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avayarising · 3 months ago

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DPxDC prompt: Here is the News

“You’re watching CDTV Now, and I’m Ace Atchinson with a special feature. Last week, the nation was shocked when a team of junior heroes affiliated with the Justice League apparently vandalised one of America’s most beloved national monuments.”

A short, jerky video plays, showing an explosion on a large stone face – one of four carved out of the side of a mountain. The smoke clears to reveal a large hole where the nose used to be. Several figures fly out of the stone and are caught by some sort of flying vehicle. It swoops across the mountain and away.

“With me live in the studio this afternoon are some of the members of Young Justice, here to tell us their side of the story. Superboy, Wonder Girl, Impulse – did you destroy Mount Rushmore?”

“Yeah, we did,” says the boy with black curly hair and a leather jacket over his brightly coloured hero suit. A bar appears across the bottom of the screen. Superboy, it says. Member of Young Justice. “On purpose, too.”

The girl, with stiff black hair and large square glasses, scowls in his direction. “We weren’t trying to destroy it,” she says as the camera closes in on her. The bar across the bottom of the screen now reads Wonder Girl and Member of Young Justice. “We were rescuing our friend.”

“She’s a ghost you see and the apes captured her and held her in this secret base –” The brown-haired boy in goggles stops when he is nudged by the girl beside him. The bar flickers for a moment to say Impulse before returning to Wonder Girl.

“OK, so, we need to go back, like, five steps here. There was a secret government base inside Mount Rushmore where they were conducting inhumane experiments on ghosts.”

The host laughs in a strained, nervous way. “Ghosts?” he asks.

They nod. “I’d like to introduce you to another member of our team,” says Wonder Girl. A mist forms behind her as she speaks, and swiftly coalesces into the form of a pale, slight girl, hovering behind the sofa. “Um,” she says nervously. “My name is – I mean, I go by – Secret, and… I’m a ghost.”

-––––

“Danny! Turn on CDTV now!”

“What? Why?”

“Just do it!”

–––––

“–torture and imprisonment, and she hadn’t even done anything! They’re just prejudiced against ghosts because they think they’re dangerous!”

“She is dangerous,’ says the black-haired boy proudly. The label Superboy appears on the screen again, in case anyone had forgotten. “She can shape-shift and go through walls and even possess people –”

“K– Superboy!” hisses Wonder Girl. “Not helping!”

“I’m right here,” says the ghost girl. The people who do the labels have obviously been hard at work, because she now has one too, saying Secret and Alleged ghost. “And I can do those things, but that doesn’t mean I want to hurt people or –”

There’s yelling from off camera, and a crash. A bolt of blue-white energy flies past the camera and the image whites out. There’s a scream, and a burst of static. The image returns, fuzzy and striated. Another bolt of energy. A large man wearing white rushes into view. Someone in green boots and a yellow and black cape lands on his head and knocks him down. A bang, and the image turns sideways as the camera crashes to the floor. The sound cuts out. There’s smoke, and running feet, and suddenly the side of the studio sofa, before another flash of blue-white light and the screen goes dead.

Nothing happens for almost a minute, and then the TV starts playing a rerun of the highlights of last week’s sports game.

––––––––

“Well, shit,” says Danny.

Superboy here is not in fact Kon but Match pretending to be Kon and trying to sabotage the team. Robin was hiding in the ceiling behind a lighting rig because Batman is going through one of his ‘we are cryptids’ phases and wouldn’t allow him to appear on screen. Anita hasn’t joined the team yet, which is good because her dad is one of the agents and it would have been awkward.

#dpxdc #dpxyj98 #me on my greta agenda again #it’s always ‘haha young justice blew up mount rushmore’#and never ‘*why* did young justice blow up mount rushmore?’#in canon they never got to do the live interview they were planning #but what if they had and danny saw it?#my hobby:#conflating the white-suited people who capture ghosts and conduct torturous experiments on them in young justice 98 #with the white-suited people who capture ghosts and conduct torturous experiments on them in danny phantom

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hotvintagepoll · 7 months ago

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Propaganda

Xia Meng, also known as Hsia Moog or Miranda Yang (Sunrise, Bride Hunter)—For those who are familiar with Hong Kong's early cinema, Xia Meng is THE leading woman of an era, the earliest "silver-screen goddess", "The Great Beauty" and "Audrey Hepburn of the East". Xia Meng starred in 38 films in her 17-year career, and famously had rarely any flops, from her first film at the age of 18 to her last at the age of 35. She was a rare all-round actress in Mandarin-language films, acting, singing, and dancing with an enchanting ease in films of diverse genres, from contemporary drama to period operas. She was regarded as the "crown princess" among the "Three Princesses of the Great Wall", the iconic leading stars of the Great Wall Movie Enterprises, which was Hong Kong's leading left-wing studio in the 1950s-60s. At the time, Hong Kong cinema had only just taken off, but Xia Meng's influence had already spread out to China, Singapore, etc. Overseas Chinese-language magazines and newspapers often featured her on their covers. The famous HK wuxia novelist Jin Yong had such a huge crush on her that he made up a whole fake identity as a nobody-screenwriter to join the Great Wall studio just so he can write scripts for her. He famously said, "No one has really seen how beautiful Xi Shi (one of the renowned Four Beauties of ancient China) is, I think she should be just like Xia Meng to live up to her name." In 1980, she returned to the HK film industry by forming the Bluebird Movie Enterprises. As a producer with a heart for the community, she wanted to make a film on the Vietnam War and the many Vietnam War refugees migrating to Hong Kong. She approached director Ann Hui and produced the debut film Boat People (1982), a globally successful movie and landmark feature for Hong Kong New Wave, which won several awards including the best picture and best director in the second Hong Kong Film Award. Years later, Ann Hui looked back on her collaboration with Xia Meng, "I'm very grateful to her for allowing me to make what is probably the best film I've ever made in my life."

Anita Ekberg (War and Peace, La Dolce Vita)— I'm going to be frank with you. Every time I look at this woman, I lose my ability to form sentences.

This is round 4 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Xia Meng:

Anita Ekberg:

“I haven't seen much starring her (YET) but the scene of her in the Fontana di Trevi in La Dolce Vita is some of the most jealous I've ever been of Marcello Mastroianni maybe and that's saying a lot. Cinema history. Historical.”

#anita ekberg #Xia Meng #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 4

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dwarvenhobble · 1 year ago

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As one of those "Gamergate Nerds " (seriously do you fuckers even know what Chuds are or are you just repeating it to fit in?) allow me to respond. 1) There is no evidence of what actually happened to Anita, Anita claimed to be getting harassed the the press ran with it. Seriously got back and look at all the articles about her being harassed none of them show any such examples of said harassment. It was claimed to have happened in the Kickstarter comments. Well they were all archived No really https://web.archive.org/web/20230000000000*/https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/566429325/tropes-vs-women-in-video-games/posts/242547 You can read like 99.99% of the comments in the archives and you won't see this claimed abuse having ever happened. The comments were in fact backer only so only people paying could comment there from the start In recent years Anita has since claimed it was comments on the video linked in the Kickstarter. Only after she made it private so no-one could verify her claims. Added to that Anita at the UN claiming she believed it should count as harassment to tell her she's wrong online it really makes one question what exactly "harassment" Anita received

youtube

2) We do not control the media. The media chose to put out article after article about here promoting basically every video she put out on many different sites. We didn't rush to defend her thinking she was a Damsel in Distress like the media did and the media ran with it constantly propping her up. So yeh, actual sexism in the media not being willing to actually do the same kind of critical analysis to Anita's own work that Anita claimed to be doing to gaming.

