#but why is that man waterboarding himself

[mochinek0]

Drama-Bomb: Part 3

Marinette could feel the tension in the dining hall, as soon as she entered. A man, very similar to Damian, was at the head of the table. On his left was his mother and on the right were three gentleman; obviously his brothers from the way he described them. She could feel everyone's gaze on her immediately.

'Why did he decide now of all times to tell them about us?'

"So, how did you two meet?" Dick asked, immediately after Marinette had sat down.

"Dick!" growled Bruce.

"What we're all curious?" he defended himself, "Shouldn't we ask?"

"I see you gave them nothing." Marinette turned towards Damian.

"Was I suppose to?" he questioned, "I seem to recall a similar situation. Waterboarding would have been a better experience.

Mari giggled, "Maman was not that bad, not this quick, either. "

"Your father's size, at the very least, would have been enough." Damian recalled.

"I told you he looked big, but was a teddy bear." she smiled.

"Father is big." Damian stated, "You're father rivals Bane."

"Teddy Bear." Mari sang back.

Damian sighed. He knew he wasn't going to win this argument. He looked up to see his family was already examining their body language and mannerisms.

The Waynes remained silent. Damian and his girlfriend seemed close. She was teasing Damian and he wasn't getting upset. Apparently, he was secure enough to meet her parents. How long ago, they had no idea.

She turned towards Dick, "We met at university."

"How long have you been dating?" Tim asked next, "Apparently, Damian mentioned years? I was asleep when he told us."

"Two, almost three." she answered, calmly.

The Waynes sat there in shock. They knew Damian wasn't one to joke, but how had they not noticed him in a relationship for that long. How had he snuck out and left on dates?

'Have we gotten sloppy?'

Damian leaned closer to her, "They like to pry into every detail. They feel offended I was able to keep you a secret for so long."

Mari just giggled.

"What made you ask him out?" Jason questioned.

Marinette sighed, "Seems you've misunderstood. Damain asked me out."

She noticed that seemed to have caught them all off guard, even his mother.

Offended, Damian huffed, "I have eyes; thank you."

"Uh, De-Damian…same question." Jason spoke.

"Her creativity and intelligence." He announced.

"Huh?" Dick replied.

"We have business classes together." the youngest explained, "She has a unique way of looking at problems and strategizing her work."

"Why did you say yes?" Tim asked, quickly.

Damian's girlfriend smiled, "I like how honest he is."

"I mean," Jason shrugged, "that's one way to say 'offend people'."

"More like he is blunt with his words." Mari replied, "He doesn't mix his words or hide behind lies. It's not something everyone likes. People like to hear what they want, not what they need."

That wasn't the answer they had been expecting.

Talia sipped on her wine, "You know, Dear, you could do so much better."

"Mother!" Damian growled out.

Marinette remained silent and looked down at her plate.

'I guess everyone else thinks the same. They're all so quiet. His dad has just been looking at me and hasn't even asked me a question.'

"Silence, Damian." Talia remarked, "I was talking to Marinette."

'What?'

Marinette looked up towards Talia. She could see Jason cackling out of the corner of her eyes. She quickly looked at her boyfriend and surprisingly, he looked offended.

"My Dear," his mother continued, "if I have learned anything, is that these Wayne Boys, adopted or not, have the emotional compatibility of a gold fish. Something is always making them late for a date or they have to reschedule, last moment. Holidays like Valentine's Day or Anniversaries are not a priority for them; it's just another day to forget."

Marinette could see Bruce's face turning red and him attempting to shrink into the background. She couldn't help the snort and started laughing.

"Habibiti?" Damian asked, concerned.

"Relax, Damian." Mari smiled, "I'm sure your mother is just watching out for you. You mentioned your parents don't live together so she's sharing her experience. They do have a lot of questions; I believe my parents interrogated you as well."

Damian leaned against the back of his chair, "Tch."

They watched in amazement as Damian's girlfriend seemed to have some sort of command over him. He didn't talk back or complain. Talia watched as the boy she had raised fall in line with his lover. The feeling eased Bruce a tiny bit about the whole dinner.

"If our relationship were to continue, in the future, I'll sign whatever prenup you want me to, as long as my lawyer looks it over first." Marinette explained, trying to ease the tension in the room.

"Huh?" spoke a confused Tim.

"Well," Mari began, "Damian isn't as……extroverted as Mr. Wayne, but a woman does need her own reassurance."

"Such as?" Bruce asked, not sure if he liked what the answer was going to be.

"Damian keeps the Wayne fortune and I keep the money I make from my own business. I'll even keep my maiden name, if that's your desire." she stated, "Many woman want money, power or fame. Others…..revenge."

"And you?" Jason prodded.

"Let's just say if Damian were to follow in his father's….playboy theatrics," she smiled, "he would spend the rest of his life in regret and searching for someone who would never be found again."

Bruce cleared his throat.

'No wonder Damian told me not to use the 'Brucie' persona. She was definitely not a fan.'

"I don’t know." Dick chimed in, "He has the money and the power….the resources."

Marinette opened her mouth, but Damian shouted, "Enough!"

He turned to her and kept his gaze on his girlfriend, "Instantly?" he questioned.

Marinette glared at him, "Damian, you would be lucky if that's all I do. Adrien knows damn well how I get when I'm angry. I can and will leave you in a pile of ash, should you turn into my enemy. If you touch one of the few people I despise, beyond reason, I'll leave half your body on your mother's doorstep and the other, here, on the manor steps."

The room fell silent, with a bated breath for Damian's reaction.

"Understood, Habibiti." he replied.

"What if it's for a business meeting?" Dick quickly questioned.

He quickly found himself on the other end of Marinette's glare. He found he didn't like it and understood why Damian had caved. It was worse than Bruce's silence and Alfred's disappointment stance.

"Damian knows how to speak up for himself and say no. He doesn't like unknown people in his personal space and I respect his boundaries." Mari declared, "The fact that you have to ask me, tell me you still haven't learned this and you don't know your brother at all. The only thing that will happen is he will harbor resentment towards you."

"And if Damian chooses to come live with me?" Talia asked, shifting the focus.

"Fashion is universal." Mari smiled, "I can buy materials and sell from anywhere. I've had my own clients since I was thirteen."

Plagg zipped out from his hiding place, "Give me cheese, already! I'm tired of the back and forth when they all know."

"Plagg!" Damian hissed.

He turned to see his holder's family looking confused and frozen.

"Oh, they didn't know." he guessed.

"No they didn't!" Damian growled, reaching for him, "You're not getting your cheese now!"

"No!" Plagg cried, and quickly flew at Damian's face.

He latched on and whined, "It's your fault! You didn't feed me!"

"You didn't feed him!" Marinette asked, glaring at him.

The family watched the back and forth argument, trying to grasp what was going on. It was like Damian was being scolded for not feeding a child; no, not just a child, their child.

"I fed him!" Damian argued back.

Marinette gave him a pointed look.

"He fed me 'string cheese'!" Plagg cried out, "It didn't even taste like cheese. It was peelable! Bug, your husband is a menace to society!"

Marinette sighed, "That’s' why he's your holder."

'Wait! Damian's married!'

'Since when did he get a floating cat?'

'What is that thing?'

'How does she know what it is and why is Damian taking care of it?'

'If Demon Brat being a menace is a good thing. That thing isn't so good.'

Talia smiled, raising her glass, "Seems I underestimated you."

"Yes, you did." Marinette spoke, keeping her eyes on Talia.

The last thing she expected was for Damian's mother to say was, "Welcome to the family."

"Wait!" shouted Jason, "What?"

Marinette sighed, "Come out, Tikki. Might as well, since Plagg's stomach got him in trouble again."

The Batfam watched as a giant ladybug flew from out of nowhere and yanked on the floating cat's eat, chastising him.

"What are they?" Time questioned.

"Kwamis." Talia spoke, "Or Gods, to be precise."

Marinette glanced at Damian's mother. Talia held up her hands in surrender, briefly.

"Seems my son is much more tact when it comes to this relationships." she declared, with a smile "To think you hid a marriage from both of us."

Bruce tensed. He had forgotten the flying cat had called him that.

'He hadn't known Damian was dating. He didn't know he had gotten married. What else didn't he know about his son?'

Bruce looked over at his son and noticed his ear tips had turned red.

"Uh, that's Plagg's nickname for him." Marinette spoke, clearly embarrassed, "We're not….actually married."

Bruce relaxed more into his seat.

"We should-" he began.

Mari declared, "They won't be picked up on any recording devices, visually or audio."

"Alfred!" Jason shouted, "Bring out the hard liquor."

Bruce just nodded. He hadn't expected anything that had happened this week. His son was dating someone with access to Gods. Talia was sitting at the dinner table like she had always lived there. The girlfriend obviously knew who they all were and about his son's questionable past. A drink sound like a good idea.

[vroomvroomwee]

I don't think we as fans realise how good of a ship Valastor has the potential to be.

I always see these takes that Alastor thinks Valentino is gross, or stupid, or annoying, and Valentino just thinks Alastor is way too overrated in Vox's eyes. But, if we really sit back to analyse their personalities, they're... not that different at all?

Alastor respects power, and he respects people who can dissemble their feelings behind a fake smile, who can lie and cheat and deceive and con the same way he does effortlessly. Who do we know who has a good, firm grasp on not just his own feelings but others' as well?

Valentino. Say what you want about episode 2 and Val being reckless about Angel's moving out, but if he really wanted to kill him he would have done so, he wouldn't have sat on his ass waiting for Vox like a princess in a tower. He would have gone to that hotel and shot him. Which means he knew perfectly well what he was doing. He WANTED Vox to believe he was going to go berserk, and it worked like a charm. After that, he had his little vent session and flung the information of Alastor’s return like no bid deal, knowing how Vox would react. Then, he ENJOYED watching Vox fall into manic rage. He ENJOYS playing with people's feelings, and the only instance where we truly see a glimpse of his OWN feelings rising to the surface are in the scenes with Angel. And even then, he's not revealing any vulnerabilities, he's lashing out in anger to regain control. And who else do we know who is a control freak?

Alastor. Alastor who revels in control, who strives to have his authority recognized, who keeps his thralls on a tight leash, who manipulates people to get what he wants (charlie), who plays with people's feelings and intentionally angers them to a boiling point just for his entertainment (lucifer, vaggie) EXACTLY the same way Valentino does.

They have the same deceitful, underhanded methods to gain power. By putting up a genial, friendly facade to lure a victim in, offering comfort and protection, only to eventually drop the mask and reveal the violent monster hiding underneath. They maintain a whimsical, reckless demeanour to hide the calculating, conniving evil lurking beneath, hungry and ready to pounce.

Alastor wouldn't think Valentino is stupid unless he's blinded by ego or insecurity, and he doubtfully will think him annoying since that same ego is why he likes people. The more they reflect him, the more likeable they are in his vain eyes. And he wouldn't think Valentino is gross for being blatantly promiscuous - personally, I actually think Alastor REVELS in the debauchery of hell, his superiority complex is charging every time he gets to display how unaffected he is by sexual acts, how they hold sway over lesser beings which he is not, how lust is a weakness he cannot be tempted by. He doesn't mind talking about or being surrounded by sex because it gives him a chance to put his asexual ass above others. And who do we know who navigates desire and lust with complete control and lack of effort?

