#fic: collision of masks

[ifyoucandaniel]

I want to thank you for making your list of recommended long batfam fics. I have been making my way through it and I am really enjoying them! ESPECIALLY cards on the table (I also love Dark Matter but I had already read it). Please let us know if you ever get more long batfam fic recs 🥺

okay so ive been waiting to answer this until i had gathered a good chunk of new long fics and ive been getting a lot of similar messages asking for recommendations, so here is another list of my fav long batman fics!

Jason and the Three Terrors by @cdelphiki, 220k, ongoing, T. if i can get you to read one thing, let it be this. ohhh my god where to even begin, this is a fic where jason stays with the league after his dip in the lazarus pit for a little while and winds up being charged with getting damian, his cousin, and his sister out of the league safely. this fic is just so fucking good, cdelphiki always writes such seamless relationship growth and watching jason go from "im dropping these brats off first chance i get" to "im a single mother of three and i need to provide for my kids" is phenomenal. 1000/10, the writing, the kids, the relationships, please do yourself a favor and read this.

A Collision of Masks by Movaz, 169k, completed, T. !! guys. this is such a good dick grayson-centric fic. this is set in an AU where batman never joined the justice league so the justice league knows very little about batman inc. and consequently dick never joins YJ so the YJ team is tasked with checking out a new hero called nightwing in bludhaven and police officer grayson is tasked with helping the team in their investigation :) really good fic exploring dick juggling all his identities and finally gaining people he can rely on! i actually did a bind of it so you know i love this story so much

Life Happens by @cdelphiki, 176k, complete, G. ok so this fic is probably one of the most beautiful stories of growth and love i've read. its about tim and damian being transported from their world into ours where they're only comic book characters and they start to build a life for themselves here. cdelphiki is one of the most amazing authors, im currently going through all of their works, but this one has just stayed with me and i dont think anyone should pass it up. watching tim and damian grow together and seeing damian have a real childhood and just the whole concept of life happening wether you want it to or not is so beautifully done. cannot recommend enough.

Honoring Promises by LananiA3O, completed, 14k, T. okay this isnt actually a long fic, but its one of my favorite fics ever and i need it on this list. if you're like me and you love UTRH aus where instead of sticking around as red hood after bruce threw a batarang at his throat jason fucks off and disappears to live a normal life, this is for you. from dick's pov, he realizes jasons last letter was a last attempt at reaching out and stalks him until he finds out what really happened to his little brother. i think about this every day and wish it was 10000 words long

The Time Before by @cdelphiki, 80k, completed, G. at this point this is basically just a cdelphiki fic rec lmao when i said everything by them was good, i meant that shit. this is a fic where jason is sent back into time when he was 9 years old but still has all his memories from the future. he goes to bruce for help despite wanting to do literally anything else and is surprised to realize maybe everything isn't how he remembers it 10 years in the future and maybe theres a chance he can go home when hes older again. once again cdelphiki hitting me in the feels with this one, really amazing study on how time and pain can change how you perceive and remember things and also just forgiveness and fixing mistakes and accepting mistakes were made. very good, highly recommend

Good Fences Make Good Neighbors by Sophene, 80k, completed, batlantern, T. I have no excuse for this, this is such a fun and funny fic i love it so much. basically HOA president single dad bruce with his 10 million adopted kids and then hal jordan moves in next door and plays his music too loud at 10pm on a school night and throws parties and bruce has a stick up his ass about it. i really really love the shift in hal when kyle comes to live with him as his ward (? i cant actually remember if hes adopted or just a ward) and seeing him finally understand why bruce acts the way he does when it comes to his kids. also seeing bruce just being a tired dad 90% of the fic when he isnt glaring at hal is so good.

Option C by CasualGeek, 78k, completed, T. this has, in my opinion, a very unique and interesting premise. basically, what if instead of becoming red hood, jason comes back to gotham and manages to get Joker put on trial for the murder of sheila haywood and get the insanity plea thrown out. really interesting approach to batman and joker and jason technically doing things through the legal justice system and what that means for him and the people around him. very good, read it all in one sitting

butcherbird, fly away home by e_va, 41k, completed, M. lost days jason todd loml! basically what if when jason was off on his world tour one of his tutors kidnapped bruce wayne and jason has feelings about it against his will. "what if lost days jason was stuck in the same room as a sick bruce for more than 10 minutes and actually had to talk to him without punching him" AU and i throughly enjoyed it. @darlingatlas recommended this one and she never misses with the jason recs

this kind of weather by r_astra, 55k, completed, T. this is the fic something in the static was originally inspired by and if you know me, i love that series, and i love this fic too. another what if jasons mom didnt die until later and social services gets involved before he can bolt and bruce seeks him out with some very interesting news. i love fics that display jason’s relationship with crime alley and him being one of them. very good, i love jason so much

ok now these aren't actually long fics but i need to get them out here because i love them so much and highly recommend!

To My Brother by a_silly_gander, 7k, completed, T. Lost days jason au where he starts sending post cards from his travels to dick on a whim while we follow his time away and the people he meets. i love this one so much, please read it if you love jason and dick, its so special to me.

Enhanced Fashion Sense is a Perk of Being a Cat by 12pt_timesnewromanfont, 23k, complete, G. selina breaks into drake manor to steal a cat artifact and accidentally meets the drakes ten year old son they left home alone. then she starts keeping tabs on him and eventually adopts him and makes him stray. i really love selina finding tim before bruce and taking care of him <3 10/10 i wish selina would adopt me

[andreafmn]

Collision | Chapter 25

Word Count: 3.8K

Story Description: (Y/N) Uley is back home after being away for four years. Her life is at its first standstill and she is taking this time to find out who she is without school. But she never thought that coming back to the reservation would turn her whole life around. In the midst of secrets and mystery, a man crashes into (Y/N)’s and her life will never be the same.

A/N: I cannot believe two of my Twilight fics are coming to and end (just their first books) I'm excited and a little scared, but also so grateful for everyone that has stuck around these past couple of years with them. Hope I see y'all on the next books as well. 💖💖 Also, I need to stop making characters just for the plot and then falling in love with them when I know how things will end up 🫣🫣

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The next day, (Y/N) was supposed to go back to work as though nothing had happened. She had to pretend Alice had not come to town or taken Bella off to Italy without her father knowing. That Edward wasn’t planning on taking his life because of a girl he had left for dead half a year before. That Harry had not passed under her hands only two days before. And she had to pretend that she didn’t know Carlisle was gone, that she wasn’t the only one he had walked away from.

But pretending was something she had gotten used to. Putting on a mask was the first thing she had learned when she was younger. She had faked being happy for so long that truly feeling it became intoxicating. And once it had been taken from her, she collapsed.

Still, falling back into usual patterns of behavior was easy enough to do.

She had gotten up that morning and left her mother a plate of breakfast before heading to the hospital. There, she walked the halls with a kind smile on her face and her mouth muttering thank you to everyone who offered their condolences. It was much too easy to pretend she was fine.

“I heard you went by the Clearwater house,” (Y/N) smiled as she noticed Eden walking into the locker room while she slipped on her white coat. “You didn’t have to do that, but thank you. I wish I had stayed longer to have seen you.”

“I thought it’d be good to pay my respects,” he said. “It was a hard-hitting case.”

“Well, thank you. Not many people would have done that.”

“Yeah, of course,” he smiled, hiding the redness that was creeping onto his face with the door of his locker. “I, uh, wasn’t expecting you back today. I thought Davis gave you the rest of the week off.”

“I’d go crazy if I had nothing to do,” (Y/N) sighed. “Work will keep my head busy enough.”

“Hm,” was all Eden responded as he left his things in his locker and slipped on his own coat.

(Y/N) couldn’t help as her eyes lingered over Eden’s body. She stared at the way his navy scrubs clung to his figure, the seams of his sleeves stretching to their limits as his arms flexed before they were covered by the white coat. It was something she had only noticed she had been doing about a month before.

Somewhere along the way, she had begun staring, listening, remembering a little more. (Y/N) found herself noticing Eden a lot more than she had ever any man before, apart from one. Even as he seemingly held only disdain for her in the beginning, she couldn’t help the way she’d gravitated toward him. Thankfully, she had a reason to follow him around, but she knew that somehow, she’d do it regardless.

“(Y/N)!” His voice broke her out of her trance, a teasing grin splayed on his face. “All good?”

“Oh, uh, yes,” she stammered as she composed herself. “Morning rounds. Coming.”

“Seriously, if you need to take time off, you can,” he muttered softly, making the girl’s heart hammer rapidly against her chest. “You shouldn’t jump back in if you’re not ready yet.”

“I’m fine, seriously,” (Y/N) smiled, trying her best to subside the warmth that was overtaking her face. “I just zoned out for a second. I promise I’m ready.”

“Alright, then.” Eden conceded. “But if you need to tap out at any point, please let me know. Don’t keep it to yourself.”

“Yeah, okay. Thanks, Dr. Mollins.”

“Come on, (Y/N),” he grinned, “I think we’re past formalities when we’re off the clock.”

“Alright, then. Thanks, Eden.”

The Uley girl didn’t understand when her mind had shifted. Though she did focus on work and gave her everything to her patients, she found herself seeking Eden out. Since the shift between them from two days before, she felt comfortable seeing the man in a whole new light.

She had found herself liking the way he laughed, the way he smiled, even the way he stood. And, she thought, maybe that was the reason she had pushed the thought of Carlisle to the deepest, darkest corners of her mind. When she was around him, she didn’t spare a single thought about the vampire. Not even in the days after she had learned of the immortal’s disappearance.

Her heart did ache, she couldn’t lie. There was a constant tightening in her chest that she ignored every second of every day. But that was as far as it went. Maybe it meant she was healing. Maybe it was simply because she had not seen Carlisle. A part of her knew the answer. The part that she tried to silence so long ago with alcohol and distractions. The part she would continue to ignore until it was too much to bear.

But (Y/N) could do it. She could push down the overwhelming connection she had with Carlisle and allow herself to build something different with someone else. If Carlisle hadn’t cared enough about her to stay, she wouldn’t care enough to find him—at least, she knew she shouldn’t. And the girl always loved the rational side of her brain. It had kept her safe for long enough.

It was that side that kept her moving forward. The part that allowed her to go on day by day as though nothing affected her. It allowed her to lie to Charlie when he called about his daughter, allowed her to fix the strain she’d created in her relationship with Paul, and allowed her to set her gaze on someone else. If Carlisle was allowed to turn his feelings off and not care about the consequences, then so could she.

And for the past couple of days, that’s what she did.

(Y/N) had regained some momentum in her life. After allowing herself to feel what had been bringing her down, she decided to shift gears. She focused on her work, her school, and her family. And when she wasn’t focusing on that, she focused on Eden.

For those coming days, the pair that had seemed not to want anything to do with each other now could not seem to leave each other’s side. After squashing any animosity that had lived between them, they quickly realized how much they had in common. From their academic upbringings to the music they listened to while they relaxed. For the first time in more than half a year, the girl felt flutters building in her chest, and everything seemed to be settling in for her.

Yet, in all normal fashion, that didn’t last long.

“Did you know?” (Y/N) heard through the phone four days after Bella had left with Alice. “Did you know they were coming back?”

“What are you talking about, Sam?”

“The Cullens,” he seethed. “They’re all back. Just moved into their house.”

(Y/N) felt her hands begin to shake. She’d had a feeling when Bella had gone that this could have been an outcome. But—silly her, thinking rationally—she believed they’d keep truth in their word and never come back. “I-I didn’t,” she stammered nervously. “Are you sure? I mean, I know Alice came for a visit…”

“You didn’t know, (Y/N)?” Sam questioned softly this time, hearing the panic in his sister’s voice. “I thought they’d at least give you a heads up about it.”

“No, I… but… last I heard, Edward was on a suicide mission, and Bella and Alice went to save him,” she said. “But she didn’t say anything about them coming back.”

