#but nothing that would take long to heal

[spectrology]

octane wouldnt have loads of piercings and tattoos he doesnt have the patience for them. he wanted the plus ultra tattoo and he couldnt believe how long it took to get done. couple hours and then it turned out that was only the first session? man said fuck it. honestly might have bought a tattoo gun and scribbled in the rest himself & it looks like shit in a lot of areas. and the healing? the aftercare? forget about it.

he had that one nose piercing that took forever to heal and then it got ripped out (thats what his nose scar is) and he was like whatever. hes lucky it didnt get infected w the way he got it and forgot about it

[bunnieswithknives]

Dev this is serious stop beatboxing.

[perhaps-mr-collins-has-a-cousin]

Hello praying people, I'm not doing well and would really appreciate your prayers right now <3

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

You know, back a long time ago when I was actively participating in Sk8 fandom while the anime was airing, there was a lot of mentality abound of people expressing how badly they wanted to "save Tadashi from ADAM". And of course, at that time it always felt like it came from a good place. The excuse was that because Tadashi was "obviously being abused" (also, to note, the entire mentality was also based on the assumption that Tadashi was perfectly normal before Ainosuke broke him and turned him into a loyal puppet, which turned out to be an incorrect assumption), so of course people wanted to save him, right? As "any good person would" they just saw an abused and broken man and wanted to save him and rehabilitate him and help him realize that the life he's living is wrong–

Wait a minute. This is where we pause. By the time the show itself had ended (or season 1 rather) and all the context had been given, this mentality began to rub me the wrong way.

Why?

Because in this situation, people started from a very reasonable place of "I feel bad for what this character has been through" and transitioned to a place where the character is treated both like a real person who can receive harm, but also a baby with no agency. From a more irl angle, this fictional character is an adult man, which canon went to a number of lengths to show that he has learned a number of skills of his own accord so he could be the perfect secretary, and he has enough going for him that he doesn't need this secretary job to stay afloat. In other words, by the final episode, canon could not make it more perfectly clear that he knows his reality and continues to choose it. Even in his fictional reality, he doesn't need someone to kidnap him and "show him what true happiness is". But also, he's a fictional character and not a real person. It doesn't matter whether he chooses to be in a situation you think is terrible or not. Canon is the way it is because the author made it so. It does not conform to your comfortability or your wishes for the characters.

This is to say that what rubs me the wrong way of the mentality that Tadashi is a poor poor man who needs to be saved and fixed and shown true happiness is that people erase the agency he has in his own story as an adult who chooses what he wants and knows what will make him happy, and also treat him like a real person whom people have a moral imperative to save from his abuser. And they all do so ignoring canon about the situation that doesn't back up the idea that he either is hopelessly stuck as a victim (and needs saving) or is stuck as a victim and can't see it because he's broken (and needs saving).

"Now, hadesknockedupintheunderworld," you may be wondering. "You're predominantly a Sonic blog right now. What does this fictional secretary man from an anime that stopped airing in 2021 have to do with that."

To which I would say, "You know me, random person on the internet. This does have to do with Sonic the Hedgehog somehow!"

The reason I brought this up is to say that...the way the louder Sonic fandom treats Surge and Kitsunami rubs me the wrong way. Because you see this very similar mentality here.

"Oh poor Surge she was traumatized and abused. She's a bad person right now because she's reacting to trauma and doesn't know any better. She doesn't know that she's being bad, but as long as she becomes friends with Amy/Sonic they'll help her heal and teach her that what she wants is wrong"

"Oh, Surge knows what she's doing is bad and doing it on purpose? Well of course that's Starline's fault isn't it. She won't want to kill Sonic forever. She just needs to find her old family and take back her old identity and make friends with Amy/Sonic. This way she'll be able to become a hero and learn how to be a good person. She can't be happy unless she's a good person with family and friends! And there are so many characters who can save her."

"What? She's becoming a hero but still wants to kill Sonic? Oh, well. The first steps are taken, but she just needs the right people to lead by example. It's her destiny and future to be a good person, she just needs to be shown how"

"Poor poor Kitsunami, Surge was awful to him. He's so codependent with her due to Starline's programming, and she's so terrible to him. Practically abusing him. He's still following her because the poor baby has no choice! His programming keeps him from ever defying Surge, poor thing. But don't worry, Kit. One day you'll realize that the heroes are just trying to help you! And Tails will help you break through your programming and show you how to be a good person! And then you can heal without your pesky abuser forcing you to do things."

"Oh, he wants to be around Surge? No that's his programming he needs to break through. The poor kid simply doesn't know anything else and is a slave to his programming. That's why I need– I mean, he needs someone to save him and turn him into a good person."

"Surge is taking so many steps to being a good person and hero, but Kitsunami is concerning me. It's his fault that she's not a good girl and a full hero yet because he's going to basically become a secret villain so she can be a hero. God she's gonna be so pissed when she finds out he isn't being a good person and is causing problems for her to fix. I so sooooo hope this doesn't happen, but if he doesn't stop then he's gonna solidify himself as a villain and deserve whatever punishment he gets as a bad person. If IDW has any good writers at all, then Kit will finally become friends with Tails and the others and they'll teach him that he's wrong! Then he won't be so codependent on Surge and dragging her down and he can be of worth to society as a good person."

The similarities here are thus:

This character has gone through bad things/trauma and I feel bad for them.

I personally want to save them and wrap them up so they can heal and never deal with those things again

The only people who deserve happy futures are people who are good people (who I see as good people).

Because I like this character and want to save them, this means I want good things for them. They don't deserve good things unless they're good people, so I need someone to save them and make them better people.

