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blood-injections · 2 years ago

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I would love to hear some father figure Doctor D headcannons..

FATHER FIGURE DOCTOR D. YEAH HES YES OF COURSE

He is THE dad of the zones honestly, he literally adoped cherri, he basically adoped the fab four and later down the line vaya and vamos and the girl is like literally his grandchild not literally but as the fab four are his kids so shes his grandchild plus he's like been there since the start he probably knew her mother.

Anyway I've made a post about this bit before ! Show Pony is his biological nephew ! And they grew up visiting him and being a little helper around his radio station in LA and when they hot older, theyd spend their summers staying with him, and he was always a lot funner and when Pony was like ten and realized they felt genderweird. He was way more accepting than their lameass probably transphobic parents so Dr D's their cool uncle but really they see him more as their father figure, and Ponys staying with him one summer when theyre twelve and the helium wars start and stuff shuts down and eventually he has to fight, but he's officially taken in Pony since they cant get in contact with their parents and man, Ponys twelve and its war, they don't want to go back to their sucky parents anyway. And Dr D fucking loves that kid and always hated his stuck up brother, so he never complains.

In the wars he gets really close to another older man he fights beside, a partner, they never label anything but dr d kinda loves him, but things go wrong one day and he loses his legs and his friend all at once. His partner had a son, though, one a little older than pony, and it was just the two of them and so dr d promised his partner he'd look after his son, make sure he wasnt sent to one of the orphanages popping up with bad vibes

So he takes in that 14 year old boy, who will later be known as Agent Cherri Cola, and he loves that kid like his own, because if cherris father and him had both made it through to the end of that war cherri probably would have been his own, if he got to marry that man. Cherri misses his dad like hell but he loves dr d too, and with time sees him as a father and pony as a sibling, for his dad may have raised him but it was dr d and pony that he was with when the war ended and Battery City was erected and when they settled in the desert and watched the zones as we know them be born.

And then its Jet Star, after the zones have been the zones for a while, when cherri and pony are practically grown up, 17 and 20 respectively, Jet's a sand pup, old enough to remember the wars but barely the world before it, so the deserts his home, he grew up out there with his family, on a ranch, and his family then became his crew, who was then lost in a tragic firefight, and jet was alone, drifting the zones at sixteen, its pony that brings it to light, that knows jet and says a friends been drifting since they lot their crew, asks dr d if he can stay with them for a bit at he station. And well, dr d loves his kid, so he says yeah, who is he to deny a joy that needs help.

Jet lives with them for a year, and then moves on to find their own place when they arent so lost, arent grieving their family as hard, but the thing is dr d just has this affect on people, and jet sees him as a sort of father figure too, and he sees jet as another kid, especially when he watches them go stay in the diner, and then take in ghoul, whos just a little fukin kid, ran away from the city at eleven, and somehow survived, not to mention somehow made it all the way out to zone five on foot, and with a gun but hardly being able to shoot it. And jets just seventeen still but they take in ghoul at the diner and kinda teach him the way of the zones, and theyre always over at the station, and ghouls this little kid thats lost everything but hes a fucking spitfire, he reminds dr d of cherri when he first took him in, and of course he helps out jet with teaching him stuff, and ghouls young but hes crazy good at engineering and coding and electronics and stuff, since he grew up with androids and learned early how to help them out, do repairs, hes good at that shit and he fixes some of the old equipment around the station and like seriously, dr d just adopts any kid hes known for more than like a week so hes fucking proud of this smartass kid, and then he gets to see him grow up too and he just loves them all more as time passes.

And then its the venom brothers, two years later, they're older when they get out of the city, and poison at least is already a decent fighter. Jets nineteen and ghouls thirteen and the two of them run into the brothers in a firefight, where poisons shielding their little brother with their body, just them against a group of dracs, and of course jet and ghoul see them just in time and sweep in to help. The brothers have been in the zones for just a few weeks aparently, poisons seventeen and kobras fourteen, and they still haven't found a base, so jet invites them to stay in the diner while they figure things out, who they are, how the zones work, and they agree. And since jet and ghoul already visit the station every other fucking day, now kobra and Poison are tagging along too, and they're fucking weird kids and dr d loves them. Poison and pony take a natural shine to each other and to his surprise, cherri becomes a sort of mentor for kobra, whos a real little shit by the way, like ghoul but angry instead of just.. ghoul. Lashing out because he didnt know hat else to do, but with kobra its a different kind of fire, a melting pot of discomfort with his teenage body and figuring out who he is and neurodivergency and getting overstimulated and just hating society and the world in general. Cherri teaches him how to fight with his fists, channel the rage the kid has, thins poisn cant teach him, not really, theyre protective ayway, dont want him holding a gun yet, like ghoul wasnt learning soon as jet took him in because if youre gonna have a gun, you gotta use it right, and out here, you need a gun.

Kobra kind of idolizes Dr D too, cause he's this wicked cool old dj thats like, zones famous, and talks cool and has cool stories, so hes learning to fight from cherri, and this kid thats know nothing but battery city and pills for his whole life gets to hear about the world befoe and music and the wars they only skimmed over in the schools in the city. Kobra talks all city too, kinda hates how he sounded, cause everyone could tell hes from the city from it, but listening to dr d so much, he picks up his accent, old california native/plain old like, fun radio guy kinda accent, yaknow, he says vowels weird somtimes and does the zonestalk thing where ya' smush words t'gether or slur 'em a bit, like that. And he picks up a lot of slang from dr d too.

And once again dr d watches these kids grow up, choose names, watches kobra kid learning to ride a bike and in a couple years he'll be there at his first race at the crash track and fucking cheering, because theres a ton of older joys like him and theres a ton of kids, but this is one of his. These kids chose him, really, and so he's their family, a friend, a father figure, whatever they need.

#sorry i love him #dr d posting #asks #ttlotfk #danger days #the true lives of the fabulous killjoys #doctor death defying

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recordsfm · 1 year ago

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╰ ☆ ◞ renee rapp / cis woman / she/her ——— no way is that SAVANNAH-LYNN COOKE? you know they’re TWENTY-ONE YEARS OLD and they’ve been in los angeles for TWO YEARS. they’re chillin’ as a STRIPPER at LUX. oh and they’re notoriously known for being JADED but there are some people who have seen them be CHARISMATIC. i heard they’re a part of a SOLO ACT called SAVANNAH ROSE, yeah they’re a SINGER/SONGWRITER to be honest they sound a lot like RENEE RAPP, LAUREN SPENCER SMITH, KELSEA BALLERINI & KELLIE PICKLER. they’re actually UNDERGROUND.

PART ONE: STATISTICS.

feel free to omit some questions as you see fit.

basic information:

FULL NAME: Savannah-Lynn Rose Cooke

NICKNAME(S): Sav, Savy, Venus

AGE: 21

DATE OF BIRTH: October 10th 2002

PLACE OF BIRTH: Macon, Georgia

GENDER: Ciswoman

PRONOUNS: she/her

ORIENTATION: Bisexual

LANGUAGE(S) SPOKEN: English.

NEIGHBOURHOOD: Southcrest

LIVING ARRANGEMENTS: Southcrest Terrace

family ties:

MOTHER: Tammy-Jo Cooke

FATHER: Harrison Cooke (dead)

SIBLINGS: None

SPOUSE / PARTNER: None

CHILDREN: None

PETS: None

occupational information:

OCCUPATION: Sex Worker

POSITION (IF APPLICABLE): Stripper

NAME OF THEIR ACT: Savannah Rose

SO THEY PLAY INSTRUMENTS? IF SO WHAT?: Piano, guitar, flute.

ARTIST INFLUENCES: Shania Twain, Taylor Swift, Honey K.

CURRENT MONTHLY SPOTIFY/APPLE MUSIC LISTENS ON AVERAGE: 200

personality:

WESTERN ZODIAC: Libra

CHINESE ZODIAC: Horse

POSITIVE TRAITS: Charismatic, Caring, Flirty

NEGATIVE TRAITS: Jaded, Stubborn, Clingy

HOBBIES: Singing, Dancing, playing guitar, writing poetry

AESTHETICS: Glaring spotlights, leftover glitter, crumpled dollar bills

PART TWO: QUESTIONNAIRE.

start at the beginning, who are you and why are you important?

"My name is Savannah Rose, I'm a 22 year old from Georgia and I'm a singer."

how long have you been making music?

"It kinda feels like forever. I did pageants as a little girl so my mama had me doing all sorts of singing bits and stuff like that. But when it came to actually playing instruments, I think I was about ten? so 12 years?"

how would you describe the kind of music you make?

"For me it's pretty real and raw. Vulnerable. It's very much just a girl and her guitar vibes right now but I'm trying to work on that."

who are some of your biggest musical influences?

"Honestly, Tay swift is my girl. I love how she just writes her truth and doesn't accept peoples bad behavior. But I really did look up to both Shania and Honey K and Jenna for a long time."

what is the first record you ever bought?

"The first one I ever bought? My dad took me to the midnight release of Red by Taylor Swift at target... My mom was so mad because I was tired and cranky for my pageant the next day, but in the end it was worth it."

what has working in the music industry meant to you thus far in your career?

Savy pulled in a deep breath. The last thing she wanted was to dox herself in an interview. But at the same time it was so hard to care. At least now she was taking off her clothes for more money then she ever made in pageants. "I haven't found much success doing just music yet. I'm hoping to change that soon."

what are some stand out moments from your career so far?

"Well, this interview is probably the biggest one so far."

how would you describe your style of performance? what makes your shows worth seeing?

"I try to make sure everyone is having a good time. I mean you always have those people who who will never be happy, but I'll do everything reasonable to make sure you're having a good time."

what are you still hoping to achieve in your career?

"All I wanna be able to do is make a living doing what I love to do."

what’s next for you?

"Well, honestly I'm hoping to get discovered. Signed onto someone's label so I can put out my very first album and see how it goes from there."

PART THREE: BACKGROUND:

Savannah was an unwanted child. Though you've never know at looking at it from the outside.

Tammy Jo was promising Miss Georgia contestant who had her title stripped from her once she got pregnant unexpectedly from a one night stand.

With a baby on the way, there really wasn't much more that Tammy or Harrison could do other then get married. Even if the two were complete opposites.

Due to her dreams being dashed, Tammy Jo entered her three month old daughter into a beauty pageant, much to the dismay

#sonicfm:intro

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monismochi · 1 year ago

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I hate chapter 2 and I feel so bad about it but I cannot fake the enthusiasm I get from group releases for all solos… not all of the member interest me as solo artists and I wonder if this mean I should unstan altogether even though I love them in the group so much.