“Damn, I’m sorry, Bean. I thought you knew,” he sighed. “The older woman called and said they were moving back in last night.”

The girl didn’t know how to react. Clearly, she hadn’t meant enough to any of them to be given notice about things that directly affected her. Maybe she hadn’t put her life in enough danger because of him for them to care. Maybe they never cared at all. “Is, uh, is he…” she tried to ask but couldn’t find the words. “Is he, you know…” 

“I don’t know, Bean,” Sam responded quietly. “All she told me was that the family was back, so the treaty needed to stand. But that’s as far as my knowledge goes.”

“Well, uh, I was just on my way into the hospital. I guess I’ll let you know if he’s there.”

“Are you sure you should be doing this, (Y/N)?” her brother worried. “Why don’t you take the day off?”

“I-I can’t. It’s better if I just go on as though nothing has changed.”

“(Y/N), you don’t have to always be strong,” he reminded her. “You’re allowed to step away if you need to.”

“I know, Sam. But I already gave enough of myself for them,” she stated. “It’s about time I start to reclaim those parts back.”

“Just… let me know if you need anything,” Sam offered. “Treaty be damned, I’ll be there in a moment’s notice.”

“Thanks, Sam. I appreciate it.”

“Alright then, go kill it, doc.”

With a semblance of confidence, (Y/N) walked into the hospital, but it wasn’t long before her heart started rushing. If the Cullens were truly back, it could mean that at any given moment, those golden eyes that had cemented themselves into her brain could be staring right back at her. Everything she had done to push him into the deepest, darkest corners of her mind could unravel with just one look.

Luckily, she made it all the way to the locker room without a glance of the man. Everything in the Forks hospital seemed the same as it had for the past six months. If the Cullens had come back, the doctor had not been by the building.

For a second, she thought when she opened the doors that he’d be standing there, slipping on his white coat and flashing her that damned smile. Instead, she found Eden already inside, getting ready for his shift. And if he could tell that something was awry with (Y/N), he did not say.

Yet, everything he said sounded far away for the girl. She knew he was speaking because she could hazily see his mouth moving, but she couldn’t quite process his words. To appear alright, she went through the motions—putting her bag away, slipping on her coat, draping the stethoscope around her neck. She had to appear fine because she was fine.

“(Y/N),” Eden’s voice finally broke through her trance. “Are you okay? You don’t look so good.”

“Yeah,” she croaked before clearing her throat. “I just didn’t sleep well last night.”

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “The offer still stands for you to take another day off. What happened…”

“No, I’m fine, Eden. I promise,” she smiled. “I just wanna get through the day.”

“Alright then. Let’s go.” 

But before they could make their patient rounds, a nurse stopped (Y/N) in her tracks. “There’s someone asking for your, Dr. Uley,” he said. “They’re waiting for you in Dr. Cullen’s old office.” 

“Oh, um, did you happen to catch a name?”

“Sorry, no,” the nurse answered. “But it’s a lady with long brown hair and these like dark golden eyes. She said you know who she is.”

And, of course, she did. “Thanks, Max,” the girl smiled. “I’ll be right over.”

“Guess we’ll start rounds without you,” Eden said as the nurse took off.  “You know what this is about?”

“Yeah. Unfortunately so.”

There weren’t many people in the world that could ever fit the description the nurse had given. In her lifetime, she’d only met two, and only one of them had long hair.

(Y/N) felt sort of ambushed as she walked the trail she knew far too well. The hospital was one of the only places where any of them could seek her out, and she’d have nowhere to go. It was the perfect place to force her into an unwanted conversation. And she had an idea what it was that the woman wanted to talk to her about.

Inside the office, Esme was staring out the window when (Y/N) walked in, a trembling in her limbs she could not stop. Unlike seeing Alice, there wasn’t a surge of anger that rushed inside her. Maybe it was the dark circles forming under Esme’s darkening eyes, or the worry lines that had seemed to cement themselves in the furrow of her worried eyebrows, but (Y/N) could only feel concern.

The woman’s usual radiant beauty had dwindled, replaced by a darkening gloom that seemed to follow her like a dark cloud. It was one thing to ignore Alice’s appeal to find the patriarch of the Cullen family, but it was another to have the one person who had been moving heaven and hell to find him plead with nothing but her eyes. She had yet to utter a word, and (Y/N) already knew.

“You look well,” Esme spoke softly, frozen on the spot she stood. “Can’t say the same for this room, huh?”

“It’s been empty ever since,” she said without reciprocity of a laugh to the woman’s attempt at a lighthearted joke. “The hospital hasn’t really been able to fill the role.”

“Oh, well, I’m sure they’ll hire someone soon.”

“I think we’re past the amicable chit-chat, Esme,” (Y/N) sighed. “Just tell me what you’ve come to say.”

“I guess there’s no point beating around the bush,” the woman smiled sadly. “I’m guessing you already know that Carlisle is missing.”

“She blurted out something about that but didn’t really give me much more information on it. It wasn’t like she wanted me to find out—at least not in the way I did. But it’s not like you’ve all been very communicative these past few months.”

Esme was hesitant with her next words, taken aback by the bite in (Y/N)’s tone. She understood where her anger came from, and she had every right to feel that way. But the worry she felt for the man who had been her partner in life for so many years transcended the shame she felt for the way she and her family had treated the girl. “Alright, (Y/N). I know there are many apologies that we owe you, and I know they will never be enough. But, from the bottom of my heart, you have to know how sorry I am for what’s happened and the part I played in it,” the woman started. “But I’ve come today to plead for your help in finding Carlisle.”

“I’m sorry, Esme, but what makes you think that I’d have any idea how to find him?” (Y/N) said as she crossed her arms in front of her chest. Neither woman took a single step from their positions, leaving a cold distance between them—maybe out of anger, possibly just in self-preservation. “If a family of supernatural vampires can’t find him, how would I? I don’t even know how he disappeared.”

“We had just settled in our house in Ithaca when he said he was going to meet an old friend of his and we never saw him again,” she said. “I don’t want to burden you with how he was on that day, but he wasn’t himself, (Y/N). I have never seen him as defeated as he was then, and I am worried that he may have done something as dumb or worse than Edward. I have a very strong lead and someone who is quite certain that she can find him, but I know he won’t come back to us. I know it’s not my place to ask, and I understand if you want to turn me down, but I am begging you, even if it’s just to hear my friend out, just come by the house to talk.”

(Y/N) wanted to answer with a flat-out no or maybe say that she wasn’t like Bella and she wouldn’t drop everything in her life to save the man who had ripped her heart to shreds. But, at that very moment, she understood the Swan girl. She knew she had the power to show Carlisle the decency he had denied her, that she had the power to return a father to his family regardless of what he had done to her because at least some of them didn’t deserve the pain of losing him.

Still, there was a voice inside her head that tempted her to make them all pay for the torment she had gone through after they left. Even if the way she reacted to heartbreak wasn’t their fault, she couldn’t help but blame them for the indelible pain they had planted in her heart.

Before she could say anything, Esme added to her plea, sadness clinging to her every feature. “Look, (Y/N), I know this is a lot to ask, especially with how everything went down,” she said. “But all I am asking you is to just talk to my friend. Before you make any decision, just talk to her. Please.” 

“I can’t promise you that I will, Esme. I just… I need some time to think about this. It’s a lot to just throw on someone.” 

“Of course! Yes. Take the time you need,” the woman exclaimed. “Just please consider what I’ve said.”

“I, uh, I’ll try,” (Y/N) said. “But right now, I need to get back to work. I’ll call you once I’ve made my decision.”

“Yes, of course,” Esme muttered. “Again, I am so sorry.”

“Yeah, thanks,” she forced a smile. “I’ll see you around, I guess.”

(Y/N) turned before Esme could say another word. She was completely overwhelmed and could feel her anger and resentment bubbling inside her. Her eyes stung from tears she refused to let spill, and all she wanted was to break down.

Carlisle had not only broken her heart, but he had made some statements that she still carried with her. At one point, he had made her feel a happiness she’d never thought possible. He had sold her a life full of love and enchantment. Yet, in one conversation, he had shattered every illusion and dream she had created with him. He had shown her that someone could pretend to love you one minute and completely break your spirit the next.

But even knowing just how heartless Carlisle could be, she couldn’t help the worry that snuck into her heart. If he truly was in trouble, if he was gambling with his life, she didn’t think she’d be able to live with herself if she didn’t at least help. Unlike him, she couldn’t just turn off the love and care she’d had—still had—for the man. She especially couldn’t allow the family to live with the pain of losing someone they considered a father figure. (Y/N) knew far too well the anguish that came from losing a father, and she didn’t wish that torment on anyone—even her worst enemy.

“Hey, was everything okay?” Eden asked as they took their lunch break, a mask of concern clouding his face. “You seemed in your head when you came back for rounds.”

“I mean, it’s not not okay,” she shrugged, her gaze stuck on the plate before her. “It was… an old friend, I guess.”

“You’re not sure if she was a friend?” he chuckled softly, trying his best to lift the girl’s spirits.

“She was,” she smiled sadly. “She just came to ask for my help with something, and I’m not sure if I want to do it.”

“What did she ask for? If I may ask.”

“It’s a weird, long, and complicated issue,” she sighed. “But long story short, she needs my help with my ex. He’s been… different since the breakup, and he might be in some trouble, and she thinks I’m the only one that can help.”

“Oh,” Eden grimaced. “That is a long and complicated issue. I’m guessing there’s a bit of bad blood there.”

“Something like that,” she chuckled dryly. “He did and said some things in the breakup that cut deep, essentially…”

“But you still care for him.”

“Not just him. His family, too. They’re basically lost without their father.” (Y/N) noticed the realization in Eden’s eyes. The rumor that she had been with the town’s most acclaimed doctor had not died in people’s mouths, and she knew it was only a matter of time before he heard it, too. “I’m guessing you’ve heard what people have said about me and our last head doctor.”

“I won’t lie, I heard some whispers about that,” he confessed, “but I didn’t want to jump to conclusions.”

“Well, you’re the first person other than my family to have it confirmed, but yes, Dr. Cullen and I were in a relationship before he left, and it was quite serious. Just not serious enough for him to ask me to go with him when he moved,” she explained, trying her best to keep everything to a minimum detail. “We didn’t end on good terms, and I am unbelievably mad at him. But I also don’t want anything bad to happen to him. Am I crazy for that?”

“Of course not, (Y/N),” Eden stated. He placed a comforting hand over hers, stopping the picking she hadn’t noticed she’d been doing. It was a touch she didn’t know she needed. As he drew circles with his thumb over her knuckles, she could feel herself calming down. “He was a big part of your life regardless of how he chose to end things, and you care about what happens to him because you are a good person. How could you be crazy for that?”

“Would you do it? If someone that hurt you needed your help, would you?”

“I’d like to say I would,” he said. “But I guess it’s more of a question if I’d be okay with not helping them in the long run.”

“Is it bad if I say I don’t know?” the girl worried. “Part of me wants to think that I wouldn’t care what happens to him, but there is a big part that knows that I would.”

“(Y/N), whatever you choose has to be the right decision for you. Helping this guy can’t be about him or his family. It has to be about how you will feel when you face him and if it is something you’ll be able to do without putting yourself in harm’s way.”

Those words took her aback. She had been thinking of the Cullens and their feelings; she had been thinking of Carlisle and his betrayal, but she hadn’t stopped to think of what would happen if she allowed herself to see him again. (Y/N) didn’t want the family to hurt, but she didn’t know if her wounds were closed enough for her to be selfless and save Carlisle from whatever danger he had placed himself into.

Whatever road she decided to take had to be the right one for her and no one else. No matter how much she cared for the Cullen family and didn’t want them to lose Carlisle, her decision could not be at the detriment of her own heart. They had put her through enough, and she wasn’t sure there was anything left to give to them.