If the character isn't a 100% good person (to me), then it's because they don't know any better and need to be shown by someone else what a good person is like. If the character does know better, well then all the more reason for someone to fix them and change them for their own sake.

I've decided that the situation the character is currently in is bad for them because it doesn't fit what I think would be a good and happy future if I was in their shoes. This means that they must be hopelessly stuck and forced in this situation somehow and need someone's help to escape it and be turned into a good person so they can have the good future I've picked for them. Anyone in their life I don't think is conducive to that future is a literal bad person.

Therefore the character doesn't know what's good for them like I do, but I can save them and make them happy. And if you don't agree that they need to be saved and fixed into model citizens (even against their current will) so they can be happy then you may as well be ignoring a real person who's being abused and crying for help. But also if they choose against my wishes for them time and time again maybe the narrative will kill them because they'll simply deserve to die at that point. Of course I hope that doesn't happen! This is why they must be saved!

What I'm saying is, like with Tadashi sk8, people have taken the mentality that Kit and/or Surge are poor poor guys who need to be saved and fixed and shown true happiness. They erase the agency the characters have in their own stories as free people who can choose what they want now and know what will make them happy, and also treat them like real people whom people have a moral imperative to save from their abusers or themselves or whatever they've decided the problem is. And they all do so ignoring canon about the situation that doesn't back up the idea that they either are hopelessly misguided (and need saving/fixing) or are stuck as a slaves to their own programming and can't see it because they're broken/don't know any better (and need saving/fixing).

[edge-oftheworld]

one thing I love about following celebrities/artists who are honest and proactive about their mental health struggles etc is I can’t count the number of times someone I know is going through something and I’m like ‘I’ve got a song for u’ and how much of my life involves telling myself ‘if [redacted] can do something/get better/etc then so can i’ (and having actual real evidence of it in front of me) and I can’t understate how much I appreciate these things.

but at the same time it involves a whole lot of watching people I care about suffer and you learn to read the signs and infer between the lines in songs and interviews, and yes we can never fully know what they don’t share with us, but when they do share things it’s not a big stretch to be like ‘this seems like it’s what life is like for you and I have taken encouragement from it but you deserve so much better’. and it’s easy to find ways to get angry at a predatory industry and realise things that could be hurtful if you’re already fragile.

and we can advocate for some things and help ourselves and the people around us feel better but it’s hard to meaningfully reach your faves as an individual. and there are things we can’t say on the internet in too much detail, speculation becomes the harmful kind of gossip, and so sometimes it’s a whole lot of internally saying ‘you’re doing incredibly well to have gotten to where you are but I wish for your sake things would get better faster’

[justalittlelogophile]

⚫️🫂 Rest 🫂⚫️

You deserve all the love the world has to offer

Both then and even more so now

I’m sorry the journey has been hard

That no one has been there to hold you

So rest now here with me

Open your weary heart

And let me fill it with the love that you seek

~Po

[fragrantpines]

I have a lot mixed feelings about the second part of the event.

[raointean]

Nuance (can get pregnant (to the best of my knowledge)

[tired-biscuit]

Logan would probably moan like he’s having the best sex of his life from just a shoulder massage. Do you think he’d deny he needs one? Or would you catch him off guard while he’s asleep?

18+ MDNI, fem!reader // cw: friends to lovers, unexpected mutual pining, logan realises he’s touch-starved after you offer to give him a backrub, and you both get turned on by it.

divider credit: div1nepetal

what if you’re, like… his friend, who’s grown to care deeply about him over the years and wants nothing else but to help him out a little from time to time in simpler, more ‘humanly’ ways because of said caring?

i mean, he’s got super fast healing and all that jazz, sure, however that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t get sore and thus — unbearably — cranky about it… and since you’ve known each other for so long, you’ve also gotten quite comfortable in each other’s company! so it wouldn’t be that odd if you were to offer to relieve the pain in your friend’s back when he swings by your place one random evening… right?

it’s really just to make him feel better, nothing else! because as soon as he flings himself onto his favoured spot on your worn out couch (a dent that he fucking made with the help of his heavy adamantium ass), you catch him repetitively stretching his neck from side to side and rolling his shoulders every so often with a furrowed brow and a tight-lipped expression that somehow manages to appear even grumpier than his usual neutral.

you steal glances because of it. listen intently to the laboured sighs he keeps letting out. and after leering at him and his struggles from the corner of your eye for a little while, not at all paying attention to the movie that you’re supposed to be watching with him, you finally succumb. you turn to the side and propose your offer whilst wiggling your magic fingers, as you like to call them, right in front of his face, and logan, as is expected, denies it by gently swatting your hand away.

taking over pretty much the entire space on the couch from how he’s manspreading, he doesn’t even peel his eyes from the television that — unlike you — he’s actually watching when he tells you that, “you don’t gotta worry about it” and that it’s not that bad, then. for some reason, he even feels the need to add that he can handle himself just fine.

it all makes your eyes roll.

and instead of listening, you rather choose to persist. he’s a wall whenever he makes up his mind on something, you know this, but you also know that if you nag him and scold him for long enough, prodding and picking at the cracks between phantom bricks, he’ll have no choice but to give in and give you what you want just to make you stop… though not without adding a snide comment or two himself during it because he can’t help but act like a dick sometimes around the people he’s fond of, it’s just the way he is!

as you tell him to scooch over and lay on his stomach, you feel just a little bit bad that you had to resort to annoying him in order to being allowed to help him. however, the guilt isn’t nearly as strong as is the sense of victory that you’ve just achieved, so you allow it to curl the corners of your lips into a satisfied, cat-like smile while you busy yourself by straddling the small of his back. he can’t see your face anyway, so what’s the issue?