3) As for "Feminism 101" maybe but it would be a branch of 2nd wave feminism that many see as out of touch and even in feminism much of the conversation had moved past these talking points and debunked what Anita was claiming outside of a small hardcore still in academia.

Well, with Anita Sarkeesian announcing she’s shutting down Feminist Frequency after 15 years, I felt like poking the hornet’s nest and asking if after all this time, it ever sank into the skulls of any of the trash nerd gamergate chuds out there that their own personal Anti-Christ would have probably never have been as well known or lasted as long if they hadn’t decided to all have a collective shit hemorrhage over what was ultimately the most basic-ass Feminism 101 takes imaginable. …oh what am I sayin’ of course it hasn’t.

#anita sarkeesian #feminist frequency #video games #gaming #videogames #gamergate #politics #I know I might as well be talking to a brick wall at this point but smeg it maybe one of the cult of Sarkeesian will wake up seeing this #Youtube

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hijinxinprogress · 1 year ago

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Young Justice is made up of snarky traumatized losers with terrible coping skills so whenever something bad happens or just mildly inconveniences them, they’ll just mutter something completely out of pocket

Any of them waking up in a gurney after a fight in response to ‘are you okay’: “I mean nothing will ever hurt more than the fact that my family will never know me as well as my friends do”

A villain giving some variation of the ‘we’re the same/we’re not that different from each other’ speech after doing some off the walls crazy ass scheme that harmed multiple people?

Cassie: it’s almost like being home

Cissie, nodding: and getting lectured by-

Kon, who only heard ‘lectured’ bc he’ll be damned if he has to pay attention to some villain monologue and Clark: -Superman?

Cassie and Cissie, imitating muscle man: My mom

Tim’s tech loses power for some reason while he’s doing research for a case?

“Okay cool, just die on me like my parents…no this is great”

A villain saying anything along the lines of ‘stop hiding’ or ‘where are you’ and a YJ member responding back “why are you more concerned with my whereabouts than my literal family?”

“Tim, where’s the evidence??”

“Gone like my parents for my entire childhood. Jesus, do I look like I know?”

Someone lies/betrays anyone in yj but particularly Anita or tim?

“Ooh, plot twist! I’m kidding, I’m always expecting someone to betray my trust”

“Is this the part where you reveal that we’re related???”

“I’m not saying I expected this but I kinda expected this…”

Anyone in YJ but particularly Tim and Bart in response to ‘how was your day?’:

“I don’t think I’ve ever really taken the time to process the death of my loved one(s)”

Anyone coping better than yj: “Are you…good??”

“Not really, no. Do you want an extremely detailed explanation for this cool thing I know?!”

A villain made an insult that hit a little to close home towards Cissie, Tim, or Cassie?

“The only person that’s allowed to make me feel like shit is my mom!”

“Thank you for that! God, it’s like talking to my mother.”

Bart gets hurt on a mission?

“Wow, that hurt almost as much as leaving my friends and family to their impending doom back home”

“Yikes, this is almost as bad as being stuck in the past with a family that wants nothing to do with me”

“I’m okay, nothing hurts more than when I realized despite having a family, my friends make up my entire support system…”

[These are all comments made casually to the titans or justice league bc YJ are deeply concerning individuals that traumabonded and think they’re funny (they are) but really they’re just traumatizing their mentors/coworkers and friends/loved ones]

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xamassed · 2 years ago

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𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑐ℎ 𝑓𝑙𝑜𝑤𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢?

sunflower. you are optimistic nearly to a fault. the friend everyone goes to when they are upset, you are selfless and caring by nature. but you have likely had a hard past, and understand what it means to commit towards stretching up to the sun. you're hard working and beloved by everyone who encounters you. extroverted, a leader, not a follower, and someone who delights in being surrounded by others. sometimes, you struggle to speak your feelings or admit to struggles. but it's okay to say you're not okay love, it's okay to be the one who needs some comforting every now and then! let yourself rest sweetheart.

tagged by: @goresugars ( thank!! ) tagging: whoever wants to do this!

#「 ( anita ; musings ) 」#( i guess this fits once someone's gotten to know her and she doesn't keep throwing her walls up )#( she gets pretty soft )#( not sure about selfless tho lmao )

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blueiscoool · 3 months ago

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Former Nazi Bunker Turned Into Luxury Hotel in Germany

At 58 meters tall - just a little taller than the Leaning Tower of Pisa, but with considerably more heft - the St. Pauli bunker in Hamburg, Germany, has dominated the city skyline for just over 80 years.

Built using forced labor during Adolf Hitler’s Nazi regime, it’s a relic of the darkest period in Germany’s history - but this concrete hulk has had a surprising rebirth.

The relaunched Hamburg Bunker is now packed with two restaurants, a five-story Hard Rock Hotel and a newly built pyramid-like rooftop bar and garden from which greenery flows abundantly over the concrete facade.

The REVERB by Hard Rock is a fitting addition to a city with an impressive musical history – this is, after all, where The Beatles began their career at the start of the 1960s.

The Karoviertel neighborhood in which the fortress-like bunker sits is a cool enclave filled with stylish coffee shops and vintage stores, plus the Knust nightclub in a repurposed abattoir.

The amenities

Rooms in the 134-key REVERB range from 180 euros for a classic room, with amenities including a 55-inch flat screen TV and Alexa in-room assistant, to 269 euros for a suite with sweeping citywide views.

The hotel also has the kind of modern details you’d expect in any self-respecting hip hotel, such as self check-in, smart technology and co-working spaces.

You don’t have to be a hotel guest to enjoy the bunker’s amenities, however. On the ground level, there’s the Constant Grind coffee shop and bar, and a Rock Shop for those seeking Hard Rock merch.

Bar-restaurant Karo & Paul, by German TV chef Frank Rosin, opened as a bar in April 2024 and occupies the first three levels of the building. The restaurant area is still coming soon.

The restaurant La Sala – Spanish for living room - is open for business on the fifth floor, offering lofty views and an international menu.

Finally at the top is the Green Beanie roof garden, with bar and walkway looping round the building, which can be accessed by the public for free.

The challenge

The Hamburg bunker was one of eight flak towers – above-ground anti-aircraft bunkers which doubled as air raid shelters - which Germany built after British air raids on Berlin in 1940.