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[kairiscorner]

Hii! No need to rush but could you do a fic where the reader is also a spider-person and gets sucked into Miles’ dimension just like in itsv and noir and them get a long really well and end up being shipped by the rest? I think it’d be quite cute :D also sorry if this isn’t that elaborate ToT

hiya anon !! ╰(⸝⸝⸝´꒳`⸝⸝⸝)╯ dw about it !! i just hope you like this <:))

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

well, this was certainly a conundrum. the flashing lights of brooklyn practically blinded you, coupled with the sudden sounds and buzzing from the people, establishments, and cars passing by. you were disoriented, your spider sense was out of whack for the time being, and you could only wonder, 'this isn't my city... where am i?'

you aimlessly wandered around the city, accidentally bumping into people here and there, almost getting run over when you missed the green pedestrian light, and bumping into a few too many streetlamps. you hated how familiar yet foreign this city felt to you; one minute, you minding your own business while swinging around your city, doing your rounds and all. but as you were swinging... you felt yourself gravitate to something. everything else around you--leaves, newspapers, plastic bags, even you yourself were getting drawn to this force.

it turned out to be a portal that opened up from somewhere else into your world; and try as you might to resist it and its pull, you were eventually sucked in and thrown into this city. "what i would give to... find someone who had the slightest clue about what the hell is--oomph!" you exclaimed as you felt a slight tingle crawl up through your shoulders, raise the hairs on your arms and the back of your neck, but the sudden collision between you and what felt like a tall man had interrupted that sense of yours from telling you what, or who, exactly was in front of you.

"oh, good heavens, you okay there?" asked a gentlemanly, kind of dapper-sounding voice. the man you bumped into held you up, with you eventually clinging on to him as you nearly fell over due to how disoriented you were from this new city's endlessly bright lights and loud noises. "i'm fine... sorry." you murmured as the man held you up and dusted you off a little. you got a better look of the guy and he tipped his fedora a little, and you noticed when you glanced at his attire from head to toe, you felt the tingle again through your bones this time--and you could tell he did, too.

"you're like me." you both announced in unison. you sighed in relief and felt yourself smile from underneath your mask. "yeah! yeah, i am, and you are! ok, um... do you have any clue where we are?" you asked him, hoping the monochrome man in the trench coat and fedora had any idea where you two were, but it seemed he was just as lost as you were. "i'm afraid i'm in the dark about this whole place too. i was kind of hoping someone would come along and show me around, but i guess the universe is too much of a joker to take peter parker seriously." he said with a slight chuckle as you sighed in disappointment, now.

"well... guess we're both lost, parker, was it?" you asked him with a raised eyebrow as he tipped his fedora again and nodded. "peter benjamin parker, please to meet ya." he said as he extended his gloved hand. you introduced yourself, and you noticed peter looking over your spider suit in awe. "you have such... a wonderful taste in fashion." he said with a smile underneath his mask. you smiled back, without even seeing his smile. "thanks, i've been told it's a little too colorful, though. i was considering toning it down, but i'm glad you like it." you replied. "ah, i've got the same problem, too. a lot of people have told me my getup is more like a mortician than it is a private investigator, let alone as a 'superhero'." he rambled a little as you listened to him.

"i guess we both have our problems with how people see us, then. but it's better than facing those problems alone, no?" you asked as you looked up at him. "certainly is." he responded. you two had agreed to swing over to the nearest rooftop and find answers from there, and all the while, you two talked on and on about each other's home universes and the lives you two lived there. "sounds cool, your universe, i mean. what if i brought you like, maybe, a glow in the dark ceiling decor?" you offered, to which peter almost lost his grip from his webbing. "you decorate ceilings? with... things that 'glow in the dark'? fascinating..." he said as he held on to his webbing tighter and his hat as the wind threatened to blow it away. "i'd love to have you over, though! maybe after this whole debacle, i can show you all the finest spots my home has to offer!" he said as you two swung around, and you found yourself agreeing to it already before even knowing him for an hour.

after the whole collider fight, you rushed up to peter and embraced him tightly. "i knew you could make it out, with a champ like you, of course you would!" he exclaimed happily as he held you tightly. "and so did you, big man." you said as you chuckled in excitement and happiness at your group's victory. you could feel everyone else's eyes on you two, and the best part was... they were waiting for this moment to happen ever since you two joined their ensemble.

"i told you they had something going on together." peni said with a smile as ham held her hand, blowing a comically loud and exaggerated sniffle into a cloth he summoned from his hammerspace. "they were always destined to be in love!" he exclaimed as he cried into the cloth. you looked up to see them all looking at you and peter, and you immediately took your hands off him, a little hastily and still smiling widely like a dork. "we're just really happy we won!" you tried clearing it up, but peter wouldn't let go of you and still hugged you tightly. "yeah, we won, now lemme hug 'em, yeah?" peter said as the others chuckled, with some crying out of happiness for you two.

you looked at peter, with peter looking back at you. you placed both of your hands on his cheeks and smiled. "can i... visit your world for a little bit, when we find a way to do that safely?" you asked him as he leaned a little closer toward you. "oh, darling... i'd let you be with me every time. i do wanna see your world, too--maybe the universe will finally come along for peter benjamin parker now and let us be happy at each other's sides--" "oooookay, that's enough people, move along, chop chop, let's go home." said peter b as he cut off your peter at the sight of how loving he was being to you. "quick word of advice, if you two get married, never invest in a spider-themed restaurant, they will hate you forever." he whispered to your peter, who took mental note of that.

"guess this is... goodbye." you told him as you held his hand, not wanting to let go. "no, doll... it's a see you soon, i promise." he said as he swiftly planted a soft kiss on your forehead as he let go of your hand and lifted his mask up to show you his face--his charming, sweet smile that promised to meet you again very soon.

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @sabcandoit @binibinileonara @k4tsu3 @luvstarrstruck @maxoloqy @connors-cumslurper

[fandom-friday]

Thank you so much to everyone that submitted recommendations this week! A comprehensive list of this week’s submissions can be found under the cut! Recommendations are organized by show/media, and any main pairings will be listed after the title.

🌿 = 18+ content 🟢 = contains spoilers of a currently running show

Fics:

The Clone Wars: 🌿 In Command (Captain Rex x OC Senna Aven) by @wild-karrde Vacation (Hawk x gn!Reader) by @rinwritesfics The Chase by @kimiheartblade (art by @mire-draws-things) The Ties That Bind Us by @saggitary

The Bad Batch: 🟢 (TBB S3) The Plant Prowler of Pabu (Crosshair x gn!Reader) by @dystopicjumpsuit 🟢 (TBB S3) The Phee Fall Manuever (Tech x Phee Genoa) by @eclec-tech The Only Exception (Captain Howzer x OC June Kiore) by @starqueensthings Magnetic Pull by The_Absent_Minded_One (AO3) Art of War by moxibustion (AO3)

The Book of Boba Fett: 🌿 Biscuits and Beskar (Boba Fett x OC Kaylee Manu) by @marierg

Star Wars Original Trilogy: Endless Blue Skies by SquidWonder (AO3) Stretching Out Your Arms to Something That's Just Not There by SquidWonder (AO3)

Batman: Butler, Father, Assassin, Spy by cabezas_de_vaca (AO3) The Birds: Hatching Family by @oceanera12 Come One, Come All by @incogneat-oh

Young Justice: A Collision of Masks by movaz (AO3)

My Hero Academia: By Any Other Name (Dabi x Hawks) by @satelliteblue

Percy Jackson and the Olympians: The Matchmaker of Your Dreams (Miranda Gardiner x Sherman Yang) by TheAmazingMaddy (AO3) Longing to Linger (Clovis x Pollux) by hehkhatea (AO3) It Feels Like We Have the Same Wounds by lingeringlucidity (AO3) The Clew Chronicles! by IzzyInk13 (AO3) Weezl's Riordanverse Drabbles by WeezlBot (AO3)

Art:

The Clone Wars: Frog-O-First Battalion by @mwolf0epsilon Commander Fox Art by @nikscribbles 🌿 Jesse Art by @for-the-sake-of-color Captain Rex in Casual Clothing by @saga-ordsmed Aayla Secura Art by @ddeck Girls Night by @cobaltbeam

The Bad Batch: The Bad Batch Art by @eso-terrors Tech Art by @local-cryptid 🟢 (TBB S3) Behind the Mask by @gorlicberd Crosshair Art by @clonemedickix 🟢 (TBB S3) Hunter and Crosshair Art by @queddadraw Hunter Art by @corukant

Rebels: Rebels Comic by @tyquu

The High Republic Series: Avar Kriss Art by @nataliabdraws

A Court of Thorns and Roses Series: Modern Day Elain and Azriel Art by dudledudlesss (Instagram)

Critical Role: Space Pirate AU Fjord Art by @phi-guy

GIF Sets:

Rebels: Ezra Bridger Beowulf GIF Set by @gizkalord

[acutiewithagun]

Can I request a platonic Yandere future and present rottmnt turtles with a present-time m/c? The future turtles (all of them, even Raph and Donnie) manage to travel in time with Casey and find m/c. Could you make it a longer fic, too?

I actually sent Celina some headcannons of this idea a while back, here they are if you are interested :)

(I will do my best to do the older turtles justice. Also great head cannons, I enjoyed reading them. Sorry if this is too long, I got a bit carried away. But at least I got two hours of sleep.)

Past, present, and future?

You had seen the news two years ago, weird pink aliens, mutant turtles, and the almost destruction of New York City. It had almost made you move away, but your new job and decent living conditions kept you there. And it's not like you'd ever be wrapped up in any of that.

Interestingly enough after that fiasco a species called 'yokai' emerged from out of nowhere. Most were kind and normal enough that they just naturally blended into human society. But along with yokai, mutants also started showing themselves. Same deal as the yokai for the most part, but a few were revealed as villains.

Again, it's just information you had acquired naturally over time, not something you would ever get involved with. You lived your boring happy life without many complaints.

You turned the television off and stood up with a stretch, groceries were dwindling in your apartment. And your roommate asked you to pick up a new book for them from the bookstore they frequented. So you walked over to the door and slipped on your jacket. Reaching over to the kitchen counter by the door, you ran your fingers through the key bowl.

Acquiring the needed key you gripped it and threw open the front door. You exited the door and locked the door knob. Giving it a quick turn to make sure it was locked, you started heading down the stairs of the apartment building. The elevator doors were broken on your floor so that forced you to use the stairs. Not that you were complaining too much, more exercise for you.

You looked up at the fading sun and semi-cloudy sky. Shaking your head, you start walking along the sidewalk with the tote bag you had snabbed before walking out of your apartment for groceries. It didn't appear like it would rain anytime soon, so walking would be fine. It was growing late however, so getting a taxi back was definitely something you would have to do.

Your mind wandered back to the original mutant reports that happened when you were a teen. Sure it wasn't that long ago, but it sure felt so long ago. Everyone thought it was just fancy editing that people did to scare the public. But after the alien attack nobody could deny what happened years prior.

You saw movement out of the corner of your eye and reached into your pocket. Inside was a taser your buddy got you as a birthday present in case of anything. You gripped it tightly as you continued your trek to the place you buy groceries for the apartment.

Reviewing the information, you recalled the amount of people you allowed to see the location of your phone. You gave yourself a reassuring nod as you turned the corner. Unfortunately you were so distracted with thoughts you accidentally collided with someone. You stumbled back and took your hand out of your pocket to rub your nose.

"Sorry for bumping into you." You finally looked at the person you had the accidental collision and felt your breathing hitch. Standing in front of you was one of those mutant turtles. But oddly he looked... older? He gave you a grin as he leaned down closer to your face. He had red markings peeking out from a blue mask that covered his face. "It's alright, say what are you doing out so late?" You took a step back while maintaining eye contact with the stranger who looked like one of New York's saviors. "Just walking around, I hope you have a nice day." You make your way around him only to spot a younger version of him on the other side. You blink in confusion but continue walking, not wanting to get involved if you didn't need to.

