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#thank u again for the prompt!
mushiewrites · 1 year
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Attitude Adjustment
hello fwens :3 back with another fic from the results of a poll I ran! the prompt is from this list requested through this ask! I actually love the way this turned out, so enjoy!
prompt 1 - “how much does this tickle from 1 to 10?” / 17 - “apologize!” / 18 - “i’m gonna count down from 10” / 25 - “you’re being really bold for someone within tickling distance.”
(lee!Dream / ler!George / ler!Sapnap : 3K words)
“YES! YESSS!” Dream exclaimed, jumping up from his chair and accidentally pulling his headset off of his head, giggling as he somehow caught it in his right hand and leaned down to place it back over his golden curls. “I told you I’d beat you guys! Oh man, this challenge is gonna be incredible!” 
Dream, George and Sapnap were in their respective recording rooms, having just gone through two runs of the mod they recently coded for a new video idea they had, testing to make sure everything worked properly before actually filming. The initial runthrough had been successful, though Dream had won because of a mistake that the other two boys had made. They demanded a rematch, only to be met with the same ending - Dream had beaten them yet again. 
“Fuck off.” Sapnap’s annoyance seethed over the line of the discord call they were all on, making Dream break out into a satisfied grin. 
“Look, it’s not my fault you two are trash at Minecraft.” He commented, a cocky tone to his voice as he giggled. He heard George let out a groan which only further fueled him, bouncing his legs with excitement. 
“Dream, I’d be quiet if I were you.” He heard the youngest boy growl through his headphones, moving to lean against the back of his chair as the smile on his face grew. He crossed his arms across his chest, rolling his eyes at the threatening tone in Sapnap’s voice with a chuckle.
“Why? What are you gonna do, challenge me to a rematch again? Go ahead! You saw what happened last time.” Dream barked out a laugh at the thought, knowing full well that he would beat the two again. However, smile faltered when he heard a low chuckle, the sound all too familiar. 
“No, but you’re being really bold for someone within tickling distance,” The blonde’s eyes widened as he heard the younger boy’s statement, sitting up straight in his chair. “Wouldn’t you agree, George?” 
“W-What? No!” Dream grabbed at the microphone with one hand, bringing it closer to him as if that would somehow get his point across clearer.
“Oh, I definitely agree. You’ve been way too cocky today.” George’s smirk was evident in his voice, causing butterflies to erupt in Dream’s stomach. His left hand was quick to cover the area, pressing slightly in the hopes that the flutters would settle down. 
“I- No I haven’t! …Not more than normal!” Dream had paused in his wording, thinking back on the past few hours and realizing how much he had bombarded the two with insults and teases. His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the low chuckle once more, sending chills down his spine as his focus was brought back to the call. 
“I’m gonna countdown from 10.” 
“What?!”
“10…9…8…” Dream was panicking now, stuttering and fidgeting in his seat as the younger boy began counting. He knew what it meant - he had been a victim to the countdown many times, and he knew exactly what followed. 
The hair on the back of Dream’s neck stood up as he suddenly heard quick footsteps thudding down the hall, a clear indication of where they were heading. He let out a squeal as he flung the headset off of his head, still able to hear the numbers decreasing as the seconds passed. Dream was mere steps away from slamming the door shut, his arm extended to grab the door to swing it shut, when George appeared in the doorway. 
“FUCK!” Dream squealed, dodging the elder as he lunged forward and sprinted towards the bed in the corner of the recording room. He cursed himself immediately as he flung the covers off to take safety there, wrapping them around himself and tucking them in tightly so George couldn’t remove them.
“Oh Dreamie!” The sing-song tone of George’s voice made Dream cower further under the blankets, twisting his fists into them as a way to expel the tingly energy that was coursing through him. 
“Come on, don’t you wanna hang out with your best buddies?” He heard additional footsteps entering his room, listening as Sapnap joined in on the taunting. The sound of the door shutting caught his attention, letting out a shriek when he heard the lock click. 
“Nohoho! Fuck ohoff!” He spat out in response, curling up on his side as much as he could when he felt the mattress dip next to his legs, signaling that he was no longer the only one on the bed. Giggles quickly burst past his lips as he felt pokes along his sides in random patterns, the offending finger pressing in wherever it could. 
“What do we have here?” Sapnap questioned curiously, his voice coming from the end of the bed. The pokes hadn’t stopped, leading him to the conclusion that George was the one currently tickling him. 
“G-Gehehorge, stop! Gehet awahay, Sapnap!” He spoke through his giggles, wrapping his arms around himself the best he could while still securing the blanket in place with his hands. The protection Dream felt from the blanket was quickly stripped from his mind as he felt a hand wrap around his ankle, fingers skittering over his socked foot and making him kick out in a panic. 
“Nohoho! No no nohoho p-plehehease!” Dream pleaded with the younger boy, trying to kick at Sapnap but failing when the smaller boy jumped up onto the bed, straddling his legs and continuing the tickly assault on his foot. 
“It’s not my fault you’re too much of a giant to fully hide under a blanket.” Sapnap teased him, walking his fingers up onto the tops of Dream’s foot to make him squeal. He continued to try and kick his legs, squirming and pleading until the blanket was pulled from his hands, his eyes squinting from the sudden light flooding into them.
“NOHOHO! No, fuhuhuck- dohohon’t!” He began to beg once more, turning onto his back as much as he could as he attempted to wrangle both George and Sapnap’s hands in the process. Instead, his wrists were captured by Sapnap and held up against his chest, forcing Dream to sit up slightly, his back arched forward at an awkward angle. “Ow, Sahaphap, it hurts!” 
“Oops, sorry baby!” He giggled, placing a quick kiss on each wrist before bringing them down to rest on his thighs. The blonde whined as he leaned back against the mattress, biting back a smile as the stubble tickled the sensitive skin there. He readjusted himself to be more comfortable but was interrupted as George began to poke all over his torso once more.
“Stohop! Y-You don’t hahave to do this!” He tried his best to give the two his best puppy dog eyes, pouting through his laughter. The two boys above him just giggled at the suggestion, exchanging knowing smirks before turning their attention back to Dream, who was still in a fit of chirps and squeals from the pokes he was receiving. 
“Obviously we don’t have to,” George spoke, making Dream turn his head slightly to lock eyes with the elder. He felt his stomach flip as the grin on his face grew even wider. “We want to.” 
Sapnap moved as George spoke, sliding Dream’s wrists from his thighs to the bed, pressing down to secure them next to his hips as he protested. The youngest boy giggled when Dream tried to sit up again, only to be pushed back down against the duvet by George. 
“Apologize!” He demanded, using his free hand to poke into Dream’s stomach a few times, prompting the blonde to let out a yelp before falling into loud cackles. He tried his best to dodge the wiggling finger, twisting his body from side to side but quickly giving up once he realized George followed him every way that he turned. 
“I dihihidn’t do anythihihing!” 