meanwhile, logan lets out a tired exhale, smushing one cheek against the decorative pillow that he’s folded his arms under so that he can still watch the tv while you work your supposed magic. he listens to your sheepish apology and request to tell you if you’re too heavy, to which he responds by calling it nonsense and that you’re insulting him by thinking you’re heavy whilst sitting on top of a guy who’s literally filled with metal.

and filled with metal he is, indeed! it’s not long before you realize just how much freaking pressure you have to apply to his shoulders and back in order to make him feel something. how much physical strength you have to put into it, to the point that you’re nearly sweating because of it. popping a bone in order to ease some of the tension is literally impossible, so you aim your focus onto the taut cords of muscle instead.

you can see them even through the thin white shirt that he’s wearing — they’re that profound. flexed and attractive, attained with hard work. but they become even more visible when he reluctantly lets you roll the hem of his shirt up towards the collar, unfolding his arms just so that he can lift the upper half of his body, and you right along with him, with no visible effort whatsoever.

the air in the room shifts a little after that; it gets kind of tense. because all of a sudden, you’re skin to skin. his should be covered in scars, but he’s lucky enough to have them all healed and smoothed away by his power. and while he may not be able to feel relief in his adamantium-covered bones, he sure as hell can feel the warmth of your palms running down the slopes of his broad shoulders, the grazing of your nails that nearly makes him shiver when they reach a particularly ticklish part on the nape of his neck, the heat between your legs as you continue to sit on him, dressed in nothing else but a pair of comfortable and tiny shorts…

forcing himself to be a loner, logan isn’t used to being touched like this all that much, and it makes him sensitive. and as a result, he can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut and groan in absolute pleasure when you readjust by wiggling your hips on top of him and lean in super close to really dig your fingers into his strong back.

you pause at the sound; he can hear your breathing hitch a little before it continues to fan his shoulder blade. he’s already halfway on opening his mouth to say something in order to avoid things from getting too awkward even if he’s not the kind of man who minds if they do, when all of a sudden it hits him.

it’s barely there, just the faintest whiff of something sticky and sweet. it would be impossible to catch by a normal human, but he isn’t a normal human, now is he? no, he’s a mutant — a primal one, at that — and because of it, his nose is more than capable of catching a scent like this.

you’re… aroused. have gotten turned on by the sound he just made. are getting wetter between the legs by the second. and he can smell it.

fuck.

logan chooses not to say anything even if the pheromones that he’s steadily inhaling now are making his blood grow feverish to dangerous levels. meanwhile, you choose to remain quiet as well, simply continuing your ministrations as if nothing has happened.

something that does change, however, is the way you touch him. from that hiccup onward, you get more, should you say, intimate with it; even daring to comb your fingers through his rich, dark hair at some point and experimentally tugging at the roots, making him actually shiver this time.

he doesn’t just shiver, though. the action is so freaking good that it also causes his eyes to roll into the back of his head — he silently prays that he’s managed to squeeze them shut for a second time before you could catch it.

and that’s not all there is to it either. by now, his cock has become painfully hard in his pants. thick, hot and leaking pre-cum from how excited he’s getting. it makes laying down on his stomach extremely uncomfortable, but he thinks it’s better to suffer through it than enabling you to see what you’re doing to him both physically and mentally.

mind fogged by a mixture of your and now his own lust, he’s getting so horny that all he wants to do is rut into the couch while you continue to touch him. he doesn’t, of course, he’s been around for over two centuries so he’s pretty good at restraining himself, however that doesn’t mean that he likes doing it.

so he remains decent… well, somewhat. he pants a little bit, and he grunts and curses under his breath in a way that makes him sound like he’s balls deep in your cunt, folding you in a mating press and pounding away until you’re nothing but a whiny mess and his cum is trickling down your thighs, but he still tries his very best.

by the time you pat him on the shoulders and tell him you’ve finished, he fears he did, too.

[celestiamour]

MEOW MEOW MEOW SE-MI SMUT X F!READER PLL,ZZPLZLZZ IM ON MY KNEES PLZ

ft. se-mi x f! reader — squid game

╰₊✧ an examination of piercings turns into something more┊0.8k words

contains: smut!! dom se-mi & sub reader┊tongue piercing, receiving oral, one mention of needles, innocent reader, se-mi is older & called “unnie”

➤ author's note: glad to see the girls getting just as much love as the boys in my inbox

“did they hurt?” you asked, gently holding your friend’s face in your hands and admiring her like a newly discovered painting from the renaissance era. it was mesmerizing how the light shone off the metal, and you couldn’t stop staring, even going as far as to run your finger over the little star of her nose piercing in awe without thinking. it was so damn cute how fascinated you seemed to be by these decisions she made nearly a decade ago in her teenage years.

normally, se-mi wouldn’t have let anyone put their hands on her and would probably punch them if they went anywhere near her face. yet here she sat in her bed allowing herself to be adored by you. she wondered if this was how cats felt when being coddled by their owners, the spoiled white persian kinds you see in movies with diamond collars and more toys than what they know to do with. “no, it was just like a pinch.”

“i couldn’t imagine that— having a needle pierce my skin, i mean,” you shivered. “my ears were pierced when i was a baby, but even then, they’re a little crooked because i wouldn’t stop crying.”

she giggled at the thought of it. “it’s not the needle that’s painful, it’s the healing process. the days after i got my tongue pierced were the worst, i couldn’t eat for days.”

“you have a tongue piercing?”

humming to confirm, she cheekily stuck out her tongue to show off the metal pierced through the muscle, even flexing it to flaunt the jewelry. it was extremely amusing to see how flustered you were becoming even though you tried not to show it.