Valentino. Valentino who only sleeps with tens (and Vox) because he's more worried about his image, ego and pride than about who he's actually attracted to (or not attracted to since this trait is also a very ace thing to experience). When he talks to the girls at the club (ep 6), his first instinct is to ask if they need a job. He isn't even interested in sleeping with them himself, he's more interested in how much money they can make him. In regards to sex, he is the complete opposite of Alastor. While Alastor evades sex to flaunt his (nonexistent) restraint, Valentino uses sex to assert his own dominance and boost his own desirability. He is more interested in using sex as a means to earn money, put his workers in line, and to hurt. It's the SADISM that draws Valentino in, it's the humiliation, the debasement, the vulnerability, the helplessness that can derive from sex. The man likes to WATERBOARD people for fuck's sake, and I doubt he's ever filmed something that didn't have bdsm themes in it.

He's an arrogant, narcissistic, vile sadist just like Alastor. Do we really think it's a coincidence that Angel and Husk's chains are shown together in Loser, baby, how they parallel their cruel owners? Both Alastor (ep 5) and Valentino (ep 2 and 6) lash out in violent anger the moment Husk or Angel shows a modicum of disobedience and backtalk.

And about Valentino thinking Alastor is overrated - I think that might be his initial opinion of Alastor, until he actually meets him. When he meets him Valentino instantly realises that the tricks he uses on other people won't work on Alastor, because Alastor knows how overlords play these games and unlike Valentino he doesn't play them to climb the social ladder or gain territory or snatch as many souls as possible. His reason is far worse, and far, FAR more terrifying.

He does it for FUN.

And that's why Valentino would quickly realise Alastor isn't someone to mess around with. Not like he does with Vox anyway. Vox is an open book, he wants control, power, customers and to extend his influence and grow his business. Alastor, however, doesn't want any of those. All he wants is to be entertained, to watch the political scheme unfold and to sit back with a bucket of popcorn and watch the chess pieces crush each other. He has NOTHING Valentino could use to gain leverage, not even an offer for sex, and he never knows if Alastor will get bored and decide to make him his next dinner.

Both of them twist the concept of gender and what society expects of them. Valentino's queerness is ostentatious, paraded even. He wears heels, feminine clothes, make up etc. Alastor’s is a bit more underlying. His femininity isn't obvious from a first, visual assessment, but it gradually becomes clear from his movements, his motions, his gesticulations. Valentino views men and women more or less the same with the pansexual mindset of "skin is skin, a hole is a hole. Why does it matter?", while Alastor views men and women more or less the same with the cannibalistic mindset of "anyone is dangerous with a knife and proper amount of rage". Whatever misogyny they might have isn't recognized by them, Valentino's reflects (for example) in his clothing, the way he dresses more masculine for work where he needs to be more authoritative, while he dresses more feminine for other occasions. Alastor’s reflects in his opinion that "women are better than men, they're more tolerable, and most need protection which is why I'm nicer to them" which directly undermines the reality that not all women are dainty and soft, that they can be extremely perverted and despicable too. Either way, they both treat the concept of the gender binary in an unorthodox way.

Also, Alastor wouldn't be disgusted by Valentino's lewd speech or sexual advances would be treated the same way Valentino would treat Alastor’s cannibalistic, gory tendencies: "not my thing personally, but there's a kink for it I'm sure. As long as you keep it away from me, we're good." They're decades old DEMONS, they'll be fine with some unconventional, eccentric habits.

Neither of them stick to the rules or what's expected of them, EVER. Alastor disregards societal expectations of him with vocalised glee, while Valentino does it more subtly - he follows through with them until he reaches the perfect point to step away, shattering the illusion. He NEVER does what people expect and want from him, almost subconsciously.

The only difference that really might drive a wedge between them is the matter of their looks. Alastor wears torn, outdated clothing that he probably hasn't washed in months, not to mention his insistence to keep that godawful fuckass bob, while Valentino can't afford to have a single wrinkle on his expensive, perfect clothes and always keeps his fur in tiptop, clean, fluffy shape. That and the fact that Alastor has no support, unlike Valentino who has a stable partnership with two other very powerful overlords.

They're also both whiny bitches who need constant attention and pampering to survive. They're like catnip to Vox's delusional sugar daddy image of himself and his need to feel necessary and strong. They're pillow princesses who like to be in control. They pose for his cameras and bask in Vox's obsession over them and they LOVE to ignite his temper tantrums. They're untameable, they're unpredictable, which is a sweet, irresistible delight to Vox's secret need for chaos that these two effortlessly bring (and his need to be dominated)

This turned out way longer than I intended. Anyways, my point is these two should fuck. Peace

[iamnmbr3]

I reached the Snape's Worst Memory chapter. Honestly I find this to be one of the hardest things to read in the whole series. The protracted, wanton cruelty is awful - and especially horrifying is the way most people in the scene look on and do nothing, or laugh.

The fact that Snape can never just relax on a nice day. He has to hide himself in the shadows for fear of being attacked and tormented is so sad.

We know what kind of person Wormtail grew up to be and we see here that he was always attracted to hanging around powerful, cruel people who could provide him with sadistic entertainment. He traded James & Sirius for Voldemort once he got out of school of course. But I think it says a lot about the kind of people they were at the time. This wasn't an isolated incident that went especially far, but a regular type of entertainment.

It's really just sick what happens here. They're basically magically waterboarding him at this point. James is exactly the kind of person Harry would have stood up to if they'd gone to school at the same time. I mean after this memory he is so shaken he falls into a depression and wonders if James and Lily ended up together because he forced himself on her.

And to be clear I actually like the narrative potential of Harry discovering that the father he looked up to so much actually was the type of person he despises. I wish a bit more had been done with this though.

The fact that James takes out his frustration with Lily's rejection by tormenting and humiliating Snape more says a lot about him. I also think it's really interesting Sirius is the one who says "[i]f you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals" but he never really connects that sentiment with how he and James treated Snape.

(As an aside I will also never get why JKR thinks James and Sirius are redeemable for this behavior even though we never get to see anything in canon to prove that James or Sirius ever truly acknowledged the depth of how wrong what they did was or regretted it, but somehow she gets all mad at people for suggesting that Draco, who did canonically regret his actions and change his ways and who never did anything like this, was anything other than irredeemable.)

[al-dusty33]

Don't know if I'm going to use this for my Jason Todd x reader story, but I wonder what everyone thinks of this.

Dialogue and scenes used from Arkham Knight, Arkham Knight: Genesis, Deadpool, and Batman: Under the Red Hood.

⚠️!Warning!⚠️: Torture, blood, branding, rotten/poisoned food, freezing, extreme violence with and without crowbar, electric shocks, waterboarding. Pretty much everything about Joker being a monster.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker struts over to the young, fractured Robin hanging by his wrists in the middle of the dimly lit room. It’s a beautiful, awful sight and the Clown Prince of Crime loves it.

“Wakey Wakey, Loverbird!” Joker cheerfully says as he gets closer to Jason.

The moment Jason hears his voice ringing in his ears, he whimpers and tries to shy away from the clown, but no amount of tugging on his restraints will allow him to escape.

It’s been… Two, no, three months since Jason fell into the clutches of the madman. Joker blackmailed Jason’s biological mother into turning him in before being betrayed herself after it was revealed Joker was never going to let her go. Despiste what she did, Jason couldn’t help but still love her.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker’s fingers ghost over the smooth metal bar of the branding iron, “Don’t look at me like that,” A cruel, twisted smile creeps up on Joker’s red painted lips, “Actually, do keep looking at me like that; it just makes it more fun.”

“What’s wrong, little bird? You think I’m going to hurt you?” His gloved fingertips briefly touch the glowing metal J to test how hot it is, “Why?” His head lolls back in a creepy, unsettling way as his green eyes stares deep into the very depths of Jason’s soul, “I’m not the bad guy here,” He shakes his head while almost mockingly saying, “Oh, no, no, no, no,” He walks closer to Jason then softly says, “It’s Batman. He’s abandoned you…” He gently, yet firmly, cups Jason’s chin then shakes the younger man’s head a little, “thrown you away like an unwanted puppy.”

Give him two lips like roses and clover (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker backs up and clasps his hands together like he was begging to someone, “Can I have him, daddy?” He asks in a playful, high-pitched voice, “Oh, please, please, please, please, please? I’ll take real good care of him.”

He turns around to act as the other person then continues speaking in a deeper tone of voice, “Anything to make you happy, princess,” He slowly turns his cruel attention toward Jason, “Just make sure people know he’s yours.”

He snaps his fingers then one of his goons walks into the room, removes Jason’s bound wrists from the hanging hook off the ceiling, and then lets Jason drop to the floor with a thud.

“We don’t want him to end up back here, do we?” He leisurely strides over to Jason, his grin twisting more and more cruel with each step.

With what little strength he has left, Jason tries to crawl into the shadows to bring some form of safety to himself. In some small, hopeful way, he believes Batman would be hiding in those shadows to save him.

Joker stops for a moment to taunt Jason by saying, “No we don’t, daddy,” He steps closer with the burning branding iron getting closer to the young man, “I want to keep him forever!”

Jason’s eyes widen in fear while he tries to crawl farther away. He feels all movement stopping the moment Joker’s foot lands on his back, and the fear he’s feeling intensifies, “No! No please!” He tries to push Joker off of him, but he has no strength left. Instead he continues to beg like a dog, “Please no! No!”

The sound of sizzling skin, Jason’s pained screaming, and Joker’s cruel laugh are the only horrifying sounds that can be heard inside the darkness.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Jason sits hunched over in a wheelchair with barbed wire keeping him in place. Through his ripped costume, he can feel it poking into him and making him uncomfortable; he has to be careful if he doesn’t want to open any veins or arteries.

A door opens behind him, his heart skips a beat thinking Batman was finally here, but the familiar, awful laugh quickly dashes that hope.

“Happy birthday, Jason!” Joker says cheerfully. He walks over to Jason with a pep in his step, “You’re a whole year older! How does that feel?” He sets down a plate of wiggling cake in front of Jason.

Is it really already his birthday or is Joker trying to warp his sense of time?

Don't have nobody to call my own (bung, bung, bung, bung)

Joker smiles down at Jason as he continues speaking, “Don’t you worry, Loverbird,” He snaps his fingers and the door behind Jason swings open, “I made sure to invite some friends for your big day!”

One by one, Jason sees other patients of Arkham Asylum fill the room.

Bane, Calendar Man, Clayface, Poison Ivy, Killer Croc, Victor Zsasz, Two-Face, and Scarecrow, all wearing birthday hats. On the looks of the faces visible, it’s obvious no one wants to be here, but they must be here for something else.

Please turn on your magic beam

“Happy Birthday to you~” The villains all start reluctantly singing to Jason, besides Joker who seems to have something up his sleeve for this event.