“He can’t be serious.” He heard Sapnap mumble to George, making him shake his head back and forth slowly with a tight-lipped expression in fake disappointment.
“Dreamie, Dreamie, Dreamie. Will you ever learn?” As George let out a sigh, starting to lightly spider his fingers on either side of his tummy, still over his shirt and smiling when it seemingly drove Dream mad anyway. 
“P-Plehehease! Not thehehere!” Dream pleaded as he attempted to buck his hips up. Sapnap continued to sit sturdy on his waist, not allowing him to make his targeted movement. The youngest boy pressed his wrists down further into the bed to really emphasize on the fact he was stuck and under the mercy of his two best friends.
“Not there? Not on your ticklish little tummy? Why not, Dream?” Sapnap teased, creating a new kaleidoscope of butterflies in his stomach as he continued to laugh and writhe beneath him. 
“Thihis is sohoho cruel! I-I cahan’t move my hahahands!” He complained through his high pitched squeals, looking between the two with pleading eyes and hoping one of them would give in and end the tickling. However, the smirks that were plastered on their faces told him otherwise.
 “Awh, poor baby! You should be able to block your tummy with your hands being right there, huh?” George taunted, grabbing Dream’s attention and only continuing when the boy nodded in agreement. “It must be so much more ticklish knowing that you can’t.” 
The comment sent Dream into another fit of cackles, still trying to pull at his arms to free himself but finding it harder and harder when his strength was constantly wavering due to his laughter. 
Dream felt a cool breeze on his tummy and looked down in horror as he watched George slowly lift his shirt up, making his giggles more panicked and sporadic. He squeezed his eyes shut as George’s pointer finger poked around his belly button, making him squeak between the bright giggles the spot produced.
“Hey Dream, how much does this tickle from 1 to 10?” Following the question, George hooked a finger onto the rim of his belly button and began to lightly pull at the bottom edge. The blonde shrieked before falling into hysterics, kicking his legs against the bed as much as he could as George continued his assault on the sensitive little dip in his tummy.
“NOHOHO! Noho plehehease! Dohohon’t- Gohohod nohoho!” Dream’s laugh was high pitched and slightly raspy as George circled his finger around the rim of his belly button slowly, adding slight pressure as he went to make Dream squeal.
“I didn’t hear a number!” George spoke with mischief in his voice, the pitch higher and words drawn out to tease with a purpose. Dream lifted his head slightly to look at George, twisting his face into the best scowl he could make through his continuous laughter. The brunette laughed at that, rolling his eyes at the unnecessary aggression that Dream was trying to pull off. “Come on, pup, it’s just a simple question.” 
“FUHUHCK OFF, GEOHOHORGE!” Dream’s voice was booming through his laughter with how flustered he was becoming, feeling his cheeks heat up and cursing himself for how easily he was made to blush. The two boys above him knew all the things that make him squirm, and it seemed to him as if they were going down a list and checking each one off. He let out a quick whine after he took in a deep breath, trying to turn his body from side to side to dislodge George’s finger.
“I would just answer the question, Dream.” Sapnap chimed in as George slowly began tracing the rim of his belly button. Dream broke into loud laughter at the sensation, flexing his fingers out and back into tight fists as he squirmed. 
“NAHAHA- NOHOHO, OKAY! I- TEHEHEN! TEN!” 
George moved his finger from the edge, tracing a squiggly line towards his right hip bone. He switched his pointer finger out for his thumb as he rubbed soothing circles into the muscle, not enough pressure to tickle terribly, but enough to keep the smile on his face while also melting him into a pile of giggles.
“Good boy, Dream! Now, are you gonna apologize?
“For whahat?! I didn’t doho- nohoho wait! WAHAHAHAIT!” 
George sat up on his knees, leaning against his left hand that was still pressed into Dream’s shoulder to hold him down and using his thumb and pointer finger to knead into his lower tummy, just under his belly button. Dream howled at the action, almost immediately breaking and begging for mercy.
“OKAHAHAY OKAY! I’m sohohorry!” George slowed his pinching to a halt, keeping them pressed against the skin and turning to Sapnap to see if he accepted the apology or not. Dream’s stomach felt like a car with an overturned engine, the nervousness erupting in little bursts as Sapnap shook his head with a grin. 
“I will only accept ‘I’m sorry that I was so cocky when I’m so ticklish’, actually.” Sapnap stated simply, the smile on his face clear in his voice. He squeezed Dream’s wrists twice with a playful intent, watching as the older boy attempted to twist his arms to break free and chuckling when he realized he wasn’t able to and grunted in frustration at his defeat. 
“What?! Nohoho! I’m nohot saying that!” Dream shook his head quickly, looking at Sapnap with furrowed brows as if in disbelief. Sapnap only grinned back at him, shrugging his shoulders. Dream jolted forward when George’s finger twitched against his skin, as if it was reminding him of its presence; As if he could forget.
“No? I guess I’ll stay here, then.” George giggled as Dream’s laughter practically jumped an octave when the wiggly finger burrowed itself into his belly button, lightly tickling around the walls and just barely grazing the knot at the bottom of it. The blonde let out a high pitched scream before dissolving into silent laughter, throwing his head back against the bed with bright red cheeks. The elder watched as the blush slowly spread up to the tip of his ears and down his neck, eventually reaching his tummy. He felt an elbow lightly against his right bicep and turned his attention to Sapnap.
“Alright, I think this little goober has had enough.” George watched as Sapnap looked down at Dream with fondness in his eyes. He was very much still in hysterics as George’s finger remained where it had been, but remained still to provide the younger boy with some relief. 
“Awh but Sapnap! Look! His tummy is blushing, he loves it!” 
“He does, but even puppies who love getting tickles have their limits, don’t they baby?” Dream felt his face heat up in response to the remark, turning his head and shoulders as much as he could to hide his face in the pillows next to him. 
“Plehehease!” His muffled whines made George and Sapnap giggle, softening their demeanors and melting at how adorable the blonde was. Sapnap loosened the grip on his wrists, running his thumbs over the thin skin of his wrists as he spoke.
“You know what to say, darlin’.” He spoke in an exaggerated southern accent, making George cackle and Dream’s laughter grow louder once more. This sent Sapnap into a fit of laughter, creating a domino effect and making the boys fall into a symphony of laughter. After a few minutes, they regained their composure and were back to the task at hand.
“Well?” George prompted Dream. He heard the younger boy kick his feet a few times against the bed behind him, smiling when he let out yet another whine in disapproval. Dream stomped his foot one more time to prove his point before letting out a loud sigh, rolling his eyes at George before meeting Sapnap’s gaze.
“I’m sorry I was sohoho cocky when I’m- I’m…so-” Dream huffed out a stream of air through his nose in a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, squeezing his eyes shut before continuing. “So t-ticklish.” 
“Wow, so SO ticklish, huh?” Sapnap finally let go of Dream’s hands and moved from his place on his hips to kneel next to the blonde instead. “I already knew that, but thanks for reminding me!” 