I think it's super toxic to force yourself to love everything someone releases just bc you like them as people.. and trying to do so will just make you begin to hold it against them.

Like... I think I've said this before last year/early this year when namjoon started doing all sorts of collabs, but if an artist is doing a bunch of different things chances are you won't like everything. But that's good bc it means they're developing as artists and I guess the same thing goes when an artist you love starts focusing on genres you don't like at all. Just pick it up and look at it and if it's not your thing then put it down and enjoy the things you DO like.

I've been thrilled by some chapter 2 developments, neutral about others, and even largely disappointed by others.

But I don't own the members and I don't control them. Maybe over time I might grow apart if they continue doing things in a direction opposite to my interests, but I also might grow closer.

I'm someone who's always been VERY interested in the lyrical aspect of things and love metaphor and the idea that things can be interpreted into many different layers, so tend to lose interest very fast in songs that can only be taken at face value (though exceptions exist)

I'm also very much not a fan of artists repeating the same content as that's equally boring so truly I'm glad evolution is happening even if it feels counterproductive atm.

Am I kinda meh about jks solo? Yeah... bc I enjoy the radio hits done by Justin Bieber, Ed sheeran, Harry styles, and Shawn Mendes... so I'm kinda uninterested in seeing their music be repeated thru jk since I already have them doing that sound... same with dancing. I KNOW jungkook is talented. He's not proving anything to me that I don't know, so him doing replicas of Michael Jackson is also kinda boring bc well.. i can watch decades of MJ doing that already... but for people who don't know him this is a good way for him to show off his vocals and dancing and pop potential... that doesn't include me so I've been pretty meh since it's nothing exciting....

Pop is very repetitive, that's the industry and I'm not faulting that. But if you want to be interesting in it you need to find something that makes you stand out and not replicate what's already being done... :/

I'm not hating on jungkook, and I'm not hating on taehyung.. but I just wish they leaned into things that made them unique instead of doing more safe genres that made them blend in.

But I guess namjoon did that risk and it kinda fcked him over in sales, same with jhope. So clearly I'm not the target audience and they must be doing something right...

Anyways. I'm just hoping that more content is released that IS for me, and I hope the same for you. But if none of it speaks to you it's ok to just enjoy the past content that you DID vibe with and just wait for chapter 3 when they all return and see if that changes anything for you. Xx

I just rbd a ton of content labeled "bts chapter 2" of moments I've really genuinely ADORED and I hope maybe something vibes with you

#bts ot7 #negativity tw #pls nobody think im hating on them #i adore them as people so much #and love the music theyve released over the last 10 years #but with 7 people and 7 sounds youre not always going to vibe with everything...#replies

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laconic-nightmares · 2 years ago

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if you have resources on splitting myself (im not sure how it would work? the impetus is a trauma of sorts but it would be a created plurality so idk) then that would be great. For what its worth I do already practice a distinction between the thoughts and 'me' and have used 'you/us/we' to refer to myself for forever?

and yeah, this seems like a bad way to cope but I have few options yk? ill try real therapy for me and esp the thoughtform when im able.

yeah it's difficult to be sure of origin labels when it's complicated like this, but we settled on the origin label of parotraumagenic because, similarly, our first split was due to the trauma of intrusive thoughts but simultaneously 'on purpose', even if we didn't know any names for what we were doing at the time.

as far as the actual creation goes, i don't really know how i did it, i just sorta 'did it' and experienced very subtle switching for about 5 years until i stumbled across the tulpa community. it was there that i created our tulpa, though my intent at the time was to hijack the consciousness that was already there and turn that into a tulpa. it didn't work so well though, but caim in turn used the process of me making our tulpa to give itself a more defined personality so idk, i guess it kind of worked?

also, it's my belief that a lot more people experience at least a form of psuedo plurality than we're aware of as a society. actors and writers have talked about their characters having minds of their own for centuries, and the concept of a muse is also vaguely pluralish. so yes, that distinction you already have is at least a small step towards it. i think it's incredibly common for people with intrusive thoughts to at least do a small version of what we're doing here as a means of coping.

anyway, enough rambling;

this Tulpa Creation Guide (1) appears to be the main guide in use by the tulpa community right now. there is also this giant list of guides (2) to look through

keep in mind that everything here is pretty separated from the rest of the plural community, so there are going to be a lot of different terms and a lot of different ideas as well. i'm a firm believer in picking and choosing what works for you, so don't feel beholden to any ideas presented in those guides that don't vibe with you.

especially don't be too concerned with the idea of making a fully separate consciousness to your own, or their ideas of full possessive switches (hell, you don't even have to have switches at all if you both vibe with that) - i've found their ideas don't fully gel with median systems (3) and that kinda seems to be what you're going for, they also don't always account for differences between polyconscious (4) and monoconscious (5) systems

i also wouldn't really bother with anything related to imposition. it's a cool thing to be able to do in theory, and if you want to get into it that's fine but it's pretty much just intentionally hallucinating your headmate into the real world and it's not necessary nor does it seem very useful for your case specifically

lastly, though there isn't much in the way of intentional creation of headmates, healthy multiplicity (6) has a lot of resources for how to manage being plural in ways that benefit the whole system, and i'd recommend having a look through all of that as well

i have also found a guide for self-directed exposure response prevention (7), which might be a good thing to do along with your new headmate once you're a little more established. i'll also direct you to the tiktok account (8) - along with their first video on the topic - that i discovered this therapy from

i wish you the best of luck and i do genuinely hope that things get better for you soon. thank you for your patience in the delay of getting this to you

plain text links under the cut in case any of them get weird

https://pluralpedia.org/w/Parotraumagenic - parotraumagenic definition

https://drive.google.com/file/d/1feviU9YQ4o773XEDeZHyjKugNoM1hTgA/view - tulpa creation guide

https://www.reddit.com/r/Tulpas/wiki/guides/ - r/tulpa guides list

https://pluralpedia.org/w/Median - median systems definition

https://pluralpedia.org/w/Polyconscious - polyconscious definition

https://pluralpedia.org/w/Monoconscious - monoconscious definition

http://healthymultiplicity.com/ - healthy multiplicity

https://iocdf.org/expert-opinions/expert-opinion-self-directed-erp/ - self-directed exposure response prevention

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS8xg9u8G/ - ERP tiktok

#sickened answers #current nightmare; dmitri #reference

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takuyakistall · 4 years ago

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to yuu.

Note: I wanted to write short HCs for each character as they wrote the letter when I finished reading everyone's thank you messages (◕ᴗ◕✿) ! All of them are very cute and I couldn't help but get some midnight rot so I had to write it down. Here's the link to the post where every message is listed down. Before you start reading, just a heads up, most of these are written in a romantic light. I also recommend reading the letters themselves first before heading here.

Characters: All students + Grim (Excluding Ortho)

Riddle Rosehearts

"Dear friend," Riddle thought that it was the most appropriate way to address you—or at least, that's what his brain is trying to make him think. Ever since overblotting and you helping him snap out of his frenzy, he had difficulty in labeling what exactly you were to him.

Before everything, you were supposed to be just a mere acquaintance to him and yet here you were sending him gifts out of the blue. The general "rule" towards receiving gifts was to give the giver your thanks. Albeit the better option was to thank you personally, he thought that maybe a letter would be better so that he can sort out his thoughts.

Friend. He nodded, proceeding to write down the rest of his message until he realized that this was an opportunity to invite you to tea with him under the pretense of paying you back for the gift. He furrowed his eyebrows slightly as he continued writing.

Surely, you would accept his invitation, right?

Trey Clover

"Hey you," was that too casual? Too rude sounding? Trey shook his head as he stared at the two words. He hadn't been expecting a gift from you and frankly, he was more than a bit surprised. Though perhaps he hadn't read the "gift" part when he suddenly started writing down questions about what you liked.

He immediately started thinking of how he should pay you back—gifts? He doesn't know your taste that well. Favours? Hmm, he's not too sure about that one. That's why he decided to ask, if there was something you wanted—he'll do his best to find it for you. A tempting offer, right?

It seems like you have to tell him that this wasn't a trade.

Cater Diamond

"Helloooooo," he started off. The extra amount of Os he used was proof that he's trying to take this occurrence casually. Though in the inside he was absolutely beaming. Gifts never fail to put a smile on his face, especially if it came from someone you didn't expect to give you a gift or someone special to him.

In this case, it was probably the latter. He took a small break as he stared at your gift, wondering what he should write. A small smile took over his face as he picked up his phone and snapped a few selfies of him with your gift with a caption before hitting the post button.

"Received a gift from a dear friend, isn't it amazing? ♪"

Deuce Spade

"Friend," Deuce rarely got to experience receiving gifts from friends to one another judging how his past years were spent as a delinquent. To say that he was happy to receive one from you was an understatement, he was over the moon.

He felt the need to mention it to you with a huge grin on his face. He thought of various ways to give you something back as he let out a small hum, he felt like he was having a field day. He signed the message and told himself that today was going to be a great day.

Ace Trappola

"Hey you," Ace was terribly suspicious of the fact that you sent him a gift out of the blue. Were you trying to buy him silence over something you did? Were you trying to convince him to do your homework for you? A lot of questions springed up inside his mind but not once did he think that it was just a genuine, sweet gift with no ulterior motives hidden beneath.

He knew that you would get mad at him if he continued to suspect you so he said that he was kidding in all caps with three dots after that—which didn't help his situation at all.

He felt awkward trying to convey his feelings like this and he ruffled his own hair as he told you that he just needed to tell you something later, when you're face-to-face. That would make it easier for him to speak.

Leona Kingscholar

"Good day," Leona uncharacteristically typed. He felt like he was being held at gunpoint by his past etiquette teachers as he tried to think of an appropriate response. If it were up to him, he would've just slapped a "thank you" on a piece of paper and asked Ruggie to give it to you.

Though he thought that perhaps it was better for him to actually put in effort for once. Even if it seemed like his so called effort seemed like something he just stole from the internet—that was more than enough, right? He'll just put his signature at the bottom and ask Ruggie to give it to you.

Ruggie Bucchi

"Hey you," a big grin took over his face as he wrote down his first few words. He wasn't as experienced as other people when it came to writing down messages of gratitude, he once tried consulting Leona about it—asking how to make it sound decent only to be met with an answer that went like: "Just put whatever."

And that's what he did! Truly, he's thankful for receiving a gift. For a split second, he wondered if he should share it with the people back in his homeland. Though he pushed that thought to the back of his head as he signed the bottom of the paper with his signature. He'll figure that out once he gives the letter to you.