“why did you get it pierced when it’s not even visible all the time?”

“cause it feels good for…”

“feels good for what?” you asked innocently, tilting your head in a way that made her want to eat you alive.

“well… it’s kinda hard to explain, but i could show you if you like…”

you didn’t have the foggiest idea what she was talking about at first until you found yourself flipped on your back with your shorts dragged to your ankles along with your panties and her head in between your shaking thighs, sliding her hot tongue between your folds and savoring the taste collecting on her palette. this wasn’t something best friends did, but you made no attempt to push her away and allowed her to do as she pleased.

“s-se-mi unnie…” you whined out, fingers finding and tangling with her dark locks yet also doing the contradictory action of wiggling your hips away. you’ve never felt this way before, knots twisting in your stomach and fire spreading under your skin as you try to wiggle away from the foreign sensation that felt too good to be real.

“ah, ah, ah, don’t run from me, you taste so fucking sweet.” her grip on your legs tightened as she pulled you closer to her, swirling the cold pierced metal across your throbbing clit and enjoying your moans like music. “i wish we had done this sooner, don’t you? god, i don’t think i could ever get enough now that i’m here.”

you couldn’t even verbalize a proper answer with nothing but pathetic whimpers falling from your mouth, eyes flickering between her and the ceiling as they rolled back with tears threatening to drip down the waterline. did things like this always feel so good, or was se-mi simply an expert who knew your body better than you did yourself with age and experience? silly little questions you would ponder if you weren’t getting your brains fucked out by just her tongue, making her wonder in return how you would handle taking her strap when you were already going crazy like this. (you have no idea how long she’s been fantasizing about having you like this, sitting in this very bed thinking about your soft skin and lips against hers with her hand crammed in her pants.)

“fucckk, ‘m gonna- ngh!!” god, you didn’t know the word to match your oncoming orgasm, you just knew a peak was about to be reached thanks to her talented tongue.

“you’re gonna cum baby,” she chuckled. “don’t be scared, just let yourself go for me.”

suddenly her plush lips wrapped around your delicate pearl and sucked hard, and like activating a button, you cried out in pleasure and unraveled all over her face, back arched and hands tugging on her hair. she gladly licked up the messy remnants with a smirk, proud to have made you climax in less than five minutes.

“you did soooo good for me baby,” she drawled and pressed a few sloppy kisses on your twitching cunt as a reward, “think you can give me one more?”

[gumii-bearr]

❝ patience ❞

summary: it really is a virtue.

featuring... megumi fushiguro

content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, alt!reader, alt!megumi, mentions of piercings and tattoos, reader is so hot fr, cunnilingus with a tongue piercing, fingering, pet names, tatted gumi!!, teasing

author's note: the tongue piercing drabble got me in a chokehold, so enjoy!!

You would consider yourself a patient person. You spent your time getting tattoos and waiting for piercings to heal– that requires patience. 

That was a virtue you were proud of– but your patience went out the window when it came to Megumi.

His breath was hot against the skin of your belly, his lips tracing the intricate ink patterns adorning your body. His tattooed hands seemed to dwarf your plush thighs as his forearms snaked under your legs, hands holding your thighs open for him to lay between.

His messy hair tickled your tummy as his tongue traced from your navel to the lacy hem of your black panties. 

The moment his six weeks healing time for his tongue piercing was up, the first thing he wanted to do was eat you out. He simply had to. But that wouldn’t stop him from taking his time and making you squirm.

“Can you hurry up?” You whined, your hand subconsciously pushing his head down toward your cunt, the thick fragrance of your arousal lingering in the air. 

Megumi could only smirk against your lacy panties, his dark eyes glancing up at you from between your legs– if your phone wasn’t so far away right now you’d be taking a fucking picture and making it the background of every device you owned. 

“You’re so demanding,” Megumi grinned, pressing a wet kiss to the inside of your thigh, his fingers curling into the plush skin. 

“You’ve made me wait weeks, I think I can be a little demanding,” you retorted with a playful roll of your eyes. 

“Mmm, sure,” he said, seemingly disinterested. 

The back of your hand instinctively pressed against your mouth to stifle the pathetic whine you let out when Megumi finally– finally– pressed a kiss to your puffy clit through your panties. The friction wasn’t nearly enough but it made you dizzy nonetheless. 

“Shh,” Megumi pressed your thighs down, forcing you to stop squirming. He pressed down on the backs of your thighs, forcing you to spread open for him. 

His tongue darted out, licking from your dripping pussy to your clit through your panties, his tongue piercing catching on the swell of your clit. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at the root as you forced him closer.

His long finger curled around the fabric of your panties, forcing the material to the side to finally press his tongue against your hole, savouring the taste of your sweet arousal. You tipped your head back as he toyed with you, his thumbs spreading apart your folds so he could press the ball of his tongue piercing against your cute little clit. 

“F-Fuck, Gumi,” you whined, toes curling as his thumb traced around your sopping hole, the ball of his tongue piercing rolling against your little bundle of nerves, forcing your cunt to squeeze around nothing.

He kept teasing you, his thumb dipping across the wetness of your hole without pressing into you like you desperately needed. He kept toying with your clit, switching between light rolls of his tongue and gentle sucking.

You began to grind your hips against his face in desperate need of friction. Megumi’s hands pressed flat against your tummy, forcing your hips to still. 

“Patience,” he whispered against your folds, your slick arousal dripping down his chin. He traced his fingers down the inside of your thigh, the other hand still holding your hips down. The roughness of his thumb pressed against your clit, gently circling the reddened bud.

He licked a painfully slow stripe up your folds, the coldness of his tongue barbell catching against your warmth and making you whine softly. 

Fuck, you tasted so good. 