The history the Hamburg Bunker wears is heavy, but a 76,000-tonne concrete behemoth with walls 2.5 meters thick can’t be easily demolished or ignored.

The only flak tower to have been completely destroyed is one at Berlin’s zoo, as the others are in heavily populated areas where the explosives involved would be too great a risk, AFP reports.

“The idea of raising the height of the building with greenery was to add something peaceful and positive to this massive block left over from the Nazi dictatorship,” Anita Engels, from the Hilldegarden neighborhood association which supported the project, told AFP.

The association has helped with this new chapter in the Hamburg flak tower’s history by collecting testimonies from people who lived in the wartime bunker as well as records of the hundreds of forced laborers who built it.

An exhibition on the first floor now tells the full story of the building’s history.

By Maureen O'Hare.

#Former Nazi Bunker Turned Into Luxury Hotel in Germany #St. Pauli bunker in Hamburg Germany #Hamburg Bunker #The REVERB by Hard Rock #flak tower #bunker #ww2 #ww2 germany #ww2 history #history #history news

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ghostlyglimmer · 3 months ago

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Lockjaw

Summary:

Missing for three weeks, Danny finally escapes, only to be found dead and taken to a funeral home. But death isn’t the end—Danny awakens on the embalming table with his jaw wired shut and terrifying new powers. Disoriented and desperate, he must find his way home, knowing nothing will ever be the same again. CW: Gore

Chapter 1: Bring me to Life

By GhostlyGlimmer

Anita Grayves stretched her back, each vertebra popping with a satisfying crack as she exhaled a long sigh. The dim, sterile light of the embalming room cast a clinical glow over her as she donned her PPE, the familiar rustle of the fabric and snap of the gloves a ritual she knew too well. Her technician, Dalton, rolled in the gurney with the next client, the wheels creaking slightly on the cold tile floor. With deliberate care, he unzipped the black body bag, revealing the still form inside.

Danny Fenton, just seventeen years old, lay before her. His once vibrant eyes, now milky white and clouded, stared unseeingly at the ceiling. The raven-black hair that had probably once been meticulously styled was now disheveled, a sharp contrast to the pallor of his skin. He was small for his age, almost fragile-looking, and Anita couldn’t help but feel a pang of sorrow as she gazed down at him.

But it was the Y-shaped scar on his chest that made her pause. Her brow furrowed in deep thought. She had seen countless autopsy scars in her career, but this was different. The coroner’s report had mentioned it wasn’t a typical dissection; it was a vivisection. The word sent a chill down her spine. She had heard stories, whispers of unsanctioned procedures, but she never thought she’d be the one to witness the aftermath.

Taking a deep breath, Anita began the embalming process. The familiar hum of the pump filled the room as she attached the trocar to his abdomen, starting the slow, methodical draining of blood from the body. The crimson fluid seeped out, replaced with embalming chemicals that would preserve what remained, ensuring the semblance of life for his final viewing.

With the embalming fluids circulating, she moved on to setting his face. It was important that he looked peaceful, almost as if he were merely sleeping. She began with his mouth, loading the needle injector with a barbed-tipped wire. The tool clicked as she pressed it against the maxilla, the wire piercing through the bone with precision. She repeated the process with the mandible, then twisted the wires together, securing his jaw in place. There would be no risk of it coming loose during the funeral, sparing his family the distress of seeing him slack-jawed in the casket.

Next were his eyes. Anita carefully pulled back his eyelids, reaching for the eye caps—small, clear discs with barbed spikes on the inside. They would help his eyes maintain a natural, slightly closed appearance, preventing the sunken look that so often accompanied death. She was inches away from placing them on his clouded eyes when her stomach let out a loud grumble.

“Damn it,” she muttered, the sudden urge reminding her of the coffee she had downed earlier.

Reluctantly, she pushed back her rolling chair, the casters scraping against the tile. She stripped off her PPE, each piece coming off with a practiced flick, and headed for the bathroom. The small, clinical space echoed with the sound of her footsteps as she entered, the door clicking shut behind her. She hurried through her business, then paused at the sink, methodically scrubbing her hands. As she looked up into the mirror, her reflection stared back at her—haggard, with dark circles etched under her tired eyes. She grimaced, making a mental note to try and get some sleep tonight.

Just as she turned off the faucet, the lights flickered, followed by a low, otherworldly groan that seemed to reverberate through the walls. Anita froze, her heart skipping a beat. It was a sound unlike anything she had heard before—something between a wail and a whisper, as if the air itself was being torn apart. A chill ran down her spine, and she stood there, paralyzed, staring at her own reflection, waiting for something—anything—to happen.