Jason looks down at the wiggling cake and he can see the crude writing of “Happy Birthday” on the cake and the worms trying to escape the brown frosting. The sight of it is sickening and he can feel his stomach churning, yet his mouth still watered at the sight of food.

Joker grabs a fistful of Jason’s dark curls and continues to sing happy birthday, “Happy birthday, dear Jason~ Happy birthday to you~” He leans in close to whisper in Jason’s ear, “Make a wish, pumpkin,” Before slamming Jason’s face into the cake.

The clown keeps Jason’s face in the cake for a couple more seconds, almost like he’s trying to suffocate the young man, before pulling his face away while laughing, “That never gets old!”

Joker lets Jason go then turns around, “I have somewhere to be; sorry for not staying longer for your big day,” He looks over his shoulder and smiles, “You have fun with your guests, but remember to brush your teeth, finish your homework, and be in bed by nine.”

And with that, the clown exits the room and leaves Jason with the other patients, who seem excited to have some “fun” with Jason; as evidenced by their sadistic smirks, Bane cracking his knuckles, and Zsasz playing with his sharp knife.

Jason can already feel the dizziness and sickness coming in.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Joker takes his time walking to the chest freezer sitting in the back of the walk-in freezer at the asylum. Walking just behind is Officer Frank Boles holding a flashlight. The officer was bought off by Joker when the clown first obtained the boy blunder six months ago to help keep Jason a secret from everyone else in the asylum and to the people outside.

Make him the cutest that I've ever seen

“Oh, lamb chop! You’ve been hiding in here for nearly half an hour,” Joker stops in front of the chest freezer. He flashes Officer Boles a crazy grin before opening the lid and taking a peek inside, “How are you feeling?”

Jason’s body was violently shivering, his nose was completely red, and his skin was pale, almost like a dead body. He can feel the light shining on him, but his eyes refuse to open too wide, “B-Batman…? Is that y-you?”

Joker reaches out and lightly taps Jason’s cheek, but due to how cold the younger man was, those small slaps hurt a lot. Joker leans his elbows on the edge of the opening then whispers, “Batman’s not coming to save you, Jason.”

“He’ll come…” Jason mutters through chattering teeth as his eyes peer up at Joker’s.

Joker leans back then rests his hands on the lip of the opening, “It’s been six months now, Jason,” He tilts his head in a cruel manner as his smile turns upward even more, “I think it’s time to face facts.”

Jason’s eyes narrow into a glare and he spits out, “S-Screw you!” Despite the cold, the fire still burns in his eyes, albeit a bit dim.

Joker laughs then pats Jason on the head, “That’s the spirit! You’re a real chip off the ol’ Bat block,” He looks down at his hand like he was checking his nails, even though he’s wearing gloves, “Not that it’ll do you any good.

Jason closes his eyes, almost like in a defeated way, “Why w-won’t you just kill m-me…?” He mutters slowly.

Give him the word that I'm not a rover

Joker acts shocked after hearing Jason’s question, “What? No, no, no, no,” He places his gloved hand on his chest to emphasize his point, “I’m not going to kill you,” He shrugs with a sadistic smirk on his face, “not yet anyway,” He leans closer with a big smile on his face and gently taps Jason’s frozen cheek, “You’re my sidekick now. Imagine it,” He waves his hand outward like he was trying to show Jason the scenario, “You and me, out on the streets, starting fights, picking on the weak, a regular dynamic duo,” He reaches into his coat pocket then pulls out a picture while saying, “Just like Bats and that new kid of his.”

Jason tried his hardest to shake his head in disbelief, but his neck felt like it was frozen solid, “No, h-he wouldn’t…” His voice is barely above a whisper.

Joker playfully smirks then tilts his head mockingly, “You think?” He looks down at the picture in his hand, “So this isn’t Batman then?” He shows the contents of the picture to Jason, “The pointy ears are usually a dead giveaway.”

“No…” Jason can feel any hope he has left for Batman to save him slowly draining away.

Joker carefully puts the picture back into his coat pocket, “I didn’t want to show you that photo, really I didn’t,” He looks down at Jason with a mock look of pity, “But, well it was the only way for you to get closure,” He crosses his arms and looks off as he continues speaking, “Now I know it hurts but sometimes,” A big, cruel, sadistic smile appears on his face as he backs up from the chest freezer, “you gotta be cruel to be kind,”

Joker gives a nod to Officer Boles then the officer closes the chest freezer, leaving Jason cold and alone in the dark.

Then tell him that his lonesome nights are over

Sandman, I'm so alone

Jason’s hands is tied behind his back, he’s bloody and bruised, it hurts to breathe, his vision is blurry, and his head feels like it was being split open.

Through his daze he looks up in time for the crowbar to swing and hit him square in the jaw then causing him to fall onto his side with groan of pain coming from him.

He coughs up some blood onto the floor then tried to catch his breath.

Joker steps closer to Jason with the bloody crowbar in hand, “Wow, that looked like it really hurt,” The smile on his lips curls upward into a more twisted grin, his yellowish white teeth on full display.

He raises the crowbar into the air then swung it down on Jason as hard as he can; Joker does this two more times.

Jason falls onto his back and grunts in pain, he can feel blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth. He knows for sure he has fractured and even broken bones in his body that will never properly heal.

Don't have nobody to call my own

“Whoa, now, hang on,” Joker walks closer to Jason breathing heavily on the floor, “That looked like it hurt a lot more,” He carefully pats the crowbar in his hand as he continues speaking, “So let’s try and clear this up,” He cocks his head to the side in a mockingly questioning way, “okay, pumpkin?”

“What hurts more?” Joker raises the crowbar above his head, “A?” Then swings it down onto Jason’s chest, “Or B?” Then swings the crowbar down onto his leg.

“Forehand?” Joker swings the crowbar into Jason’s face, “Or backhand?” He raises the crowbar across his chest before swinging it into Jason’s shoulder.

Joker continues beating Jason with the crowbar, each time causing Jason to grunt and groan in pain, his body to jolt with each swing.

Please turn on your magic beam

Joker maniacally cackles. In his eyes, these past nine months have been a blast. Batman has been miserable, Jason is afun plaything to beat, and Joker loves it!

Jason looks over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing at Joker, then mutters something inaudible under his breath.

Hearing this, Joker gets down onto his hands and knees to better hear the young man, “Ah, uh, ah…” He mocks. He cups his hand over his ear then leans in a bit closer and whispers, “A little louder, lamb chop,” He places his hand in Jason’s hair, “I think you may have a collapsed lung,” While speaking, he ruffles the young man’s hair, “That always impedes the oratory.”

With some strength, Jason lifts his head and spits blood onto Joker’s face. Despites months of torture, Jason refuses to give up; he’s been through hell before growing up in Crime Alley and that didn’t break his spirit.

Joker is shocked, angry, and a bit disgusted by the act and in retaliation grips a fistful of Jason’s hair painfully before slamming his face into the concrete ground.

Joker stands up straight as he glares at Jason on the ground, “Now, that was rude,” He takes out a handkerchief from his jacket pocket then dabs away the blood on his cheek, “The first boy blunder had some manners.”

Jason looks over his shoulder and with a small, cheeky smile on his face, feeling proud of himself for that small act of defiance.

Joker finishes cleaning his face then puts his handkerchief back into his jacket pocket, “I suppose I’m going to have to teach you a lesson so you can better follow in his footsteps,” He looks up in thought for a few moments before a wide grin crosses his face and says, “Nah, I’m just gonna keep beating you with this crowbar,” He steps on Jason’s back and presses more pressure onto his spine.

Jason stares up at Joker then closes his eyes to mentally prepare himself for the beatings.

Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream

Mr. Sandman (yes) bring us a dream

Harley Quinn is the one handling Jason now while Joker is away. The clown gave her a list on what to do with Jason for her to follow. Since she’s madly in love with the madman, she made sure to follow it to the T.

Jason’s wrists is cuffed to the metal bedframe with a bag over his head to block his sight; as Harley Quinn described to him earlier, when a person loses one of their senses, the brain rewires itself and enhances the other senses to pick up the slack.

With Jason’s sight temporarily gone, he feels the things around him more than he would with his sight, and that was Joker’s goal. He can feel the cattle prod shocking the metal of the bedframe before feeling the shock course through his tense body.

Give him a pair of eyes with a "come-hither" gleam

Harley Quinn giggles in delight and claps her hands together, “Isn’t this fun, birdbrain?” She looks down at Joker’s list in her hand and traces the hearts she drew around his name, “Mistah J was so kind to leave us a list of activities to have fun with,” She giggles again before stopping, “Why aren’t ya laughin’!?” She shocks the metal bedframe with the cattle prod and causes Jason’s body to tense up and yells out in pain.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go on like this before finally breaking; he’s been trying to distract himself from the torture by thinking of his life before going after his biological mother, but it sometimes ends with him hurting himself emotionally. He misses his friends and family and would love nothing more than to go back to them, but he still doesn’t regret going after his mom.

Give him a lonely heart like Pagliacci

“M-Mama…” Jason weakly calls out through slur mumbles. He can’t give up, his mom still needs help; even though she was the one who ratted him out to Joker.

Harley Quinn snickers and walks over to Jason. “Shelia ain’t comin’ to get ya, birdie,” She twirls the cattle prod in her hand as she speaks, “Don’t forget, she sold ya out to Mistah J.” She shakes her head and softly chuckles like she was remembering something funny, “Man, I don’t know if ya remember, but the look of her face when she came back with Mistah J was hilarious.”

Jason angrily huffs. He hates hearing her talk about his mom’s misery like that, “Screw you!” After that he was immediately met with the tingling feeling of electricity flowing through his nervous system.

Harley Quinn keeps the cattle prod against the metal for a few more minutes until Jason was a babbling mess. She smiles and lifts the bag to show the drooling, dazed mess underneath. She grabs his hair and forces him to look up at her. She sniffs the air then comments, “Smells like chicken,” Then she let's his head drop.

And lots of wavy hair like Liberace

Mr. Sandman, someone to hold (someone to hold)

Jason was drowning. He was tied down to a chair, on his back, and drowning. He wasn’t actually drowning, but the soaking cloth over his face makes it pretty damn hard to get any air into his greedy lungs.

Harley Quinn checks her nails while she continues to pour water over his covered mouth and nose. She seems bored and over with the whole thing; all she wants to do is spend time with Joker instead of some kid, “Jeez, it’s been almost an hour. How long I got to keep this up?”

Jason gurgles and sputters as he tries to breathe underneath the cloth.

Would be so peachy before we're too old

Harley Quinn cups her hand over her ear and leans down a little while still pouring the water over Jason’s face then asks, “What’s that? I can’t understand ya. Speak up!”

Jason tries moving his head around to get some air, but that only lasted for a few seconds before Harley Quinn was pouring water over his mouth and nose again.

So please turn on your magic beam

Soon the water in the jugs runs dry and Harley Quinn throws it over her shoulder, not caring where it lands. She leaves Jason on the floor for a few more minutes to let him catch his breath and not die of asphyxia.