Dream groaned through tiny giggles, immediately bringing his hands up to cover his face the minute Sapnap had freed them. He turned his body and curled forward slightly until his head pressed into Sapnap’s knee, relaxing with a sigh when the youngest boy started to card his hand through the messy curls. 
“I think we tired him out.” He heard George comment from behind him, feeling the bed dip and a sudden warmth pressed into his back. It continued to spread over his waist, only getting warmer as George’s grip around him grew tighter to pull him into a backwards hug. Dream brought his shoulder up as George buried himself into the crook of his neck, tickling Dream in the process and making him squeal. 
“More like you killed me.” Dream mumbled, leaning his head back to rest against George’s to be closer to him, still covering his face with his hands. Sapnap reached up and gripped each hand lightly, pulling them down slowly to give Dream the opportunity to stop him. 
He didn’t. 
“Oh hush, you idiot, you’re fine.” Sapnap ran a hand through his hair once more before making a move to lay down next to Dream, now wedged between his body and the wall behind him. He didn’t want to admit it, but this had been the coziest he’s felt in months. Sapnap smiled as he draped an arm over Dream, resting against George’s side in an attempt to feel connected to both boys. 
Dream felt himself being pulled into Sapnap’s chest, George automatically following him as if they were magnets. He smiled as he wrapped his arms around Sapnap, feeling George’s hand rest against his own shoulder with a soft squeeze. He let out a deep breath as he let himself fall asleep, feeling safer than ever in the arms of his two favorite people.
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aterfish · 3 months
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Good thing it was a short spin
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drawnfamiliarfaces · 5 months
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Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Ninjavember Days 25-30! 🎉🎉🎉
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hailsatanacab · 3 months
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I'll ask after that secret number 8!
I only remembered secret number 8 because I saw your wip here! I'd started this one based on the same prompt, then lost said prompt and stopped working on it 😅
Instead of a snippet, I'm just dropping it all here - maybe that way I'll feel inspired to finish it?
———
It’s a full house for dinner tonight and, really, that should have tipped him off.
Bruce sits at the head of the table, smiling softly as he watches over everyone’s antics. Damian is regaling Dick with everything they saw at the zoo that day (Danny had been so happy to see Delilah the purpleback gorilla again, and her new little additions to the troupe, too!) and how well they are implementing the grant the Wayne Foundation had gifted them. Tim, Steph, Cass, and Duke are all engaged in a thumb-war tournament which Danny has no interest in participating in. It just wouldn’t be fair on them.
Danny loves that look. The one where Bruce’s eyes crinkle when he thinks none of the kids can see him. It oozes love and it makes Danny’s heart, his core, ache. 
It’s been a little over a year since Alfred found him on the street and managed to wrangle him back to the manor to stay—even after the whole biting thing when he realised how rich they were. 
A little over a year here and Danny’s starting to feel like family.
Starting to feel like he might, just maybe, like to make it official.
“Danny,” Bruce says, drawing everyone’s attention. Danny starts at his name, but Bruce’s voice is warm and calm, and his shoulders lose their tension almost immediately. “Danny, I have something I would like to tell you.”
“Uhhh…” is all Danny can croak out, eyes flicking back and forth between Bruce and the rest of them. Smooth. Looking good, Danny.
Except… they’re all happy. All smiles, all relaxed body language, all radiating calm and love and acceptance. Well, not Damian—his face is as thunderous as it always is—which at least means it’s nothing too out of the ordinary.
“Danny, first of all, I just want to impress upon you that this is in no way something you have to do. You are under no obligation to join us and, no matter what, you shall always be welcome with us in the manor.”
Wait, what? Danny squints at Bruce, trying to parse exactly what he’s saying… Is he—is this them asking to adopt him? Do they want to make it official, too? 
It’s been a little over a year and of course Danny has imagined calling Bruce ‘Dad’. Of course he’s imagined being part of the family, of course he wants to make it official!
He can’t help the beaming grin or the bright and bubbling “Yes!” already waiting on his lips. All Bruce has to do is ask, all Danny needs to hear is—
“I’m Batman.”
The smile freezes on Danny’s face.
His lungs stop working, his heart stops working, he stops working, he just—
“And I’m Nightwing,” Dick smiles, breaking the awkward silence. 
Danny’s eyes snap to him, and then down to Tim when he admits to being Red Robin. Duke is Signal, Steph is Spoiler. Damian begrudgingly tells him he’s Robin, but Danny can barely hear it over the ringing in his ears.
“I’m Black Bat.” Cass cocks her head, almost looking concerned. It always felt like she understood him the most. Whenever he was feeling low, too in his memories, or stewing after a nightmare, she was always there, ready to card her fingers through his hair and never mention his tears. It makes his heart ache to think of it now. “It’s okay, Danny.”
It’s meant to be reassuring, but how—how can it be okay? How? 
Danny’s spent a little over a year with them. A little over a year with Batman. 
Batman, who works with the Justice League, who works with…
A little over a year. 
Just under 16 months since he escaped.
“Danny? Are you alright?” Bruce asks
Finally, his lungs kickstart and suck in a shuddering breath, only for everyone to drop their smiles.
Didn’t take them long, did it? Now that their ruse is up, there’s no kindness in their eyes, they’re just… cold, calculating. Evaluating. 
“Why?” Danny gasps, his fingers tingling, his heart in his throat.
Just under 16 months since he—has he escaped? Or was this just another one of their experiments?
"I... I trusted you, why—" Danny chokes back a sob, gritting his teeth as his shoulders shake. Why? Why would they do this? "I was happy here, with you. I thought... Weren't you happy?"
"Danny..." Bruce is looking at him, eyes narrow and eyebrows pinched, in some cruel facsimile of confused concern and all Danny can think is how much of an actor he is. How well he can play the part of a doting father. How much he made him want that.
"I don't understand, why..." 
"I'm sorry we didn't tell you before, I can imagine that it comes as a shock. We shouldn't have lied to you, Danny, but—"
"Stop it!" Danny slams his hands down on the table and pushes himself up on wobbly legs. Even standing, he feels so small. Smaller than Bruce, than all of his adopted siblings. They crowd above him when they all stand, too. "Just stop it! Why are you doing this, why are you still pretending? Stop it!"
It was easier, with Danny's biological parents. The knowledge that they'd do anything to get him on a lab table, to open him up and see what makes him tick, to rip him apart molecule by molecule, had always been there. He knew they hated ghosts. He knew they hated Phantom. He knew they hated him. It was easier because it was something he'd known all his life. When he died, when he became a ghost, he knew what to expect from them. It hurt, of course it did.
But it was easier than this.
"Danny, I'm going to need you to take a deep breath. You're having a panic attack and you need to breathe."
"Breathe?" Danny laughs, the sound harsh and choking, too high pitched in his hysteria. "You're joking, right? Or is this just more of the—the experiment?"
