through word of mouth, and how storytellers play an important role in preserving it, I think it’s only fitting to make him a bard.

About visual choices

I made his redeemed design less chaotic and asymmetrical, but still vibrant and based mostly on his current color palette, rather than the one from Blueberry Academy. That's because while he may be rediscovering his interests from the past, he’s not the person he was before corruption and never will be again. Instead, he too is learning to rediscover the world in a new light, with a new identity.

Visually I’ve tried to keep some elements from his current design, if slightly toned down: a wide collar, puffy sleeves, a flowy cape. Elements of his corruption are also still there: different colored sclera (= his one eye being black), the sharp teeth. He may have settled down and calmed down slightly, but he remains as playful as ever :))

He still causes local chaos once in a while or resorts to pranking unsuspecting cookies nearby (the slight charring at the bottom of PV’s robe is a result of one of such pranks getting out of hand), and PV has accepted that he'll never be a calm, put-together cookie he once might have been. However, SM's learned to not be a danger to others for the sake of the one he cares about the most, and that's enough for the both of them.

And that's all for now! If you've managed to get this far, thank you SO much for your patience, I hope you've enjoyed my thoughts and brainworms <3

#funny how this turned into an essay on accident #shadowvanilla #pureshadow #vanilla milkshake #shadow milk #shadow milk cookie #shadow milk cookie run kingdom #shadow milk crk #pure vanilla #pure vanilla cookie #pure vanilla crk #shadow milk au #cookie run au #blorbo-time #False-Truth AU

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nunalastor · 2 months

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Title: The Fallen and The Falling (aka TF & TF)

Pairing: Adam / Lucifer

Author: Cursed Mod

Rating: PG

Word Count: 714

Summary: (A Drabble Compilation Probably)

This is one of many parts of an ongoing series that I'm writing about Lucifer and Fallen Adam. Other character and ships may appear. Who knows. I sure don't.

Warnings: Features aspects of Folk Catholicism specifically of the Latin American variety. Mild body horror and nonconsensual body modification.

No, this isn't beta'd or edited. Enjoy and ignore the formatting I'm on my phone.

Dust settled and the celebrations were in full swing, yet there was a stillness in the air immediately around Lucifer despite all of the faint music and chatter around the hotel and the city as a whole. This was what it was like to be winner, but the taste of victory was bittersweet on his tongue. There was still something he felt needed to do.

Lucifer allowed his feet to take him where they'd left Adam's body with a simple sheet covered him, though a breeze had started blowing that away. This was when Lucifer realized that this need was absolutely morbid, especially when he sat down next to the body. His intention to pull the sheet back over, maybe recite some words or humor heaven with the proper prayers. Something nice, something respectful. Maybe cover the body in a little bit of dirt before some cannibal came around to eat it.

Instead, he found himself marveling at Adam's face. The man looked as he always had, from the moment He formed him from the warm clay of the earth. Lucifer gently started tracing the slopes and curves on Adam’s face, was it wrong to admire such delicate work? Was it wrong to want to feel for the fingerprints of the Maker himself?

Adam's face still felt so soft and warm. He looked as though he were just sleeping off a long night, not devoid of the precious gift of life. Lucifer hummed as his traced Adam's soft lips, then skipped up to poke the tip of his nose, then slid his fingers to tap his closed eyelids and swooped his hand to push his hair back.

That was when the clay softened, and to his horror and amusement, horns grew peeking up from the soft locks, like those of a lamb. That was... probably not good.

Naturally, through his slight and growing panic he kept messing with Adam's structure, oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck! This was not what he wanted. He patted down the horns and held his hands down to make sure that they didn't pop back up, only for them to shift and change larger following his hands as he pulled them away. Lucifer grimaced and decided to pull the sheet right back over Adam’s face again. Maybe if he pretended it didn't happen nobody will know what he’d done. He glanced upward; half-expecting that thought to be challenged immediately but it wasn't.

“You’re a real fucking pain, you know that?” Lucifer said, dusting his hands off, the warm sticky feeling of clay bothering his hands. He more or less used the opportunity to wipe his hands on the sheet as he tucked it in under Adam more securely, “You know, it's funny. This might be the first time you've ever been tucked in.”

Why was he talking to the dead guy now? It was probably just nerves. Definitely, only nerves. On top of that, Adam’s body still felt warm. Was it because he was clay? Lucifer certainly did not recall Lilith ever feeling like that, nor was he responsible for her changes when they were cast down. Maybe it was because she never died. Lucifer settled into a kneeling position before Adam his pride clawing at him not to do this, but guilt overwhelmed him. He looked upwards again and folded his hands in the way that all perfect angels should.

“So…” Lucifer glanced around, as if somebody was going to show up and tell /him/ he was praying wrong. “Requiem aeternam dona eis, Domine.” He squinted harder upwards, “Do.. Do I do the response myself or…?”

Lucifer froze, his back tingled with a soul dropping chill, something was happening, he stayed frozen. He knew praying was a goddamn mistake even as a joke. There was a brightness about himself that clashed with the warmth exuding from Adam.

Then he heard the response, it came from under the sheets bored reciting of it at that. “Et lux perpetua luceat eis. Fidelium animae, per misericodiam Dei, requiescant in pace. Amen.”

Adam’s body sat up and immediately their foreheads crashed into each other with a forced that knock them both back from each other.

There was silence, and then there was screaming.

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