Ȃ̵̢̡͕̲͍̺̬̩̪̯͖̝̤̱̖̮̼̝͎̭͇̖̥̫̒̈́̔̃̎̄̌̿̍͘̕͝A̵̡̨̙͇͚̥̦͚͙̘̝̤͎͙͒̽̃̒́́͛̉̂͋͝ͅÄ̶̧̨̢̛̛͖̭̠̤͈͈̘͔̣͔̱͇̱̜̯͎͚͍̩͚̺̦̜͑̑̓͂͋͌̄͜͠͠͝Ą̴̧̢̢̧̢̝̱̻̥̹̖͕̦̠̬͙̭̜̣̱͓͚̗̗̬̮̙̤̲͇̟͚̣̜̜̼̹̻̮͇̟̤̹̩̬͕͖̖͙̤́̈́̓́̾ͅͅA̷̧̡̢̨̧̩͙̥̥̘̘͚̞̣̮̣̯̮͔͚͈̤͙̦͈͕͙̣̳̝͈̩͙͇̲̳͈͈͖͙̦̥͈̗̠̖̣̐̇̇̆͒͂͗̃̾̀̆̈́̽͆̆̕̚Ą̷̧̨̥̠̦͙͍̘̬̥̘͕̦͚̫̣̱̤͎̹̰̣̥̰̥̟̘̜̗̪̫̘̤̱̈́́͐̌͛̄̀͆́̓͂͛̈́̇̉͜͝͠Ą̸̢̡̞̻̪͎͔͕̠̗̖͈̲̯͓̜̝̭̼͎̟͕̀̌̀̈́̑̏̑͐́̋̄͌̏́̈́͋̈́̊̋̓̓̀̏̏̀͝͝ͅA̷̧̡̧̧̛̛̠̘̻̮̱̦̠̦̣̫̩̬��̦̳̮͙͎̞̞̗̮̩̩̪͓̩̻̪̱̰͉̼̮̞͖̒͋͐́͒͗̒̋̑͂̅̎̾̀̓̔̋̇̈́͑̆͐̌͌̑̌̋̅̔͘̕̚͝ͅA̴̛̛̛͙̮͌̌̅̀̊̅́̉̈́͆̅͑̐̏̄͆̈͗̒͐̓́̀͊̆̔̅̄͂͊̃̍̽̈́̊͌̀̿͛̓̈́͗̆̓͋̈̑̚̚͝͠͝͝À̷̢̧̡̢̙̪̰̮̼͙̣̜̭̦̞͓̩̝̣̙͕̞͙̳͇̦͉̼̜̠͈͔̰̺̟̜̳͍͚̥̺̫̈́͛̾̌̊́̿͊̈́̑̓͌̕̕͝ͅA̷̧̨̧̧̧͍̦̖̖̭̪̭̞̦̹͎͈͕̖̮̙͇̪̥̣͕̪̫͓͙̖̜̙͍͉̭̺̘̰̞̰̯͓̔̐̂͋͋̀̓̍̓̉͑̇͊̊̃̈́̌̅͑͆̍̑̋͑̍̔̂̒̀͗͌̇̂̆̈́̂́̈́̉̀͗́̐͛̇͆̂̀͂̔͐͛́̈́̉̃̕͘͝͝͝͝ͅĄ̷̥̗͕̙͍̭̠̮́̈̀͗̈̏̅̓̓̄̈͆̄̈́̃̌͒̓͑͐̉̔̉́͗̌̍͆́̍̆̕̚͘͜͝A̷̧̙͓̫͚͐͐̉̈́̾̍̇́͋̎̆͒̆͒̋̌̕Ą̵̨̡̧̧̢̢͓̯̤̹͙̘͈̹̭̥̪̬͕̜̦̠̻͓̫̤͈̜̣̲͙̬̦̣̺̖̞̗͎̙̙̩̯͍̱̥̝̖̅̀̋͊̇̉̔̈́̈́͗̇͗̈́͋̇̆͐͌̽̓̾̀̀̀̏͒̑̉̔͂̚͜͜͜ͅͅA̸̧̡̨̡̢̻̜͓͚͖̞͚̜̞̙̻̥̠̞̰͔̠̗͎̝̖͇̳̎̀̄̌̒̓͒̐̎̚͠Ạ̴̧̢̫̣̻̬̮̙̫̯̪̙̻͈̟̪̳̅͆͗̌̓̒̍͗̅͊́̏̃͐͑̃́͆̒̍̓̍̈̔͑̾̽̽̐͗̂̑̋́͌̚̕͝͠͠͠Å̵̧̨̢̡̛̯̻̬̻͈̩̹̜͓͎̣̜̥͔̜̩̟̞͓͓̠̬̬̟̜͓͓̲̻͚̟̦͇͓̰͕̲̝̳̺͕̝̭̣͕͈̥̲̪͎͎̻̟͚̖̋͋̀̋́́̊̎̐̀͊̑̊̾̓̈͛͒̄̊̀̕̚͜͠͝ͅͅA̶̛̛͕͈̻̺̲̤̳̖̋̓̀͋́͗̀͒̃̈́̉̅̉̉͑͑̋̅̃͒̎͋̎̏́̓͌̆͋ͅȦ̵͖̪̘͛̋͒͠͝ͅĄ̴̧̨̢̛̦̱̦̺̩̞̟̲̻̬͈̪̖̬̯̝̝̲̰̣̩̯̫͈̫̪̜̳͇̮͖̪̱̠̹̤̰͓̭͕̥̹̣̀̅̉̒̃̽͊̆̊̈́̄̐͌́̓̾̓̍̌͑̓͌͊̾̊̂͒͌̀̔͒̕͘͘͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅÄ̶̢̢̱̯̰̟̙͇͔̰̗̜̦̤̪̟̞̪͍̞̟̠̰̗̬̖͎͓̰̫́̈́̊̈́̒A̷̧̢̢̛̹͇̩͎͎̥̱͔͉̞͍͕̠̮͔̭̪͔̜̜̘̰̞͇̱̙͖̮̞̖͉͚̯̟͙̞̫̭͔̰̞͙̗̱̹̺̰͖̭̮͚̪̩͒͑̽̉̋̔͗͗̃̊̀̽̾̿̒̍͗͑̇̅̒͛̈́́̍̿̒̾̊͋́̃̃̈́͂̔̀͐̿̆͌̑̐̀̚͜͝͠ͅͅA̴̡̢̢̧̡̧̛̯͔̭̝̪̰̳̭͚̗̣̼͕̗̟͈͔̩͖̪̖̪͈̝͉̭̭̝̳̘̠̬̩̰̳̳͍̘̫̪̓̀̾̉́̿͂̓̾̎́͐͑̄̉̿̈̍̅̎̏̈́̓͘͝͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅA̶̙͇͎̤̓̿͗́̄̔̆͋̋͆̒̔͐́̽̄͒̎̏͛̂̅̒̋̽̈̋͂͐͐̎̅̌̋̾͑͌͋͐͘̕̕͝͝Ḁ̶̧̡̨̡̢̛̛̰̫̰͓͍̥̝̤̤͕̟̬͕̺͔̻̯̗̠̺̯̬̲̠̳̗͇͇̖̳̙͈͖͕͚͖̖̟̻͉̼̈̈͆̉͊̃̐́̎̊̌́̆̓͆̈̉́̅̆͌͐̽͌̀͒̽̌̿͐̀̽̈́́͋̑̕͘̚͜͜͠͝͝͠ͅA̷̡̨̢̛͕̟̜̰̼͔̠͉͈̼̫͚̟͈̻̖͛̍̍̇̑̐̓̓̀͠Ą̷̱̲̱̳̦͔̥̼̠͕̠̟͎̣̘̮͉̖̗̙̗̞̣̟̈́̾̽̿̍͌̚͘͜͠A̴̡̛̹̗̥̯͇̥̙̣̙̜̰̪̰̘͈͐̌̃̓̌̾̿̃̈͒͋̃̐͒̔̍̈́̓͑̓́̔̔̒͂̐̉̀͋͆͌͂̾͘͘��͝͠͠Ā̶̡̛̛̖̳̟͕͖̻̲͓̦͈͓͚͈̺͍͙̲̗̒̐̍̂̆͋̈̃͑̽̉̓̃̇͘Ą̴̨̛̣͓̞̪̱̰̜͂̏̀̆͒̀̿͆̑͊̿̈́̑͋̀̌̾̀̈́̾̽̈̈́͐͊̀̒̈́̇͒̈́̀̐̌͒͋͌͊̉̂͒̄̒̇̇̐̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͝͝Ā̷̛̛̬͙̠͉̰̼̼̦͉͕̤͈͙̯̈́̿̅̊̋̽̈́̓͌̈́̏͋̍͌͑̆́̄̂̍̿̉̑̈́͊̀͐̈́͋́͆̌̉̀̔̂̍̍̾́̔̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝A̷̡̧̡̢̨̡̡̢̢̘͉̭̠̖͈̠̭̖̞̭̞͎̤͚͕͔͖͚͇͇̯̟̝̪̖̦͙͙͇̳̪̼̮̫̥̲̲̙͔̟̭͈̺̺͚̬̱͓̠͒̎́̒͐͋͒͂̍̈́̅̐̇͜͜͠Ą̷̢̡̢̢̛̲̝͉͓̺͉̣͇͖̺̜̝̗̹̥̩͎͔͕̦͉͍̜͉͔̫̟̥͓̯̬̖̣͙͍̭͇͔̱̺͈͈̱͗̓̽̒̐͂̓̿͒͊̓̌̅̈́̉̅̓̎̈́̎͗̈́̍̌̒̂̈́̋̐͋̓̆́́̈̇̂͐̔͘̕͝͝A̴̢̡̛̭͈̺̥͇͓̟̻͔̪͇̝̰̱̮͇̦͕̞͙̘̤̻̺̐̎̇̉̓́̐͂́̀͌̽̋̒̀̋͊̀̾͒̓̇̽̂́͛̓̀̓̄̉́̅̀̾͒͌̈́̐͐̑̈́͒́̌̈́̿̽̾̃̽̀͋͛͘͜À̶̡̧̧̨̨̛̛̮̹͓̥̠̱̱̯̪̹̹̮̳͔̞̫̗̹̘͙͙̝̘̳̠̠̳̱̺̗̳̬̰̤̩̖͙̬̥͔̬͈̭̳̬̻̼̐̎͌͆̎̈́̀͆͌̒̅̾͂̋̍̏̈́͛͆̓̊͐͊̄̀̂͐̽̓̍͊͆̚̚̕͜͠͠͝͝Ą̷̧̛̛̛̛͈͖̞͓̱̦̬̣̭̗͍̤̣̦̯̪̹̘̟̙͈̼̬͑̿͊̈͑͛͒͗̑̀͆̏̒̓̃̊̏̐̉̿̄͒̂͛̈̀̂̈͋̀͗̃̆̏̾̏͐̂͂̊̈́̏̐̉͆̂̍̓̚͘̚͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅÁ̴̡̢̧̢̩̰͔̰͈͖̬̯̱̙̱̣̭̟͇͙̦̭̣̱͉͇͚̗͌͋͘͜Ä̵̧̛̝̘̼͇̬̭̼̬̠̞̩̩̜̤̰͙͔̼̬̟̟̫͓̥͇̱͕̦̜͙͚̪͚̩̱̟̗̥͙͇̩̞̬̞̗̥̻̘͓̹̻̰̫̙̯̗̹̹́̐͐̎̇̿͗̊͂̏́̂̋̀͆̆̾̄͑͑̽̌̈́̄͋͋̈̂̆̐̀́͌́̎̋̅͘͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅA̷̧̢̡͇̣͈̥̻̗͓͈͖͔̭̩̪͎͍̻̥̝͈̝̭̤͍̘̺̥̲͉̰̦͓̫͇͓͙͙̣̼̫͇͛̋͒͐̄́̔̓͐̅͒͆̏̅̎̇́̚̚͜͜͜ͅ