"Danny, please, we don't know what you're talking about, you—"
"You don't know? You're Batman! You work with the Justice League, you work with—" His words choke off as his stomach churns, bile rising in his throat. His whole body itches, screaming at him to leave, he can't go back, he can't, he can't, he can't!
Bruce takes a hesitant step forward and Danny scrambles back, his feet catching on the chair behind him and sending him careening to the floor. Where are the agents? Why aren't they swarming in, ready to apprehend him, strap him back on the table, carve him from the inside out.
"Please, Danny, calm down. We don't—"
Danny stops listening. His back hits the wall and he pulls his knees into his chest, his shoulders dipping down as he begins to sob. His heart throbs inside his throat, too painful to swallow around. Tears fall hot and heavy on his face.
Sure, he could run. He could phase out through the wall and he could be out of Gotham in a couple of hours. He's escaped the GIW once, he can do it again.
But that was before Batman knew who he was. Before he had the World's Greatest Detective on his tail.
Before he... 
He really thought this would be different, you know?
He wanted to make it official.
"Why did... Why were you so nice to me? Why did you make me like you? I really—I really liked you. I-I thought we could be a family."
"Danny, we are a—"
"Don't lie to me!" Danny snaps, but the force of his anger leeches all the fight from him, and suddenly all that's left is a bone-weary tiredness. There’s a lump in his throat that hurts. There’s a line down his chest that burns. "I don't care. I don't care anymore, I don't. Just... don't make me go back there. Please." 
Is it futile? He thought he knew how the GIW operated by now, the depths that they would go to achieve their results, but this... this was a whole new level of pain that Danny thought he had left behind him in Amity.
"We're not going to make you go anywhere, Danny, you're safe here, I promise."
"Safe? Safe? You must have—" he takes a deep breath, tries to stop the quivering of his voice. It’s all starting to make sense, now.  "The reason you're telling me who you are is because you must have told them everything already. I know the Justice League—I know you're working with them, which means the ex-experiment is over now, and they're coming to take me back. And I can't go back."
"Danny—"
"I can’t!” Danny glares at Bruce with all the rage he can, fingernails digging into his skin. “I’m not going back!"
"That's right, you're not going back, Danny. I won't let that happen." Bruce crouches down in front of Danny, his hands open and raised as if he's trying to say he's not a threat. "I don't know who you're talking about, and I'm sorry about that, but I can promise you that you’re not going back there. We will keep you safe."
Danny pulls himself closer, tucks himself further into the wall, eyes flickering all across the room waiting for that tell-tale flash of white as the agents start to swarm.
He should take his chances now and run, he should go, he needs to go!
The rest of them, his brothers and sisters of a little over a year, are spread out, giving him and Bruce some space. The same concern colours all of their faces. Why are they still pretending?
Steph is chewing on her thumb. 
Danny liked Steph and her brash confidence, her jokes. She's been promising to paint his nails for months now, they've just never found the time. He was going to go for green and black, or maybe a galaxy theme, depending on what she felt comfortable doing.
He likes them all.
"You were supposed to be my family." His mouth turns down at the corners and his voice shakes like a child. "You were supposed to—why? Why would you—I don't understand why you would make me like you..."
"This isn't an experiment, Danny," Bruce's voice is steady, soothing. "I promise."
"But you work with them and—"
"Who do I work with?"
"The Justice League."
"Yes, I do, but we—"
"And the Justice League works with them. The GIW." Danny trembles with the name, clutching tightly onto his hoodie. "I'm not going back there, Bruce."
Danny doesn't miss Bruce's look over his shoulder, nor Tim's nod in return. Tim turns slightly to the side to hide his movements, but Danny bets he has his phone in his hand, probably letting them know they can take him now. Guess this is it, then. They'll be here soon, and he'll be gone.
"Kill me."
"Danny? What do—"
"If you ever had any kindness for me, if you ever cared, kill me. Please, Bruce. I can't do it again."
"Danny..."
"End me now. Take my core out and break it, please, before they get here."
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archangeldyke-all · 4 months
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What if sevikas chihuahua and the readers dog start playing with each other at the park while their both walking their dog (like in legally blonde when elles chihuahua went up to that big Rottweiler) and then sevika and the reader end up going on a date?
CUTEEE
men and minors dni
zaun is a dangerous city, especially for someone like you.
a single woman, who lives alone on a first floor apartment? you're a prime target for muggings or burglaries in the undercity.
so, after a particularly scary walk home alone one night, you decide to get a dog.
you go to the shelter and ask for a big dog, something that will protect you and scare off potential attackers.
the attendant smiles and nods and takes you to a small room, then introduces you to sugar.
sugar's a gray pitbull, 60 lbs of pure muscle, and she's wearing a muzzle as the attendant brings her in.
he explains to you that sugar's nervous around men, hence the muzzle, and the second he leaves the room, her low growling and nervous expression melt into pure joy as she waggles her tail hard enough for her butt to shake and the two of you play together.
sugar steals your heart. she's a playful, loving, nervous wreck of a dog, and when she's not busy tapdancing at your feet with excitement, she's resting her chin on your lap and begging you for pats with her big, glossy, puppy eyes.
you take her home with you the next day.
you and sugar become inseparable. your boss lets you take her to work to sit behind the counter while you work alone, in an extra effort to keep your customers in line.
nobody gives you shit anymore. drunk customers don't try to steal, old men don't try to flirt, you don't get catcalled on your walk to and from work, and it's all thanks to your sweet baby, growling and baring her teeth whenever someone gets a bit too close to you.
sugar's nothing but smiles and cuddles when kids or women come into work, turning on her back and waiting for belly rubs, licking kids faces as they giggle, and nudging customers with her cold wet nose, gesturing to the little container of treats you keep on the counter, begging for them to sneak you one.
when you're not working, you're cuddling with sugar at home on your couch or in bed, curled around each other as a tv show plays or you read.
sugar loves chicken, tug of war, and cuddles. but above all else, sugar loves the dog park.
tonight, you're tired and grumpy. you've had a long fucking week, and all you want to do is curl up in a ball and sleep until you have to clock back in on monday. so when sugar wakes you up from your after-work nap by pressing her cold wet nose against her face, you almost turn over in bed and go back to sleep. but when her sweet, excited whines start up and she runs to the living room and fetches her leash for you, you can't deny your sweet baby.
grumbling and throwing on a robe, you hook sugar up to her leash and shuffle out of your house, beginning the quick walk to the park.
when you get there, you let sugar off her leash and she immediately starts doing her laps, sniffing and digging and barking with glee. you laugh and shake your head at your furry baby, before pulling a joint out and lighting up.
you relax against the bench, chuckling as you watch sugar run to and fro. behind you, the gate to the dog park clinks, and before you can look over your shoulder to see whose coming in, a teeny, tiny chihuahua runs up to your feet, snarling and yapping at you.
you giggle, and reach down to ruffle the tiny dog's floppy black ears. this seems to satisfy the puppy, and she gives you several licks before running off to mark her territory.
the little dog seems to think that she owns this park, because she barks at any dog who gets within a ten foot radius of her. this doesn't deter sugar, though, and she chases the chihuahua around the perimeter of the park, before the chihuahua turns around to chase sugar. you chuckle. it seems like sugar's made a friend.