Jack Howl

"Friend," he doesn't know what to say it's embarassing. Even in letters, he still manages to retain that straightforward yet somewhat roundabout personality of his. A tinge of embarrassment seeping through the letter.

He wished he could've just talked to you in person instead but alas, he was stuck here trying to rack his brain for words. In the end, he felt like it was best to keep it simple—the slightly demanding tone at the end was the result of him getting flustered at the thought that it's possible that it could be a date between the two of you.

Azul Ashengrotto

"My dear friend," Azul couldn't count the number of times he had crumpled a piece of paper and threw it into the trashcan only to get a new one—rinse and repeat. Jade and Floyd had to stifle their laughter when they saw how distressed he was over a single message. Though, perhaps that was the fruit of his unconventional feelings towards the giver.

He didn't want to sound too stiff and professional to the point that he sounded like a robot but also, he didn't want to sound too casual to the point that you might find it weird. He had to let out a small sigh as he ruffled his hair, another piece of paper thrown into the trash can before deciding that he should just play it safe and give you a free drink.

Jade Leech

"To my dearest," oh no. His hand slipped and accidentally made his greeting more intimate than it should be, he could go back and change it but—fufu, where's the fun in all of that? His lips tugged up into a smirk as he continued writing, knowing full well that what he was implying would evoke an interesting reaction out of you. But, if that wasn't enough to stir you up a bit then why not put a little more something? He was a prick this way.

He spotted an empty space on one of his shelves in the corner of his eye, glancing at it for a few seconds before an idea popped into his head. A smile that barely showed off his sharp canines, hidden beneath his gloved hand.

"Truly. Would I lie to you?"

Floyd Leech

"Little shrimpy," he grinned. Floyd was in an especially good mood today after receiving such a thoughtful gift from you. He played with his pen in hand, spinning it around as a distant look took over his face when he tried thinking about the reason why you gave him a gift out of nowhere.

Knowing that Floyd pays a little more attention to you than others, he was bound to be curious and he was more than eager to find out—there's always a reason behind someone's actions, after all. He tried expressing his intent to get the answer out of you which came out a little threatening but if you saw the look on his face there's no mistaking that it was an even bigger threat than you initially thought.

Kalim Al-Asim

"Hey love," Kalim was as straightforward as ever. Not a single filter as he wrote down his raw feelings. There was no reason for him to hesitate especially now that he was practically about to shake from pure joy—he was incredibly close to signing the letter and hopping into his magic carpet to give it to you personally but Jamil was there beside him to stop him if he ever does that.

Though that didn't mean that it was gonna stop him from wanting to ask you out on a magic carpet date with him, he'll just have to explain to Jamil when you accept his invitation. That is assuming you'll accept, right?

Jamil Viper

"Dear friend," Kalim practically forced him to write a letter back to you. Jamil wasn't an ingrate, he knew when to show gratitude when it was appropriate but he preferred thanking you in person. He had to settle for this in the meantime, he thought that maybe he'll just invite you to Scarabia to talk about what he could give in return.

He hadn't really expected a gift from you, especially with all the trouble he might've caused you due to his overblot. Though he didn't think it was all that bad. In fact, he felt a little relieved that you didn't hold any grudge against him.

Vil Schoenheit

"My dear," Vil had an unmistakable smirk placed upon his lips. The choice of words he wrote managed to give out a slightly smug vibe as he stared at your gift on his desk. Impressed by your ability for finding him a suitable gift, he decided to give you a little bit in return.

His smirk slowly turned into a gentle smile as he imagined your face probably tearing up at the thought of him giving you a signed card, he couldn't help but put an offhanded comment near the end. But it was quickly followed up with a single bit of rare praise from him.

Rook Hunt

"Hey love," Rook was always one to act dramatically whenever he had the chance and even in letters, he managed to sound dramatic. As soon as he realized that you had sent him a gift he started gushing about how wonderful it was and how inspiration was raining down on him like tiny droplets.

What's a better way to let his raw emotions out than poetry? That's right, this man wrote you a poem expressing how he feels because of your gift. He almost forgot to say his gratitude because he got carried away but thankfully, Epel pointed it out to him before he could give it to you.

Epel Felmier

"Dear friend," he rarely got any gifts from anyone outside his relatives so when he saw you give him a gift, he was excited to say the least. There's always a certain joy you can evoke in a person when you give them a gift it was almost euphoric for some. He thought that it was sweet of you to give him a gift and decided to give one back with a small message.

Friend. For some reason, it felt a bit off addressing you as that but he quickly shook his head and shot down that thought. As for his gift, he prepared a little something he made himself. Hehe, he's quite proud of it too!

Idia Shroud

"@YOU" it was interesting how Idia didn't bother changing to formal speech when he decided to give you a thank you message for your gift. He's typing the same way he would to his friend, namely "Crimson Muscle", but perhaps that was because he didn't know of any other way to talk to you without sounding unnatural or weird.

People would normally not even think about giving him something and yet you gave him one. He couldn't help but smile a bit when he said how you were a bit of an oddball—he came up with various nicknames for you inside his head. Most of them being different words for the term "weirdo". Yet they always had a hint of affection whenever he would think of it.

Malleus Draconia

"Dearest," Malleus started off. It was rare that he received gifts from people outside his family or nobles back in the Valley since a lot of people found him intimidating—terrifying for some, even. He was glad that you felt comfortable enough around him to show simple gestures such as these. Upon receiving your gift, Lilia noticed how it came from you and urged Malleus to write his thank you message differently from how he usually writes it.

Did you perhaps know of the legends surrounding the Thorn Witch...? If so, then maybe he could sneak in a little joke. The gift of beauty and the gift of song—ah, nevermind. He pursed his lips slightly, he'll just handpick a gift for you himself. A small gargoyle statue, maybe. Or he could ask the other members of Diasomnia to help him.

Lilia Vanrouge

"My dear," his lips formed a small smirk. Lilia appreciated all surprises, big or small. Though, in particular, something about your surprise gift made him more excited about it than usual. Was that just his old age getting to him or was it something else? He couldn't be bothered to think about it that much.

As a form of gratitude, he weighed his options. It was either giving you a gift back or letting you ask a favour of him. He thought the latter would be more acceptable until an idea popped into his head as his eyes sparkled with a hint of mischief. He knew you didn't know what it exactly meant but he gave you his signature nonetheless—he'll leave you to figure out.

Silver

"Hey you," Lilia taught Silver that it was common courtesy to show gratitude when someone gives him a gift. He tried thinking of countless ways to say thank you with his old man bugging him to ask you out on a date instead in the background. In the end, he paid Lilia no attention and instead went with the standard short message and giving a gift back.

He urged himself not to fall asleep as he typed out his message even though he already let out a yawn without him noticing. He glanced at the screen blankly, wondering if he forgot to add anything until he slowly felt himself snoozing off. Head resting on the keyboard and typing out whatnot. When Lilia arrived at the scene, he didn't bother waking him up and just sent the message as it is.

Silver was so embarassed the next day and refused to talk to Lilia temporarily.

Sebek Zigvolt

"Human," he didn't even try addressing you as anything else other than that even in letters. When he found a gift lying by his room, he was a tad suspicious but loosened up when he read the tag attached to it. As stated, it came from you and the gift was meant for Malleus—wait, what. Sebek scrunched up his face as his eyes scanned the words printed on it.

"To Sebek Zigvolt" This was a mistake, right? Sebek was a bit flushed but quickly shook it off by saying how it was probably a subterfuge or whatever that was. There was no way it was for actually for him, right? Surely, you must've sent this in hopes of hearing more about the great Malleus Draconia. Right?

That is... Wonderful!

Grim

"Dear underling," it was cute how he made an effort to write you a letter despite being in the same dorm wherein he could just talk to you directly. But perhaps he was so touched to the extent that he wanted to do this—did you give him tuna? He struggled thanking you properly and ended up boasting about how he was going to be the greatest sorcerer.

Even though he called you underling at first, he couldn't help but soften up a bit. That didn't sit right with him somehow, he didn't know why. He let out a groan as he racked his head for a more appropriate word until-!

Partner... Sounds about right.

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demonologistfucker · 4 years ago

Text

In Love with an Artist💛✨

Obey me! Boys x gn! Mc who is a professional artist. I try to be vague about what sort of art you make so that anyone can fit in. As well as what your goals are as a professional artist. This could be someone who just posts art online, does commissions, whatever. I put in some gallery shows cuz those are fun to think about.

this is SFW Fluff💛 rest of the brothers under the cut

Lucifer

- he saw on your file that you did art, but wasn’t really thinking too much about it. Though when you arrived to your dorm you were greeted with a set of art supplies. A nice sketchbook, a couple pencils and pens. As well as rather high end paint set and brushes. He will never bring it up.

- if you do art out where others can see he’ll try to get a look as what you do, but if you’re private about it he would be respectful. Lucifer doesn’t enjoy when people step over his boundaries, and wouldn’t want to do that he you. He knows enough about artists to understand that ones work is personal.

- when he does get to see what you make he will be internally blown away, but outwardly just ask questions about your process. Trying to figure out if there is symbolism you are drawn to, or what you were trying to capture. There is always a little more to art than just the subject.

- if you want to continue being a professional artist in the Devildom he would be a great support. Would give you advice on who to contact and what venues would be best for your work. He seems to have had the information all prepared. He wouldn’t flex his power too much because he wants this to be your own effort, but is happy to help if you want it.

- At shows he’s a an easy presence besides you. Though he likes to be admired. he knows when to step back at let you shine. If nerves catch your tongue or the social work becomes to much. Lucifer will step in with smooth answers. He knows your work backwards and forwards. So can easily answer any question a patron might have.

Mammon

- “oh you should draw me!” It’s up to you if you actually do, but that’s one of the first things out of his mouth when he learns you do art. He does have a pretty face, and would make a good life model....

- Doesn’t verbalize that he thinks your art is cool, but he does want to see every little thing you make. Finds even your doodles to be mesmerizing. So if you’re do art while he’s around be prepared for him leaning over your shoulder to get a good look.

- If you’re trying to make money off of your art Mammon is extremely helpful. his sway over people’s spending could magically get people to be interested in you, but he’s also just good at setting prices. He will not stand for you setting your prices too low, and will come after people who try to skip out on paying.

- Will try to get your art hung up in every establishment he has a connection too. Not every place will be your vibe though so you get to choose where your art actually ends up.