You heard slight whispers from behind you and hurried your pace. Once you made it to the grocery shop of your choice you started collecting the items on your grocery list. Something about the interaction rubbed you the wrong way. You felt... unnerved to say the list. You were tense as you looked at cans of food you considered buying. Pushing the feelings down you ignored it all and simply finished your shopping.

Stepping outside again, the sun was almost completely gone. You realized you had just enough daylight to get that book your roommate wanted. Seeing as they were on a business trip, you decided to do them the simple favor. You started the short walk to the book store with a smile at your haul of food.

You entered the store, taking in the scent of old and new books along with the jingle of the bell. You looked around the shelves as you spotted the book of desire. You reached up and grabbed it, flipping it back and forth to double check it was the correct book. Once you confirmed it by skimming the pages you walked along the shelves. A bit of browsing never hurt anyone, plus you were already there.

You ran your fingers over the binding of the books as you slowly walked down the aisles. A small smile graced your lips as you sighed happily. Pulling yourself back to reality you walked around to the counter and purchased the book. You begrudgingly stepped out of the lovely building and into the nosiey city shrouded in darkness. Letting out a huff of frustration you pull out your phone. You balanced the tote bag on your shoulder as you also shoved the book inside. You scrolled through the taxi app you got recently, hoping it would make getting a cab easier.

As you were focused on your phone, someone tapped you on the shoulder, causing you to flinch. You snapped your head around to see the perpetrator that scared you as you stuck both hands in your pockets. Chuckling at your response the older turtle from earlier gave you a smirk as he backed up, hands in the air to show he meant no harm.

"Woah, calm down fighter, just little ol' me." Little was an understatement this man was at least in the six feet range. However you brushed the comment off and brought out your phone again, keeping your other hand on the taser. "Sorry, I get jumpy at night." You didn't trust him, but a conversation would keep him distracted long enough for your cab to arrive. "Ah, understandable, but I seriously wouldn't hurt cha. Sure I'm capable, however you are too special to harm."

With that he unceremoniously ruffles your hair with his hand. Something about his wording made you all the more cautious of the stranger. "Um, thanks, I guess." He gave you a wink, removing his hand from your head. He watched as you fixed your hair. "So why are you still out so late?" You looked at the app on your phone, frowning when you noticed the wait time went up by another fifteen minutes. "Waiting on a taxi. But at this point I might as well just walk."

The strange turtle man gave a hum of understanding as you started walking away. "Hey, hold on, is it really that safe to be walking on your own?" You hear him start to walk slowly behind you, tightening your grasp on your taser. "Positive, I've made the walk many times before." You speed up your stride, which in turn made him speed up until he was walking side by side with you. "Still, I can offer my company till you get home." The way he said this didn't sound like he was giving me an option. But you took the bait anyway.

"No, it's really fine, I insist you go back to do what you were originally doing." You were so distracted, you hadn't noticed how close you were to your apartment complex now. "I was just on a nightly stroll, nothing too urgent." You groan as you spot your building and look at him finally. "Well you got your way, have a great night sir." With that little bit, you headed up the stairs. You didn't look back at him, but you could feel his stare on the back of your neck. You rushed up the stairs and quickly got to your apartment.

You fumbled with your key before jabbing it in the lock and turning it to allow you into the apartment. Once inside you close the door and lock it, tossing the key into the key bowl. You rest your tote bag on the counter and start putting the food away.

Once you finished with that basic chore, you fished the book out of the bag. You opened your roommate's door to their room and placed the book on their bed. After that you closed the door and stalked over to the couch. You all but flopped across the entire thing as you tried to wrap your head around the events that transpired earlier.

Being unable to however, made you rub your face with your palms and groan. You tiredly got up and made your way to your room. You figured you could do your night routine to get your mind off everything. It was most likely a one time thing that would never occur again. Or, at least that was the hope.

Opening the door to your own bedroom, you walk in, only to be stopped by a large, translucent, purple barrier with some type of signal on it. "Donnie, we agreed on deploying the barrier after they fully entered the room." An audible scoff was heard and you snapped your head to the sound. "I know Angelo, but does it matter now?" A groan was sound as you continued looking through the darkness of the room. "Nardo was right, they really are observant."

Two turtles emerged from where my window was located and I took a few steps back. Only to bump into another one of those barriers. "What are you doing in my apartment!?" Your eyes were wide as you looked between the two. The purple wearing bandana one was shorter and also wore a purple hoodie. The orange mask wearing one was only a bit taller but appeared to be wearing some kind of cloak. And wait... Is that hair? You were positive reptiles couldn't grow hair.

"To answer your inquiry, we are here to bring you home." The older one nodded. "Staying here just isn't safe enough. But don't worry, everything is all set up for you back at the lair." You see the barriers now surrounding you on all sides, preventing any type of escape. You watch with unrest as they slowly get closer, all you can do is hold onto the taser still in your pocket.

Once they get close enough the barriers drop and you bolt out of the room. But you don't get too far before some type of chain wraps around your ankle. You tripped and fell forward, thankfully the taser landed close to you after your hands were forced out of the pockets.

You quickly snatch it as you are dragged back into the room. You hold it out in front of you and the purple one scoffed. He closed the door to your room as the older turtle crouched down to your level. "Why do you have that? It's not a sufficient tool to protect yourself with." The younger one of the two easily takes the taser from your hands as the other turtle starts wrapping you in the chain as you wriggle around.

"It normally works well enough." You bit back in hopes of deterring their task at hand. But unfortunately that just earned a sympathetic chuckle from the one tying you up and a head pat. "I forgot how stubborn you are, Donnie, mind picking them up?" The one addressed as Donnie nodded and swiftly lifted you up. "I would advise against struggling any further, I really don't want to accidentally drop you." And with those final words the two quickly moved out of your window and up to the roof tops.

They moved quickly and efficiently, but you just felt like a buoy, being jerked up and down as they flew. At some point Donnie activated a jetpack looking thing. And the one earlier addressed as Angelo was simply flying. Soon they landed and took you down into an abandoned subway station. Once there you were immediately swarmed by turtles. Older and younger counterparts of each other. And oddly enough a young boy, maybe about fourteen was there as well.

You were taking in too much information at once as you were ushered into a subway train car. The orange wearing pair left first to make food for everyone. Then the purple duo left, discussing something about security. And finally the blue two left to get whatever they identified as activities. Now just left with the extremely large red wearing match and the young human boy.

They worked to untie you from the chains, freeing you for hugs you weren't expecting. You were trapped between the bigger red one and the smaller red one. The human boy hugged you from the front. You tried to free yourself but gave up when none of them budged.

"Would someone at least tell me what is going on? Maybe give me names to my captors." The older version of the spikey turtle cleared his throat and gave me a toothy smile that showcased his snaggletooth. "Don't worry your head about a thing. We brought ya home so you could be safe. You can call me El." The smaller one was careful not to squeeze too tightly. "An' I'm Raph, but we aren't captors, we're heroes." You stared hesitantly at him, not really believing him at all with your predicament. "I'm Casey Junior, we knew you in the future and now you won't die again!" You looked at the young man in shock at his words. "Hold on, future? Die again? I don't understand."

Before anyone could respond the purple ones entered back in. "We came from an apocalyptic future where we could not defeat the Kraang. You unfortunately perished early into the battle. It deviated all of us, but you're alive here, alive and now completely safe from harm." You gawked at the older one as he talked. "Oh right, you may call me Tello." The smaller one was messing with the gauntlet on his arm. "I'm Donnie, just to make names easier."

You nodded hesitantly as the hug moved to a large couch in the room. You were grateful not to be standing with all that weight on you anymore. "But I was fine before, why bring me here?" Again, another person broke through to answer. "Easy, protecting you at our lair is a lot easier than the dangerous city, I'm Mikey!" The younger of the two orange wearing turtles excitedly proclaimed as he placed some plates of food for everyone. "I'm Angelo, and also because we missed you so much we want to spend as much time with you as possible."

You stare at the food skeptically as the blue pair joins the group again. "Ooo, introductions, well you can call me Leo." The younger one did a fancy pose as the older one smirked. "And I'm Nardo, just so you know, our counterparts share the same names as us but we decided on nicknames to make it easier on ourselves." You nodded in understanding as they all sat down to eat at a table in the room.

You were sat in-between all of them as they ate, barely being about to stomach what you were given from stress. You had to get out of here, but what could you do?

[ominous-auburn-orbs]

@just-observing-here Here's the fic you suggested! Hope I followed the prompt right

Jax had pushed it too far. Gangle couldn't take it any longer. The performers saw how a glitching mass of black and brightly coloured eyes had tried to consume her. They were just barely able to calm her down enough to return her to normal. Even Jax had left her alone after that.

Throughout the whole process, Caine had just stood by. He could've helped. He knew he should've. But he had felt paralysed. Fear, he reminded himself. It was called fear. It was a sudden wake-up call for him that any of the performers could abstract at any time, and he would never be able to get them back. Was it his fault they were abstracting? He never wanted them to. He'd gotten attached to this group. He always did. How could he save them? Could he save them at all?

His hand glitched, causing his cane to fall through it. That had started happening since these thoughts had begun. He picked up the cane, but it just fell again. A bit frustrated now, he clicked his fingers to make it disappear, but instead it just shrank. Guess he'll have to deal with that later.

Before long, Caine's thoughts were spiralling again. His chest was getting tighter. He couldn't save them. He couldn't save them. He couldn't-

His body filled with a sharp and painful tingling, causing him to lose control of his floating. The collision with the ground brought him back once more. The loud thud it created also alerted a nearby Kinger, whose responding scream caused both worry and relief. Kinger could help him. But what if Kinger was scared of his glitching? What if it spread like abstraction?

Just as Caine was picking himself up from the floor, Kinger rounded the corner.

"I heard something, are you okay?"

"I'm perfectly fine, my dear! There's nothing you need to stress over! Nothing at all!" His arm disconnected for a moment, floating beside him before moving back. Kinger definitely saw it.

"W-what was that? Is that meant to be happening?" Now Kinger was concerned. No way out of it now, Caine had had to learn that the hard way before. Odd how he seemed so forgetful and unaware, yet unable to drop something he truly cared about or noticed.

"Well, no, but I'm sure it'll just fix itself!" Kinger ignored him, reaching for his arms and inspecting him, but struggling to keep hold as Caine kept clipping through.

"Did you catch this from Gangle?" The chess piece continued to run his hands along where the glitch showed, pulling a nervous and flustered chuckle from Caine. "Hmm, probably not, or I'd have caught it by now, too. You were pretty far from Gangle anyway..."

Kinger continued to mutter to himself, trying to find a pattern in the glitches. Caine just stared at him. What would he do when he lost him? Caine wasn't ready for that. Kinger could never abstract. He'd lasted this long, but it's not like he could last forever.

Kinger jumped back when Caine went through a strong full-body glitch, bringing him to his knees.

"Caine!" Kinger's hands supported the ringmaster, keeping him from falling any further, but his now ever changing shape made that easier said than done. "Just- just try taking some deep breaths! That usually helps me."

"Kinger- I don't have lungs," he laughed. How could he laugh? Kinger shouldn't be protecting him, it should be the other way around. The chess piece had no idea how much danger he was in.

"O-oh, uh- then what's causing these glitches? Was it Gangle? We fixed her and her comedy mask up, if you were worrying about that. Even gave her a nose, too! I thought an extra feature might make her feel better." Caine was laughing again, the glitches calming. So it was based on his feelings. "I know I'd feel pretty good if I was given a mouth, let alone a nose, even if it was just drawn on! Bet you'd like it if I had a mouth, huh?"

The ringmaster burst out laughing, startled by the comment. Well, he supposed Kinger wasn't wrong.

"Hey, the glitches stopped!" Kinger pressed his face to Caine's teeth in a makeshift kiss. "Who knew I was such a comedic genius?"

Caine just kept giggling, pulling Kinger closer. "I could've guessed."

Kinger joined in on the laughter as well, until he was sure Caine was fine again. "So, any idea as to what that was about?"