She looks to her right at the other jug filled to the brim with water to pour over Jason, but her arm was getting tired and she really wants to get out of here to be with Joker.

Harley Quinn looks down at Jason with a big grin on her face, “Good news! I’m wrappin’ up your morin’ constitutional early!” She claps her hands cheerfully then grabs his chair to sit him upright, “We’ll take a quick break, sweetums.”

She takes a few steps away from Jason toward the door, “You and me got another big day ahead of us, Toddy Woddy!”

She opens the door then steps out and closes the door behind her.

Mr. Sandman, bring us, please, please, please

Jason was left sitting alone, dripping wet, struggling to breath, with Mister Sandman by the Chordettes playing in the room. It was a song Joker likes playing when torturing Jason; in some twisted way he finds it a bit comforting to just hear the song when the sounds of his screams, his laughter, and whatever Joker is torturing him with doesn’t mix with the lyrics.

He’s heard from a passing conversation between Joker and Harley Quinn about April 27th is right around the corner; it’s been a whole year since Jason was captured.

Mr. Sandman, bring us a dream

[stabbyfoxandrew]

arson neil plsss🙏

WIP Wednesday (2/12) | Arsonist Neil / Firefighter Andrew AU (Part 279)

Soup is doled out in huge bowls and Andrew receives a piece of bread bigger than his fist to eat with it. He knows it's homemade, because Jean is just the sort of man who casually bakes bread in his limited spare time. It's calming. Or soothing. A couple years ago when he first learned the craft, Kevin had brought over a couple of loaves of bread to Andrew's place saying they were up to their elbows in it. And that continued for a while. But like all good things, it came to an end.

Since Jean doesn't need calmed and soothed as frequently anymore— rather, since Jeremy and Kevin do a better job at it than punching dough does— Andrew doesn't get good bread anymore. What a shame.

Andrew's barely dipped his spoon into his bowl when he realizes the others are staring at him. How had he not realized they'd oriented the seats around the table so it was the three of them all facing Andrew? He feels like he's about to be interrogated or perhaps this was secretly an intervention. He doesn't ask, just starts to eat. He'll be damned if he lets his food get cold because Kevin and his league of idiots is nosy.

"What does he look like?" Jeremy asks, finally breaking the silence that had fallen across the table. Jean gives him a look and Kevin laughs under his breath. "What? We're gonna find out sometime, might as well get that one out of the way."

"He's taller than me—"

"Wow." Jean says, not impressed. 

Jeremy elbows him. "What else?"

"He has brown hair and blue eyes." Andrew says with a shrug as if it's not important. Sure, 10's hair is auburn and curly and longer in the back and he would like to push his fingers into it. But they don't need all the details. Andrew also leaves out the freckles and the scars and the slightly-too-sharp canines he'd run his tongue over last night.

"That's it?" Jeremy looks disappointed.

"Why does it matter?"

"Because you like him," Kevin says as if he's accusing Andrew of something terrible. "You don't like people."

"Correct. But he is not people. He lives in my phone."

"Until last night." Kevin says under his breath. He doesn't seem his usual self and Andrew would almost think he was feeling some tragically misplaced jealously if they were two different people. Andrew ignores him to eat his soup and it really is his favorite. It tastes homey, like a childhood he never had.

He doesn't get to eat it in peace, though. No.

With the floodgates open, Andrew finds himself on the receiving end of a zillion questions. Jean stays mostly quiet, but Kevin and Jeremy are relentless. It was an interrogation after all. So he tells them about 10 in between bites, revealing some stupid simple things he doesn't mind to share. Nothing about 10's life on the run, nothing about his current hobby. Just the basics.

But they don't seem to be enough. Not for Kevin, anyway.

"What is his name?" Kevin asks. And Andrew blinks at him.

"I didn't answer that the first time you asked, why would I now?"

"Because we've plied you with your favorite soup and you want to tell us."

"Soup is not truth serum and you're no hypnotist."

"I'll figure it out somehow."

"You'd have to waterboard me."

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I KNOW THERE'S SOMETHING RIGHT IN BETWEEN US!

I'M MOVING CLOSER BABY, WHY DON'T YOU SEEM TO CARE?

synopsis// “you’re going on a date?” “well yeah..it’s not like we’re exclusive or anything right?” “yeah..yes ofc not” “yeah” (prompt from @jasminesfury)

➚ pairing// choso x gn!reader ➚ word count// 3.2k

contents// suggestive—friends with benefits but nothing explicit/no actual smut, no curses!au, unknown mutual pining, both of u r just idiots tbh

notes// MY MAN MY MAN MY MANNNNN i need to get him pregnant soooo bad. on that note here's a low quality one shot from a low quality man. anyway! besides the prompt this was inspired by better by clairo (shivers)

Choso plops down next to you with a sigh, bringing the sheets up to cover his chest, and instead of cuddling up next to him like you normally do, you sit up and look around the room for your clothes. Once spotted, you snatch the sheets away from Choso and cover yourself with them, leaving him exposed instead.

“Y/n cmon,” he whines as the cold air leaves goosebumps across his bare body.

You hum, ignoring him as you slip your clothes back on, which quickly catches his attention.

“What are you doing?” He asks as he sits up and stares at you with half-lidded eyes; you’d almost consider them fuck-me eyes if you hadn’t already just done that.

"I'm getting dressed, Choso. What does it look like?"

“You’re not staying?”

"No, sorry, I know I usually spend the night after we..." You clear your throat awkwardly as you put on the last of your clothes. “...After we check in the benefits to our friendship, but I have plans tomorrow.”

A lazy smirk plays on his face. “You know you can just say after we fuck, right?”

"I'd rather not—I don't have a dirty mouth like you.”

“…are you sure about that cause you were just-“

“Do not finish that sentence if you ever want to see me naked again, Choso.”

“Got it,” he says, nodding curtly. “So what plans do you have tomorrow that are oh so important to be taking you from me?”

“Oh.” You look away, scratching your cheek awkwardly. "Um, I'm going on a date.”

Whatever small smirk Choso had been previously sporting falls—falls isn't even the correct word. It vanishes in thin air, one second there and gone the next, as quick and fleeting as the clap of a butterfly’s wings. “…you're going on a date?”

"Yeah, I mean..." Your head dips down, your hands now awkwardly fumbling with themselves as you look up at him through your lashes and mutter, "It's not like we’re exclusive or anything, right?”

"Yeah," he nods hesitantly, like he's not even really sure he should be nodding at all. "Yeah, of course not.”

“Yeah… Well…” You quickly clear his throat and approach him, planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "Bye, Choso, I'm gonna get going! talk to you later?”

“Talk to you later, Y/n,” is all he says before you’re rushing out of his house.

The slam of his front door has him gasping, belatedly realizing he had started holding his breath sometime earlier to begin with. Choso feels like he might just vomit now that he's all too aware of everything that just happened and everything that’s currently happening within him. He practically jumps out of bed, stumbling a bit as he pulls on his boxers on his path toward the bathroom.

He comes to a halt in front of his sink, immediately turning it on and splashing his face with water, as if that would actually do something to stop the way his heart is beating at light speed. Choso stands there, borderline waterboarding himself, for god knows how long, and when it doesn’t feel like his legs are about to give out from underneath him like he’s a baby deer standing for the first time, he turns off the faucet and groans.

He should’ve stopped you.

He should’ve told you that he did, in fact, actually want to be exclusive. And if he couldn’t have done that, then at the very least he should’ve tried to get you in bed again—he should’ve done literally anything just to keep you in his grasp and not in the paws of whatever filthy person you’re off to have a date with tomorrow.

but he knows he was playing a losing game all along anyway. It was only a matter of time before you got tired of this and called it off—yet Choso can admit he wished he had just a little bit more time with you before you went off and found something you didn’t know he was more than willing to give you. Choso has loved you from the moment he laid his eyes on you, and never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d have you in any way—but one day, to his amazement, you suggested this arrangement, and Choso was not about to say no.

He was not about to deny himself the only way he might ever be able to have you.

And now it’s seeming like he’ll never be able to have you in anyway ever again, and there’s nothing he can do about it—nothing he can do to make you feel the same way. But at least this was a nice way to end things, with one last hoorah. Choso can at least be happy at the fact that you gave him one last chance to adore you.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Your elbow is on the table with your cheek resting against your fist as you stare at the person in front of you who's talking about something you can't hear. not because it’s loud. No, your date made certain that it wouldn't be by bringing you to a secluded booth in the corner of a romantically lit restaurant, so that's not the problem.

The problem is you.

You didn’t even want to come on this date in the first place; you didn’t think you were actually going to have to end up showing up. What you thought would happen was last night when you told Choso he’d get jealous or do something, anything, to show you that he’s just as head over heels for you as you are for him, and then you'd cancel this date.

But no.

All you got was confirmation that you two truly are just friends with benefits—nothing more, nothing less. And really, it shouldn’t hurt this badly. It shouldn’t feel like someone’s just ripped your heart out and served it on a silver platter for you to watch as it bleeds out. yet it does. And even still, you can't help but be here thinking about Choso. You’ll probably always be stuck thinking about him. You've thought about him so much that you're convinced he's the only thing on your mind. A head filled with nothing but Choso; it's been that way since before you two had what you have going on, and you're sure it'll stay that way long after.

“You know you could at least pretend to pay attention, right?"

They roll their eyes when you do nothing but stare at them in stunned silence. "If you don’t want to be here so bad, why did you even come?”

"I-uh-" you swallow harshly. "I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“Who are they?”

You stare at them blankly. Is it really that obvious? If you didn’t know any better, you’d think you have "I'm in love with Choso!” written smack dab on your forehead.

“You look miserable, and I'd like to think I'm not at full fault for that.” They tilt their head slightly to the side, unamused. "So, who are they?”

“You’re not,” you say, an apologetic smile being the only thing you have to offer them. “You didn’t do anything, really. I just.” You stand up abruptly and quickly exit the booth. "I should go.”

“Yeah,” they agree. “That’s probably best.”

"I'm really sorry again-"

They interrupt your sentence with an impudent wave of their hand, and you frown. But obviously, since this date was doomed from the moment you arrived, you ignore it, pushing their bitterness (though you can’t fully blame them) out of your mind and walking away. As you rush out of the restaurant, you immediately pull out your phone and call Choso. You’re not sure what you would even say; all you know is that you need to hear his voice. Who knows, maybe hearing his voice after that cluster fuck of a “date” will be the very push off the cliff you need to confess. The phone seems to ring for an eternity.

"Cmon, pick up,” you mumble to no one other than yourself and the ghost of the wind.

The line falls, as does your face. Okay. Choso always answers you. So why not now? You shake your head and call him again; maybe he was just in the bathroom or something. This time, the phone only rings once or twice before dropping, and that's when it hits you: he’s ignoring you on purpose. You stop in the middle of the sidewalk, staring at your phone blankly.

What the fuck?

Choso ignoring you?