- Though his room style is more modern minimalism. He has several of your pieces framed around his room. A couple you were sure had been sold...

Leviathan

- as a proud otaku he knows how to treat artists right 👏🏻👏🏻 if he wants you to draw something for him he’s gunna tip out of his ass. Leviathan has definitely worked with artists before. Commissioning cosplay, or fanart, and each time he tips outrageously. So be prepared for what he might do to try and impress you.

- Initially gets a little over eager with the commissions, but is able to figure out that.. you might want to do some art just for fun. Or enjoy other things too. Talk to him and he’ll relax. He just wants to support your beautiful art!

- really loves it when you show him what your working on. Especially when you show sketches or work in progresses. It makes him feel really special to see the unfinished product. Being trusted with your genuine ideas and imperfect thoughts means a lot to him.

- if your art is story based at all. He will want to hear All about it. Might say it reminds him of anime’s he’s watched but he means that as the highest compliment. Your idea are just as good as his beloved shows. Your ideas might even be better because he gets to love the person who made them.

- If you have an art show... He will leave his room for you. He will look so dashing, but so uncomfortable. There with you as long as you need him, but if you are fine on your own he might hang out in a corner. Or go home early.

-When you get home he will make it up to you✨

Satan

- He isn’t going to push you to show off your art if you don’t want too. Even if you are drawing in the same room as him. He just can’t see himself being able to interrupt you. Your focused expression is delightful. Though curiosity will eventually get the better of him if you don’t show him yourself.

- Once you do he is captivated. His face is still calm and collected. Expect for his eyes which are wide and sparkling. If you let him he’ll spend a full hour looking at just one of your pieces. Satan will try to spot every little detail, and see how it all comes together. Both as a reflection of what your are trying to capture but also you. What he see’s only makes him more captivated.

- Asks good questions about what you’re working on, as well as complimenting by comparing to other artists in the realms. You had no idea what he meant when he said your worked reminded him of the great Venia the Dark Slayer. So he showed you his books on Devildom artists. You were surprised that Venia the Dark Slayer really did have something in common with your work. Weirdly enough. He also has sections for earth and the celestial realm artists. You are more then welcome to look through them whenever you like.

- When you’re not around he talks about your art a lot. Always so proud of the latest piece he saw you working on. Satan conveniently forgets that some of his friends are gallery owners. He won’t sign you up for any shows without your informed consent, but he definitely help you get shows much easier.

- Whether he helps you get the show or not. He wants to help set up. His eye for detail makes hanging all the frames easier, as well as making good labels for the work. Whenever you can’t come up with a name for a piece. he’s pretty good at coming up with something clever.

Asmodeus

- Also going to lean over your shoulder to see what you’re making. Then is absolutely captivated by what you’re able to make.

- ART DAY! Asmo wants to be creative with you as much as you’re willing for. So you’ll both take up a table and have your art supplies shared in the middle. Asmo is planning his never dress design, or possibly a make up look he’d want to try. Stops to talks to you a lot. Wanders the room and ends up against you to peak at what you’re working on again.

- He’ll ask for your opinion on his outfits and make up, as well as any other creative project they’ve gotten involved with. See’s you as a creative equal.

- Thinks everything you made is brilliant, but also gives good constructive criticism when you want it.

- When you get your first Devildom Galley. It’s going to be the biggest event that whole week. Asmo will not stand for anyone not going to this wonderful event. Takes over most of the party planning. Which makes you worried it’s going to be a big flirty party with Asmo at the center of attention. When you get there it is beautiful. Asmo has decorated the place to fit the theme or your art. There is catering and drinks. All of which again are themed to your art or just your favorite foods.

- He’s so proud of you of course he had to make this event special.

Beelzebub

- :OOOO

- Really blown away by what you’re capable off. Asks you to send him photos as you work on pieces. Very quietly supportive. When you do art with him around he feels so happy. There will be a small smile on his face the whole time. Which breaks out into a beam whenever you show him what you’re working on.

- If you need a life model👀👀👀 Beel wouldn’t mind posing for you.

- Very used to you coming up and asking him to hold something, or do something with his hands. So that you can reference it. Either holds the pose or asks you to take a picture if busy.

- Commissions you to do art for his brother’s birthdays. Not only does he get to support your work, but he knows his brothers will be thrilled to have one of your pieces.

- If you give him any art it will be treasured till the end of time. Neatly framed and kept somewhere he can see everyday.

- Makes sure you stretch before and after doing arts. Making art requires a lot of fine motor skills that can put serious strain on your body. It’s important to take breaks and stretch.

Belphegor

- His face makes a good desk when he falls asleep on your lap

- Might want to do art with you from time to time. He’s got a lot of thoughts in that brain and getting them out on paper feels really nice. If he can’t come up with something to make. he still gets to watch you make art which is always nice.

- Wants to know the meaning behind your artwork. Even if he doesn’t particularly like an art piece. He wants to know what it meant to you, and its importance. Or lack there of. Some art is just shits and giggles. Belphegor just wants to know the intent of what you’re doing.

- Has never gone to a gallery before, but for you?? He will be there on time. Hair brushed, face washed, and freshly shaved. Maybe even wearing a suit.

- “How many commissions have you been doing? no get your ass to bed.”

- Very good at reminding you to take breaks. Or getting in your way so much you can’t work and Have to rest.

#this is my first time doing something like this aaa #Obey me!#Obey me! Headcanons #Obey me! gn mc #Obey me! Lucifer #Obey me! Leviathan #Obey me! Mammon #Obey me! Satan #Obey me! Asmodeous #Obey me! Beelzebub #Obey me! belphegor #artist mc #headcanons #demon brothers

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five-rivers · 4 years ago

Text

Danger First

Chapter 3

@pocketramblr (also please let me know if you would like me to stop tagging you on these, I don't want to be annoying. :))

"WAIT!" shouted Nana abruptly, as Izuku was talking to his (weirdo) teacher. "I know who that is! Quick, get ready to turn everything off!"

"Turn what off?" asked En. "We live in a formless mental void. We don't even have electricity."

"The quirk! That's Eraserhead!"

"Oh, yeah," said Yoichi, while everyone else (sans Second and Third) scrambled to grab onto the quirk. "I remember Eight meeting him, now! So, he's a teacher, huh?"

"How do all of you forget the one person who might be capable of one-shotting All for One?" demanded Nana.

"Doesn't his quirk not work on mutations?"

"Stop daydreaming and get over here, Yoichi!"

The quirkspace began to glow faintly, ominously red, and the ghosts pulled hard on the quirk, holding it temporarily out of Izuku's reach.

Then, the red glow abated and they dropped it back into place.

"Well, that was exhausting," said Banjo. "So, we'll have to be constantly ready for that, huh?"

"As long as he's around, yeah," said Nana.

"Why did we just do that, anyway?" asked En.

"So we can continue to masquerade as a normal, non-haunted quirk?"

"We could have just let him think he didn't have a quirk, or that the anxiety-"

"Super anxiety."

"-isn't part of it."

Yoichi gasped, as if scandalized. "You'd want us to lie to Izuku?"

"Okay, seriously, what is up with you and Nine?" asked En.

Despite not having a body, Yoichi began to visibly sweat. "Nothing, nothing at all. I just... think he's neat?"

"If you're going to lie to us, can you not do it with archaeomemes?" asked Nana.

"No, no, actually, I can get behind this," said En. "Would you say Izuku has... vibes?"

Yoichi nodded solemnly.

"Young Midoriya!"

Izuku shrieked and jumped back from the sudden sound as All Might suddenly emerged from an otherwise innocuous bush.

Both of them froze, staring at each other.

"Are you..." said All Might, hesitantly, sounding much more like he did in his small form than usual, "alright?"

"I... think so?"

"That's good, then." All Might coughed slightly into his fist. "I was wondering if you had a few minutes."

"Of- of course!" said Izuku, immediately.

"Then allow me to lead the way!"

All Might led him through a door labeled 'staff only' and immediately deflated. "All the staff know about my condition," explained Mr. Yagi.

Izuku nodded. Then a thought occurred to him. "Mr. Yagi?"

"Yes, my boy?"

"Why, um, why don't you teach, um, as Mr. Yagi? Instead of as All Might? Wouldn't it save your time?"

Mr. Yagi stopped and scratched his head. "I hadn't really thought about it before," he admitted. "But part of the reason I took this job, other than wanting to help train the next generation of heroes, of course, is that I want to get people used to the idea that I am going to retire." He tugged on one of his bangs. "Also, ah, I'm not sure if my qualifications to teach are quite up to par without my reputation."

"I'm sure it would be fine! You're the best, after all!"

Mr. Yagi chuckled. "I'm glad you think so," he said. Then he reached behind him and opened a door. "In any case: my office."

"Wow," said Izuku, quietly, stepping in. "All Might's office..." Who knew when he'd get another opportunity like this again? He kept his eyes wide to drink in the details.

The rather sparse details. The office was rather bare. Which made sense, seeing as All Might was a brand-new teacher. It was sort of... disappointing, as thrilling as it was.

Mr. Yagi sat down behind the desk and gestured for Izuku to take one of the other chairs. It had a lot of cushioning. A lot a lot. Izuku sank down into the fluff as Mr. Yagi fiddled with a drawer on his desk. He got the drawer open, and pulled out a notebook. A notebook of the same brand Izuku liked to use, actually.

"Since your experiences with One for All are so different from mine, I thought it might be a good idea to do some research into past holders and take a leaf out of your notebook, as it were." He passed the notebook over to Izuku, who took it with shaking hands and a slightly open mouth.

"I'll treasure it," he declared, voice wobbling.

"Not so much that you don't use it, I hope," said Mr. Yagi. "As it is, it's only an overview. The earlier holders, especially, don't have many records associated with them. Consider it a starting point. I haven't had much time to work on it."

"I can't believe you found the time to write this at all," said Izuku, flipping through the pages. The information was sparse, but each holder had a basic profile, all the way back to the fourth. "I mean, between being a hero, training me, and preparing to be a teacher, I'm stunned nothing fell by the wayside!"

Mr. Yagi proceeded to turn a very interesting color.

"Uh, nothing fell by the wayside, right?"

"Why don't you take a few minutes to skim through. If anything jumps out at you right away, we can talk about it. And then I'll let you go get changed and go home, and we can discuss more later, after you've had more time with it."

"Okay!" said Izuku. He'd start with just the basic profiles. Name, date of birth, date of death, quirk... wait, those ages... "They all died young," he said, softly.

"Hero work is dangerous," said Mr. Yagi, hand going to his side.

"There's something else, isn't there?"