A melancholy feeling started creeping across the back of Caine's mind, but it went away when he looked into Kinger's eyes again. "Is it okay if I tell you later?"

"Of course, honey. Whatever helps." Caine's face reddened at the pet name.

"H-honey??" The whirring sound of computer fans emitted from him. Kinger kissed him again, the smile clear on his face despite his lack of a mouth. Maybe everything would be fine after all.

[phading]

WIP Alert

WIP Alert … and it’s not even Wednesday!

I haven’t posted a fic for a while, and I have three (hopefully good) excuses. I’ve been dividing my time between these WIPs that are all tugging at my heartstrings ...

STARSTUCK

It was one of those heart-stopping moments when your mind realizes you have totally and absolutely fucked up so bad that your life from this point forward will be unalterably changed. Alan’s throat choked on a swallow that ended up being a gasp.

“Alan!” John’s shout broke through the fog. “Scott and Gordon have already responded! Get a stretcher and a medkit down there. Move it!”

Alan moved it, familiar routines and following orders overriding the need to think. The infirmary loomed, dimly lit and ominous around him as he hastily prepped a stretcher, loading it with standard emergency gear. Reality didn’t hit until the elevator doors split open at the refuelling hangar level.

The alarm was abruptly silenced, no doubt by John, but the residual echo continued to ring in Alan’s ears. The air smelled of fuel and singed metal, cut with the almost fresh scent of flame-retardant foam. His beautiful, red bird was tilted to the side in her silo, rail docks and thrusters damaged, a wing pylon bent out of shape and so many scrapes in her hull that it looked like she was bleeding.

…

CASPIAN (Nutty's Marks and Wings AU)

“Ditch the protocols, Virg, just get as much distance between you and Five as you can. I’m not certain I can avoid a collision.”

Virgil didn’t know what they were about to collide with, nor did he need to. What he did know was that John was doing everything in his power to keep it from happening.

“Understood,” he growled, reluctantly turning his back on his brother and heading for the nearest suit-up station where he found John’s partner closing the last fastening on one of Five’s emergency suits. They were designed to fit all of the brothers, and since Caspian was even leaner than John he was almost lost in the baggy cloud of space-rated neoprene.

Virgil snatched a helmet, settled it onto Caspian’s suit latches and clicked it into place. “C’mon, let’s go!” He grabbed a fistful of loose suit and powered both of them towards the airlock.

“No!” Caspian writhed and twisted in his grip. “Let go of me! I’m not leaving John!”

Virgil half-plowed, half-swam forward, his expression a rigid mask of fear for his brother’s safety. “John’s doing his best to avoid a collision,” he asserted, trying to convince not only Caspian but himself. “We need to launch Thunderbird 3, keep her safe. If this goes sideways John’s gonna need our help.”

…

STARS BEYOND SCIENCE

“We’re done with that one, Gordy,” John said softly, absently watching a fuzzy sun tint the early morning sky pink and orange outside the window. “Hemingway’s a little bit out there, but what did you think?”

He should have been accustomed to the lack of response by now, but John could feel the salty sting of tears gathering in the corners of his eyes.

“I know you’ve probably done Moby-Dick, bro, but I think it’s worth reading more than once, don’t you? Let’s give it a go.” The gentle suggestion went unnoticed but Gordon’s chest still rose and fell in perfect rhythm as John read the first 27 chapters without pausing.

It was Day 4.

…

[random-mailbox]

Random-Mailbox's Favorite Sailor Moon Fics - Week 18 - High School AU

This post’s theme was suggested by the wonderful @lilliebellfanfics (check out her works on AO3 and FFN (links to her profiles are in platform names) since they do not fully overlap and trust me, you don’t want to miss them!). She just started posting her Dendy AU shorts too, so definitely worth a look.

High School AU, from @floraone ’s matrix (here is the post with it for reference), is a fun way to explore the dynamics between Mamoru and Usagi in a more age appropriate setting for Anime based stories and more in line with Manga characterizations.

As always, my apologies in advance for spoiling some of these for you (Fic Titles are linked to either FFN or AO3 entries).

Wool you love me already? – @midnightdrops

The story set in an AU where Mamoru and Usagi are great friends and classmates right from the start. It starts with Usagi telling Mamoru that she would like to confess to someone she likes in their class, which is why she cannot tell him who it is. She even enlists his help in making sure the confession goes to plan. The catch? Mamoru is the one she will be confessing to.

(side note: make sure you are logged into your AO3 account to access this story, it has been locked down with all the scraping and reposting on other platforms without writers' consent)

Box of Chocolates - Chapter 3: Day 6: Alternate Universe – @kasienda

Instead of Mamoru springing going to Harvard on Usagi and just leaving, in this story he comes up with an alternate plan – he suggests Usagi joins him in the US and attends a high school near his campus, so he doesn’t have to be away from her for as long. Her parents agree to their plan as long as their conditions are met – Usagi passes all her classes for the fall semester AND gets good scores on her TOEFL exam to prove to them that she is ready.

Time After Time – @idesofnovember

In this almost sickeningly sweet multichapter, Usagi transfers to a new school part way through the school year to get better guidance in her Arts pursuits, and is introduced to the school president on her first day. He is someone she has known when she was little and was one of her best friends, however, she lost touch with him. But does he remember her and promises they had made?

Graduation - @celticreeder

When even Andrew bails on attending Darien’s graduation, Serena makes sure that the day is a special one for him, attending the ceremony and inviting him over for a celebratory dinner with her family. But what happens when Darien has to go abroad to study?

Our Secret Notebook - luna-magic-2005

Mamoru was headed to the roof to brood in peace, when he gets armful of Usagi, rushing to their art class. While quickly picking up books she dropped in their collision, she forgot her notebook. Having read it, Mamoru starts leaving notes for her inside it, passing it back-and-forth.

The Longest Trip Ever - Serenity-hime

Usagi, the girls and Mamoru are all doing one week exchange to the US, relieved to get away from fighting Youmas. Except that's where Dark Kingdom chooses to strike next. Without knowing Sailor Moon and Tuxedo Mask's true identities, our duo must balance secrecy with trying to save everyone.

The Golden Boy of Juuban High - @uglygreenjacket

Student council president Mamoru and Usagi have been sneaking around for months, making out all over the school. Usagi getting sick finally makes Mamoru confront his feelings, but in true anime-centric fashion he royally screws up communicating them.

That's it for today! Next week's post will cover some "Slice of Life" stories for @lilliebellfanfics!

Here are the links to the previous Tumblr posts in these series to explore more amazing works based on different themes - make sure to check them out if you haven't had a chance! (Click on title name to go to the post) - I will keep updating the list every week as new posts come up:

Week 1 - Groundhog Day

Week 2 - Established Relationships

Week 3 - Sex Positivity

Week 4 - Unfinished Stories

Week 5 - Darker Stories

Week 6 - Potions 🧪

Week 7 - Reveals

Week 8 - 👻Halloween🎃

Week 9 - Wrong Perceptions

Week 10 - Non-Senshi AU

Week 11 - In-Progress Fics

Week 12 - Mutual Pining

Week 13 - Enemies to Lovers

Week 14 - Slow Burn

Week 15 - Christmas Part 1 - Ugly Christmas Sweaters and Santa!

Week 16 - Christmas Part 2

Week 17 - New Years

[thedunesea]

7 & 10 for the ask meme ☺️

Thanks for the ask! :))

7: gosh this is embarrassing. I think that the first fic I ever planned to write was a self-insert about a beautiful Teleri from Valinor with whom Frodo Baggins fell in love after he sailed for the west (I had SUCH a crush on Elijah Wood. I honest to god sent him an handwritten letter asking him to marry me when I grew up. I was TWELWE); I suppose Frodo and I were going to defeat the darkness of Morgoth once and for all with the power of love and my mighty sword lol. Unfortunately I never got to write this masterpiece.

The first fic I actually wrote (I was fourteen, and still traumatized after seeing rots in theatre) was an Obidala post rots au - they moved to Tatooine, Padmé of course turned out to be Force Sensitive, Obi-Wan trained her and she fought masked in silver until the day Vader tracked them down, cue to masks cracking and angst ensuing and then I stopped writing because at fourteen I didn't know that threesomes were a thing and I had no idea how to finish that story without killing Anakin off, which I didn't want to do (always been weak for pretty boys with huge blue eyes)

10: usually I know the title as soon as I start writing because 70% of the time my plot bunnies jump out of a song, which promptly becomes the title, and for the remaining 30% the title is directly connected to the plot. The only notable exception is Neutron Star Collision, which originally had a title I didn't like, but then one day spotify played the song and I IMMEDIATELY logged onto AO3 to rename the story because it was just perfect

[ifyoucandaniel]

A Collision of Masks by movaz and art by @02png and endpapers by @huedmmi 🎭

i always forget i’m allowed to post projects on here before instagram if i don’t want to spoil the surprise because my IRL friends don’t follow this account :) so this is something i made for my best friend who’s only really watched half of young justice season one and only knows about the batkids because of my extensive over sharing and inability to stfu <3

the covers were supposed to kinda align and be like the two sides of his identity, one with the mask and one just dick, but when they’re actually aligned the spine is so thick it throws the perception off ;-; i still like the idea though. and you know i had to pose the book with all my art from 02png, i just bought more too so i can’t wait to get frames for them all. the bind would not be complete without their incredible art being the inspiration!! and thank you again to both @02png and @huedmmi for allowing me to use your art in this project!! 🖤🖤

anyways this fic is 100/10 if you’re looking for a dick centric fic (could he not have be named anything else oh my god) where young justice is trying to recruit nightwing while living next door to dick grayson with a side of dick being the best big brother ever and just overall being the loml, this is for you.

this fic really scratched an itch in my mind!! i’d been looking for a dick focused long fic for awhile and this really just delivered on all fronts. please give it a read and lmk what you think!!

[bat-losers-inc]

Beat the Devil’s Tattoo: Chapter 1

“I have a new job for you.” Ra’s’ voice sounds notoriously smug through his comlink. “Not likely,” said Tim, “Haven’t you heard? Bruce is out of the country on WE business—” Ra’s continues over him, “It's got nothing to do with Bruce Wayne. I’m hiring out your services to a business partner. He wants reports on the Red Hood’s nightly activities around Gotham.” Tim paused to catch his breath. “Who does?” His mouth was dry. “Why, Black Mask, of course. I told him you’d be just the person to get it for him. After all, you’re one of the few people he trusts.”

Or a Collisions in the Dark AU, where instead of rescuing Tim from her father, Talia chooses to save Jason’s life, leaving Tim at the mercy, and wrath, of Ra’s al Ghul. Tim eventually wins his freedom, but the price he pays for it? Serving as a double agent for Ra’s, who wants to give Bruce a taste of his own medicine.

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

The Bowery, Gotham City

December 8, 9:47 pm

“I have a new job for you.” Ra’s’ voice sounded notoriously smug through his comlink. Tim paused to catch his breath on the next rooftop.

“Not likely,” said Tim, “Haven’t you heard? Bruce is out of the country on WE business—”

Ra’s continued over him, “It's has nothing to do with Bruce Wayne.”

No doubt Ra’s had picked up on the loud rattling of his breath through the comlink and Tim just hoped that he thought it was from physical exertion instead of a sudden unquenchable bought of panic that left him feeling ever-so lightheaded and unsteady.

He made a quick scan into the distance. Despite the fact that he was patrolling alone, he couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching him… listening in. Though that someone he thought he was sensing was most likely Ra’s himself. He attempted to shake off the nerves, choosing instead to focus on taking one deep breath after another as he continued with his patrol because he’d be damned if working for Ra’s was going to stop him from doing his real job as Red Robin.

Ra’s continued on, delivering his next assignment —  one that could prove to be the death sentence of his vigilante career if he was found out… but what was new about that? “I’m hiring out your services to a business partner. He wants you to report to him on the Red Hood’s nightly activities around Gotham.”