Anita jolted at the horrific sound, the air around her vibrating with an unnatural, bone-chilling resonance. Her hands flew to her ears in a desperate attempt to block out the noise, but it was too late. A searing pain shot through her head, her vision darkening as her eyes rolled back. She crumpled to the cold, sterile floor, her body limp, blood trickling from her ears and pooling beneath her head in a dark, crimson stain.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton’s eyes shot open in terror. His pupils contracted painfully against the blinding fluorescence of the room, his breath catching in his throat. His mind, sluggish and disoriented, struggled to make sense of what was happening. His hands moved instinctively to his face, rubbing his eyes as if trying to erase a bad dream.

But this was no dream.

As his vision cleared, he looked around, taking in the stark white walls and the cold steel surfaces of the embalming room. The air was thick with the acrid scent of formaldehyde, stinging his nose and making him gag. Panic surged through him as he realized he was completely naked, save for a thin cloth draped haphazardly over his waist.

But it was when his gaze fell on his chest that the true horror set in.

There, etched into his skin, was a large, brutal Y-shaped scar, stretching from his shoulders to his pubic bone. The sight of it made his stomach churn. His face contorted in terror, a scream tearing from his throat, raw and primal. His chest heaved with ragged breaths, each one more desperate than the last, as he clutched his head in his hands, trying to comprehend the impossible. The room seemed to close in around him, the sterile environment suffocating, the silence after his scream deafening.

Danny was alive—but something was horribly, irrevocably wrong.