“Mm, fuck, baby,” Megumi groaned, his tongue barbell swirling around your clit as the tip of his middle finger prodded at your sopping hole. 

He gave a hard suck to your swollen clit as he pressed his long finger into you, forcing a whiny moan from your throat. He pushed in a second finger, the slipperiness of your pussy making it easy for him to curl his fingers around that spongy spot inside you. 

The lewd squelching sounds would have embarrassed you on any other occasion if it weren’t for how fucking good it felt to have Megumi’s long fingers curling and scissoring your pussy open while he sucked and curled his tongue against your clit. 

Your belly began to burn, unable to stop yourself as you grind your hips against his face. Megumi grinned against your wetness, shaking his head from side to side over your slick clit and forcing you to scream out, your hands gripping the sheets beside your head.

“Fuck!” you yelled out, chest heaving as you panted, Megumi’s relentless abuse against your sensitive clit sending you hurling over the edge.

Your toes curled and your back arched off the bed as Megumi fucked his fingers into you through your high. Your pussy clamping down on his fingers and coating them with your slick sweetness. 

Megumi pressed his hips into the bed, his cock rock hard from hearing and tasting all of you. 

You panted and whined as Megumi kissed at your folds, licking up the remnants of your orgasm and pulling his fingers gently from your spasming hole. 

You sighed at the empty feeling, your eyes pressed closed as you came back down from your high. You almost didn’t register Megumi crawling back up the bed before he pressed his finger against your pretty lips.

You opened your mouth, letting him press his slick fingers against your tongue, forcing you to taste your own sweetness, “good girl,” he said, voice low and laced with arousal. 

You sucked his fingers clean, your little hand wrapping around his veiny wrist as his free hand reached for the buckle of his belt.

You’d be in for a surprise when you saw his other piercing. 

author's note: teehee just a lil one.

[gaozorous-rex-blog]

Oooooh, that'd be so fun! But also, this little scene popped up in my head as soon as I read, "Jazz as Oracle":

Just as Tim was about to leave the Cave after delivering the latest samples from a Rogue attack, the Bat computer's screen lit up with a picture of Oracle on it.

She... Looked so much like Jazz it hurt. Well. A very, very overworked and underpaid Jazz. Which, was exactly what one Barbara Gordon WAS. To be honest, most superheroes were. At least in this life he got a great paycheck and an actual future to go with all the shitty trauma. Hurray for trust fund babies, I guess. Even when dropping out of highschool, you can get an amazing job.

"..im?! TIM!?!"

..Ah. He spaced out while staring at her. Awkward.

"Hey Babs. Sorry about that. What do you need?"

"Are you okay, Tim?? I called you like 10 times..."

"Yeah, just a bit tired. I'm going to sleep for like a week after this case," he jokes. Like they ever had time for that much sleep, but he's incredibly tempted to go on a damn vacation from his day job just to get over himself enough to get work done as efficiently as possible again. These memories were incredibly inconvenient, especially when it involved regaining past powers when one worked on a team of POWERLESS individuals. Yeah... Life hates him.

"Living the dream right there," she jokes right back, but he can tell through her eyes that she's still worried about him. "Anyway, I'm just doing another info drop on the case, and just wanted to check in on you, what with that fight with Scarecrow a week ago... You know you can rely on the girls and I to cover for your patrol or talk to any of us about what happened if you want, right? You aren't alone, Tim. We're here for you if you need us."

Sigh. Of course. Ever since that night and after recovering enough to function, then basically telling them to fuck off in more polite words (and then later in less polite words when they kept bothering him), they've all been hounding him with all of this feel good shit they don't even actually believe in when it comes to him. He was so over it it's not even funny. He couldn't repress his bitter chuckle.

"Are you kidding me? I'm definitely not useful enough to you to ask for that sort of thing. See ya, O. I got shit to do."

And with that, he turned around, marched to his bike, and revved out of the Cave like the hounds of hell were after him. He didn't notice nor care to notice the absolutely stunned face of one Barbara Gordon as she watched him leave.

This... Definitely complicated things. Bruce was going to have a conniption. Dick... Oh, DICK... Barbara was already getting a headache over the wailing he'll no doubt be doing once he finds out what Tim thinks of them all. If she could get them all to stay alone in a room with a therapist, she'd literally beg Harley to help them with as much of their issues as possible. But it was like trying to herd CATS with these idiots. Tim especially. He was the wiliest cat of all of them. Sigh. Well there goes her already booked evening. She's so glad her couch is the comfiest cloud to rest on. She's gonna need it after this shit show of a debrief. (But if it could somehow help Tim, then she would consider it worth it.)

Screaming into the night

Danny is reborn as tim.

Tim gets his memories back near the beginning of his robin run when he still has a rocky relationship with Bruce. He’s scared and keeps his mouth shut. This goes on for years never getting the right time to be revealed.

It isn't until the scarecrow uses a new fear gas that it comes up. Tim is hit and has to relive the portal incident. He is screaming with no brakes and does not respond to anyone.

The bat family has idea what he is seeing but they do find out from scarecrows taunting that the gas makes you relive your most painful memories. The entire family is wondering when this happened and when Tim wakes up he is not going to be very forthcoming.

[nightingale-prompts]

Do NOT Touch a God- DC x DP Prompt (Tim x Danny)

Correction: don't touch Danny.

A rule has been added to the house rules of Titans Tower. It started after the arrival of the summoning of the interdimensional teen that takes residence there.