"Not something you need to worry about. I took care of it, years ago." The hand holding his side spasmed slightly.

"... Six years ago?" asked Izuku, aware he was pushing his luck. But this sounded both important and relevant.

There was a long pause. "Yes," said All Might, finally. "A villain with a longevity quirk. He... had a history with the first user."

Izuku got the feeling that was an understatement. It also seemed unlikely that the only application of the villain's quirk was longevity, given what he'd done to All Might. But the subject was clearly making All Might uncomfortable, so he dropped it in favor of burying his nose in the notebook again.

(Social fumbles aside, this was the most secure Izuku had felt for... a while.)

"The sixth user had a smoke quirk?"

"Yes, it seems so. Although it doesn't seem to have been actual smoke, but a biological compound."

"I wonder if that has anything to do with all the steam you release when you deflate. Actually..." he flipped back through the quirk. "I wonder if you're using Float, too, subconsciously, when you jump."

"What?"

"I- I mean," said Izuku, "I noticed, when, um, when I grabbed your ankle and also in videos of you- Your hang time is kind of messed up? You're in the air for longer than you should be, but it isn't, like, consistent? Plus, you can change direction mid-air, which I thought was because you were shooting out blasts of air pressure with your quirk, but with me on your ankle, you definitely didn't do that. There was- there was a forum I was on where some people thought your quirk tapped into magnetic fields, somehow, but that doesn't make any sense, because you'd expect a lot more electronic interference and that similar locations would produce similar results, given the Earth's magnetic field, but they don't. But subconscious, low-level use of a telekinesis-based flying quirk would explain everything. If we take into account what you said about my anxiety after the entrance exam, then that's minor expressions of three out of four of the quirks listed here, not counting the base stockpile and enhancement quirk. Do you think the unknown quirks of the second and third users might have partially manifested for you as well? Have you experienced anything else that's atypical for a strength enhancement quirk?"

Mr. Yagi stared at Izuku.

Oh, no, he'd gone too far.

"Nothing immediately comes to mind, my boy," he said, faintly. "But... magnets? Really?"

"I told you it didn't make any sense."

Mr. Yagi rubbed his chin. "There might be something, but... it's too unclear to say either way. I'll keep an eye out. It's just... a lot to take in. I thought One for All was done surprising me."

"When has it surprised you before?"

"Oh, under the influence of certain mental quirks, you can wind up hallucinating the previous users."

"Hallucinating?"

"Yes. But being under the influence of a mental quirk is always the larger issue, so..."

"Mr. Yagi," said Izuku. "That's really the kind of thing you should let people know about up front."

"I- is it?"

The ghosts all stared at Nana.

"Hey, don't blame this on me! None of us explained that kind of stuff before passing One for All on."

"In our defense," said En, half raising a hand, "we were usually dying when we passed it on."

"More importantly," said Hikage, "do you think Ninth is right about the quirks?"

"It would make sense," mused Yoichi. "Although then we'd have to wonder why Blackwhip didn't manifest similarly."

"Is it too much for me to get someone to use my quirk? My extremely awesome quirk, that has no downsides?"

"It is powered almost exclusively by rage."

"No downsides."

"You-"

"No. Downsides."

Aizawa passed him an envelope labeled 'quirk counseling' along with the standard schedule and orientation packet he was handing to everyone else. It didn't look like any of his class mates had noticed, though, for which Izuku was grateful. He didn't want to be known as a weirdo who didn't know what his own quirk was.

He heavily suspected he was tapping into Danger Sense, somehow, but he didn't know how, and the fourth user of One for All had lived so long ago there weren't any records of him. Not easily and publicly available. Everything Mr. Yagi had written in his notebook (that Izuku had probably stayed up way too late reading... and texting Mr. Yagi about it... and comparing it to his notes... and texting Mr. Yagi about that... and reviewing old All Might compilations and theory threads... and having Mr. Yagi threaten to call his mom if he didn't go to sleep...) about the fourth user had been retrieved from the journals Mr. Yagi's mentor had passed down, according to one of the source notes in the margin.

(Mr. Yagi had really neat, small handwriting, which Izuku wouldn't have ever expected from his large, dramatic signatures as All Might, and his notes were meticulous and carefully cited. If Izuku didn't know better, he would have thought it belonged to a secretary.)

But despite Izuku's suspicions, he didn't actually know. He didn't know it's range, what it defined as danger, whether or not it 'ranked' dangers, how to distinguish it from normal anxiety, or- Well. Anything, really. And he would really like to.

He opened the envelope quietly. Inside was a handwritten note instructing him to pick one of three schedules for quirk counseling and return it to Aizawa by the end of the day. The other pages were printed, with times and possible locations. Options for both before and after the school day.

Izuku felt his eyes tearing up. This was easily the nicest thing a teacher had ever done for him... Although he was nervous about being alone with Aizawa. Some of his other teachers, when they asked him to stay after class it was... not good.

Nothing bad happened, not like in movies or TV shows or the awareness videos the school had shown sometimes. The teachers didn't hurt him, really, didn't do anything to him, other than talk or yell, mostly, but it still wasn't good.

Maybe he could ask Mr. Yagi or Recovery Girl to sit in... But he already felt bad, taking up so much of their time.

He picked one of the after school schedules. He was already staying late on the other days to work with Mr. Yagi, and if something did go wrong, he wanted to have the night to recover before he had to face Aizawa again in class.

He put it to the side, so he'd remember to give it to Aizawa before he left, then looked over the class schedule. Homeroom, Math, Hero Art History, History, and English in the morning. At least this morning. The history classes alternated with something called Heroics-Applied Science and Hero Law and Ethics. Afternoons, meanwhile, were entirely occupied by Hero Basic Training.

And every class would be taught by a pro hero. He wondered if it would be rude to ask for their autographs...

Shouta grunted as Hizashi flopped down onto the couch next to him on the couch in the staff breakroom. "What a morning! I just love seeing all those bright little faces at the beginning of the year. Anyone have a favorite first year yet?"

Shouta kicked Hizashi through his sleeping bag. Sadly, this had no effect on the man.

"I think mine might be the little green guy. He's the only one who was actually paying attention, and you know how rare that is, when everyone is anticipating their first heroics lesson. The rest of us just pale in comparison."

Shouta attempted to kick Hizashi again, this time for an entirely different reason. Midoriya was already All Might's favorite (probably)- he did not need more pull with the staff.

"I know who my least favorite is," said Kan. "Kid's certainly dedicated and competitive, but I wouldn't be surprised if he threatened his middle school teachers into giving him those glowing reviews. His personality needs a lot of work. How did you get Nezu to saddle me with Bakugo, anyway, Eraser?"

"I had nothing to do with it."

"Don't give me that, I was going to have Monoma. At least he's a team player."

"You're being illogical," said Shouta, zipping his sleeping bag closed over his face.

"How about you, Nemuri?" asked Hizashi, cutting off Vlad King vs Eraserhead round five hundred.

"It's hard to choose! They're all so cute and eager! Full of the passion of youth! I think they're all my favorite."

"You always say that..."

The door opened and closed.

"All Might! What about you? Any favorites yet?"

Yagi coughed. "I've only had the one class of third years so far. Don't you think that's rather... premature?"

What an incredible nonanswer.

"How did that first class of yours go, anyway? They didn't sour you to the whole idea of teaching, did they?"

"Not at all! The students were wonderful. The third years are very advanced, aren't they? For some of them, I wouldn't be shocked to see that skill level on an active sidekick."

"What can I say? We start them off right," crowed Hizashi.

"They did seem a little surprised by the scenario, however."

"So was I, t'be honest," said Snipe, who was in charge of the third years.

"Ah, was it no good...?"

"It was fine. Lesson plan was a bit rough around the edges, but you and Nezu'll be goin' over that later. But... quirk traffickin' doesn't quite seem like your thing."

"Ah, well, set-pieces," he said, using the slightly derisive underground slang for large-scale spotlight hero battles, "may be what I'm known for, but before my injury, the majority of my battles and investigations weren't publicized."

"Shield laws?" asked Nemuri.

"Generally, yes, but some of the investigations were tied to others, so we were using the organized crime secrecy laws to keep those under wraps. Simply put, my popularity isn't the only reason I keep the number one spot despite Endeavor having more completed cases than me on paper."

Shouta had known there was more to All Might than 'punchy, over-the-top, eyestrain-causing, bombastic muscle guy,' but part of his stupid, illogical brain was annoyed at Yagi for pummeling that image into imaginary dust, anyway. It seemed like the man's only two flaws were horrible interpersonal skills when not using his public persona, and his vast suite of health issues, the latter of which all heroes who operated long enough picked up.

Oh, and a possible inclination towards bribery.

Made it hard to dislike him, which Shouta wanted to do, because he was loud, flashy, and gave him headaches, literal and metaphorical. He ignored the fact that Hizashi was the same way, and had forcibly become Shouta's best friend. Clearly, there was no connection here.

"By the way, why is young Aizawa completely zipped in like that?"

"Nap time," said Hizashi, solemnly.

"Sir?" said Iida, raising his hand.

"Yes, young man?" boomed All Might.

"There are nineteen of us. How are we handling the odd person out?"

"Excellent question! In other exercises, we may handle it differently, but for today, one of you will be working alone! Occasionally, a hero may find themselves isolated when they originally expected help. However, for better balance, I have also arranged it so the odd hero out will be taking part in the last battle, so you'll have more time to strategize!"

But the other team would also have more time to strategize, Izuku noted. He really hoped it wouldn't be him... not that he wanted to force it on any if his classmates! He just didn't want yet another handicap on the first day of training.

All Might walked around with the box of ballots, pausing for each student to take one. He reached Izuku and held the box out to him with a wink. Izuku smiled back, reached in, and grabbed one.

A chill ran up his back and he froze, fingers wrapped tightly around the little ball. Something told him this was definitely the cursed, single-person ballot. Could he let it go? Would it be considered cheating if he picked a new one?

But All Might was already walking away. Every part of his body tense, Izuku turned his hand over and forced his fingers apart.

The tenth character of the Latin alphabet. For the tenth, last, team.

He watched as everyone else started to pair up, and All Might looked at him apologetically.

Izuku approximated a smile. Plus ultra, right?

#bnha #boku no hero academia #fic #fanfic #danger first au #danger first

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prouvaireafterdark · 4 years ago

Text

Casual Affair

AKA the “Anti-Forlex Smut”

Technically not a cheating fic, but it kind of has that vibe for a while so if that’s a dealbreaker for you then you might want to skip this one. If you’re looking for unrepentant filth, though, I’ve, uh, got you covered.