"'s that your dog?" a low voice asks. you blink up and jump when your eyes land on a beautiful, tall, broad woman, standing beside your bench. you nod and laugh.
"sugar." you say, introducing your dog. the woman laughs. "you're the chihuahua's mom?" you ask, chuckling. the woman smiles and nods.
"slayer." she says. you cackle.
"seems like our dogs should swap names." you say. the woman chuckles.
"i'm sevika." she says, holding a hand out for you to shake. you smile and introduce yourself, scooting over on your bench to make room for the woman to sit.
you and sevika chat for hours as sugar and slayer play, sniff, and explore together. it's only when the park ranger comes by to kick you out that either of you realize how much time has passed. it doesn't matter, though, because after that night, you and sugar run into sevika and little slayer almost every evening.
sugar and slayer become best friends. you and sevika do too.
once you finally start dating (sevika invited you and sugar over for a 'play date' but then locked sugar and slayer in her bedroom, and turned the play date into a regular date with you, cooking you dinner and splitting a bottle of wine with you) sugar and slayer become inseparable.
for the first few months of your relationship, before the two of you move in together, any time one of you visits the other at their place, you bring your dogs along, so the two can cuddle and play while you and sevika also cuddle and play ;)
but once you guys move in together, sugar and slayer become a package deal.
slayer cries every morning when you and sugar leave for work, until you just give in and start taking both dogs with you.
if sugar's laying somewhere, you can bet your ass you'll find little slayer cuddled right up against her, or on some occasions, right on top of her.
both sugar and slayer are bed hogs, and there have been several occasions when you and sevika finally turn into bed, only to find your sleeping fur babies cuddled up on top of your spots. (you're both suckers, so you always let them sleep, pulling out the pull out couch for the two of you to sleep on for the night as the dogs sleep in your bed.)
cuddled up in bed one night beside sevika, you laugh as you watch slayer lick sugar's ear clean, grooming her best friend. you nudge sevika and she smiles at you.
"what're you laughin' at?" she asks. you gesture to your dogs on the foot of the bed.
"they're so cute. they're just like us." you say. sevika laughs.
"right, because i'm so petite and you're definetly the guard dog between the two of us." she teases you as she rolls her eyes. you just giggle.
"no, dumbass, you're sugar, i'm slayer. you've got the bite, and the scary claws and teeth and stuff, but you're really just a softie on the inside. and i'm your slayer, cute as hell and always bossin' you around." you say. sevika considers this and then smiles.
"you do yap a lot." she says. you giggle and elbow your girlfriend, and she pulls you against her side, kissing your scalp as she scratches your back. you relax into her, and in minutes, all four of you are asleep and snoring on the bed.
taglist!
@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666
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puppetmaster13u · 20 days
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Thinkin' of WOF Au for DC, but like, it's a Gothamite and Fawcett thing. (And Amity Park if crossover)
Like those are the most magical areas in the world, even if Gotham is cursed as fuck. An unspoken secret of sorts that while they present themselves as human to outsiders, they are all Very Much Not.
Which means hilariously in the league, when everyone expects Batman to be suspicious and short with the new guy- even made bets on it- they are then shooketh when both visibly relax and start talking. And half the shared complaints don't make sense!
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Now Gotham technically has no Queen, nor does Fawcett, but Batman and Captain Marvel are the closest things. Not in the traditional sense of back when they were in separate tribes (& maybe from a different dimension but shh that was millennia ago) but in the sense of, they're the ones patrolling and protecting the cities along with calling the shots in disasters.
Which does sort of change the dynamic they both have in their city. If one of them calls to arms, the city would follow them. They could declare war, and their cities (begrudgingly in Gotham's underbelly's case of strongest is in charge) would follow. And while Billy is oblivious, both Marvel-the-not-hivemind and Batman are. They know they have to be very careful.
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I'm sure we all want Nightwing Bruce but no. Bruce, like both his mother and father and father's father and so on before him, is actually an Icewing. The Waynes however, have a case of melanism running in their bloodline. Thomas Wayne? Only his quills and part of his back were darker, but Bruce? Practically pitch black scales that shadow his eyes.
Now Alfred on the other hand, is a Nightwing. No special powers there, though you would hear many a child protest with how he seems to know everything.
Commissioner Gordon is a Mudwing, big stocky and very tired, which translates to his human disguise as a large trenchcoat. He finds this very amusing. Barbara similarly, is half Mudwing. Her mother was a Hivewing, making her a hybrid between both. Which does ironically mean that Batgirl does in fact have insectoid wings. Though that does ponder the question on if they'd all go by their original vigilante names.
Dick is a Silkwing. Wingless as he watches his parents fall and unable to do anything despite this place supposedly being safe for beings like them. He grows into his own, and his wings, when they come in, are dark Gotham colors through and through, with the deep blue of the sky he's come to crave.
Jason is a hybrid between a Mudwing and a Skywing. He's also an animus- not that he knew that. He doesn't find out until he's dying, telling himself to not die, to get back to Gotham, to his dad, his family- And then he wakes up in his Coffin, alive.
Now Cass, raised to be the perfect killer, is also a hybrid, just one between a Nightwing and a Rainwing, egg set out under the moon. Which succeeds, partially. She can't straight up read minds, but combined with her talent in reading body language on both human and inhuman bodies, it's a near thing.
Tim is a Seawing, borderline abandoned by his parents who seek treasures and more wealth as he's trapped back in a city where the water is dark and poisoned. But he's Gothamite, through and through, and he adapts. Scales darker than the original blues he was born with, and glow shifting to that sickly white of the Gotham's Bats.
Now Steph, is a full-blooded Rainwing, and can in fact change her scales, but can mostly be found in purples and golds. Though for a short time she was in another set of colors, thought dead before she slithered out of the shadows older and wiser than before.
Damian is his father's son, but he's also an Al-Ghul. The not-quite dragonet is half Icewing, and half Sandwing. And struggled to adjust at first, to a place so different from his first home where the only other dragons were blood related. But like any Wayne before him, he adjusts, and he adapts.
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Billy wasn't a Beetlewing originally, and perhaps he would have hesitated if he'd known it would change him, would change his body and the last thing he had of his parents. But his friends, his Team and new family help. And he can pass as a Silkwing like their sort-of foster mother. All six of them can do so now, even if the others look more like hybrids themselves thanks to not being the Champion. They might not be, but they're his family. And that's enough.
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gianttol · 1 year
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♡ GT July 2023 Prompt List ♡
Big thanks to @pocket-ozwynn for helping with the prompts!