Despite being only a teenager the power he held was at the level of a god. He causally reshaped reality around him to his liking. Rooms are made bigger on the inside but remain the same outside. Danny's hate for things getting too dirty made all clothes left on the floor for too long disappear into the laundry room and spilled drinks evaporate. The tower became self-cleaning as everything found its place on its own. Danny said it was just what he prefers, lab safety and all that. Sometimes Danny would turn off gravity, no reason be just likes it like that.

Unfortunately, he doesn't go on missions except for extreme situations where he is needed. He is content to spend his time in the med bay as the resident healer. He is also one of the few that can fix up Cyborg. Danny doesn't get involved unnecessarily. This has led to a few arguments in the past over how unhelpful he can be despite being able to help them. Danny shrugs it off and disappears when it happens. It was not fair on him, if he didn't want to fight he shouldn't have to. He was an asset and he offered his help freely.

So why does the No Touch rule exist? Well, Danny doesn't like touching people. He wears gloves for a reason especially when he is working in the bay fixing up everyone after a mission. He also avoids others touching him, shrinking away when someone tried.

Everyone respected that boundary but after a rough mission in particular Kon started an argument with him. The injuries were severe and he was just mad that M'gann was hurt. Danny was already overwhelmed with healing everyone and Kon seemed to strike a nerve. When Kon almost made contact with him Danny flickered out of existence and reappeared further away.

After several hours of fixing broken bones and open wounds Danny retreated.

Tim decided to check on him later. Kon was sorry for overreacting and blaming Danny for something he couldn't control but Danny probably didn't want to see him right now.

Danny looked worse for wear when he opened the door. He looked tired, weary from using his energy. He wrapped a blanket around himself.

They talked for a while. Mostly about nothing important, other times about how stressful things were right now.

Tim often found it hard to believe that Danny wasn't just a normal teen. Then again, what did he know about normal?

But he had wondered something.

He reached out and tried to hold Danny's hand but Danny moved away quickly noticing.

"You shouldn't do that." He said simply.

Had he been Dick he would repect the boundaries and if he was Jason he'd probably agree. But he was Tim and Tim was very bad at boundaries. That's kind of how he got here.

"Why not?" Tim asked.

"It might be too much," Danny said cautiously eyeing Tim who held his hands up.

"Try me."

Danny sighed and removed one of his gloves and touched his hand to Tim's shoulder.

All at once different sensations filled his senses. A comforting touch of a friend, a light fluttering of a passing stranger on the street, a strike of a hated rival, the steady hand of a family member, the playful tap of a classmate, the caress of a lover...all at once. Each feeling is defined but also blurred. It was almost like being pulled in thousands of directions as they tried to claim a part of Tim into their reality.

A single touch sent him into a trace. When Danny pulled away he expected to have broken Tim like how a child accidentally snaps their toys when playing. He knew his touch could overwhelm people almost to death. Clockwork said he'd be able to control it some day but Danny didn't even want to test it. Being able to fracture someone's mind was scary. Seeing it happen once was enough. So why did he try it on Tim? Did he not care what happened to him?

It's a bit selfish and embarrassing to admit but...not being able to touch another person was awful. He's not clingy but it feels like he has lacked sensation for a long time. Tim willingly asked for this and Danny wanted this as well.

Tim wasn't broken. Infact he had never felt more alive. When Danny removed his hand he found himself pulling it back to him. He couldn't explain it but it felt like...everything. Indescribable but amazing. It was contradictory but all of it made sense.

"Do it again!"

Things kind of escalated from there. It would probably be crass to even say it but let's just say that neither was lacking sensation. It was profound, not purely physical nor emotional, something else entirely. The religious sort would call it divine or a blessing, perhaps it was what heaven feels like. Others would call it sinful, partaking in things no human was meant to know or experience. The folly of humanity.

It was certainly addictive though. Whispered words echoed in every tongue. With every contact a new chorus created. The memories of long dead god flashed and worlds yet unawakened showed themselves. And just when it seemed like everything in the universe had collided and finally made sense...it was over.

There was a knock on the door.

Danny managed to roll the breathless, Tim off with a groan. He stretched feeling a bit locked up. He had been holding each other for a while now.

He opened the door and saw Kon standing there nervously.

"Look, Im sorr-"

"Danny?" Tim called out groggily interrupting whatever Kon was saying.

"I'm busy," Danny said quickly closing the door to go back to...you know.

(So were they having sex or just cuddling? I have no fucking idea and I wrote this. I feel like it's a secret third that is somehow worse.)

[mynahx3]

I'll Make You Better, Baby 1.5k

This is a lil drabble of @meo-eiru elf OC Silas. The lil cutie just wants to take care of his little human Hope everyone enjoys!! Got inspired after getting sick ;-;

WARNINGS: Noncon oral (male receiving), forced infantilization, implied kidnapping, implied prior noncon, weird misunderstood mom/ baby relationship, Silas does not understand his feelings for reader lol GN! Reader

Being sick had to be one of the worst things to happen at this very moment. It hurt to move; you barfed almost everything you ate, and all you wanted to do was curl up in bed and sleep until you felt better.

When it happened before, you would stay home from work. Recover bundled in your bed with a plethora of medications on your nightstand, maybe with a cup of tea or two to soothe your aching throat. Either sleep the day away or spend the time bingeing your favorite show.

Things like that took time for you to get better, but they were conventional.

Now if someone told you that you'd be forced into the care of a delusional elf after getting lost in the enchanted forest, you'd call them crazy. But here you were, being pampered as he insisted on feeding you strange concoctions, doting on you like a mother would.

Only a mother wouldn't be doing this to their child.

Silas currently had you on the bed, bundled in the blanket, but you were on your knees. He stood at the foot of the bed; being as tall as he was, he loomed over you like a giant. His eyes were lovestruck and filled with tears as he guided your head up and down his length.