Tim’s mouth was dry. He let the car he’d been tailing make a sharp left and slip away into the rush of cars heading onto the Aparo expressway. “Who does?”

“Why, Black Mask, of course. I told him you’d be just the person to get it for him. After all, you’re one of the few people Jason trusts.”

“I’m not some backstabber-for-hire. I spy for you, no-one else.”

“You are spying for me. Only this time you’re reporting your findings to Black Mask.”

“That wasn’t part of our deal,” said Tim. Despite the pains he took to remain undetected, his family was started to suspect something was amiss. He was playing a dirty game with a limited life expectancy. This assignment might just shorten his time left by half. If that.

If anyone was going to find him out, it would be Jason.

Realizing suddenly how incredibly belligerent his statement sounded, he made a quick attempt to dispel the hostile atmosphere. “I don’t think you’ve fully thought about the repercussions if this goes south. What if Roman decides to tell his friends about this little arrangement? Do you really think you can count on his discretion? Because if word got out that there was a spy inside Batman’s organization—”

“Oh, don’t try to hide behind reason, Timothy,” replied Ra’s. “I’ve shared your company for long enough to know what it sounds like when you try to refuse me. Let’s be frank with each other. If you want to say no then just… say it.”

It was another one of Ra’s little traps. Tim had walked into enough of them during his stay with Ra’s to spot them on sight. The aftertaste of those deceptions still lingered in the back of his throat, acidic as bile and choked with the smell of his own fear.

“I wasn’t—”

“Oh, I’m sure you weren’t. But know this, I have men standing ready to snatch you back to Nanda Parbat if the moment comes when you should even breathe the word ‘no’ in my hearing. Because frankly, I do so miss having someone to share my bed with and at least this way we can revert to our old routine.”

And there it was, the bait and switch only narrowly avoided. His survival instincts had proved themselves right once again.

This arrangement was only ever supposed to be a way out. He wondered to himself how even three months later he could still find himself feeling just as trapped in this devil’s bargain as he did on the very first day he’d made it. What he needed to do was get out… the million-dollar question was, How?

“Trust me, Ra’s. I understand.”

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

Nanda Parbat, Tibet

October 4, 3:28 pm

The guards marched him back into the main chamber with his arms locked in a vice grip behind his back. He didn’t bother to struggle now, in fact, he’d all together stopped struggling two floors into their ascent from the prison wing. What did it matter anyway? The mission was complete, the attack on New York contained, an achievement Jason had paid for with his life. Tim understood that the first person Ra’s’ suspicious eye would fall on was himself, so he did the last thing within his power, setting the scientist’s family free from their imprisonment below the Demon Head’s compound. In his opinion, it was a fair trade— their freedom at the price of his own.

The double doors were pulled open and Tim forced his feet to keep moving and carry him towards the chair where Ra’s lounged like a king before his court.

Ra’s motioned at the guards to either side of Tim. They seized him with a hand gripping tight to each of his shoulders and wrists.

So this is how I die, he thinks, eyes glued to the intricate carpet under his feet. He doesn’t want to look up and see the blade flashing towards him. But despite his fears, it never comes. Before there’s time to register what’s happening, his feet are kicked out from under him, sending him crumpling to the floor like a marionette with its strings cut.

His head thumped painfully on the carpet.

Ra’s knelt down beside him where he lay stunned on his back. “Did you think I wouldn’t see your hand in all this?”

Ra’s grabbed him by the arm and planted his knee against Tim’s shoulder, “Or that I’d simply forgive your betrayal because I desire you?“ He pressed down with his full body weight, pinning Tim to the ground. In a horrific moment of clarity, Tim grasped for Ra’s’ leg all the while knowing that he’d never escape the joint lock fast enough.

With efficient and heartless speed Ra’s bent Tim’s arm back across his bended knee. He heard the distinct popping sound of the tendons in his elbow tearing at the hyperextension and the sickening pain of his shoulder dislocating.

He screamed, back arching off the floor. His voice echoed in the large chamber room and bounced off the walls and the unsympathetic ears of the Demon Head’s many servants.

Ra’s lowered himself over Tim’s panting form until his lips were touching his ear. Despite the intimacy of their positions, Ra’s’ voice was detached and cold. “This is the price you pay for loyalty. Tell me later if you still think it was worth it.”  

Tim made a keening noise low in his throat as Ra’s released him. He curled up on his side and pulled his arm protectively against his chest, but the pain was still a heavy throb that radiated through his upper body. He shifted as best he could until he could press his cheek to the cool flagstone floor, trying to focus on its cool touch under his cheek until the pain dulled.

He watched Ra’s’ boots as they walked the length of the hall and disappeared out of view. Within a few minutes, the muted sounds of other footsteps also receded out of earshot and Tim was left alone in the entrance chamber with nothing but the sounds of his own pained breathing and the eerie shriek of wind whistling through the loose seals of the old windows high up along the ceiling. Maybe it was just the cold mountain air seeping in, or his own uncertainty about his future, but the sound chilled him to the bone. It sounded like the ghosts of Ra’s’ many dead enemies were haunting the room, flying around in the rafters.

He didn’t intend to join them.

With a pained effort, he planted his feet on the ground and scooted his body along the floor on his back until he reached the side wall of the chamber, where he struggled up into sitting position. The effort of that along left him breathless and he didn’t look forward to what was to come next.

He gripped the wrist of his injured arm and straightened out his arm. He took a calming breath before pulling it up at a sharp angle. He thought he heard the sound of it setting back into place within its socket over his own screaming, but couldn’t be sure. Before he had time to consider it further he passed out.  

When he awoke it was to the cool slick touch of the flagstone floor again, smelling of earth and other ancient things. The pain has reduced to a periodic ache that radiated from his shoulder down to his fingers. Still, it was duller and more manageable than it was before.

He pushed himself up until he could sit on his knees.

“I was beginning to think you’d never wake.”

Tim spun around. Ra’s was seated at the chair on the dais again, looking bored.  

“I almost had one of the Lazarus Pits readied,” he continued, raising his head off of his planted fist, his elbow resting against the chair arm.

“Why am I not dead?” Tim asked finally. “After everything I did.”

“Because, Timothy, you still need to learn loyalty.”

“I am loyal,” Tim raised his head, “just not to you.”

Ra’s smiled and the sight was not comforting in the least. “Yes, we’ll have to see about that.”

The blow to his head comes out of nowhere and Tim crumpled into unconsciousness once more.

[jaeyunverse]

losing game

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genres: heavy angst, fluff if you squint real hard, dystopian, apocalypse au, lovers to exes

wc: 1089

warnings: death, violence, open ending

playlist: arcade by duncan laurence (i strongly recommend listening to the song as you read!)

summary: loving park sunghoon had always been a losing game. it was all borrowed time anyway.

note: repost from my old blog!! i’ve poured a lot of feelings into this fic and it’s my proudest piece of angst so far :”) i hope it is to your liking! feedback is always appreciated <33 do let me know what you think of the ending :D

masterlist

Destruction, pain and suffering—they were everywhere.

In the car crashes that blocked the roads, the dead bodies inside as mangled as the metal destroyed in the collision. In the trucks that toppled over broken suspension bridges and into the waiting waters below. In the anguished screams of a mother searching for her child’s lost stroller in a city full of chaos.

In the skyscrapers that once touched the sky, now collapsing to the ground like dominoes. In the black, suffocating smoke that corrupted the chilly mid-morning air. In the ear-splitting bomb explosions that threatened to shatter everything apart.

Destruction, pain and suffering swirled in your red-rimmed eyes. They made your bones shiver from within. They mocked you and laughed at you, ever the merciless abominations.

You were pushed into a room in one of the last standing structures in the city. The shackles around your wrists rattled, the ones binding your legs making you stumble. The cloth covering the entirety of your bloody face didn’t make things any easier.

A powerful kick to your spine had you falling to your knees, and your palms immediately opened in front of you to break your fall. Stones and broken pieces of cement and ruin pierced your skin, drawing hot blood and inflicting the kind of pain you were starting to get used to.

Over the past few weeks, you had learnt that getting used to the pain didn’t guarantee immunity from the agony caused by it. Handling the torment became slightly easier, but it still hurt a lot. Especially when the person delivering it was—

“Remove the mask. I want her to see me.”

Someone tugged the cloth away, accidentally ripped a few strands of your hair in the process. Tears pricked your eyes, but you didn’t make a single sound. The sudden abundance of sunlight blinded you for a moment and you had to shield your eyes from its unforgiving intensity.

As soon as your eyes adjusted to the brightness, you saw him.

Park Sunghoon was, is and will be the most beautiful human being you’ll ever lay your eyes on. He stood five feet and nine inches tall, but from your kneeling position, he looked no shorter than six feet in height. He was adorned in a pair of tightly fitting black leather pants and a white t-shirt that hugged him in all the right places.

A leather jacket covered his strong biceps and veiny arms. His feet were clad in ankle-high combat boots and every inch of his body was covered with weapons.

Two guns in his hands and two swords strung across his back. You knew without a doubt that the inside of his jacket hid more knives than you could count on your hand. His body alone was a weapon. Everything else was just for display. And back up, if things made a turn for the worse—which they never did.

He slyly smiled at you as if he knew exactly what you were thinking. “Hello, Y/N. How have you been?”

You chose to keep your mouth shut and not respond. You didn’t know if you could answer Sunghoon firmly. Not when you felt so broken and exhausted.

“Leave us alone,” he commanded when you stayed silent, not tearing his gaze from yours for even a second.

You heard his soldiers file out of the room without question. The door slammed shut, and a tear finally escaped your eye. “Why?” you whispered, the muscles in your throat tightening and your voice cracking with emotion.

Sunghoon kneeled in front of you and wiped your moist cheeks with the kind of tenderness that sent your temper flaring.

He didn’t get to be gentle with you. Not after what he had done.

“I have to do what I’m told, Y/N,” he said. “I don’t give the orders. I simply follow them.”

What he didn’t need to specify was that his ‘orders’ required him to destroy the city.

You pressed your lips together in a futile attempt to stop them from wobbling. “Do what you need to do.”

You meant for the words to come out strong, but your voice trembled. You couldn’t bear the pain anymore. You could only hold on and hope for so long.

“I’m sorry. I wish things were different,” Sunghoon murmured. Cupping your face with his palms, he kissed your forehead softly. You didn’t resist him, choking back a sob when his lips lingered. “I’m so sorry, love. I don’t have a choice.” He pulled away. “I’m sorry for betraying you.”

You stared at him wordlessly. He nodded and stood up again, moving away from you and going back to where he was standing previously.

“Any last words?” he asked, voice clear and loud enough for the men standing outside to hear. Sunghoon raised a hand and aimed his gun at your tear-streaked and utterly devastated face.

You closed your eyes and let everything go. You reminisced the memories one last time. You let his smiling face flicker by. You imagined feeling the warmth of his embrace and the softness of his lips on yours. You imagined feeling the velvety texture of his hair as you wove your hands through the silky strands.

You thought of his betrayal for one last time. The deception that tore your heart apart.

You remembered the truth and recalled the lie of your relationship. The reality of the organisation he worked for the entire time. The organisation that was hell-bent on destroying your city and had realised you possessed sensitive information. The organisation that had sent Sunghoon to break down your walls and extract it.

You opened your eyes and looked at him one last time. Park Sunghoon was, is and will always be the most beautiful person you’ll ever lay your eyes on.

Park Sunghoon will also be the last person you’ll ever lay the same eyes on.

You took a deep breath and whispered, “I love you.”

He pulled the trigger.

[mechanicalhandsblog]

Mental Note Ch. 1

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Pairing: Doc Ock x spider!reader

Summary: You’re a spider-hero in NYC, frequently fighting Doc Ock. What happens when you’re flirty fighting makes you both realize you’re more than just nemesis. What happens when he’s finally ready to tell you how he really feels?

Warnings: blood, mentions of a wound

Word Count: 2.3k

Notes: this is an enemies to lovers fic yay! This will be a multiple part series, I hope you enjoy! 