Ȃ̵̢̡͕̲͍̺̬̩̪̯͖̝̤̱̖̮̼̝͎̭͇̖̥̫̒̈́̔̃̎̄̌̿̍͘̕͝A̵̡̨̙͇͚̥̦͚͙̘̝̤͎͙͒̽̃̒́́͛̉̂͋͝ͅÄ̶̧̨̢̛̛͖̭̠̤͈͈̘͔̣͔̱͇̱̜̯͎͚͍̩͚̺̦̜͑̑̓͂͋͌̄͜͠͠͝Ą̴̧̢̢̧̢̝̱̻̥̹̖͕̦̠̬͙̭̜̣̱͓͚̗̗̬̮̙̤̲͇̟͚̣̜̜̼̹̻̮͇̟̤̹̩̬͕͖̖͙̤́̈́̓́̾ͅͅA̷̧̡̢̨̧̩͙̥̥̘̘͚̞̣̮̣̯̮͔͚͈̤͙̦͈͕͙̣̳̝͈̩͙͇̲̳͈͈͖͙̦̥͈̗̠̖̣̐̇̇̆͒͂͗̃̾̀̆̈́̽͆̆̕̚Ą̷̧̨̥̠̦͙͍̘̬̥̘͕̦͚̫̣̱̤͎̹̰̣̥̰̥̟̘̜̗̪̫̘̤̱̈́́͐̌͛̄̀͆́̓͂͛̈́̇̉͜͝͠Ą̸̢̡̞̻̪͎͔͕̠̗̖͈̲̯͓̜̝̭̼͎̟͕̀̌̀̈́̑̏̑͐́̋̄͌̏́̈́͋̈́̊̋̓̓̀̏̏̀͝͝ͅA̷̧̡̧̧̛̛̠̘̻̮̱̦̠̦̣̫̩̬͚̦̳̮͙͎̞̞̗̮̩̩̪͓̩̻̪̱̰͉̼̮̞͖̒͋͐́͒͗̒̋̑͂̅̎̾̀̓̔̋̇̈́͑̆͐̌͌̑̌̋̅̔͘̕̚͝ͅA̴̛̛̛͙̮͌̌̅̀̊̅́̉̈́͆̅͑̐̏̄͆̈͗̒͐̓́̀͊̆̔̅̄͂͊̃̍̽̈́̊͌̀̿͛̓̈́͗̆̓͋̈̑̚̚͝͠͝͝À̷̢̧̡̢̙̪̰̮̼͙̣̜̭̦̞͓̩̝̣̙͕̞͙̳͇̦͉̼̜̠͈͔̰̺̟̜̳͍͚̥̺̫̈́͛̾̌̊́̿͊̈́̑̓͌̕̕͝ͅA̷̧̨̧̧̧͍̦̖̖̭̪̭̞̦̹͎͈͕̖̮̙͇̪̥̣͕̪̫͓͙̖̜̙͍͉̭̺̘̰̞̰̯͓̔̐̂͋͋̀̓̍̓̉͑̇͊̊̃̈́̌̅͑͆̍̑̋͑̍̔̂̒̀͗͌̇̂̆̈́̂́̈́̉̀͗́̐͛̇͆̂̀͂̔͐͛́̈́̉̃̕͘͝͝͝͝ͅĄ̷̥̗͕̙͍̭̠̮́̈̀͗̈̏̅̓̓̄̈͆̄̈́̃̌͒̓͑͐̉̔̉́͗̌̍͆́̍̆̕̚͘͜͝A̷̧̙͓̫͚͐͐̉̈́̾̍̇́͋̎̆͒̆͒̋̌̕Ą̵̨̡̧̧̢̢͓̯̤̹͙̘͈̹̭̥̪̬͕̜̦̠̻͓̫̤͈̜̣̲͙̬̦̣̺̖̞̗͎̙̙̩̯͍̱̥̝̖̅̀̋͊̇̉̔̈́̈́͗̇͗̈́͋̇̆͐͌̽̓̾̀̀̀̏͒̑̉̔͂̚͜͜͜ͅͅA̸̧̡̨̡̢̻̜͓͚͖̞͚̜̞̙̻̥̠̞̰͔̠̗͎̝̖͇̳̎̀̄̌̒̓͒̐̎̚͠Ạ̴̧̢̫̣̻̬̮̙̫̯̪̙̻͈̟̪̳̅͆͗̌̓̒̍͗̅͊́̏̃͐͑̃́͆̒̍̓̍̈̔͑̾̽̽̐͗̂̑̋́͌̚̕͝͠͠͠Å̵̧̨̢̡̛̯̻̬̻͈̩̹̜͓͎̣̜̥͔̜̩̟̞͓͓̠̬̬̟̜͓͓̲̻͚̟̦͇͓̰͕̲̝̳̺͕̝̭̣͕͈̥̲̪͎͎̻̟͚̖̋͋̀̋́́̊̎̐̀͊̑̊̾̓̈͛͒̄̊̀̕̚͜͠͝ͅͅA̶̛̛͕͈̻̺̲̤̳̖̋̓̀͋́͗̀͒̃̈́̉̅̉̉͑͑̋̅̃͒̎͋̎̏́̓͌̆͋ͅȦ̵͖̪̘͛̋͒͠͝ͅĄ̴̧̨̢̛̦̱̦̺̩̞̟̲̻̬͈̪̖̬̯̝̝̲̰̣̩̯̫͈̫̪̜̳͇̮͖̪̱̠̹̤̰͓̭͕̥̹̣̀̅̉̒̃̽͊̆̊̈́̄̐͌́̓̾̓̍̌͑̓͌͊̾̊̂͒͌̀̔͒̕͘͘͘͜͜͝͠͝ͅÄ̶̢̢̱̯̰̟̙͇͔̰̗̜̦̤̪̟̞̪͍̞̟̠̰̗̬̖͎͓̰̫́̈́̊̈́̒A̷̧̢̢̛̹͇̩͎͎̥̱͔͉̞͍͕̠̮͔̭̪͔̜̜̘̰̞͇̱̙͖̮̞̖͉͚̯̟͙̞̫̭͔̰̞͙̗̱̹̺̰͖̭̮͚̪̩͒͑̽̉̋̔͗͗̃̊̀̽̾̿̒̍͗͑̇̅̒͛̈́́̍̿̒̾̊͋́̃̃̈́͂̔̀͐̿̆͌̑̐̀̚͜͝͠ͅͅA̴̡̢̢̧̡̧̛̯͔̭̝̪̰̳̭͚̗̣̼͕̗̟͈͔̩͖̪̖̪͈̝͉̭̭̝̳̘̠̬̩̰̳̳͍̘̫̪̓̀̾̉́̿͂̓̾̎́͐͑̄̉̿̈̍̅̎̏̈́̓͘͝͝͝͠͠͠͠ͅA̶̙͇͎̤̓̿͗́̄̔̆͋̋͆̒̔͐́̽̄͒̎̏͛̂̅̒̋̽̈̋͂͐͐̎̅̌̋̾͑͌͋͐͘̕̕͝͝Ḁ̶̧̡̨̡̢̛̛̰̫̰͓͍̥̝̤̤͕̟̬͕̺͔̻̯̗̠̺̯̬̲̠̳̗͇͇̖̳̙͈͖͕͚͖̖̟̻͉̼̈̈͆̉͊̃̐́̎̊̌́̆̓͆̈̉́̅̆͌͐̽͌̀͒̽̌̿͐̀̽̈́́͋̑̕͘̚͜͜͠͝͝͠ͅA̷̡̨̢̛͕̟̜̰̼͔̠͉͈̼̫͚̟͈̻̖͛̍̍̇̑̐̓̓̀͠Ą̷̱̲̱̳̦͔̥̼̠͕̠̟͎̣̘̮͉̖̗̙̗̞̣̟̈́̾̽̿̍͌̚͘͜͠A̴̡̛̹̗̥̯͇̥̙̣̙̜̰̪̰̘͈͐̌̃̓̌̾̿̃̈͒͋̃̐͒̔̍̈́̓͑̓́̔̔̒͂̐̉̀͋͆͌͂̾͘͘͝͝͠͠Ā̶̡̛̛̖̳̟͕͖̻̲͓̦͈͓͚͈̺͍͙̲̗̒̐̍̂̆͋̈̃͑̽̉̓̃̇͘Ą̴̨̛̣͓̞̪̱̰̜͂̏̀̆͒̀̿͆̑͊̿̈́̑͋̀̌̾̀̈́̾̽̈̈́͐͊̀̒̈́̇͒̈́̀̐̌͒͋͌͊̉̂͒̄̒̇̇̐̕͘͘͘͠͝͝͝͝͝Ā̷̛̛̬͙̠͉̰̼̼̦͉͕̤͈͙̯̈́̿̅̊̋̽̈́̓͌̈́̏͋̍͌͑̆́̄̂̍̿̉̑̈́͊̀͐̈́͋́͆̌̉̀̔̂̍̍̾́̔̕̚̕̕͜͜͝͝A̷̡̧̡̢̨̡̡̢̢̘͉̭̠̖͈̠̭̖̞̭̞͎̤͚͕͔͖͚͇͇̯̟̝̪̖̦͙͙͇̳̪̼̮̫̥̲̲̙͔̟̭͈̺̺͚̬̱͓̠͒̎́̒͐͋͒͂̍̈́̅̐̇͜͜͠Ą̷̢̡̢̢̛̲̝͉͓̺͉̣͇͖̺̜̝̗̹̥̩͎͔͕̦͉͍̜͉͔̫̟̥͓̯̬̖̣͙͍̭͇͔̱̺͈͈̱͗̓̽̒̐͂̓̿͒͊̓̌̅̈́̉̅̓̎̈́̎͗̈́̍̌̒̂̈́̋̐͋̓̆́́̈̇̂͐̔͘̕͝͝A̴̢̡̛̭͈̺̥͇͓̟̻͔̪͇̝̰̱̮͇̦͕̞͙̘̤̻̺̐̎̇̉̓́̐͂́̀͌̽̋̒̀̋͊̀̾͒̓̇̽̂́͛̓̀̓̄̉́̅̀̾͒͌̈́̐͐̑̈́͒́̌̈́̿̽̾̃̽̀͋͛͘͜À̶̡̧̧̨̨̛̛̮̹͓̥̠̱̱̯̪̹̹̮̳͔̞̫̗̹̘͙͙̝̘̳̠̠̳̱̺̗̳̬̰̤̩̖͙̬̥͔̬͈̭̳̬̻̼̐̎͌͆̎̈́̀͆͌̒̅̾͂̋̍̏̈́͛͆̓̊͐͊̄̀̂͐̽̓̍͊͆̚̚̕͜͠͠͝͝Ą̷̧̛̛̛̛͈͖̞͓̱̦̬̣̭̗͍̤̣̦̯̪̹̘̟̙͈̼̬͑̿͊̈͑͛͒͗̑̀͆̏̒̓̃̊̏̐̉̿̄͒̂͛̈̀̂̈͋̀͗̃̆̏̾̏͐̂͂̊̈́̏̐̉͆̂̍̓̚͘̚͘̕͝͝͝͝ͅͅÁ̴̡̢̧̢̩̰͔̰͈͖̬̯̱̙̱̣̭̟͇͙̦̭̣̱͉͇͚̗͌͋͘͜Ä̵̧̛̝̘̼͇̬̭̼̬̠̞̩̩̜̤̰͙͔̼̬̟̟̫͓̥͇̱͕̦̜͙͚̪͚̩̱̟̗̥͙͇̩̞̬̞̗̥̻̘͓̹̻̰̫̙̯̗̹̹́̐͐̎̇̿͗̊͂̏́̂̋̀͆̆̾̄͑͑̽̌̈́̄͋͋̈̂̆̐̀́͌́̎̋̅͘͜͝͝͝͝͠ͅA̷̧̢̡͇̣͈̥̻̗͓͈͖͔̭̩̪͎͍̻̥̝͈̝̭̤͍̘̺̥̲͉̰̦͓̫͇͓͙͙̣̼̫͇͛̋͒͐̄́̔̓͐̅͒͆̏̅̎̇́̚̚͜͜͜ͅ