The taste of him was all over your tongue; a mix of his cum and drool went down your chin. Not bad, per say; it tasted sweeter with a hint of saltiness, unlike any human you've ever been with.

His fingers were tangled in your hair as he assisted you, moving your head with a firm but gentle touch. Your mouth aches around him, and he barely went halfway; your throat felt raw and stretched as you took more and more of him in.

"Feels so good, my baby." Silas praised, his hips bucking more into your throat on accident. "Let me, let me help you."

The action made you gag, hands pushing harder on his hips. It was a miracle you could breathe with how much your nose was stopped up much less with his monster of a cock down your throat.

You closed your eyes and tried to relax, focusing on your breathing and blocking out the sensation of him filling you up. It was a task easier said than done. Silas moans above you, high and needy like always, long ears down and twitching; his entire face blushed a deep red.

When this was first proposed, you fought it, like always; your weak attempts did nothing to phase him. His strength compared to yours was like night and day; he easily picked you up from the floor where he found you in the bathroom after dinner.

Doting on you, cleaning you up after barfing, and then claiming he had to feed his baby. That he needed to give you your medicine.

You knew what that meant. Another session of swallowing his fluids. His blood. His cum. He tried to get you to drink milk from his large chest, but that didn't work, to his disappointment, so he had to make due. He was still trying to trigger his lactation to no avail.

Not much was known of the magical realm to humans, much less elves. Magical beings were said to have healing properties, but this way was… demeaning.

A choked sound comes from you; his hips move faster as he continues to force his fluids down your throat. You open your eyes, your hands pushing harder on his hips, trying to find the strength to pry yourself off him, but he only cooed at you sweetly.

With a hand over yours, he guided it along what didn't fit in your mouth, making it run along it smoothly. The taste was overwhelming, and his cock had a velvety texture over your tongue, making it difficult to resist the sensation. Letting out a muffled cry, you looked up at him, tears going down your cheeks, trying to convey your discomfort, but he only smiled down at you, tears in his own eyes.

"Just a little longer." He urged, moans escaping his lips as you gargled on his length. "A little longer and you'll feel better. Mommy will make you feel so good, I promise."

The sound of his voice was both soothing and unsettling, as you struggled to comply with his demands. Each passing moment felt like an eternity, the taste of him becoming more unbearable with each passing second. But you knew you had no choice but to endure it, hoping that eventually it would all be over. As you fought back the urge to gag, his grip on your head tightened, pushing you further down.

Moaning in pleasure, he gently patted your hair, whispering words of encouragement that only added to your discomfort.

"Such a strong baby. You'll be full soon, so full and happy."

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes as you tried to block out the sensations overwhelming you. With how fast he was moving and how loud he was, it wouldn't be long.

His hips stuttered, his breathing becoming more erratic as he reached his peak. The sound of his pleasure-filled moans filled the room, making your skin crawl even more.

As he finally came, your mouth was filled even more. The hot, fruity taste of his release made you gag, but you forced yourself to swallow it down, knowing there was no other choice.

"There you go, there you go." He encouraged, making sure to keep his hold on you until you swallowed every drop.

He was groaning as he felt your tongue travel along his length, sending shivers down his spine. He almost felt his knees give in from the sensations, but he held on, reveling in the pleasure you were giving him.

As he released his grip on you, you felt a wave of relief wash over you; this gave you the moment to gasp for air. The room fell silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing of both of you.

You could feel his eyes on you, watching your every move as you tried to compose yourself. Harder for you than him. Although you were still experiencing headaches and body aches, at least your nausea had subsided. The frown was back on your face, something that you never really tried to hide anymore.

Silas wiped the remnants from your chin before kissing you gently, his tongue going into your mouth in a slow, sensual manner. He let the kiss go on for what felt like an eternity, his hands exploring your body with a gentle touch. Eventually, he pulled away with a soft smile, cupping your face as he pecked your nose, ignoring the way you glared at him.

"Come sleep with mommy, baby!"

He looked fine, aside from the light blush on his cheeks and pointy ears. As cheerful as always, fixing himself to get ready for bed, he preferred to sleep in the nude.

You really couldn't stand him, you thought, a grimace on your face as you reluctantly followed him to bed. The two of you followed your usual routine since you've been sick.

He made you drink a mysterious liquid from a glass; it was a dark red, almost like blood, and knowing him, it most likely was.

He grinned broadly when you handed him the glass back after drinking it. The taste was of iron and cherries, a strange combination that surprisingly wasn't as bad as you expected. You couldn't help but wonder what exactly he was giving you, but you were used to it by now. His coddling, his singing, and his insistence on taking care of you despite your protests.

You were used to it all by now. Plus, you were really too exhausted to fight anymore.

With you nestled against his chest and a blanket around the two of you, his arms encircling your body like a vice, he was beyond happy. Silas always had a way of getting what he wanted, even if it meant invading your personal space. You couldn't stand him or his behavior at times.

Occasionally, though, he was right.

The effects of his bodily fluids were no doubt working their magic on you, leaving you feeling surprisingly content. You felt warm all over and strangely full in your stomach, like if you had eaten a delicious soup. Your throat was finally free of the acid from barfing and whatever he had done to it.

Looking at him, he slept peacefully, snoring lightly as he laid next to you in bed. Despite his annoying habits, there was a sense of comfort in his presence.

No, no. That wasn't it.

You closed your eyes, shaking your head. The warmth of his body next to yours was simply soothing, nothing more.

You weren't thinking straight; it had to be the fever getting to your brain.

It didn't help that you really needed to get some sleep.

Relaxing more against him, you felt your eyes grow heavier, the sound of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful slumber. The fever-induced delirium was taking its toll, but for now, you were content to drift off in his comforting embrace.