Also on AO3!

***

Open Mic Night at the Wild Pony tends to draw a crowd of all sorts: rowdy undergrads from the local community college, older folks trying to recapture their youth with some spirited karaoke, and even soulful academic types like Forrest looking to share their angsty emo poetry. Tonight, as Alex soon discovers, it’s also drawn in Michael Guerin.

Alex doesn’t need to look to know Michael’s staring at him. He can feel his eyes on him like a caress, heavy on the side of his neck before it slides hot down the length of his chest to settle low above his belt buckle. If it wasn’t for the blue-haired historian sitting next to him he’d already have done something about it.

He takes a deep swallow of the beer he’s been nursing for the last ten minutes and tries to ignore him. Maybe if he pretends the restless energy thrumming through his whole body isn’t there, it’ll go away.

Luckily, he’s got a decent enough distraction; A pair of tone deaf townies are currently massacring “Under Pressure” on stage, a spectacle awful enough to hold his attention like a six car pile up. Alex takes another drink and tries not to laugh behind the rim of his bottle.

The performance—if one can even call it that—is over in minutes and as the next musician takes the stage, Alex’s gaze finally wanders over toward the bar. Through the crowd of people drinking and laughing with their friends and partners, he catches sight of Michael immediately.

He’s sitting at the bar, but he’s facing out toward the crowd and Alex can’t help but notice how good he looks. With the way his elbows are tucked behind him and resting on the bar top, his chest hair is on proud display through his indecently buttoned flannel and the worn denim of his jeans is pulled tight over his spread thighs. He’s even got his fingers wrapped suggestively around the neck of the beer bottle in his hand—non-alcoholic, Alex registers with no small amount of pride as he catches sight of the label. However messy and complicated things are between them now, he’s glad to see that Michael is making some better choices these days.

Michael notices him staring, because of course he does. He cocks his head and smirks, not subtle at all about what he wants. That look cuts right through him, sending heat down Alex’s spine.

Alex takes a deep breath and turns to face the stage, desperately hoping whatever top 40 hit the new girl on stage is singing will calm his growing erection. Its mindless beat helps him relax, but not enough that Forrest doesn’t notice something’s up.

“You okay?” he asks him, moving his hand off the table to rest his arm along the back of Alex’s chair. Alex tries not to flinch when his fingers comb through the hair that curls along the base of his neck, long enough now that it’s not quite regulation anymore.

“Yeah,” Alex smiles encouragingly, hoping Forrest doesn’t see through him. He shifts in his seat, leaning forward until Forrest’s fingers slip away from his collar. “You want something to drink?”

“Uh,” Forrest starts, looking at his half-empty beer before shrugging. “Yeah, I’ll have another.”

“Great,” Alex says, already standing. “Be right back.”

He makes his way across the bar, trying his best to ignore the way Michael smirks and spreads his thighs a little wider where he sits perched on the edge of his barstool.

“You’ve gotta stop looking at me like that,” Alex chastises him once he’s close enough. He slides into the space at the bar beside him, facing forward with his elbows on the bar top. He catches Michael’s easy smile out of the corner of his eye, and he’s relieved he isn’t hit with the full force of it.

“I’ve been looking at you like this for over ten years, Alex,” Michael replies. “I’m not gonna stop now.”

Alex tries to ignore the way that makes his heart feel somehow light and heavy at the same time where it beats frantically behind his ribs.

“Why are you even here?” Alex asks, chancing a glance at Michael’s face.

Like the demon that he is, Michael chooses that moment to bring his non-alcoholic beer to his lips and take a long sip. Alex watches his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and tries desperately not to think about how fucking tight his throat had felt the last time he’d gotten Michael on his knees.

He doesn’t quite manage it and either it’s written all over his face or Isobel’s taught Michael some new tricks because he can see smug satisfaction in the way his eyes sparkle in the neon glow coming from behind the bar.

Alex shifts his stance, dutifully ignoring the tightness in his jeans, and tries again. “You hate Open Mic Night.”

“You don’t,” Michael shrugs, like that explains anything.

Alex kind of hates that it does.

“I’m not performing tonight,” Alex tells him.

“No, you’re not,” Michael agrees, and then adds a beat later, “but your boyfriend is.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Alex bristles. Sure, he and Forrest have been hooking up now and then, but he isn’t—he’s not—

“Does he know that?” Michael asks skeptically, interrupting his thoughts.

Alex rolls his eyes, uninterested in explaining the intricacies of his not-relationship with Forrest. He doesn’t really see how it matters now, after everything they’ve gotten up to in the last few weeks.

Michael just licks his lips and gives him that infuriatingly sexy grin before he leans in and says, “Well, if he’s not your boyfriend, then why don’t you meet me in the bathroom in five?”

Heat once again rushes through Alex at Michael’s proposition, pooling low in his gut. He turns to look at him in disbelief, but Michael’s smile just grows more smug.

“See you soon,” he whispers, and stands up from his seat, his drink left abandoned on the bar.

Alex resolutely does not stare at Michael’s ass as he saunters off toward the bathroom. It’s a good thing too—the bartender steps in front of him not two seconds later.

“What can I get you?” he asks, drying off a clean pint glass with a checkered dishtowel.

Alex clears his throat before he places his order and fishes a twenty out of his wallet.

He lays it on the bar with every intention that this time he will stand his ground, get his drinks, and rejoin Forrest at their table, but the next thing Alex knows, he’s pushing his way through the crowd and into the small, dimly-lit bathroom.

He finds Michael leaning against the sink, arms folded across his chest. He smirks when he sees Alex enter, but Alex doesn’t give him long to gloat before he’s crossed the distance between them and has the front of Michael’s soft flannel bunched up in his fists.

Michael’s eyes flash to Alex’s mouth, his tongue peeking out to wet his own lips in anticipation, but he doesn’t make a move to kiss him. He won’t—not while Alex is obviously out with someone else. It’s an absurd line to draw at a moment like this, but Michael told him once that if Alex wants him, he can come and get him, so it’s Alex’s move now.

Alex thinks it’s more complicated than that, that they still have a lot to talk about before they try to do this thing for real, but what he thinks more is that he wants to remind himself what Michael’s mouth tastes like.

He surges forward to kiss him, slotting their lips together easily. Michael pulls him closer the moment Alex lets him know he can, blunt nails biting softly into his skin as he slides his fingers under the edges of Alex’s shirt. Alex deepens the kiss almost immediately, Michael’s teasing leaving him desperate and wanting. Michael opens for him so sweetly when he licks along the seam of his lips, just as eager for more as Alex slides his tongue into his mouth.

They kiss like that for what feels like ages but can’t be longer than a minute, Alex losing himself for the moment to the scent of petrichor in the air around him and the taste of it on his tongue. He isn’t sure who pulls away first, but the next thing he knows both of their chests are heaving as they gasp into the narrow space between their mouths.

He opens his eyes to see Michael looking back at him, his pupils blown wide, lips red and wet. He’s so fucking beautiful Alex’s heart aches in ways he can’t describe.

“Mm,” Michael hums low in his throat, nudging his nose against Alex’s cheek. “What would Forrest say if he knew what you were up to?”

“Fuck you,” Alex grumbles, more on principle than anything else.

“Not tonight, baby,” Michael drawls. “It’s your turn.”

With that, Michael spins them around so it’s Alex with his back against the sink and Alex is fairly certain that it’s only by the grace of Michael’s telekinesis that he doesn’t trip over his own feet. He groans when Michael presses in close, as his thigh nudges its way between Alex’s legs for him to grind his hard cock against.

Michael watches him with singleminded focus, his hands on Alex’s hips encouraging him to keep moving against him, until Alex threads his fingers into Michael’s riotous curls and pulls him in for a kiss. It’s desperate and hungry, filled with every ounce of longing he’s felt for Michael just about every fucking day for the last eleven years.

Michael meets him in the middle, his hands on Alex’s hips tightening their grip hard enough to bruise, and in that moment Alex doesn’t even care if Michael leaves a mark so long as he doesn’t stop touching him. Michael rocks against him as they kiss, grinding their hips together through the rough denim of their jeans until the tease is too much to bear.

“Fuck, I want you,” Alex gasps when they part, wishing he was steadier on his feet so he could wrap a leg around Michael’s body and pull him in closer.

“Good thing I have lube then,” Michael says, dipping down to mouth along the sensitive skin of Alex’s neck, careful not to leave a mark. He reaches into his front pocket and pulls out two single-use packets of lube.

Alex’s cock throbs as he stands there, consumed by the thought of Michael working him open in a goddamn public bathroom where anyone—including Forrest, fuck, he’s a terrible person—could hear them.

Alex is turning around in Michael’s arms and grinding his ass back against the bulge in his jeans before the part of his brain still capable of higher reasoning registers that there’s something missing from Michael’s hand.

“Wait—condom?” Alex asks, eyebrow raised at Michael’s reflection in the mirror in front of him—not that Michael can see it where he’s reattached himself to Alex’s neck, his hands dipping low on his belly now that he’s left the lube on the edge of the sink.

Michael shakes his head with a low hum. “All out. We used my last one yesterday.”

“Already? Fuck,” Alex whines, unable to hide his disappointment. Michael just keeps kissing his neck, seemingly unperturbed by this revelation. “We really need to stop doing this.”

That gets a reaction from him.

Michael’s grip on Alex’s hips tightens instinctually, but his voice is carefully light as he retorts, “You don’t mean that.”

God help him, he doesn’t.

“Well then you need to learn to stop at fucking CVS before you make a promise you can’t keep,” Alex argues.

“Who says I can’t keep my promise?” Michael purrs in his ear.

Alex’s breath catches in his throat as he realizes what Michael is suggesting and Michael’s grin widens as he watches Alex start to flush in the mirror.

“You sure seemed to enjoy yourself the last time I fucked you raw,” he continues, voice low and rough as gravel. “You remember?”

Alex huffs an incredulous laugh. Of course he fucking remembers—He’d been twenty two, fresh off his first tour, and just impatient enough to say fuck it after Michael told him he was out of condoms when he showed up at his Airstream unannounced. He came three times that night; twice on Michael’s cock and once more on his tongue when Michael decided he wanted to clean up the mess he’d made himself.

Alex wouldn’t necessarily call it his finest moment of judgment, but it had been terribly, unspeakably hot.

“So, what do you say, Alex?” Michael asks him when he doesn’t respond right away, grinding his hips suggestively forward. “You gonna let me fuck you?”