That's unheard of; Choso would never dare ignore you, yet he is. You rack your brain, searching every nook and cranny for an answer, trying to recall if maybe you did something wrong. You two were fine last night after you left—at least, you think? You can't totally remember if you’re being honest. You’re brain checked out the minute Choso gave you confirmation that he doesn't feel the same about you. You groan to yourself. You have to fix this. First, you just have to figure out what exactly you need to fix, and if you don't have that information, you have a strong suspicion about who might.

☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆

The pounding of your fists on the door falls in tune with the pounding of your heart. You're about to start knocking again when you finally hear the faint grumble of someone from beyond it.

“What the fuck do you-“ He comes to a halt when the door swings open enough to reveal you. "Oh, it's just you.”

You roll your eyes. “Great to see you too, Sukuna!”

He looks you up and down, unamused. “What do you want?”

“Are you gonna invite me in?”

Sukuna looks over his shoulder at something—or rather, someone—before looking back at you. “'m busy.”

“Like the kind of busy me and Choso got going on or...”

"Ew, what the fuck?" He reluctantly nods, though his grimace is still evident. "I mean, yeah, but gross.”

"Okay, fine, whatever, I'll make this quick. Have you talked to him?”

“Choso?”

You nod.

“Uh yeah, I talk to his dumbass all the time.”

You sigh. "I mean recently, like last night or today?…”

Sukuna quickly shrugs before leaning against his door frame, tilting his head to the side as he asks, “Why?”

“I’m like…” You look away and mumble disappointedly, “...pretty sure he’s ignoring me.”

“Bro what?” Sukuna looks at you like you’ve grown two heads. “Choso ignoring you?” He snickers. “You sound fucking crazy.”

"Dude, I'm serious!” You snap, returning your gaze to him. “Watch, call him.”

Sukuna, unmoving, quirks an eyebrow up at you skeptically.

“Just do it, Sukuna.”

“Fine.” He lazily pushes himself up right and pulls out his phone. He dials Choso, and within seconds, Choso answers. "Yo, uh, I just wanted to see if you were alive." Sukuna shakes his head at his own horrible improv skills. "And I can tell you are, so I'm gonna hang up now. Ok. Bye.” Sukuna pockets his phone and stares at you blankly. "Ok, now what?"

Your jaw is dropped, and Sukuna is tempted to reach out and shut it for you. “He fucking answered you?!”

“Is he not answering you?”

“No! Why do you think I'm here telling you he’s ignoring me?” You quickly pull out your phone and call Choso. “Watch.” 

The two of you watch how the line almost immediately goes dead, and Sukuna holds a fist to his mouth to stifle his laughter (though it doesn't do much). "Bro, what did you do?”

"I didn't do anything!” You trail off unsure, "I mean, I don't think I did anything?”

“When's the last time you saw him?”

“Last night.”

“Ew,” he says, a grimace on his face as he shakes his head. "Okay, uh, what was it like before you left?”

“Fine?” You pause for a moment. "I mean, usually I stay the night, but I had to leave because I had a date today.”

“You what.”

"I had a date today."

Sukuna stares at you with narrowed eyes, hesitant. “Did you tell Choso that?”

“Um... Yeah?”

"Y/n, are you a fucking idiot?” He asks earnestly, like he genuinely wonders if you’re actually this stupid and is slightly concerned for your wellbeing.

You stare at him blankly.

Truly not a thought behind your eyes, he thinks.

“Huh?”

“Oh my god.” He begins to explain slowly, enuanciating each and every syllable as if talking to a child. “You tell Choso you’re going on a date, and then suddenly he’s ignoring you, and you have no idea why?”

“Thanks for the recap, Sukuna." You roll your eyes and cross your arms defensively. "What's your fucking point?”

“My point?” Sukuna shuts his eyes closed and rubs his temples, already feeling a headache coming on. “You know he's in love with you, right?”

"That's not funny, Sukuna,” you say, your jaw clenched tight.

Sukuna’s hands fall to his sides, and he leans back against the door frame, rolling his eyes before glaring at you, his head tilted tauntingly to the side. "No, it's not, especially when you're such a fucking idiot.”

“Stop fucking around, Sukuna.”

Sukuna stands straight up again, only to lean forward, his face inches away from yours as he studies it. "Do you seriously think I'm lying?”

“Obviously you are!” You exclaim as you push him back into place.

"Y/n, that dumbass is head over heels for you.”

“You don't know that!”

“Anyone with eyes knows that!” he sighs. “And besides, he’s literally told you he loved you once.”

"Huh?" You blink a few times, trying to remember if he had. "No, he hasn't?"

"Yes, he has.”

"I'm pretty sure I'd remember that, Sukuna.”

"Unless you were—“ Sukuna grimaces as he finishes his sentence,”—too fucked out to remember or hear him.”

Your mouth falls in shock. “He said it during sex?!”

"Man, I don't fucking know,” Sukuna says, his grimace growing deeper. "I didn't ask for the details; I hung up on him. What the fuck?”

“Oh my god, I'm an idiot,” you mumble to yourself.

Sukuna knows you weren’t talking to him, but he still answers anyway. “I know.”

“Fuck.” You take a deep breath and seem to come to a conclusion almost immediately. "Okay, this was very insightful. Thank you. I'm gonna go to his house now.”

"Dude, don't go unless you like him back.” He frowns slightly, and you and him both aren’t sure if it’s actually for Choso or just for the sake of acting nice. “Just give him space.”

“Of course I like him back!” you stress. "I only went on that date to make him jealous in the first place."

In an instant, Sukunas' face falls flat. "I'm not even going to say anything. Fuck you, get off my porch.”

and the next thing you know, he’s slamming his door in your face.

☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆⋆。𖦹°‧★⋆。𖦹°‧☆

It doesn’t take long until you’re at Choso’s front door. In all honesty, you ran here. It’s not like Choso’s is very far from Sukuna’s in the first place, but you’d rather not waste any more time; you’ve wasted enough as it is. You knock softly at first, but when that doesn't seem to work, you full-send it and start banging on his door.

“Choso, open the fucking door and come talk to me!”

He doesn’t.

but you do hear him grumble from inside, “Go away, Y/n.”

“Stop acting like a child!”

That seems to do the trick, considering he flings the door open so fast it gives you whiplash. He stands in the doorway, shirtless, looking as disheveled as ever. You can’t help but stare at the way he makes looking messy like art. like every detail, from his frizzy, sticking-up hair down to the bags under his eyes, is purposeful. You don’t know how long you stand there just ogling at him, but you know it’s long enough for him to notice and call you out on it.

"Did you come here just to eye-fuck me or..."

"Right, uhm," you say, clearing your throat. “You were ignoring me.”

“Dunno what you're talking about," he shrugs curtly, looking away.

“Choso.”

“What?” he asks, turning his attention back to you with narrowed eyes, like he’s challenging you.

You narrow your eyes right back, your voice even as you speak, “You answered Sukuna but ignored me."

“Don't recall.”

You genuinely have no idea how he can stand here and lie straight to your face while looking you dead in the eyes. Does the man have no shame? (The answer is no, but you already knew that.)

“Are you serious?” You gawk before shaking your head; this is not worth it. “You know what? I'm not here to argue with you.”

This catches his attention, and as he stands up straighter, you can make out the slightest of glints in his eyes. “Then what are you here to do?”

"I love you.” After a moment, you add, “Too.”

Choso stands there, star-struck, his eyes as wide as saucers, and although you can't hear him breathing over the hammering of your own heart, you can see just how his chest heaves. You shift uneasily in place, his gaze piercing, and under different circumstances, you usually adore having his eyes on you with the way they make you feel like you're the only thing in his universe, but right now? Right now, it only serves to make you alarmingly aware of how you just laid out your heart to him, and he hasn't said a word.

"Choso, did you hear me?”

"Am I asleep?”

Despite your better judgment and jelly-like legs, you take a step forward and wrap your arms around his neck, answering with a small, breathy laugh. "No, Choso, you're not.”

You watch mesmerized at how his adam's apple bobs as he swallows harshly and mutters, "I'm not..."

“Nope.”

“And you love me?”

“Always have.” You look down and notice how languid Choso is in your hold, his hands at his sides rather than on you, and that just won't do. Choso does not keep his hands to himself, especially not around you. You make quick work of untangling your arms from his neck and grabbing his hands, placing them on your hips before returning your arms to their original state as you speak lowly, "I went on that date to make you jealous. I thought it didn't work."

Bringing up the date was apparently all it took to break Choso out of his trance; all of a sudden, his hands are exploring up from your hips to your waist, softly squeezing and pulling at the flesh as if making sure you’re really there—that he really isn’t asleep and having the same dream that he’s had for forever now.

“It worked a little too well, Y/n,” he says, chuckling.

"Yeah, I guess it did, didn't it?"

"Wait, how do you even know that I love you?” His face scrunches up in confusion. “I didn't-“

You cut him off with an awkward laugh. “Sukuna gave you up and called me an idiot for not seeing it before…”

"Well..." he half-shrugs innocently. “He’s kinda right.”

You roll your eyes. "Haha, you're so funny.” You clear your throat before subtly glancing to the side and over your shoulder, mumbling,

"Can you let me in now, though? Cause I'm pretty sure there's people staring at us…” 

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[devildom-moss]

Flowers for Them (Satan)

Continuation of a request where MC returns the favor for the characters giving them roses. Kind of a sequel series for the Roses for You series (links here)

Satan x gn!MC

(the smallest drop of angst)

Word Count: +1,100

Blue anemone

Satan flipped through the book he had tried to secretly purchase the last time you went to a used bookstore together. It was a tragic romance novel about a human and demon – and not just any demon, but a high ranking, intelligent demon man. His reason for wanting to hide his selection was clear; he would be mortified if you found out that he was reading a story so similar to his situation with you. It was as close as he could bring himself to reading self-insert fanfic of you.

Although, if he was willing to search the depths of the internet, Satan would have found ship fiction about the two of you, written under pseudonyms by fans. Some demon would see a post on Devilgram including you and Satan or see you two walking around and inevitably decide your relationship was worthy of a 13-chapter, hurt/comfort romance, with 2 chapters of rough and dirty smut that would make even an incubus blush. That fic would get posted somewhere on AD3 (Archive de Devildom Demons) or Devilfiction.net or Hellpad – or if they’re truly sad, on Burnr. But Satan was blissfully unaware, so he curled up in his chair with his shameful indulgence.

Unfortunately for Satan, you had seen him sneak the book into the bottom of the pile before checking out. Curious, you did a bit of investigating using the title on the spine and quickly realized why Satan was so keen on hiding it from you. It was cute, in a way, and you wanted to reward that cuteness.

When Satan first opened the book, he felt a faint trace of magic. Seeing as the book was used, that didn’t seem too odd. Besides, whatever magic tainted this book seemed benign, so he ignored it and kept reading.

Satan gripped the book tightly in his hands. The chapter had ended with the human character finding the demon among ruins – remains of a city he had destroyed on a rampage after the duke residing there had suddenly declared war on humans. Would the human reject his violence or embrace him in his monstrous, destructive glory? Satan could feel the tension building up, and he was so excited that he couldn’t sense the magic in the book getting stronger as he turned to the next page.