[tsuutarr]

Yandere!Hero (Chosen One) x Saint!Reader

Being the Hero – the Chosen One – means that the world’s fate is on Elias’ shoulders. He’s long since forgotten how to live for himself, his life belonging to everyone but him. He’s merely a puppet that’s being strung along by the world for the sole purpose of saving it.

At first, he was honored to be chosen as the Hero – it’s a privilege most don’t get. But everyone expects too much – everything – from him. His life is carefully shaped into what others want of him, people only looking at his role and not him as a person.

Now, he fights and saves people due to duty, not desire. There is no sparkle of pride when he helps villagers. Instead, all that is left is another thing checked off of his mental checklist. Now, he just wants to rest. He just wants things to be over.

So that’s why he despised the idea that some Saint from the Church would be his “helper.” Traveling with someone else is only going to slow him down. Not to mention the fact that he doubts the Saint has ever seen bloodshed and disease like he has.

But when he actually meets and travels with you, the Saint, he realizes that you’re actually not that bad. You’re actually kind of nice. He’d expected you to turn your nose at the commoner population, refusing to heal them, but you actively seek them out to help. You’re kind and gentle, but headstrong. Even when you’re visibly exhausted, you do your best to keep going. 

It’s… kind of impressive, actually. He had misjudged you, perhaps.

Even now, you’re helping the knights that were attacked by bandits (which Elias had vanquished), healing not only their bodies but their souls, too. He can’t help but look at you, a raw beacon of kindness that he hasn’t seen before in his travels. 

Once you’re done healing the knights, you look up at him, before a gasp escapes your lips. “Elias!”

He blinks at you, curiously.

“You’re bleeding!”

“Ah.” Elias looks down at his hand, blood dripping down his fingers. He had instinctively grabbed a knife by the blade earlier because he wouldn’t have been able to dodge it in time. “This is nothing.”

“Oh, shush!” you say, approaching him. You push him towards a tree stump, forcing him to sit, which he allows. Carefully, you take his hand in yours, frown deep set on your mouth. Your hand is so warm that it makes his heart burn.

“You’re tired,” he states, bluntly. He doesn’t tug his hand out of yours. “You’ve healed too many people.”

“I can–”

“No.” He shakes his head. “Rest for now, Saint. I am fine.” And he’s right – he’s the Hero, after all. His wounds heal much faster and better than a normal human being. He doesn’t necessarily need your healing.

“Still,” you murmur, looking up at him. “Can I at least clean and bandage it?”

It’s pointless, really, but Elias says, “Do what you want.”

So you do. You disinfect and clean his wound, before carefully wrapping his hand with bandages. For some reason, his heart squeezes painfully as he watches you tend to him so gently. He doesn’t remember if anyone’s ever treated him this kindly.

“There.” You look proud of yourself. It’s kind of cute.

“You didn’t have to,” he mutters without really thinking about it.

You give him a smile that makes his brain stop. “I wanted to. I want to support you.”

For some reason, your words almost make him want to cry. He’s not sure why – he’s seen so much death and destruction to the point that his emotions have become numb. Yet, you bring flickers of his feelings back to him – happiness, sadness, anger, love. 

You make him feel like he has an existence beyond just being the Hero. You make him feel human.

So, how can he let you go? He can’t – and he’ll do everything he can to make you his. Even if it means he has to destroy the world.

[lupinescribbler]

How to write Injuries!

Note this is how to utilize them in your story and not going into the physical details how how to write every type of injury, because that second one would both stretch my medical knowledge and be way too expansive for a tumblr post.

1) Research

Knowing about the malady you are afflicting your character with is important. In the most optimal case this involves talking to an actual medical professional who is well-versed on that type of injury. However, since not all of us have doctors at our beck and call, a few articles from decent sources can suffice. Typically you're going to want these pieces of info:

symptoms (description fodder)

mechanism (how could this injury be sustained?)

level of impairment (know how and to what level the injury would reasonably impair someone. This info might need more digging around than the others)

healing time (know how long it takes to heal from this injury)

treatment (potentially including symptom management)

Having this knowledge will help ground your story in at least a touch of realism. Make sure your symptoms match the injury, make sure the mechanism of the injury is sufficient and just overall makes sense for the injury, don't have someone with a broken leg strolling around like nothing happened, don't have the healing time unexplainably short or long, don't treat shock by trying to cool them off, etc.

A quick note, if you are doing a fantasy/not-real injury or illness you don't get to necessarily skip this step. In fact, imo, it can become even harder since you have to fill in these details yourself. Remember, internal consistency is key.

2) Attach Relevance

You want the injury to matter to the plot or character development. Does the broken leg prevent a character from joining a big battle? Does the flu present an extra challenge to going to their daughter's dance recital? Does being weak or out of the action aggravate their hero complex or self worth issues prompting growth or self-reflection? Does a captive's injuries complicate a rescue mission? Does having their dominant arm injured force a usually brunt force reliant powerhouse to be more creative in their strategies? Does the overpowered character have to rely on their friends/allies more because of a certain injury?

Use the injury to show the level of a character's commitment or mental toughness, use it as an obstacle they have to work around, use it to up the stakes, use it to force them to be vulnerable or else show how unwilling they are to being vulnerable, use it to thwart the main team's perfect plan, use it to push a situation into even more dire straits, use it as an alternative to character death, etc etc. These are just a few ideas, there are numerous different ways you can use different injuries/illnesses in stories. Really think about how it could affect or reveal things about the plot, characters, and relationships.

As always, remember writing advice is highly subjective. Find what works for you. My number one writing advice is always to not take writing advice as hard truths :) happy writing!