CHAPTER 1: 

Fighting the infamous Doc Ock wasn’t something you had always done. It started back maybe a year ago when you first ran into him attempting to rob a bank. Your friend, Peter Parker had fought him every once in a while but he wasn’t always there to fight him.

Otto Octavius seemed to never sleep, and since Peter was always in class or trying to win over MJ, you’d taken up fighting the Dr. in your free time. It was almost like you fought him in shifts, Peter would catch him in the mornings and evenings and you took the middle of the day and nights. Except Pete never seemed to find him during his shifts. So he kept himself busy with other criminals. 

Normally you didn’t enjoy fighting, most of the time it felt like a boring chore. But Otto, he was different. His quick wit was quick to win you over, and you almost looked forward to finding him in the act of crime, just so you could banter with him a while. 

“Well look what the tide dragged in!” You said, swinging down into an alleyway where you’d spotted him late at night, fleeing from a bank he’d broken into. “Get it, since you’re an octopus.”

He turned to look at you and smiled. “Ah, there you are, I was wondering how long it would take for you to find me.” A metal arm flew at you, and you dodged it quickly. “I was starting to worry.” You could hear the smirk in his voice, and you rolled your eyes inside your suit. 

You shot a few webs at his metal prosthetics, temporarily keeping 2 of them connected to the wall behind him. The one that had attempted capturing you flew back towards you but again you’d dodged it.

“You were worried about me?” You asked. He rose in the air, trying to gain height but as he did you jumped towards him, attempting to grab the bags of money in his human hands.

 “If I didn’t know any better, Otto, I’d say you’re out here stealing things just to grab my attention”

Another metal arm flew at you but you were too quick. 

“Who gave you permission to call me that?” he said, ripping the actuators from the webbing, following you up the large building. “It surely wasn’t us.” You laughed in response, reaching the roof. He was quick to follow. 

“Ah but I just feel like our fights are too formal. We’re friends after all, right?” He responded by throwing large metal tubing in your direction. You jumped up, catching the edge with some webbing and avoiding its collision with the brick behind you. 

“Does that mean I can call you Y/N?” He asked.

What?

You landed with your feet on the roof, stunned by the mention of your name. He wasn’t attacking, so you ripped off your mask. 

“How the hell do you know who I am?” You asked. You could see his eyes widen for a moment, not expecting you to give in to that so easily. He quickly narrowed his eyes, hopeful you wouldn’t notice the moment of weakness. 

“Well I have to know the name of my favorite nemesis.” He said, catching you off guard with a metal arm, quickly grabbing you by the feet and flipping you upside down. Another arm wrapped around your torso, making you incapable of using your webbing. 

“So I guess that’s the answer to my ‘what are we’ question.” You jokingly sighed, but inside you were cursing him. How the hell did he know? “I have to say I’m a little disappointed. I thought we were more than that.”

He brought you closer to him, your hair dangling beneath you. You tried tilting your head so you could see him upright, but for now he was upside down, and there was no way you’d be able to maneuver out of this one. 

He was enamored by your ability to stay calm and witty in a moment where he could easily crush you. 

“I thought Spiderman would’ve been your favorite nemesis, not me.” You laughed. He wasn’t trying to kill you, and you loved bantering with him. Why not take advantage of the moment?

“Ah but Peter doesn’t flirt with me like you do.” Your face brightened at the response. 

“If you call this flirting, sure. But that only means you’re flirting back.” You shrugged, which was weird to do hanging upside down. “Hey if you’re gonna kidnap me can you at least take me now?” You asked. All the blood in your body was starting to rush to your head. 

“Shut up!” he yelled. 

You bit your lip, wondering if you should say what you were about to. 

“Make me, Dr.” 

He looked you over, something in his mind was turning, eyeing every part of you. You closed your eyes, your head starting to hurt being upside down so long. 

He flipped you over quickly, letting you go onto the hard floor of the roof. You landed with a thud, and when you went to look back up at him, he was gone. Money bags gone with him. 

Damnit.

A week later. 

Your apartment was unbearable. Especially when you were alone, which was all the time. Your insomnia didn’t help, no matter how much you tossed and turned in bed you could not sleep. You kept thinking about him. 

The day hadn’t been a good one, fighting villains that were not as fun and flirty as Otto. Not that you flirted with any other villains. These were just ones that didn’t care enough to pull their punches, and a cut on your leg was the result of the day's encounter. You’d patched it up with a gauze and tape, but tried to pay it no mind. 

3 am was not your normal shift of heading out looking for a fight, and honestly when you jumped from your balcony, swinging through the city, you weren’t looking for one. You just needed space. And fresh air. And some time to think about Otto. 

You’d been there, when the experiment went wrong. When the inhibitor chip was fried. That seemed like so long ago now, and you had spent the time between then and now trying to ruin any plan the Dr. had to creating a new fusion reactor. He was insistent, but you always managed to get in the way. 

Swinging through the night air was good. It felt new, the new atmosphere of a new day, one that had barely begun. 

You landed at your favorite spot, the Empire state building. You sat on a ledge near the top, taking in your surroundings. The city. You wondered what Otto was doing, if he was stealing something, or maybe he was finally resting. The dark circles under his eyes had started to worry you and you made a mental note to bring it up next time you saw him. 

Why should you care so much? You found yourself in a circle of thoughts. He was a good man before, he could still be a good man. Somewhere, lost in his mind. He could still be there. 

“Y/N?” a familiar voice reached your ears. You quickly turned your head around, seeing Otto standing not 10 feet away from you. He was relaxed, the metal arms were relaxed. It was nothing you’d ever seen before. For a split second you were panicked about your suit, but you remembered. He knows who you are. What would be the point in worrying about a suit, if you didn’t need to hide your identity from him. 

He wasn’t expecting to find you here. Of course he’d gone out that night in hopes you’d find him and banter a bit. It had become something he looked forward to. But instead on his stop to the top of one of the tallest buildings in the city, he found you. No spidey suit, no mask. Pure, genuine you. Something he’d never really seen before. You looked at him calmly, realizing there was no threat here, and patted the space next to you on the ledge of the building. 

He was hesitant at first, but he’d found an odd sense of fondness for you over the past few months. He didn’t really want to kill you, even hurt you. He always pulled his punches. And he’d noticed over time, you pulled yours too. 

He gazed at you as he walked towards your relaxed frame, one knee pulled to your chest as the other dangled above the city below. Your arms were wrapped around your leg and your chin rested on it. 

He slowly moved himself onto the ledge, his extra arms helping to keep balance and not fall off the building. Your spider senses had made it so you didn’t get nervous with heights, but he was still vulnerable to them. 

You were dressed in sweatpants and a simple shirt. Your shirt was clearly not enough to keep you warm in the November air, but you hated swinging in a jacket, so you put up with the sting. If anything it made you more alert. Still, you were shivering, and Otto could see it easily. 

He quietly removed his long outer layer jacket, laying it next to him. Then he removed the smaller sweater he wore underneath in the colder months. He handed it to two of the metal arms, and they whirred as they neared you. You didn’t look at him, only out at the city. It was quiet, peaceful, and for some reason you enjoyed just having him there next to you. It wasn’t until you felt the tap of a metal arm on your head. You looked up and saw them holding the dark red sweater and you hesitantly put your arms through it. 

The heat enveloped you, and you could smell his scent on it. It was rich with the scent of vanilla cologne and whiskey. You made another mental note to add to the one before. Never wash this sweater. 

When you looked at him he was wearing the outer jacket again, and he was close to you. The closest he’d ever been to you without actively trying to kill you. You looked back out at the city. 

“Aren’t you tired?” He broke the silence. It was a stretch, being out this late and expecting to find you. Even heroes needed their sleep. 

“Don’t worry about me. I’m fine.” You responded, pulling the sweater tightly around yourself. It was considerably larger than you, given the size of the man. It felt like a constant hug. You didn’t want to look at him. You didn’t want to be caught in his eyes, in his presence. You could feel the cut on your leg burning, but you kept telling yourself it's small, it’ll heal. 

“Y/N..” Otto began, his voice tender and quiet, and you went to turn to him. 

Until you could feel blood dripping from your foot down to the street below. You looked down and could see a large bloodstain pooling in the fabric of your sweatpants. You reached your hand to touch it, to make sure it was real, and when you picked it up you felt light headed, looking at your hand covered in blood. 

He had been looking out at the stars when he noticed you looking down. When he saw your leg, his eyes darkened. 

“Y/N what is that.” He stood up and walked around you to see your leg that had been hidden from sight until now. He was panicked. 

“Who did this to you?” He asked, pulling you from the ledge where you’d started swaying from light headedness. His voice was dark, a way you’d never heard him speak. “Y/N talk to me.” he pulled you up standing, and you looked down, not wanting to look up at him. The metal arms were frenzied now, trying to look at you, at your leg. They were as worried as he was.

“No one, just some low level criminal…” You were dizzy, now realizing how much blood you had been losing. Your legs began giving out on you, but before you could fall a cold, metal tentacle was wrapped around you. You could hear whirring around you and you placed a hand on his chest as you leaned into him. “Otto, I don't feel good..” You looked up at him.

His face was pure panic. You’d never seen him like this, not since the failed demonstration which caused all this madness. He was utterly terrified. 

Filled with the fear of losing you, losing you to some low level criminal with a switchblade. He wouldn’t let this be the end for you two, you had so much to go though yet. 

“Y/N stay with me.” he said, scooping you up in his arms as his metal appendages began descending from the building. His voice was frantic. “Y/N please look at me!” he placed one of his human hands on your cheek, shaking you lightly. Your eyes opened quickly but began drifting closed immediately. The speed at which he was climbing down the building was faster than he had ever done before, and soon he was leaping from building to building. 

His mind was flooded with all the things that he needed to tell you. All the things he wanted to do with you. He wanted to tell you that before you’d looked down and discovered this wound he was about to tell you how he really felt about you. But now there was a chance he’d never be able to tell you these things. 

The thought put a stinging pain in his chest, one he’d only felt once before. It pushed him to leap from building to building quicker than ever before. 

He couldn’t lose you. 

Your eyes drifted open for another moment, looking up at the handsome man holding you. You thought to yourself, how caring he truly was, and that there’s hope that Otto is still in there. 

Until your sight turned to darkness.

Notes: Please let me know what you think! I love feedback :) I’m looking forward to writing chapter 2!

Here is my masterlist <3 

Taglist: @meiliariotz​ (Message me or send an ask if you’d like to be added to the taglist!

[inkykeiji]

you’re like a drug to me, a luxury, my sugar and gold

character: gojou satoru

genre: smut with a sprinkle of fluff at the end

notes: aaaaah first jjk fic ever!!!! uhhh this is honestly just pure smut and punishment, satoru is a Bad Daddy, and it’s set in a curseless AU | title cred: handclap by fitz and the tantrums

warnings: 18+ minors dni, dubcon/noncon, slight size difference/size kink, belly bulge, spanking with a belt, rough sex, minimal prep, minimal aftercare (at first), toxic and unhealthy relationship (satoru is mean n a bad daddy!), daddy kink/slightly implied ddlg dynamics, praise kink, dacryphilia

words: 3.1k

synopsis:

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

Gojou Satoru is a bad Daddy.

He’s a sweet Daddy, a silly Daddy, a Daddy who’s almost incapable of saying no. He’s a Daddy with a massive sweet tooth, a Daddy who frequently allows both of you to have dessert before dinner—sometimes dessert for dinner—and a Daddy who gives his princess nearly everything she desires, weak to your pretty pout and puppy-dog eyes and please, Daddy?’s. He hates to deny you, aches at the thought of you being even just a teensy bit displeased, because he wants his baby happy, always.

It’s his fault, really, you’re saying, insisting, when he calls you a spoiled brat. Because, honestly, it is; Satoru is entitled—he always has been, born with a not silver, not gold, but platinum spoon in his mouth—and his little princess is entitled, too.