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gallawitchxx · 21 hours
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🔥 strength from the fuck-u-up tarot 🔥
Ian felt as if his heart might burst from his body. There wasn’t any logic to what he was feeling, what he knew was happening between them. No reason, no rationality. It was just magic. Just love. Fuck, could it really be love? “C'mon, let's light these fuckers up,” Mickey pushed, holding up the lighter. Ian nodded and Mickey picked up the vessel, tipping it to the side, the lighter disappearing into the open mouth. Snick! A smile crept onto Mickey’s lips as he watched the leaves catch, all of his and Ian’s baggage quickly being engulfed in a brilliant fire. It wouldn’t burn up completely, of course. They’d both have to continue to work on their own and together to unpack it all. Build something new, together. But this was a potent jump start. A promise, and a pledge. An undertaking. an exception to the rule | ch. 6: nor the furious winter's rages
[see additional cards on ao3]
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doodleodds · 2 years
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royalty & fairy tale au’s are meant to be mixed and u can’t change my mind
Late shuake week 2022 day 3 - Royalty AU
#shuakeweek2022#akechi goro#kurusu akira#I JUST REALLY LOVE SLEEPING BEAUTY OK#or well. i love the idea of 'sleeping curses.' idk why! they've always fascinated me#i used to be obsessed with aurora and snow white for that reason#and so here i am! as always! projecting this interest of mine onto my favorite characters :)#also for reference because i just realized how weird it reads: goro's gonna be in the tallest tower when he's cursed#that's why akira's got a reason to climb it. so. yeah#also in case you were wondering why i said 'see you tomorrow with more art' and then proceeded not to post for.....four days:#1) work decided that i'm going to be doing more hours so i now have very little free time;#2) i decided to actually try my hand at coloring again like an IDIOT and now here we are. sigh. coloring is hard#i was trying to hard not to just overdose on comic dots again lol & it resulted in this nonsense. me and my one very textured stone wall#ANYWAY lmao even though i missed like. every single day of akeshu week so far i'm still gonna be doing the prompts#just at my own pace! so. hopefully expect more art. soon. ish. hopefully not with another uhhh 2 month gap like last year lol#also quick fun fact since you made it this far in my tags! that second page originally wasn't supposed to be there!#i drew sleeping goro just cause i could and i was just gonna stick him under a read more but then i got attached lmao#and now he's in the main post! :D yayyyyyy goro#ANYWAY that was super long. thanks for reading & i hope u have a lovely day!!!!
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sollucets · 11 months
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as a tiny prompt: aye wearing akks clothes (maybe an iconic tank top that's a bit too big on him) and akk feeling a certain way
hi nonny i am at last back at it again. thank you for your patience! ✨i think akk's more iconic of his 2 tank tops is definitely the teal one
we are in the post-os2 long-distance akkaye timeline again; 1.2k, rated t for they're kissing
💜
It’s well into the afternoon when Akk finally hears the telltale sound of movement in his bed. His desk, across his dorm room, faces away, and he doesn’t bother turning from the chair to look. It’s going to take Aye a little while to actually wake up, and the last Akk had seen he’d been sprawled face-down across the pillows, taking up nearly all the room in an already too-small bed. 
So instead, he keeps writing, the little scratching noise of his pen the only sound in the room. Akk usually works with something playing in the background, but he’d forgone music in deference to Aye’s recovery from nineteen hours of air travel. He’s also not really working, not so soon after the end of term; he sets back to writing in his journal, content enough to wait just a little longer. 
Like he’d expected, it’s a while before he hears the telltale groaning of Aye actually getting up. He resists the urge to look for a while, but eventually turns to glance over his shoulder and catches the bathroom door closing, hears the sink turn on. He smiles. 
A few minutes later, he again doesn’t look up when the door opens and Aye’s arms loop around him from behind, a chin digging into his shoulder. 
“Good afternoon,” Akk says mildly, gently leaning the side of his head against his boyfriend’s. 
Aye whines, incoherent, and squeezes around Akk’s shoulders. He smells like toothpaste. 
“That bad, huh?”
“What time is it,” Aye mumbles, almost directly against Akk’s ear. 
“It’s half past two, and I probably should’ve woken you up earlier. The jet lag isn’t going to get any better like this.”
Aye lets out a muffled groan and drops his face into Akk’s shoulder, breath warm against the skin. He has to be leaning over the back of the desk chair, and it can’t be comfortable, but he’s clinging so thoroughly it’d be hard to detach him. He says something, barely audible. 
“What?” 
“What are you doing?” Aye enunciates more clearly, sounding both definitely still sleepy and distinctly pouty. Akk can feel his lips moving. “Pay attention to me.”
“I’m journaling,” Akk answers, laughing a little. Deliberately, he adds another word. 
“What happened to my cute boyfriend from yesterday who missed me so much he cried at the airport?” 
“Your cute boyfriend from yesterday had to carry you inside from the car and as such doesn’t miss you anymore,” Akk answers primly, holding in a laugh. “Also, you cried too.”
“You just called yourself cute,” Aye says, sighing dreamily. “You should write it in your journal. This is a historic moment.”
“Shut up.”
Aye scoffs theatrically. “Listen to you. I’m never so mean.” 
Akk pointedly gets another two words written down and very generously doesn’t refute Aye’s bald-faced lie. “I’m not mean. I let you sleep in, didn’t I? And I made lunch, but it’s in the minifridge now.”
Against his shoulder, Aye’s lips curve first into a smile and then into a kiss. 
Akk melts a little. He hadn’t known, really, how much he missed this. He thought he knew, but he didn’t. 
“You made lunch for me?” Aye asks, sounding delighted despite how he’s pulling his arms away. “I guess I can forgive you then. I am hungry.”
Akk spins in his chair, glancing up. “We can—“ he starts, before the words catch in his throat. 
Aye’s hair is down, soft and in his eyes. That’s the first blow. The second is his bare legs, the edges of boxers just barely visible under the hem of the third shot directly to the heart, one of Akk’s tank tops. 
On Akk, it’s already oversized, and on Aye the effect is worse. He can see the curve of Aye’s waist where the side hangs open, paler than the rest of his skin. It contrasts prettily against the blue-green of Akk’s shirt. His eyes stick there, tracing the shape of it over and over until without his conscious input he reaches out and curls his fingers around that waist, tugging Aye abruptly forward into his lap. 
Aye makes a cut-off little noise of surprise, just barely getting his legs to the side in time. His skin under Akk’s hand is warm and soft and his weight in Akk’s lap is familiar even after all these months away, and his mouth is still in a cute little ‘o’ of surprise. 
He rallies quickly, though, and that ‘o’ morphs into the cat smile Aye wears only at his most self-satisfied. Leaning forward to keep his balance, he sets his hands lightly on Akk’s chest and says, a laugh in his voice, “Does my cute boyfriend still miss me after all?”
Blinking a couple times and valiantly fighting the urge to dig his nails in, Akk says, “You’re wearing my shirt.”
It’s hardly the first time. Aye loves stealing Akk’s clothes, and he’s seen it before — but the combination of all that skin and Aye soft and real and in his room and his shirt and now his lap is doing something to him. Aye’s here to steal his clothes again, here and tangible in his arms. 