As soon as he did, a blue anemone sprouted from the center of the book. Satan was startled, but upon closer examination, other than being a human realm flower, nothing else seemed off with the anemone. He set it aside and continued to read the chapter.

The human took in the devastating wreckage around the demon. Homes, shops, and even infrastructure had been demolished as if by an unholy earthquake. It was a tragedy. They imagined all the lives and happiness destroyed. Satan turned the page. Another anemone popped up.

Satan set it down with the other one and kept reading. Right at the center of the town square was a fountain which was once a glistening display of water that sparkled under the starlight. Now, the duke’s head was floating in the upper tier as water that ran red sprouted up next to him and came spilling onto his face – as if to waterboard what visibly remained of his corpse with his own blood. The demon called out to the human, using their name in a meek, pitiful voice. Their eyes met, and Satan turned the page.

Another fucking anemone? Satan put it next to the others with a low growl and read on. The human approached, and the demon fell to his knees on the verge of tears, searching for any sign of affection. He found it. The human caressed his cheek and dropped down to their knees right before him with no regard for the rubble underfoot that pressed into them uncomfortably. The demon tried to explain, only to be met with warm lips against his. Hoping to see them deepen their bond, Satan flipped to the next page eagerly.

“Motherfucker!” A fourth anemone grew up from the book. It was a small inconvenience, but Satan was annoyed. Things were getting good, but he stopped reading and began to simply flip through the pages. A blue anemone continued to appear each time until Satan had enough for a bouquet of two dozen. Then, they stopped. Instead of a flower, a cat-shaped note appeared. Satan was about to throw it away when he recognized your handwriting.

All his irritation and anger began to melt. The note said, “close your eyes.” Satan obeyed.

His obedience was rewarded with the soft sensation of your lips against his. Only you had the power to change Satan’s mood with such ease. He smiled into the kiss, suddenly delighted with your little prank that had been an annoyance just a minute ago. No one had ever given him flowers before – and certainly not human world flowers. When you pulled away, Satan bit his lip to prevent himself from pouting and whining. You could have kissed me a little longer after all that, he thought. However, he had more pressing words to speak.

“Why blue anemones?” Satan stared at you expectantly.

“It can’t just be because they’re pretty?” you asked.

“It could be – if it was anyone else giving me flowers.” Satan smiled, knowing he was correct. “So, what did I do to deserve these?”

“Okay, smarty-pants, you caught me. One of the meanings of a blue anemone is intelligence. That one should speak for itself.” You paused to take his face in your hands. “They also symbolize mutual trust and loyalty, love and respect, and anticipation. They are a promise of a brighter future; in sadness, they bring a sense of calm and peace, lift spirits, protect, and guide.”

Satan’s heart ached sweetly, and he met your eyes with an abundance of affection that overflowed in gentle tears running down his cheeks. You wiped them with your thumbs and placed a soft, chaste kiss on his lips.

“Are you a blue anemone as well, then?” Satan asked, almost innocently. “Because nothing is a bigger source of peace in my life than you. You are my love, and my loyalty is to you. Only you could lift my spirits like this. Only you could protect and guide me in the ways I’ve always dreamed of. Your very existence is a promise of a brighter future – so long as it involves you. So, I’ll ask again: are you a blue anemone?”

“Hush,” you chuckled and proceeded to leave kisses all over his face until his cheeks were flushed pink and the tears had dried. “You’re cute.”

“You hush too!” Satan pulled you onto his lap and buried himself in the crook of your neck. “Don’t tease me, but don’t leave my side either.”

You played with Satan’s hair and kissed the top of his head. “You can read your tragic human-demon romance book – just remember, I have no intention of letting us be a tragedy.”

“Me either,” Satan whispered against your skin. The tears threatened to spill from his eyes again, but he was too soothed by your touch to cry anymore.

Lucifer | Mammon | Leviathan | Asmodeus | Beelzebub | Belphegor | the others

(If there's no link, that character is coming soon-ish)

[anders-chr]

“Good for you.” (EDITED!)

A short little excerpt I wrote for The Winter Soldier, or a moment I think could’ve happened in the movie he was first introduced.

— warnings: manipulation, brainwashing, panic attacks. if any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t click on this!

The chair was cold. It always was. It bit into his back like steel fangs, locking him into place as the harsh, sterile light illuminated his face. His breaths were shallow, uneven. The edges of his vision blurred with pain, but the memory was there—faint, fleeting, like smoke slipping through his fingers.

A face. Blonde hair. A shield. Steve.

Bucky—no, The Winter Soldier, he corrected himself—stared at the floor as Dreykov’s polished shoes clicked against the concrete. The sound was sharp, purposeful. It filled the suffocating silence between his labored breaths. His hands were right behind his back, face devoid of warmth completely.

“Good. You’re awake,” Dreykov said, his tone crisp and clinical. “Do you remember you place?” Not even a moment after, he’s already telling the scientists to prep him. Wipe. To get him ready for the pain, the electricity, the loss of a conscious.

That was the cruelty of those above you. Do you remember your place? For a second, the soldier didn’t respond. He knew the answer they wanted: I am the Winter Soldier. I am also called The Asset. I have no place outside of a mission.

He blinked against the haze in his mind, searching for something, anything, to anchor himself. That name, it sounded like nickname. The tone. But, it could be an actual name. The Winter Soldier would take it gladly, opposed to the title he has been given. But, he hasn’t known anything else. Taking that name, not knowing what it’s associated with — it’s scary. And it had to show on his face because the soldier felt the atmosphere shift and saw the cruel eyes of everyone around him sharpen like hawks.

“Did you hear me?” Dreykov asks again, taking a step closer. His voice harsher. “You are The Winter Soldier. Your place is nothing else but that. Do you understand?”

The Asset lifted his head, his jaw tight. His voice was hoarse from misuse, but that was the least of his problems and it came out low and raspy. “What if I don’t want that place?” He asked, genuinely. Like a kid asking a parent why they have to clean. “What if…I’m just me?”

Dreykov’s eyes glinted with amusement but his expression remained stern and cold as ice. He tilted his head slightly. “Just you? A man doesn’t have more than 50 kills on his head. But,” The Russian general began, “A soldier knows their mission, and they complete it. A soldier can kill in a war. If someone’s in your way, you crush them. Leave them to die. That is your place, your duty.”

The Winter Soldier’s eyes darkened. His voice dropped, laced with a bitter edge. “Well, I guess if I hesitate more, I won’t be of use. What’s stopping you from crushing me too? Go ahead.” He leaned forward as much as the restraints would allow, his gaze piercing through Dreykov like a blade. “I really wouldn’t mind.”

For a moment, there was complete silence and The Asset registered what he just did. The expression on Dreykov’s face didn’t falter, but the hands behind his back tightened ever so slightly. His gaze turned to steel, and for a moment, a small part of The Winter’s Soldier was worried Dreykov might hit him. He could take it. It probably wouldn’t hurt that much. He’s been shocked, stabbed, shot, waterboarded, and learned quickly people can do far worst things than hurt you physically. It didn’t stop that irrational fear though.

But then he let out a long, exaggerated sigh. “Fine.” Dreykov said, signaling to scientists to with a wave of his hand. “Release him.”

The Asset blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift. The scientist hesitated but obeyed nonetheless. The restraints hissed as they unlocked, the weight lifting from The Winter Soldier’s wrists and arms. He didn’t move immediately, warily looking at the restraints come unloose like a caveman who discovered fire. With equal fascination and fear.

“I’ll shut my mouth. I’ll stop protecting you and I’ll let you go,” Dreykov continued, his voice filled with mock benevolence. “Is that good enough for you? Would that be good for you?”

Before the soldier could respond, Dreykov’s hand shot out, gripping The Asset’s chin with cruel precision, forcing him to meet his gaze. The Winter Soldier’s fists clenched, the knuckles of his human arm whitening, but he didn’t move. Couldn’t move.

"I’ll personally deliver you to your precious Captain America." Dreykov glare was dark and cutting as he sneered. "Do you honestly believe he cares for you? The courts, the government—they would tear you to shreds.“

The Asset barely flinched, but the Russian general could see that flicker of fear in his eyes at that possibility. His jaw clenching, and both firsts that trembled so subtly.

He released The Winter Soldier’s chin with a shove, his movements growing more aggressive as he took a step back and spread his arms in mock generosity. "Would that please you, soldier? Because anything The Winter Soldier wants." He offered a mock bow, his tone dripping with disdain and sarcasm.

The soldier’s head began to spin, each word sinking deeper and deeper. They were letting him leave. Dreykov was nowhere near the door, he could just walk out. Without his restraints, he could tear this entire building apart if he wanted. Burn it all to hell, never look back.

But what if — what if they were right? If he left, what then? Who does he have to turn to? Was he just a weapon — an extension of Hydra, incapable of surviving without them? It wasn’t an order he was given, it was a choice. An open door, unarmed guards and a promise of freedom. And that scared The Asset more than anything.

The scientists and the guards voices joined, adding their own comments, agreeing with each other.

“He wouldn’t last a day out there. Does he even know how to function without orders?”

“Who would take you in? The Avengers? They’d see you as a monster, nothing more.”

“No one will love you like we have. No one will put up with your mistakes like we have. You’re a lot of work, you know.”

“You’re clumsy and impulsive. You can’t even get through a mission without guidance. Out there, on your own? You’d never survive.”

“We gave you purposely and stability? Who else would do that? Who else even wants to?”

They’re right. As much as he hated to say, they were right. Who else could care about him? Who else would? He was too much work, he couldn’t even do the simplest task of killing two Avengers. What was he, if not The Winter Soldier? The Asset? At least his work is appreciated here, at least he gets a “well done, soldier.” when someone’s blood is on his hands? Shouldn’t that be enough? Everything grew louder, like an unrelenting storm.

“You’re nothing without us.”

“He’s weak and dependent.”

“You’ll never be anything more than a soldier.”

“All you know is how to destroy.”

“I give him three days. Tops.”

Dreykov leaned over into his space, hands resting on the armrests of the chair. His eyes bore into him behind those glasses, as he said “You don’t have a place in the world. Even if you ever did, you’d never be able to go back.”

The weight of their voices pressed down on him, each word cutting deeper, each accusation twisting like a knife. The Asset’s breaths quickened, his chest heaving as the walls seemed to close in around him. Tears brimmed in his eyes, his throat seemed to close up as everything seemed louder and louder.

No one could care. No one would care.

The faces of his targets flashed before his eyes—so many lives, so much blood on his hands. And then, one face. Blue eyes, soft and full of something he couldn’t name. Bucky. That’s what the man had called him. Was that who he used to be? Was that even real? What if there was nothing for him out there? What if this was all he was?

He shook his head violently, trying to drown out the noise, the memories, the doubts. “STOP!” he screamed, his voice raw, breaking. His head dropped, his shoulders shaking. "Just — just wipe me already.”