As Danny’s scream echoed in the sterile room, he froze, realizing something was terribly wrong with his voice. It wasn’t his voice. It was distorted, hollow, like a death rattle echoing from the depths of a crypt. The sound made his skin crawl, every hair on his body standing on end. It was the kind of voice that belonged to something not of this world—something dead. He slapped his hands over his mouth, horrified, tears welling up in his cloudy white eyes.

He felt something hard under his lips and pulled them open, trembling fingers probing inside his mouth. His breath hitched when he encountered metal wires, woven cruelly through his teeth. Panic surged through him, and he tried to wrench his jaw open, but it wouldn’t budge. A sharp, searing pain shot through his skull, and he winced, the realization of his confinement crashing down on him.

Tears streamed down his face, his entire body quaking with fear and confusion. Sobs wracked his fragile form, the reality of his situation suffocating him. This couldn’t be happening—this had to be a nightmare. What the hell was going on? Why was he connected to this machine? Why was there a grotesque wound carved into his chest? And why, oh God, why was his jaw wired shut?

His mind spiraled, grasping desperately for memories, for anything that could explain this horror. But everything was a blur, a foggy haze that clouded his thoughts. He couldn’t think straight, his head pounding with the effort of trying to piece together the fragments of his shattered memory.

But through the chaos, one thought pierced the fog: he needed help. He needed to find his family, his friends. He clung to the memory of them like a lifeline, the only clear images in his fractured mind. Sam and Tucker—they would know what to do. They had always been there for him, through every strange and terrifying moment of his life. If anyone could help him make sense of this nightmare, it was them. He had to find them. He had to get out of here.

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suzukiblu · 11 months ago

Text

Expanded version of the "the Core Four gangs up on Kon's objectification kink" WIP, including a read-more because it's up to like 2k now, hah.

It's nice to all be alive and in the same reality and time period with the guys, which should really be easier to arrange than it actually is. Cassie had an easier time getting Cissie and Greta and Anita all together for a two-week road trip last summer than she has ever had getting Tim and Kon and Bart all alive and local and not replaced by a clone with fucked-up ethics for five fucking minutes.

Last time she'd thought she'd managed that, Match and Thad had shown up, plus Tim'd had to cancel last-minute for an Arkham breakout anyway.

It was so annoying that she hadn't even bothered telling Match and Thad that she'd known they were them until they'd both let her get to second base. Like, she wasn't actually gonna fuck them, obviously, they're supervillains and also she doesn't want to give either Kon or Bart any weird complexes or anything like that, but second base had seemed fair. Just for the inconvenience and all.

Also they'd both clearly needed more practice at making time anyway. Like–definitely. So really she'd figured she was doing them a favor.

They'd been hilariously shy about touching each other, for guys who'd been pretending to be Conner "No Regrets" Kent and Bart "No Restraint" Allen. Cassie had politely pretended not to find it adorable, because supervillains, and had just given some helpful tips disguised as voyeuristic requests.

And like, well, third base had been fine for them, she'd reasoned, since they were both supervillains.

They both blush way, way more easily than Kon and Bart do, she has learned.

Also if they're dating now, that's her bad and she probably owes the superhero community some very serious apologies for it? But like, she's not gonna be the one to bring it up. So as long as Cissie doesn't break the Sis Code about their last dish session, it'll be fine.

Though she does expect invited to that particular wedding, if it ever comes up.

Anyway. Off-topic.

Cassie spent three full days and a favor from both Oracle and Supergirl arranging this date night, so she has no intention of it going to waste or getting interrupted. She was not fool enough to plan an event or activity outside where criminals and idiots and idiot criminals and, worse, people they know abound; she'd just told the boys all when to be at her apartment and then very theatrically locked the door once she'd gotten them all inside.

Said lock is made of promethium and also full of godly magic, because fuck interruptions.

Aphrodite understands when a girl just really needs to get some with her sort-of boyfriends/ride-or-die teammates, thankfully.

Technically Young Justice is a situationship more than a superhero team these days, but they are just not gonna be explaining that to the Justice League. Like ever.

Maybe at their wedding.

Kon had suggested Netflix. Bart had suggested getting delivery. Tim had suggested a card game.

Cassie had taken her pants off, which had fortunately gotten them all on the same page.

So that’s how they’re here right now, with her straddling a half-naked Tim on the couch in just her shirt and panties and Kon and Bart on the other side of the coffee table and all tangled up together fully naked, because the bastards both have ridiculous amounts of super-speed and can therefore cheat their way out of their clothes and through the prep stage and foreplay without even letting her and Tim get a show, the brats.