It’s a terrible idea. Alex knows this. Michael knows this. It’ll be messy for one thing—What’s Alex supposed to do when they’re done, go back to sit with Forrest while Michael’s come leaks into his underwear?—not to mention unsafe, even with how regularly he gets tested and that Michael’s alien biology makes it extremely unlikely that he could catch or transmit anything.

But even in the face of all the reasons Alex should say no, he would be lying if he said he wasn’t fucking desperate for it.

In the end, he lets out a shuddering breath and nods, “Yeah, fuck, do it.”

“That’s my boy,” Michael whispers, and Alex tries not to whimper as Michael dips down once more to press a tender kiss to the edge of his jaw.

Without another word, Michael’s hands slide that little bit further down Alex’s front to find his belt. He makes quick work of the buckle and drags the fabric down his hips to the middle of his thigh.

Michael’s hands are surprisingly gentle as they encourage Alex to turn around to face him, and once he does, Alex rests his lower back against the sink, hands braced on either side of it. Michael presses a soft kiss to his mouth before he drops to his knees, and when he looks up at him through that thick mop of curls, Alex wishes he didn’t look so goddamn pretty down there.

His eyes stay on Michael’s flushed mouth as he leans in toward his bare cock. He watches Michael roll his tongue over the head, already sticky with precome, watches his eyes flutter closed as he groans at the taste. There’s a rapturous look on his face as he softly begins to suck him, the way there always is when Michael goes down on him, but, as good as it feels, they don’t exactly have the time to indulge Michael’s oral fixation right now.

Alex releases his hold on the sink to thread his fingers through Michael’s curls, gripping just tight enough to tug gently on the loose strands.

“We have to hurry,” Alex reminds him. “Forrest’s set starts soon.”

Michael rolls his eyes. He looks like he’s about to complain, but then he’s opening his mouth wider to take him deeper and Alex sort of loses the plot after that.

Lost in the wet, sucking heat of Michael’s mouth, Alex distantly hears the crinkling of a wrapper as Michael tears open the packet of lube and spills some onto his fingers. He doesn’t waste time warming it before he nudges Alex’s legs as far apart as he can and slips his hand between his cheeks.

Alex jumps at the chill as slick fingers find his hole and the corners of Michael’s mouth curl upward around his cock. Alex tightens his grip on his hair just a little in retaliation.

Michael rubs his finger over Alex’s hole, massaging it gently before he tries to breach it with his finger. He slips one inside him as he works his throat around his cock, and it’s not long before Alex’s rim is stretched tight over three of Michael’s fingers.

“Fuck,” Alex keens as Michael crooks his fingers just enough to brush his prostate, his cock throbbing where it sits on Michael’s tongue.

Michael hums and sucks him harder, sending Alex’s eyes rolling back into his skull.

“Michael, stop,” Alex whines, fingers tightening in his curls again. As much as he would love to chase his orgasm in the heat of Michael’s mouth, he’d rather do it on his cock. “M’ready, come on.”

Michael pulls off of Alex with a pop and gently removes his fingers from his ass before he gets up off his knees.

“Turn around,” he says, voice low as he fumbles for the other packet of lube on the sink without taking his eyes off Alex’s face. The intensity of Michael’s attention makes Alex’s heart race with anticipation and he’s helpless against the impulse to surge forward and kiss him again, quick and dirty—just long enough for him to get a taste of his own precome on Michael’s tongue before he’s turning around on unsteady legs and bracing himself against the edge of the sink.

Michael doesn’t make him wait for it. In seconds, he feels the insistent press of Michael’s cock against his hole, slick with lube and precome. Alex bears down on it, gasping as the thick head of it finally works its way passed his rim.

“That’s it, baby, let me in,” Michael murmurs against his ear as he pushes in deeper, his palm charting a soothing path along his flank as Alex tries to relax into the stretch.

Michael’s cock feels so hot inside him without a barrier of latex dulling the sensation, and Alex can’t help but let out the whimper building in his throat as he presses back against it, encouraging Michael to sink in deeper.

“Fuck, ‘Lex,” Michael moans into his neck as he bottoms out, his hips flush against Alex’s ass. “You always feel so fucking good.”

Michael lets Alex adjust for a moment, dotting his skin with soft, wet kisses until he feels him start to shift his hips restlessly. Taking the cue from Alex, he pulls out halfway and snaps his hips forward in one quick movement.

Alex gasps again, pleasure lighting up his spine, and arches his back for more. Michael is all too eager to give it to him, increasing his thrusts in power and speed until Alex is a panting mess, bent over and mewling quietly as his hips bump against the edges of the sink.

Alex doesn’t even realize his eyes have slipped closed until he hears Michael whisper, “God, look at you.”

Alex opens his eyes and catches sight of his reflection in the mirror. He can see every ounce of pleasure he’s feeling reflected back at himself, his brow drawn tight and beaded with sweat, his eyes nearly black with how blown his pupils are. A sudden, sharp moan bursts from his parted lips as the thick head of Michael’s bare cock brushes over his prostate and his eyes jump to Michael’s face in time to watch his mouth spread into a smug grin.

“Right there, huh?” Michael teases, angling his hips to hit that spot again a little more intentionally. Alex groans, his white-knuckle grip on the sink tightening even more. “Bet that feels good, doesn’t it? You want more?”

Alex nods his head, not trusting his voice as he pushes back to meet him thrust for thrust. He’s so close already, and when Michael starts moving faster, his hips slapping against the swell of his ass, Alex has to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from crying out.

“Your boyfriend fuck you this good, ‘Lex?” Michael asks him suddenly, something harsh and maybe a little bitter creeping into his tone. When Alex doesn’t dignify that with a response, he continues, “I bet he doesn’t. You wanna know how I know?”

“Michael,” Alex warns, not wanting to hash this out now, but Michael doesn’t listen, only leans in close until Alex can feel his breath puff against his cheek.

“‘Cause that All American Reject is out there on stage right now,” Michael pants into his ear, “and you’re in here, fucking yourself on my cock like you’re dying for it.”

Alex feels a heady mix of shame and arousal as the garbled sound of Forrest’s spoken word registers distantly in his ears, but he can’t bring himself to care, not when Michael is reaching between his legs and wrapping his hand around his cock. He slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive head, through the precome dripping steadily from his slit. It’s a dizzying counterpoint to Michael’s frantic thrusts and Alex finds himself on the edge in a matter of seconds.

“Oh god,” he moans, the back of his head connecting with Michael’s shoulder as he throws his head backward. He can feel it building inside him, his gut coiling tight with pleasure. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

“Me too,” Michael gasps, the rhythm of his hips growing less coordinated as he desperately chases his own release. “Where do you want it?”

“In me, fuck, Michael, don’t stop,” he replies, too strung out to give a fuck about the consequences.

“Fuck, ‘Lex, I—“ Michael cuts off suddenly as he comes, and it’s the feeling of Michael spilling hot inside him, groaning low in his ear, that sets Alex off, whimpering as he makes a mess of the cracked tile beneath their feet.

As he’s coming down, Alex slumps forward and tries to catch his breath, his forearms braced on the sink in front of him the only thing keeping him from melting into a puddle on the floor. Michael stays a warm weight against his back, as if reluctant to put even an inch of space between them, and Alex can’t say he minds one bit.

Just as Alex is admiring Michael’s sated reflection in the mirror, applause suddenly breaks out from beyond the bathroom door, signaling the end of Forrest’s performance. The two of them flinch back into reality, the spell around them bursting like a bubble.

Alex feels the brush of Michael’s lips against his temple before he stands up straight and slowly begins to pull out. With the high of his orgasm now dissipated, the sensation of Michael’s come leaking out of him when he does is deeply unpleasant and Alex is quick to clean himself up.

By the time Alex refastens his belt around his hips and turns around to face him, Michael is still trying to tame his chaotic curls—a futile effort after all the tugging Alex did when Michael was blowing him. Alex can’t find it in himself to be anything other than charmed.

Michael catches him looking and abandons his work with a smile as he pulls Alex into a kiss, soft and sweeter than Alex is expecting.

Alex sighs into it, his fingers catching Michael’s jaw to keep him there a heartbeat longer, even as he murmurs, “I should go,” when they part, his face still a scant few inches from Michael’s.

Michael lets out a deep, ponderous sigh that Alex feels against his mouth. “You don’t sound like you want to.”

“Do I ever?” he asks before he can stop himself.

Michael pulls back enough to look at Alex’s face. He stares at him for a long moment, eyes searching for something, and Alex feels exposed, like Michael is looking right through him.

“What are we doing, Alex?” he asks at last, voice no louder than a whisper.

Alex looks away, cowed by the question.

He was trying to give Michael and himself space while they figured out who they were now and what they really wanted from each other, but that went out the window weeks ago now, the second a narrow escape from a Project Shepard black site drove Alex to Michael’s doorstep, a USB full of classified research on alien technology held tight between his shaking fingers.

One moment of weakness had turned into many, many more, but with Michael still on the road to sobriety and Alex still running himself ragged trying to take apart the rest of Project Shepard, it just didn’t feel like the right time to try to chart out their future together. They agreed that keeping things casual and non-exclusive was the safer option for now, that they could give each other something of the closeness they craved without adding in the pressure of being in a real, committed relationship just yet.

But even as he has that thought, Alex can’t help but hear how ridiculous it sounds. There’s nothing casual about the way Alex brings Michael dinner when he knows he’s too wrapped up in an experiment to remember to feed himself, or the way Michael fixed the automatic setting on Alex’s temperamental espresso machine last week so he could get a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning. They might have told themselves they weren’t ready for a relationship, but, if he’s being really honest with himself, they’re already halfway there.

And as Alex looks at Michael once more and sees the twin hope and trepidation in his whiskey-toned eyes, he can’t help but think, What the hell are we waiting for?

“Alex?” Michael asks again, head cocked to the side, still waiting for his answer.

“I don’t know,” Alex tells him honestly. “But… I think I’m ready to have that talk now.”

Michael takes his meaning immediately. “Really?” he asks, his eyes lighting up.

“Yeah,” Alex answers, and the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth is quickly smothered when Michael surges forward to kiss him again. Alex is happy to let him, his heart swelling in his chest with emotions he’s no longer afraid of feeling.

“Just not here, okay?” Alex continues when they part. Public bathrooms really aren’t the best place for long overdue love confessions and Alex is pretty sure he’s got an angry not-boyfriend to deal with outside. “Meet me at my place in an hour.”

“An hour?” Michael pouts dramatically. It’s unfairly adorable.