The room fell silent for a moment, the echo of his plea hanging in the air. A cruel smile came across Dreykov’s face, faint and triumphant. He signaled to the scientists, who hurried to restrain Bucky again.

As the chair’s restraints locked into place once more — two on his human arm, one of the bionic one, the familiar hiss of machinery filled the room. The Winter Soldier slumped, his energy drained, his spirit crushed. He opened his mouth to receive the mouth guard, the familiar taste of rubber and plastic sickeningly seemed comforting.

Maybe this time, he thought, they’d erase everything. Maybe this time, he wouldn’t remember. Maybe this time, he’d finally be the Winter Soldier they wanted.

“You’ll understand this very soon.” Dreykov said, and the pain started, the screams were ripped out of his throat before he could stop them but it felt familiar. It had to be better, compared to whatever could happen out there. It’s too late to go back, he knows that. So why even bother?

And mercifully, when it felt like he wasn’t being eaten by electricity anymore — it all went to black.

—

I was listening to “Good For You” in the Dear Evan Hansan musical while I wrote this. I may be too sad, but hey, I love any opportunity to write manipulation and project on a character. Anyways, if you want more of this content, just lemme know!

— andy.

[raileurta]

Miguel acting like gen z part 4

*a tentacle monster is destroying a city*

Miguel: Hear me out.

Peter softly: No. Just no.

Hobie: Wait let the man explain himself.

Miles & Peter: NO!

--------------------------------------------------

Gwen: So this guy, I'm not pulling your leg, turns himself into a dragon made out of trash.

Miguel: Low-key gender envy.

Gwen: 😐

Miguel: .......

Gwen: .......

Gwen: Idk why I even expected anything different.

--------------------------------------------------

Miguel: Peter do you have a pet car?

Peter: Yes?????

Miguel: What are you supposed to do when it's 4:00am and they are vooming across your house breaking stuff?

Peter: The fuck kind of car do you have?!

*It took them 20 minutes of arguing to figure out the miscommunication*

--------------------------------------------------

*on a stakeout outside a Panera*

Miguel: Yo do you think if I slip the cashier a $20 they'll waterboard me with their murder lemonade?

Peter: Do I want to even know the context behind that?

Miguel: Nope.

--------------------------------------------------

[miasma-museum]

Spitfire had been avoiding Miasma. The hushed gossip surrounding Miasma got to him eventually. Spitfire had locked himself in his room and tried to kill anyone who'd attempted to open the door. Spitfire wasn't particularly liked by many Siblings of Sin in the first place but it's to note that everyone else somewhat liked the multi ghoul. Sure he was a bit weird and disturbing at some points but thats what they all are.

Miasma hadn't thought about what he called the Lake Incident. Spitfire had lived sure and the brain eating amoeba's didn't kill him, but it did piss off Spitfire. Usually Spitfire's anger wasn't directed towards anyone, so that was new. But the questions that he asked did make Miasma wonder if Spitfire was telling the truth. If he didn't know that they antipsychotic's weren't going to help but rather hurt. He waited until the darkest hour and snuck into Spitfire's room, the problem? Spitfire was wide fucking awake.

Four more days. Four more days did Miasma have to hold out. Sure, Primo would still be holding on to his leash, but it was significantly less eyes, especially when it was someone that Miasma was in little interest of, and vice versa.

And Miasma was beginning to fail.

After what he had done, maybe the day after, he sat in his room and wrote. Always a man with a plan, Miasma wrote tens of lists, schedules, routines, ideas... His heart pounding with anxiety all the while. It seemed Copia hadn't found out about his returning episode... If he did, he'd be dead right now. He had Spitfire to thank for that...

But it was strange. He did not necessarily try to murder Spitfire; he wanted to play with him. He wanted to stay and watch the ghoul thrash, but he did not want to get caught. So he left it to his imagination upon returning to his window, staring at the wall for hours. Imagining the waterboarding sensation that Spitfire had felt, the panic of not being able to move all that well, the knowledge of the parasites. He knew Spitfire somehow survived, which also peeked his interest. Perhaps the amoebas were not as deadly to ghouls as he thought they would be. But, still, Spitfire didn't talk. There was not much Miasma couldn't get away with. He both hated and loved that feeling.

He set his notebook down, standing from his bed and pulling a sweater over himself. He stepped out of his room, but not before grabbing his bladed crucifix, making his way towards Spitfire's room. He did not really know why he was doing this. Curiosity, probably.

He slowly pushed open the door, expecting the ghoul to be sound asleep at this time of night, freezing as he spotted eyes staring back at him.

"I do not want to talk to you. Lay down and shut up or I will make sure you drown this time." Miasma hissed after a moment of silence, entering the room and flicking on the light as if nothing had happened prior. He began rummaging. Searching for something.

[disventure-rewrite-takes]

okay, I just finished watching the finale, so here are all my thoughts plus little rewrites. also Trevor is officially transfem in my brain so she's Tatyana now, idk I don't make the rules.

Tomjake: I dunno I still don't like the ship nearly as much as I did when i first watched dvsc, I think it's got far too much screen time and precedence over the series. but it does make sense for their spinoff, and honestly, their closing arc wasn't terrible. as always, found it overly rushed, but with the emotions I guess it could make sense...idk if anything I'd just slowburn that shit. make it worth watching!!

Tom (Himself): I'm sorry but when the hell did he get WATERBOARDED? this show I swear to god...that isn't slapstick comedy ONC 😭💀 that's some serious shit why hasn't it come up at ALL?! like come on!! I would give Tom some discomfort around water, and at least a small discussion about it, ffs

Ally: idk if this is a rewrite but "you can have your yaoi moment later" is on par with "thank you I'm going there" and I love it. she needs more one liners

Gabellie: RAAAAHHH let's go lesbians!! sad Gabby got bit by the tiger but the screen time they get is everything to me, they needed more of this and I would so add that if I could

Tatyana and Emily: as always I love her, she's so silly to me and very dear to my heart. I love that she's still kind to Emily but also calls her out on her shit. kinda building on what I've talked about with Emily but I'd love to have Tatyana be her voice of reason when she's living in this revenge and rage filled part of her mind. in a rewrite I think I would definitely have Tatyana talk Emily down before the scorpions so she isn't hurt, and Tatyana quits, Emily doesn't go to prison, Emilyana is endgame and I'm happy <3

Riya: not pleased she won, I doubt most people are. but unfortunately it's probably the most satisfying end to her arc. I like that even Krystal isn't happy with her winning, and Connor finally is done with her. the only thing I'd change is that Eesha doesn't call her, so she really has no one except her fame.

Alec and Fiore: AAAAA I love them so much, Fiore caring about him, Alec finally adopting her, the bus scene and him carrying her, this is literally my lifeblood and my soul rn. I wouldn't change a damn thing, it's amazing <333

Krystal/Other Staff: I love the way her arc ends with deciding to change the way she's gonna do things, quitting DSVC and letting in new hosts. another very satisfying end for me honestly. if I had anything to nitpick, for the scene on the plane, I'd put her in the dress she's wearing in the S2 finale, just because it's pretty and I think it helps her come full circle as a character, plus it suits the trip to Cancun!

The End Photos: I also love that, love seeing Lill and Nick a bit, all the cute little end story pieces for the characters. I'd just add more honestly, I love the idea!!

y'all should see the notes I took while watching this finale honestly, I was going feral– I kept screeching and talking out loud 💀

- 🎃

love all your thoughts pumpkin anon, emilyana is real to us and we all love fiore and alec. also ur not alone in screeching and talking to yourself cuz i genuinely had to repress a scream at all those fiore & alec scenes. i love you grumpy middle aged man adopting a quirky little girl trope

[sholb]

it's about how shiv is always framed as a villain at first glance, it's about how rebrov tells george that shiv waterboards suspects and how george assumes it's shiv who hit rebrov and shiv only denies it once to no avail because maybe shiv wants to be the guy who tortures suspects because "if you work here you cannot make a fucking mistake" because maybe if he was that guy maybe he would have gotten the intel that would have saved janet's son. and it's about how shiv chases rebrov down and when rebrov says "all you had to do was shoot the right man" we see shiv fire a shot at his back and the audience is left to assume that shiv killed him—except shiv is driving rebrov to the hospital and he's giving janet an hour until he comes for her and how this mercy is not enough because "you owe us, shiv" and yet they both escape and that's shiv's fault too. it's how shiv's cousin asks him suspiciously why he came to their family's shop in the middle of the night and it's shiv's response "i'm here to save you" and how the police probably ended up arresting his cousin instead. it's how this action of altruism gets him recruited to the project that can only serve the greater good by erasing millions of people and it's this excruciating empathy that endures inside him that makes him try to save george from himself without telling anyone and it's what gets him shot and burned from everything he knows and it's what dooms him every time on a loop

[arachnxphobe]

random miguel hcs

will not admit it but he has cried to multiple animated kids movies

definitely the classics like toy story 3, the iron giant, and inside out

but he also BAWLED at the end of finding nemo because he was thinking about gabriella

he thinks that toothless from how to train your dragon is cute

no i will not elaborate on that

secretly celebrates st patrick’s day

likes to wear something green under his suit or have one piece of decor hidden in the depths of his office

has really low spice tolerance BUT really likes it and also he has a reputation to keep up as the big and tough guy so he WILL try and hide how much water he is chugging

he likes the dad ice cream flavours like pistachio and rum raisin

but hates dad hobbies like golfing or collecting stuff like antique coins or dioramas

he just doesn’t have the patience for it

can cook and bake!!!! actually scratch that he can do all of the chores and is basically a househusband but is simply unwilling to do it

peter b may or may not have gotten him a kiss the cook apron that may or may not be the only apron he owns…

he could 100% have gourmet meals every day but he doesn’t have anyone to impress but himself so most days he just lives off of the sealed, pre-cooked chicken breasts from the convenience store and reheated rice that he makes in a big batch once a week

because yes chicken can be store bought but microwaved rice tastes too much like chemicals, especially for his heightened taste buds

is a shower guy

he thinks that baths are too inefficient and most tubs can’t fit him

but if you somehow manage to find one that’s big enough…oh boy he’ll act like you are waterboarding him but honestly he’s having the time of his life

competitive as hell, even when he acts like he could not care less

like he does not understand the concept of letting somebody else win, why is he handicapping himself and letting them think they’re better than they actually are?

he doesn’t mean it in a way to establish dominance or superiority

he just thinks that it’s weird to let someone win because wouldn’t lying to them be worse? now they can’t even improve

designed his own suit and probably gets a little bit self conscious when someone comments on it because he really isn’t an aesthetics guy but he worked really hard and is proud of his suit 🥺

was perhaps a little bit salty about the dark garfield comment but you didn’t hear that from me

please never trust him with naming or decorating though because if left on his own, it’s either going to be the most disgusting combination of items ever known to man or quite literally the bare minimum

don’t even think about a bed frame, there’s a chance that he doesn’t even have a mattress

he’s good with personal hygiene though

a slight germaphobe in the sense that he wants everything to be sterile (a habit he picked up from always being in the lab) but is more than okay with getting his hands dirty, just as long as he can thoroughly sanitize them afterwards

a terrible movie watcher

he either does not understand the movie whatsoever and keeps on asking questions that they just answered a minute ago

or he’s ripping them apart for their weird pseudoscience

honestly his ranting ends up being more entertaining than the movie at times

be prepared for a full lecture if you don’t stop him at some point though

i’ve heard a lot of people throw out spanish songs that they think he would listen to but might i suggest some non-spanish songs

he gives me doja cat vibes, don’t ask me, i just feel it

personally, i don’t think he would actively listen to kpop or be into the fan culture but he probably enjoys some songs without even realizing they’re kpop

i’m thinking newjeans and maybe epik high??