“So I am. Most of mine are still in my bags.” Aye’s tone is fond as he stares down at whatever dumbstruck expression Akk is wearing, but it goes darker as he asks, “Do you like that?” 
Akk tries to drag his eyes up through the sea of radio static that his higher thought processes have become, but before his face is another stopping point; his collarbone, visible from the drape of the tank top and sadly unmarked. His left hand comes up until his thumb can run over that exposed skin.
He feels more than hears Aye take a breath in, and lets his fingers follow the motion up the column of his throat. It vibrates as Aye says, a little shakily, “I guess that answers that question.”
Akk, who would usually roll his eyes but is distracted by the way Aye licks his lips after speaking, finishes the journey to curl his hand around the back of Aye’s neck and pull him down. Aye goes easily, melting into the kiss with a sigh that Akk has heard a million times and also not in months. They’d kissed last night, brief and soft and clumsy with sleep once he’d finally gotten Aye into the safety of their dorm, but not like this. 
No, not like this at all; he feels teeth against his upper lip. Aye’s hands leave his chest to wander down to his waist then back up to his shoulders and cling there, squeezing pressure through fabric. It feels a little like Aye might understand it, like he might get the ache in Akk’s hands and heart to hold him as close as possible. Akk makes a soft noise into his mouth, shifting in the chair, and they break apart for a moment, just far enough that their noses still touch. 
“So,” asks Aye, breathy but still somehow infuriatingly smug, “Do you want me to keep it on, or take it off?” 
In retaliation, Akk summons all his willpower and says, “I thought you were hungry.”
Aye leans in again, close enough that their lips brush, and whispers, “Shut up.” 
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minthara · 1 month
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the way german men wanna go 50/50 on eveyrhting makes u think they're gonna carry ur baby for 4.5 months and do half the pressing lmfao
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minecraftbed · 10 months
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a desertduo fic based on the songAugust by flipturn
it’s so them right im not delusional
August: a song about a relationship that only works out during the month of august, wherein it seems perfect. After august it falls apart, until the next august comes around. 
title: octagonal
wordcount: 971
rating: T
ao3: HERE
“Hey, catch.”
Grian barely had time to finish pulling off his sweater before something equally as red entered his peripheral. He jumped backwards with a squeak and a fluff of wings, the object landing by his feet with a thud. An apple, shiny like glass under the desert sun.
“That wasn’t… you can’t just throw things at me, Scar—” the words were annoyed but laced with amusement as he adjusted his tank top. “—and expect me to react on time.” 
“Well,” Scar bit into his own fruit like an animal, juice running down his fingers, down his wrist, down his arm. “What if I’d been an enemy?”
“You aren’t.”
“And…! —And what if that had been TNT.”
Grian sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have wanted  to catch it, would I?” 
Scar took a second, canting his head and staring at him, apple frozen in motion towards his mouth. Then, the lightbulb went off. “Oh…” a chuckle. “Oh, I guess not.” 
It was contagious; the way they bickered and laughed, the constant back and forth as they worked. Hands splintered from planks of wood, then calloused from rough sandstone bricks. The foundations of their new …home… were beginning to take place. 
(Really, it was Grian doing the work. Scar stood around shirtless and thought up ways to scam people.)
The sun, high in the sky, unchanging as they changed beneath it. 
————————————-
The new world was different.
Grian noticed it from day one; the shift in tone, they went from orange to blue. 
It didn’t help that there was the looming threat of what everyone was calling ‘the boogeyman’. As if they were twelve. As if the insatiable, sudden need to kill one of your friends was as light as the stories parents told their children so that they would go to sleep.
Maybe it was, Grian hadn’t experienced either. 
But he felt the effects. People stood further away during conversations, hands itching by their sides ready to draw. No one wanted to be alone, either, but it was worse to be alone with another. Anyone could turn. Anyone could kill.
The curse brought on an ultimatum: them or you. And who in their right mind wouldn't choose the former? 
It was dark when he saw Scar for the first time. Part of him knew he should be cautious, memories burnt fresh into his brain of blood on his sword, in his hair, his skin. Together they had taken down everything and everyone, including themselves. Behind that annoying lopsided smirk and fake diamond armour, Scar hid what he was capable of. 
Grian wasn’t scared of his violence. No, no. His words, they were a completely different thing to fear.
“...So I can’t put you on the back of a llama and take you to the desert?”
It hurt, in an unexpected way. The type of way where you end up angry at yourself for not preparing on time. His mental walls were only half constructed, architecturally weak, and Scar had found the point to prod on his first try. Grian laughed, shrill and light as his heart crawled further inside. 
He needed severance.
“Hey… have you tried transferring a life yet?” 
The new world was different.
“No, I haven’t!”
He would be different.
————————————-
His throat stung, dehydrated lips cracked. Grian’s scream would unendingly echo throughout the ravine.
He waited, and waited, and waited. Alone in the desert, dizzy with heatstroke, uncertain of what was to come. When Scar finally showed up, he wasn’t sure if he was real or a mirage; he spoke to him anyway. 
The flowers. Lilacs and poppies. Grian clutched the wilted bundle in his fist, torn between them and the new shade of Scar’s eyes.
“Can we still be friends?”
Could they? Did Grian care if they couldn’t? It was just stupid rules of a stupider game. Half of everything was made up on the fly, and the other half broken whenever someone felt like it. They were too carefree, when nothing was there to enforce them. 
Grian didn’t want to admit it, but somewhere along the muddied lines, his obligation had grown into greedy devotion. He needed Scar, and Scar needed him. At least if they got any more parasitic the vultures would have something to feast on. 
“I think so? I still owe you my first life,” and the one after that, and the one after that.
They rearranged their sleeping quarters that night, silently communicating as they pushed two beds together. It was sticky and humid, but their hands stayed entwined until morning. 
Grian left the flowers on the windowsill, with thought that they would dry. 
————————————-
Grian had never experienced the boogeyman curse, but he had felt the effects.
“At least his bed is out here, so we don’t have to ruin his lovely house.”
That was something, right? 
They had built the obsidian spawn-camping death trap OUTSIDE of his lovely house. For that, Grian deserved a pat on the back. Joel gave him a funny look as the words left his mouth, the absurdity of the situation crawling down his spine. 
They needed these lives. Scar… Scar had too many. He didn’t need them like him and Joel did. —- Hell, he would lose them himself soon enough. All they were doing was stopping such an important resource from going to waste.
The method was… justified. 
So when Scar refused their offer, backing away from his beloved mountain, spewing lies, silver tongue tangled, Grian didn’t feel bad, loading his crossbow with bolt after bolt. Each one finding a place in flesh, in armour. Scar had made his choice.
At the end of the day, his heart was just a muscle behind his sternum. 
And Grian only knew how to touch skin when it was to brush away stray grains of sand.