Alex laughs in spite of himself before pulling Michael closer. “We’ve waited eleven years for this,” he reminds him. “I think we can make it another sixty minutes.”

“If you insist,” he sighs, but he’s smiling as he presses another kiss to Alex’s cheek. “I’ll see you there.”

Alex watches him leave, nerves buzzing in his stomach as he anticipates the conversation he’s about to have with Forrest.

His worrying turns out to be for nothing, though—When Alex finally exits the bathroom, Forrest is nowhere to be found. A little asking around tells him he put his drinks on Alex’s tab and left as soon as his performance was over.

Alex can’t help but feel a little bad about hurting him, but as he pulls up to his house twenty minutes later to see Michael’s truck already parked in his driveway, the man himself perched on the edge of his tailgate with his feet kicking restlessly at the air, he knows he’s made the right choice.

Because so what if he wakes up in the morning to a few angry texts from Forrest? He’ll also have the love of his life snoring softly beside him and another thirty minutes to kill before his coffee is ready, and Alex is determined to never take either of those things for granted ever again.

#malex #malex fic #malex smut #michael guerin #alex manes #aaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh i hope you guys like this #it's not exactly how i imagined it in the beginning but i got tired of angst so lol here you go #my fic

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codenamed-queenie · 5 years ago

Text

#BatsInQuarantine

I am going insane. So I poured my restlessness into one long and very detailed post and got super into it. Please enjoy this hot mess.

The Justice League, being the well-meaning virus-proof Super Friends that they are, took one good look at the news, one good look at their non-powered friends Ollie, Bruce, and their families, and collectively decided that these normal humans must be Protected At All Costs.

Now, keep in mind, Bruce is never one to roll over when it comes to being benched.

However, he understands the importance of social distancing. He knows he needs to set a good example for his kids, and keep up appearances as Gotham’s Most Responsible Multi-Billionaire.

So. Quarantine it is.

But how are his kids handling it?

Dick -

100% on board in the beginning. Gotta do the Responsible Thing. Gotta set a Good Example. Besides, guys, this is gonna be Fun. Quality Family Time is always a Must.

He lasted 2 days.

Then he started to get twitchy.

And as everyone knows? A Trapped Dick Grayson is a Feral Dick Grayson.

He bounces off the walls.

Literally.

“I have to climb.”

“Dick, no.”

“I have to climb everything.”

Has scaled the manor 16 times already. Has climbed the chandelier. The banister. Bruce. The roof. The Cave. Anything in the house that’s been bolted down and especially anything that hasn’t.

Duke found him clinging to the wall 10 ft off the ground like Spiderman and screamed so loud it shattered glass.

Desperate for news of the outside.

He thrives off of it like a starving man.

Was the one to suggest he and Barbara take a break to Social Distance from each other (”Sorry, babe, kissing spreads germs”) and experienced Instant Regret(TM) approximately 5 minutes after.

The Family has labelled him a Flight Risk Level 1 (Most likely to say f**k it and make a break for the outside world)

Jason -

Accidentally got trapped inside the manor with the others when Bruce called Shutdown. If he had his way, he’d be chilling in his favorite safe-house right now, binging The Witcher with Roy and Artemis, and not worrying about finding a stray brother in his sock drawer.

But he’s nothing if not an opportunist.

The way he sees it, Jason has 3 options:

Self Improvement

Self Isolation (See Duke, Cass, and Damian)

Descension Into Madness (See Dick and Steph)

And, well, he always wanted to try a few things. Now he’s got the free time to do it.

So he settles on baking.

Alfred’s got enough food and raw ingredients stored up to feed an army. (Not because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder in times like these. But because he’s a Panic-Buying-Hoarder all the time. Just try feeding 11+ teenagers sometime.)

Uses recipes he finds off Google.

His first few attempts are, in a word, ‘tragic’.

Alfred slips him a few of his recipe cards, and Jason suddenly starts seeing Results.

Turns out he’s pretty good at this baking thing once he gets the hang of it.

Hope everyone’s okay eating nothing but pie, macaroons, biscuits, and whatever else Jason whips up.

Cause that’s gonna be the only food left by the time he’s done.

Barbara -

Self-quarantined with her dad.

They’ve been binge-watching classic black and white movies together.

It’s a fun time, but she’s started to get a little antsy. Loving her dad and wanting to be around him 24/7 are, understandably, mutually exclusive.

Calls the manor to video-chat every day.

For her sanity just as much as theirs.

Gives everyone little challenges to film on their phones and send in. She makes compilations of everyone’s submissions so they can all watch and laugh together.

Bonus points for Creativity

One comp shows the family trying to drop Mentos into coke bottles.

Dick did a handstand, and dropped his Mento from the second story balcony.

Tim did it wearing the Batman cowl. The soda exploded into his face, and the rest of the video is just Bruce’s Shrieking.

Stephanie tried it, but the bottle tipped. Everyone on camera screamed as the bottle rocketed through the front window.

She spends most of her calls having one-on-one convos with Dick.

They’ve come up with little code phrases so they can be Cheesy even with family members lurking in the background.

She thinks the way he clings to the monitor is cute.

Almost like he’s giving her a hug through the screen.

(It’s easier than letting herself worry about his mental state, at least)

Tim -

Oh this boy.

Freaked out for the first five minutes before he decided ‘hey wait, Bruce is letting me stay in my pajamas all day? Noice.’

Now he’s just vibing.

The rest of his family is Low-Key shielding him.

He Has No Spleen, you see.

Steph: “Someone could cough on him and he could die!”

He just goes about his day, playing Animal Crossing like there’s no tomorrow, tinkering on projects, taking naps, etc. Living his best life.

Meanwhile there’s always someone lurking behind him, keeping watch, keeping him safe.

Dick sneezed within 5 feet of Tim once (the fact that he was on top of the dusty bookshelf Tim was perusing is irrelevant)

Jason still full-body tackled him the second Tim’s back was turned.

No one with any symptoms--

Like, any symptoms. They don’t even have to be Corona-related.

--is allowed within 10 feet of Tim.

Tim has been wandering the manor for weeks, now, without seeing another human being.

(He sees Dick on the ceiling sometimes, but that doesn’t really count)

He’s been trying increasingly drastic pranks and shenanigans to draw someone, anyone, out.

But it doesn’t matter how many times he steals Damian’s sword, or sets fire to Jason’s brownie bites.

Nobody wants to risk it.

Cass -

No one has seen her since quarantine started.

Everyone is approximately 87% sure she’s somewhere in the manor though

Because she does eat the meals Alfred leaves out for her.

Or at least someone does, at any rate.

(Jason and Santa top the running suspects list)

Santa was Steph’s suggestion. For some reason it snowballed.

It’s assumed that Cass misunderstood the meaning of ‘social distancing’ and took it too far.

But no one knows for sure.

She is Tim’s Guardian Angel.

People who so much as clear their throats a little too loudly anywhere near him suddenly wake up on a different floor of the house four hours later.

Duke came closest to spotting her while he was up in the attic.

Either that, or there’s another Creepy Sister everyone forgot to tell him about living up there.

She is silent, and watchful, sticking to the shadows, but she does leave the occasional note out to brighten her siblings’ day.

Things like ‘helo i love u’ and ‘hop u ar ok’ mostly.

She is bound and determined to protect her family from this invisible threat, no matter the cost.

Steph -

Like Dick, she was Super Pumped at first.

(Just kind of showed up at Wayne Manor before quarantine was enacted. The original purpose of her visit is unclear, but regardless, she’s Trapped.)

Also Like Dick, her descent into madness was swift.

She is impossible to pin down.

Not like Cass or Damian, who’ve stayed off the grid, and are therefore Untraceable.

No. She’s impossible to pin down, because she never stops moving.

Switches seamlessly between Zumba on top of the Giant Dinosaur in the Batcave, and furiously knitting Alfred (the Cat) a sweater with a pair of Tim’s used chopsticks.

Braided everyone’s hair while they were asleep.

Even Bruce’s.

She tried to do Tim’s, but somehow blacked out and regained consciousness in the attic.

When she woke up with a scream and a furiously twitching eye, she startled Duke out of his Makeshift Fort he built out of old cardboard boxes and antique furniture. He’s had to resort to finding a new hiding place.

Sometimes, on the rare occasions she does sit still, staring off into the distance, she’ll suddenly start laughing hysterically. This may last between thirty seconds and thirty minutes, depending entirely on how long it’s been since she’s knitted a cat sweater or done cartwheels through every room in the house.

Blew up the greenhouse out back, somehow.

Everyone has agreed not to talk about it.

Some people were built to handle prolonged time inside their homes.

Stephanie Brown is not that way.

Damian -

Damian Wayne Cannot Be Contained.

At least not inside the house.

He took off thirty-six hours into quarantine.

Thanks to the security equipment around the borders of the Wayne Estate, he can’t escape the grounds.

(He’s tried and failed multiple times. Jason and Bruce have a running bet on how many times the perimeter alarms will go off per day.)

(Jason is winning.)

He wanders the grounds with Titus as his only companion.

The two of them run laps, practice drills, and find ways to occupy their time.

No one’s entirely sure what those ways are.

In fact, nobody knows exactly where Damian is at any given time.

Only that he is Out There.

And he’s the best security system Wayne Manor’s ever had.

So far, he’s stopped five groups of civilians scaling the perimeter walls before the lasers and electric nets even have a chance to deploy.

They were trying to break in and steal supplies.

(Even ones they already had in surplus. Like Toilet Paper.)

He’s also stopped Dick from escaping twelve (12) times.

Drags him back by his shirt collar and deposits him on the welcome mat.

Usually with a note for Alfred/Jason, requesting more fruit tarts.

Duke -

Did not leave the attic for two weeks.

Then Steph discovered his hiding spot (read: was dumped there by Cassandra) which forced him to relocate to the basement.

Yes, it turns out Wayne Manor does have a basement.

This was a surprise to Duke, who always thought that the Batcave was Bruce Wayne’s basement.

Alfred keeps him supplied with all the necessities:

i.e. food, magazines, assorted pastries from Jason’s latest batch, usually straight out of the oven.

Duke also snagged the Manor’s Alexa.

She has become a sort of ‘Wilson’ to Duke’s ‘Chuck Noland’.

She is his only comfort. His only ally.

He’s determined to wait out this quarantine, doing his best to avoid the others.

Duke has seen these people under pressure.

He knows exactly what he’s dealing with.

Duke: “Alexa is the only motherf****r in this madhouse I ever respected.”

*offended butler noises from the other room*

Duke: “And also Alfred.”

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