And also because Kon can fly, so he doesn't really have to “weigh” all that much.

So that's how he's currently completely wrapped around Bart and being held up in his arms like he doesn't weigh a thing at all so Bart can fuck him standing. Cassie can fly too, obviously, but she doesn't like being held up like that without an anchor point or any contact with the ground or at least a wall–it makes her feel unbalanced, distracted, vulnerable.

Kon, apparently, really likes it.

Well, he was born able to fly, so maybe that's part of that. For her, the ability was a later development. For Kon, it's as natural and normal as walking or running.

Probably more so, actually.

And the visual of Kon's whole big broad body being held up in Bart's lithe, narrow arms like that, of him deliberately making the effort to keep himself there, to keep himself on Bart's cock–well, she likes that.

"Holy Hera," she mutters, and even the direct stimulation of Tim's dick rubbing up just-right against her cunt through their underwear and his hands on her hips pales a little in comparison to the show.

Look, she's just the visual type, okay?

"Don't take this the wrong way, but this feels kinda like I'm just using a toy, not holding a whole person," Bart says distractedly, his voice and hips both practically a blur. Cassie and Tim both bristle reflexively against each other, because that has got to be just about the stupidest possible thing he could've said to–

And Kon–bites his lip, a little, and shudders.

"A–toy?" he repeats unevenly.

"Oh," Bart says, freezing in place and then blinking lightning-fast a few dozen times, or maybe just once or twice. It's hard to tell, with Bart. "I mean, not like–well, yeah? I don't mean I think you're–"

"It's okay if you do," Kon blurts, his face flushing. Cassie kind of forgets she was about to get on Tim's dick and nearly falls off him. Tim nearly falls off the couch, so at least she's not alone there.

Bart's a lot faster on the uptake than any of the rest of them, though, so he just blinks one more time and then tilts his head. And then, casually–

"You would make a pretty good toy," he says. "We could pass you around a lot easier. And maybe you'd stop running off and getting lost on us all the time, too."

"Ngh," Kon says, ducking his head as his face gets even redder.

"I don't really have a toybox, though," Bart muses absentmindedly, watching Kon's face intently. "Might just have to leave you in my bed when we weren't using you. But then you'd be easy-access for playtime anyway, so–"

"Bart," Kon chokes, and Cassie sees the very obvious way his whole body clenches up.

"That setting's too tight. Go back to the last one," Bart says in that same casual, matter-of-fact tone from before, and Kon makes a strangled noise and visibly forces himself to relax again, just barely trembling.

"Well, this is a development," Cassie manages, which is more than Tim's apparently got; he's just staring.

"Kon–" he starts just a little warily, and Kon just shakes his head mutely.

"The off button's 'friction', if you run out of battery," Bart says, stroking up the small of Kon's back. "Got it?"

Kon nods, snapping his eyes shut, and still doesn't say a word.

"Good toy," Bart says, and Kon shudders. Bart stares at him for one last very, very intent microsecond that probably lasts about forty minutes in subjective time, then turns his head to look over at Cassie and Tim instead. And then he goes back to fucking Kon, but this time he isn't moving his own hips at all–just moving Kon by his grip on his, like he really is just holding a toy and using it how he pleases.

Kon lets him.

Cassie is going to spontaneously combust, she's pretty sure, and Tim looks like he might just keel over and die.

"Its hole feels pretty good," Bart tells them instead of Kon, his tone a little breathless but mostly just conversational. Kon digs his teeth into his lip with a strangled noise and his dick twitches sharply; outright spits precome. So apparently Cassie is going to spontaneously combust and Tim is going to keel over and die and Kon is probably going to do both, fucking hell, Bart is trying to kill them all, the little bastard.

"Does it?" Cassie manages only a bit faintly, because if they're doing this they're at least gonna do it right. Generally speaking Kon's the one with the most submissive tendencies, though they've all tried it at least a couple times. Cassie just doesn't really like the way subbing makes her feel and Bart gets restless and Tim gets neurotic, though every now and then one or the other of them is in the mood for a bit of it.

Kon will do it whenever one of them asks, though, and Cassie's pretty sure he'd do it even more often if he felt comfortable asking for it himself. Like–they talk about sex a lot, and Kon has to talk around the things he likes or wants a lot. Even more than Tim does, really. Tim can treat it like a mission report and Bart just has no shame and Cassie–well, it still takes some effort, but she's getting better at it, at least.

Kon just doesn't seem to be able to say the words at all, though, which considering his usual tendency to charge face-first at every single obstacle is . . . notable, maybe.

Cassie's never been sure if it's that he just doesn't feel safe asking for things he thinks he wants "too much", or if it's that he feels comfortable enough with them to not have to demand space and attention, and can just wait for it to come to him.

Kon's only ever full-stop safeworded when he was Domming, though. Never as a sub. He's used "yellow" a few times when he was getting overwhelmed or needed a little reassurance, yeah, but never once called a full stop to a scene.

That's not a thing any of them has ever pointed out, but Cassie's pretty sure they've all noticed it.

Maybe not Kon himself, but . . .

"Yeah," Bart says. "It can take a lot, too. I mean, duh, it's a toy, but still. Sturdy thing, y'know?"

"How much is 'a lot'?" Tim says, sounding not unlike he's been punched in the diaphragm. Cassie was definitely doing something with him a minute or three ago, but fuck if she remembers what it was. They've both got their pants off, that's her only clue here.

"Like, a lot," Bart says. "See?"

Then he tightens his grip on Kon's hips and they blur, electric and barely visible and crackling with the Speed Force's lightning. Faster than he can fuck Tim or even her–much faster than he can fuck Tim or her. Kryptonians are built for super-speed too, after all.

But not quite as much of it as a dedicated speedster is.

Cassie can't imagine how overwhelming that actually feels, come to think of it.

Kon just stutters out the quietest sound she thinks she's ever heard him make. It sounds like a sob, almost.

He doesn't say "friction", though. Doesn't even say "yellow".

He doesn't do anything at all, except keep himself in Bart's arms and keep letting Bart use him.

Cassie is never, ever going to remember what she and Tim were doing.

"That's a lot, yeah," she manages. Bart's the best at doing scenes, really, but he's played a lot of games and thinks very fast and has very little sense of self-consciousness, so no surprise there. But Tim is a Bat-trained–and Pennyworth-trained–natural liar, so he's no slouch either. Cassie usually feels a little awkward getting into a scene herself, especially compared to those two's respective experience and Kon's own eternal teen-idol levels of putting on a show and commitment to literally any bit, but right now, she could not care less about "awkward". She just wants to see Kon get taken apart.

She wants to help take Kon apart.

#core four #young just us #young justice #cassie sandsmark #tim drake #bart allen #kon el #conner kent #wonder girl #dc robin #dc impulse #superboy #not sfw #rinfic #wip: the core four gangs up on kon's objectification kink

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