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ladytauria · 6 months
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for the au game :) a supernatural creatures or shifter au for the batfam and/or pairing of your choosing!
thank you!!! this one was a lot of fun <333
i didn’t end up with either a pairing or a plot for this one, exactly, (there’s kind of a bunch of mini plots tbh) but i had a lot of fun imagining what supernatural creature each of the batkids could be~
i also went over 5 facts but. i blame bruce for that, tbh. he has too many kids :P
After Bruce’s parents are killed by some kind of creature, Bruce becomes a monster hunter. However, one way or another, all the children he adopts turn out to be monsters.
Dick has siren heritage (of the bird variety, not aquatic). It remains dormant until the Court of Owls brings it out of him. He adores the ability to fly, but it leaves him far more careful about his voice.
Jason is killed by Joker, a demon. His return is bathed in hellfire, now a lesser demon himself. He’s managed to keep a tight grip on his humanity, though—even if Bruce doesn’t always appreciate that.
Cass is half-vampire (a dhampir?). Though her need for blood isn’t as all-consuming as a full-blooded vampire, it’s still present, and something she struggles with greatly.
Steph is turned into a werewolf when Black Mask captures her. It’s part of the reason she fakes her death—she leaves to spend time learning to control her shifts.
Tim is a changeling—either he knew the entire time and hid it from everyone, or discovers this himself later in his life. It comes with some small ability to shapeshift and sense what people will find most pleasing. He is able to lie, and well, but is quite sensitive to iron.
Duke has angel blood—maybe he’s nephilim, or the child of a nephilim. (So half- or quarter-angel.) Bruce makes the mistake of thinking that his angel blood means Duke will be the most well-behaved. He’s wrong :)
Damian is half- or quarter-demon, and Bruce really only has himself to blame for that one. Because Talia is a major demon, though, or the descendant of a major demon, he’s about equal to Jason in power. Yes, this causes a lot of problems, lmao.
BONUS: Oracle isn’t just a title; Babs does have some minor precog powers. Alfred is either a (very old) fey or a vampire; he’s just been waiting for Bruce to notice :)
[ AU ask game ]
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merchantarthurn · 2 months
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Hello friend it has come to my attention the latest manga chap of WHA has Lil' Oru backstory and Lil' Oru adorable child self and I havent seen you commenting on it at all! Have I missed it. I read it and immediately thought 'My Tumblr friend whom I follow will be so excited'
yes!! ive been in bg3 hyperfixation hell so i've not been talking much about WHA in public lately but i was so excited when little utowin appeared, because i remembered he'd lived in the same town growing up and then [gestures]!!
some things which knit nicely into some interim headcanons for What Happened are that he was so young he'd not even passed the first test yet (it's neat to get a little look into more witches studying before they can pick a master - it seems like he was getting praised by a parent in one of the panels if their belt was anything to go by. not being comforted by them though.... :| i don't like either of the potential options for that). it really is Odd that he was out helping with witch duties before that, i presume they weren't the type that'd have you casting in front of non-witches. from what utowin said, witches seem in both high quantity and demand in the North for survival purposes... a part of me is curious on the side about how that's impacted the survival skills of the general populace, or if there's some changed by ancient magic level of Winterness happening up there. i saw that oddly shaped rock formation, shirahama!!
him being so young, seeing many die (the witches only mentioned adult witches dying, but i have a feeling there were also non-witch casualties given the previous flashback dream. i wonder who the two people he managed to save were?) it kills me ;;
it also has me turning his Being Mean To Agott moments over again - i'd already presumed his harshness was because he was connecting his own 'top student -> tragedy' pipeline but there's something about the happiness and praise he was receiving that makes that all the more sour (a lot of agott's more pushy moments seem born of insecurity rather than expectation). plus the river... it's interesting to me that he's the one who insisted in taking her along... and qifrey's reaction.... oh this contextttt to that moment makes qifrey's personal dread of it all the more layered.
it makes me wonder if olruggio was... kind of expecting there to be tragedy that'd snap agott out of her behaviour which... olruggio that's not okay, buddy--
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appleciders · 1 year
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@explosionshark​
"Lilith, stop. You're going to hurt yourself."
Lilith grins, teeth bloody. "You think that matters? Still, Shannon?"
"Lilith."
"Don't play naive. We both know how this ends, for both of us."
Shannon swallows, presses her eyes closed. Her life is all that stands between Lilith and the Halo—all that stands between legacy's lamb and the slaughter.
(It would be a more meaningful shield, if she weren't already branded herself.)
"I do," she says. "You know I do."
The evenness of her voice draws a pause, for a moment. Lilith's dark eyes find hers, hold.
All of Lilith is holding, actually. She hasn't moved since Shannon told her to stop.
Disobey me, Shannon wants to demand. Disobey all of us. For once, disobey, and leave, and live.
The irony—only to those words, Lilith would.
"It's the best for the mission," Lilith says, and there's a slight question, now, in the nocked arrow of her tone. "Unless you have no faith?"
"My faith in you has never been in question," not true, but she'll confess the lie to Vincent, who will understand.
"Just your faith in God, then."
Shannon lets the blow glance off her. "How will you protect your sisters if you're hurt, Lilith?"
"I'm protecting them through the advancement of the mission, so that they should not have to do it themselves." Obviously, Shannon hears, beneath. "So that you don't have to."
When she trains Lilith to be the next, they talk of temperance, patience, mercy. When you learn these things, I know you will be ready.
In truth, Lilith is too ready to become Warrior Nun.
But Lilith loves Shannon, loves her in a vicious, jagged, bony way.
These two facts sit inside each of them, pressed into the meat of their kidneys and livers—one the only thing that could ever stave off the other.
It won't be enough, though. Shannon knows it because for as long as Lilith obeys, she will be right—there's two ways this ends, and they are both the same—one ends with Lilith dead with a molten loop tearing out of her skin and the other ends with her dead, her back bare.
Shannon refuses to live to see the second.
"As your Warrior Nun, I'm telling you to fall back. We'll try again tomorrow."
Lilith wipes the back of her wrist against her bloody philtrum. "You cannot be serious. We're so close, Shannon.” Her tone sharpens. “Maybe I was right to question your faith."
But Shannon is serious, and she is faithful, and Lilith knows both. This is just a step, for Lilith to work herself down. To sheathe a weapon when it's yourself is no safe thing.
"We need to find Beatrice and Mary," Shannon says, instead of answering. She'll pay the dig back when they're safe in Cat's Cradle, and the retaliation can come with mirth.
Lilith’s face flickers. Beatrice. Mary. “Alright,” she says. “Let’s go.”
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sibella · 1 year
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the amazing matt @transkenobis made this INCREDIBLE art for chapter 1 of my silly little chess fic... genuinely blown away by how BEAUTIFUL and creative it is. 
top left: baby svetlana playing with her little chobot (chess robots) toys
top right: baby florence and her dad :(
bottom left: baby freddie and his homemade chess set
bottom right: ERROR. anatoly not found. for now at least
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