ABBA

mitski and hozier (where are my depressed wlw at) because you know that when he’s in his brooding self hating mood that he needs suitable bgm

HATES cruises

something about being on water does not vibe with his spider-catness

neither does the overall cruise ship experience

hot tubs and buffets just don’t really do it for him

there’s not much space for privacy except for your own room but even then the walls are fairly thin

so it’d be nearly impossible for him to get any sort of peace

me and the rest of the internet all seem to have agreed that he has insomnia and i feel like a cruise ship would not help whatsoever

would complain about how the mexican food is just what americans think mexican food is like

is too much of a workaholic to take an extended break, and it’s too difficult to jump back into work should there be an emergency

[dollivication]

kitty hybrid dmc3 dante ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

to me hes like one of those hybrids that can AKSHUALLY turn into a whole ass cat. as a stray he js stays as a cat bc its a lil easier— if u ignore the regular ass cats trying to pick up fights w him for existing near them that is (ᵕ—ᴗ—)

one day u pick him up bc cute cat!!1! cute lil cat needs a home<333 u js let the cat sleeping on the couch n go to sleep bc whats the worst thing that can happen?:3

thats what u think till u go to the kitchen in the middle of the night n find a grown ass man butt booty naked stealing food from the kitchen without a care in the world. the grown ass man butt booty naked also has.. a tail..? and ears..?

hes confused— why r u screaming is it bc hes too attractive ?? u brought him home in the first place why the screaming ?? hes quite literally the cat ?? why r u complaining abt him being naked ?? his body is a whole masterpiece wdym put some clothes on ??

u end up adapting to him (yes, adapting to him not the other way around) and damn.. hes an absolute MENACE. hes lazy as fawk,, hes also crazily needy like u doing something ? well now u arent bc hes throwing himself at u demanding for cuddles and if u refuse… omfg he gets so annoying.. starts whimpering whining hitting u with his tail scratching Whatever ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)  he sometimes turns into his cat form js to cause ruckus too and its like,,, girl be calm

to me he doesnt rlly like clothing— like he refuses to wear clothes inside the house he mayyyy wear his stupid red coat but thats IT. hes js wandering around the house w his dingaling out and he does nawt give a shit,,, and oh my gawd dont get me started on this heat seasons,,, hes js a shameless slut ૮꒰◞ ˕ ◟ ྀི꒱ა

— 🍓

JREKAHSJEMRGS!!!!! DITTY KANTE!!!! KITTY DANTE!! IM SO PASSIONATE ABOUT THIS

i feel laik he’d probably wait for a bit until actualy going human mode,, because omg… his owner is such a cutie patootie! he wants to make the most out of getting pet by yew, it feels so nice!!! literawy a kitty by day, a tall ass freak by night it’s literally fiona’s curse from shrek LMFAOOAOAOA

he’s an Actual FIEND!!‼️🔥‼️ he does NAWT understand human customs (wearing clothes) methinks.. only occasionally wears the red coat because he thinks it’s flashy >:3 otherwise,,, yu kind of have tew uhmnhg force him… to put on clothes… because he’s not above going outside double cheeked awp…,,, he looks good naked don’t you think ??(NO!)

HEAVY ON THE NEEDINESS AND NOISINESS!! dante does not CARE about boundaries.. will cling onto yew both in kitty form and human form—likegetoffyouretooheavytobedoinallat HELPMWEFH will repeat ur name like a broken record 4 yu to feed him.. and there’s laik never a point where he’s NOT purring… laik SHUT!!! FUCK UP!!!

i hope you laik cleaning up cat hair, bc his tail wil leave yewr clothes covered in white hairs… and he does this DELIBERATELY piece of shi… LOOOOVES kneading and nuzzling yew too!! especially ur chest and tummy! :3

kitty dante jorks it in front of yew when he’s in heat… literally always arching his back and bucking his hips like PUT THAT ZOOOWWWN!!!! he’s such a hornball i fear…

iwant to waterboard him,,;:.🩷

[snobgoblin]

that final was stressful so I'm just gonna take this ask thing I found on Google and answer them all under the cut

1. Do they sleep with a stuffed animal? If they have multiple, who's the favorite?

he has extreme nesting tendencies and has many many pillows and stuffed animals upstairs. he doesnt have a particular favorite per se it's more "which one does he gravitate toward tonight". among his favorites are a fox, owl, raven, bear, cat, and a dog

2. Can they take care of a plant? What about a pet? What about a child?

oh he's great with plants and he's always wanted a pet but he could never find one that really clicked with him. he's an animal lover for sure but whether they love him back all the time is debatable. he has trouble forming connections sometimes. as for a kid he has no idea because he's never met a kid. something about a plague... he's awkward around them anyway. he's awkward around everyone

3. Ask them to describe their love interest.

oh that really depends on the love interest. I'm gonna have to answer this six times? ok

🔮 Asra- perfect

☕️Nadia- perfect

🪶Julian- perfect

🥚Muriel- perfect

🌟Portia- perfect

🫀Lucio- asshole but I love him anyway

LMAO I know I said I wanted to yap but I don't wanna yap all that much. I'll come back to this lore in depth when I'm not exhausted

4. Do they look good in red?

absolutely.

5. Speech! Speech! Speech! Speech! Will they give one, and what about?

if heavily intoxicated, he will give a weepy speech about how much he loves his friends and how grateful he is to them

6. Who will they take advice from, no matter what it is? Who won't they take advice from, no matter what it is?

he'll always listen to Asra. at least at first. maybe to a harmful degree, he is a suspect in the murder after all and it's hard not to let his biases get in the way. but he does trust Asra ultimately. as for who he absolutely will not take advice from...... Lucio for obvious reasons

7. Describe them in three words. Now let them describe themself in three words.

>mysterious, intelligent, desperate

>weird, inadequate, fashionable

8. Do complex puzzles intrigue or frustrate them?

oh he's not as into them as Nadia but he does love a gold puzzle. specifically a social puzzle though. that's why he likes investigating so much. he's great at making connections

9. Do they empathize with non-sentient things (dolls, plants, books...)?

oh way too much. this man will kiss a tree to apologize for accidentally getting his cloak caught on a branch

10. What age do they most want to be right now?

he wants to be an old man already so he doesn't have to worry about the future anymore

11. They've won the lottery. Spend, or save?

oh he blows it immediately. on his friends and on himself

12. Do they like romance in the books they read (or in the book they're in)?

oh he's a hopeless romantic. you couldn't waterboard this out of him but he does enjoy a good cheesy romance novel

[arwenkenobi48]

My thoughts after seeing Ramayana: The Legend of Prince Rama

Rama and Lakshman are the best brothers ever (also Rama literally killed multiple demons with divine weapons as a teenager and that’s honestly more than I accomplished at 15)

Sita has Disney Princess powers

“I will cleave your filthy brain in two!” is not a line I expected to hear from a PG rated movie

Bharata is underrated

Surpanakha needs therapy (and a nose job)

Why is Maricha kinda- 😏

Ravana seriously needs to keep it in his pants (I was mentally shaking his shoulders and yelling “when will you learn that your actions have consequences!?” at him the entire time)

Rama furiously declaring he’ll hunt Ravana to the ends of the universe and then Lakshman just casually telling him to calm down was way funnier than it had any right to be

RIP Jatayu

The sentient mountain turning out to be a demigod literally felt like an NPC side quest in a fantasy RPG

Hanuman is the GOAT

I love how Jambavan just randomly drops the bombshell on Hanuman that he has divine powers, also his voice is weirdly amusing

Hanuman gets swallowed by a sea serpent, then promptly chops the thing up into sushi

Ravana’s giving off vaguely yandere vibes and I’m all here for it

Hanuman introducing himself to Sita with a beautiful song legit warmed my heart so much, he’s so wholesome

Ravana filing his nails while listening to Hanuman’s speech only to be like “kill him” was darkly hilarious

“alright, but set fire to his tail first, then let him go home” Ravana WTH-

Then Hanuman subsequently commits arson and burns down half the city of Lanka (cue the theme from It’s Always Sunny In Philadelphia)

I have only known Vibhishana for a minute and a half but if anything happened to him I would kill everyone in this room and then myself /j

Bridge building montage woohooo

Why do all the rakshasas sound either animalistic or flamboyant?

Speaking of which, there’s no way Indrajit is straight, no man who wears indigo eyeshadow, a crop top, no trousers and knee high boots isn’t at least a little bit bent

“Oh, what a nuisance! This is bothering me!” Ah yes, just how I’d describe being in the middle of a battle between literal demons and very floofy monkeys

Rama’s speech about respecting life was genuinely one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever heard

Kumbhakarna is the best boi

Kumbhakarna is the best round sleepy boi in the history of everything

His sons were absolute badasses and their deaths made me sad (not at all helped by his heartbroken expression when he found out)

I love how it literally took being waterboarded to wake up this giant

Vibhishana just casually mentioning to Rama that Kumbhakarna would become immortal after sleeping for SIX WHOLE MONTHS

Literally everything about Kumbhakarna is immensely endearing to me in a way I cannot explain, I just wanna smoosh his cheeks and feed him strawberry mochi, also he so ROUND

Kumbhakarna, don’t eat the Vanaras ffs

Kumbhakarna getting increasingly frustrated by the flying demons buzzing around him like mosquitoes should become a meme/reaction gif, purely because of how he yells “yOu ArE aNnOyInG mE!” at them

*two strikes of a divine sword later* NUUUUU MY BABYYYYY 😭

“I wish I’d known him as a friend, Vibhishana” that’s it, happy AU where everybody lives and they’re all besties let’s gooooo *crying inside*

The way Ravana’s voice quakes when he hears he’s now sans a brother 🥺

Indrajit is horrible but I love him

HANUMAN JUST AIRLIFTED A FUCKING MOUNTAIN HOLY SMOKES-

Omgggg an aerial battle this is so cool- INDRAJIT NOOOOO

RAVANA WHERE DID YOU GET AN AEROPLANE???

Yikes, Ravana, you’re really laying on the body horror here 😳

Awww Rama and Sita are together again yayyyy

Yasssss happy ending we love to see it!

Why are they flying to the moon in a glittering gold helicopter???

Basically, I love this movie and everything about it, especially Kumbhakarna 💞

(Also for the record I mean absolutely no disrespect by any of this)