Because he gives you anything and everything you ask for the moment the demand leaves your mouth, dotes on you hand and foot, absolutely adores you, lavishing you in the finest silks and prettiest lace, always indulging you just as much as he indulges himself—as much as he has always been indulged, growing up filthy rich.

Because you weren’t always like this; or, at least, you weren’t always this brash about it.

But years of getting exactly what you want, exactly when you want it, has forced your attitude to change, to shift.

You haven’t changed, Satoru tells you one day, a tub full of melty ice cream in his lap as he shovels another spoonful into your mouth, waning sun bathing the penthouse terrace in translucent gold and coral, brilliant colours reflected in his crystal eyes. “I didn’t do anything—I simply revealed your true nature,” A devious little smirk spreads across his lips, eyes glinting in an almost ominous nature, and you shiver. “You’ve always been a selfish materialistic brat, haven’t you?”

Well, you guess he has a point.

And although you can—and do—get away with a lot, you can’t get away with everything. A little brattiness he can handle, a little brattiness he thinks is cute. But on the days when you’re really misbehaving, purposefully (or not) breaking every rule, acting out and refusing to listen, rejecting any bargain or compromise with him at all—well, he’s only human.

And he snaps.

It’s always something little, after a day full of disobedience, that does it, that finally lights the fuse and forces an explosion. Something that would normally be inconsequential, something he’d usually laugh off with a coo and a loving pat to your head.

Because you fought him on bedtime last night, then fought him on going to university this morning. You demanded pancakes for breakfast and when he denied them to you, because he’s got an important meeting in the afternoon and thus hasn’t the time to make them, you refused to eat anything at all—only to whine and bitch and complain about how starved you were for the entire duration of his conference. And yet, throughout it all, he was the perfect picture of patience, endlessly cool and nonchalant in his responses to your multiple tantrums.

Until you rushed into the kitchen in a famished frenzy, diving straight for the cookie jar and shoving three in your mouth.

“Sweets are not an appropriate dinner, baby,”

The words are sighed out in pure exasperation, his thumb and his forefinger pinching the bridge of his nose, lids shut tightly.

Eyebrows furrowing, you tilt your head in confusion, speaking around your mouthful. “Since when?”

His eyes snap open, blazing azure glaring at you with such an intensity it makes you flinch, cookie crumbs turning to ash in your mouth.

“Since forever,” he seethes, mask of impassivity finally beginning to break.

“What?” you laugh around the word, but it trembles. “What are you talking about? You rarely enforce that rule—especially since you don’t even follow it yourself!”

“It doesn’t matter,” he snaps, nostrils flaring with a particularly harsh exhale. “I am the boss, and what I say goes,”

“Daddy!” A sock-clad foot stomps against the marble floor as you whine out the word, arms crossing tightly over your chest. “That isn’t fair! You can’t just—”

“Enough with this attitude!” he snarls, moving like a crack of lighting as he lunges at you, lithe arms embracing you in an iron grip. “I can, and I will,”

And then he’s hauling you over his shoulder, one strong arm wrapped around you and pinning you draped over his body, delivering swift, harsh slaps to your ass every time you kick your feet or beat your fists against his back, while every whine and complaint earns you another spank in his mind, mentally tallying them up and vocalizing the thought a moment later.

“You’re being a meanie,”

“That’s twelve,” he growls.

“I don’t care!”

“Thirteen.”

“So what?”

“Fourteen.”

“That’s nothing,”

“Twenty-five.”

And that—that gets you to pause, but not to halt, not to stop, potent brattiness mixing with fury as it boils in your chest, the need to defy, to disobey, burning through your veins.

“I-I can handle that,”

“Thirty,” his voice is calm—serene, almost—and ice cold. There’s an underlying challenge sown into it, daring you to try him again, to utter another word. He’ll go higher, you can almost hear his apathetic voice floating through your mind; he’ll go as high as he needs to in order to teach such an ungrateful little brat a lesson.

Thirty it is.

The buckle of his favourite belt jingles as he undoes it, that dainty clink! forcing shivers to pebble across your naked skin, pressing your chest further into the foot of his bed, fingers curling in cashmere.

You’ve developed a love-hate relationship with that belt; it’s so fun when you get to undo it yourself, gentle fingers tugging and toying as you squirm eagerly in his lap, yet the clank and clattering of that heavy buckle as nimble fingers skillfully unfasten it and pull it from the loops of expensive trousers is almost menacing, carrying with it portentous threats it fully intends to see through.

He never warns you when the first strike is coming, reveling in the way your muscles are coiled in tension, in foreboding anticipation; basking in the surprised yelp that bubbles up in your throat.

“Relax,” he tells you with a callous chuckle, leather squealing between large, smooth hands as he folds it. “And count,”

It’s his usual response, predictable and scripted by this point, but he never seems to tire of it, notes of delight lacing his voice.

And that first blow never counts.

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy by most standards, but his punishments are harsh, brutal, and cruel, and they happen to be one of the only things he takes seriously in life.

There’s rules to each of his punishments—so many rules he’s made you write them out multiple times, until your hand ached and fingers cramped and the heel of your palm was swollen, so they’d stick in that pretty empty little head of yours, so you never forget—and his spankings are no different.

You are not to move until he tells you to. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are to count each lash, loud and clear before the next strike lands. Each mistake, each misstep and slip-up and refusal to comply, will earn you one extra slap. The tool is to be decided based on the severity of the offence.  

The belt, all rigid rawhide and sharp edges, cuts into the supple flesh of your ass with each easy, nonchalant flick of his wrist, abrasively snapping against you.

Each collision of leather against flesh sears a tingly sting into your skin, biting rapidly rising welts into your ass and sending spiky jolts of agonizing pain bolting up your spine, the pain fading to a dull throb for just a moment before another blow is delivered.

“Gorgeous,” Satoru murmurs to himself halfway through your punishment, the word nothing more than a little huff of breath. You don’t dare respond, simply crying out the next number as he lands another harsh blow to your abused skin. He doesn’t think he’s ever heard a more beautiful sound, he continues, voice appearing faint and far away, mingling with the combined symphony of the crack of leather and pathetic whimpers muffled by sheets.

“It’s incredible,” he says, louder this time, voice dripping with wonderment, as if he can’t believe he’s created such a magnificent piece—the streaks of blood staining once perfect, unblemished skin; the high-pitched whines and sharp cries of each subsequent number; the resounding slap of the belt against your bare ass that evokes it all.

The whole thing sends a surge of intense power rushing through his veins, the tingling buzz it leaves behind enthralling and invigorating. You don’t need to look at him to know this, don’t need to see the way his eyes shine with it, the way his chest heaves with it, the way his entire body trembles with it—you can feel it in the atmosphere surrounding you, can feel the shift as his ego saturates the air, as his pure superiority bleeds into it, dense and suffocating, stimulating and revitalizing.

It infects your body, seeping in through your skin and flooding your veins, re-instills the need to be submissive, the ache to be good, providing you with the strength to endure.

The punishment lasts for forty-five excruciating minutes, accumulating a total of thirty three spanks—the extra three tacked onto your original punishment of thirty, one for each time you broke a rule. He’s on you in less than a second the moment it’s over, belt dropping to the rug-covered floor with a distinct thump as soft, eager palms roam your sweaty body, lips crushed against yours, still trembling as they spill pitiful whimpers into his mouth.

The luxurious bedroom—all cream and gold and drenched in sunlight—is blanketed by backhanded praises, warning you not to be a brat and just take what he gives. He’s sadistic when he gets in moods such as these, a feral glint in crystal eyes as large hands hastily flip you over—so fast it knocks a gasp of his name from your chest—seemingly unconcerned about the fresh blood oozing from the thin swollen welts that embellish your ass staining his thousand dollar sheets.

“Daddy needs you now,” he growls when you try to protest, breathing erratic as fingers flex on your hips, squeezing and kneading before pressing down hard, a silent order to stay fucking put. “And you’re going to be a good little girl for your Daddy now, aren’t you?”

Of course. Of course, because you are a good little girl, his good little girl.

But he’s a bad Daddy.

And, like a bad Daddy, he defers aftercare—it can wait, he practically snarls as he drags you to the edge of the bed, folding your legs up on either side of your body, knees nearly nudging your jaw; and foregoes prep almost entirely—two slender fingers slipping between your slick folds, prodding your hole and deeming you wet enough to take him.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t absolutely love it when he gets like this, when that façade of indifference finally shatters to pieces, replaced with desperation, with urgency, with neediness.

Your head lifts from the plush mattress, neck straining a little as you watch him push his trousers down his thighs through bleary eyes, residual dewdrops of tears clinging to spidery lashes. His cock bobs a little as he kicks the pants off, and it’s just as pretty as he is, smooth and symmetrical and perfect in every way.

“This would be part of your punishment,” he pants out, speaking over your cry of discomfort as he begins to shove his cock into you, little cunt aching as it attempts to accommodate the sudden intrusion. “If you didn’t love it so much, fucking slut,”

“Daddy!” The pet name claws its way up your throat in a yelp, hands scrabbling against his shoulders, nails digging into his flesh through his Armani button-up in an effort to steady yourself, eyes squeezing shut against the severe burn that accompanies the stretch. “Gonna—Gonna tear me in half,”

“You’d think you’d be used to this by now,” Satoru muses, voice already returning to its apathetic playful lilt now that he’s half buried in your cunt, breathing already calmed. A malicious little smirk decorates his lips and he observes you as if awestruck, one of his hands moving to trace the curve of your cheek, cold fingertips soft against your scalding skin.

“So beautiful like this,” he whispers as he finally bottoms out, hips pressed flush against the back of your thighs.

And you are, fresh tears that glitter the way his eyes do in the waning sun streaming down your cheeks, leaving the prettiest streaks of salt staining your flesh; lips swollen from merciless teeth sinking into them, an attempt to silence yourself, to keep those whines and complaints of Stop, Daddy! and Hurts, Daddy! safely stored in your throat.

Your little hole flutters around him, still struggling to adjust to his girth, and his head droops forward, long tongue unfurling from his mouth to lap at the bitter water adorning your face, slow languid strokes from your jaw to your bottom lashes, replacing shimmering tears with viscous saliva.

Saccharine sugar stings your nose, sticky toffee bathed in decadent chocolate and garnished with a touch of vanilla enveloping you in a sickly sweet embrace.

Such a scent—his scent—starkly opposes the vicious snapping of his hips, setting a merciless pace from the very start, blunt nails biting deep half-crescents into your flesh as they hold you in place.

But the pain only heightens the pleasure, contradicting sensations clashing together with every one of his brutal thrusts, cashmere feeling as rough as sandpaper against your raw, wounded ass. Thorns of pain pierce through your abdomen and shoot up your spine, back arching off the bed, and the muscles in your thighs flex and clench with every slam of his cockhead against your cervix.

It’s potent and intoxicating, a heady exhilaration clouding your brain and flooding your veins, and soon there are tears leaking from your eyes again, dribbling into your mouth and mixing with strings of drool that coat the words you’re babbling out.

Blood rushes in your ears, procuring a deafening ring, and you’re not even sure what you’re saying anymore, voice vibrating indistinctly in your chest as saliva soaked mewls ooze from your mouth. Your Daddy’s staring down at you, condescension etched into his pretty features, eyes morphing from dainty crystal to the navy of a tumultuous sea, framed by strands of cream and ivory dripping with sweat.

And he’s so big, too big, stuffing you full to the hilt with each ruthless piston of his hips, mattress trembling beneath you from the sheer strength; and it’s so much, too much, you swear you can feel him in your tummy, can see the way your lower abdomen cutely bulges in synchronization with every pounding thrust.

You must say it in some way, in some shape or some form, because the patronization varnishing his features melts away, sharp smirk dissolving into a genuine grin, blue eyes lightening with pure adoration.

“Such a good girl,” you think he’s saying, through it’s hard to tell when your eyelids keep drooping, hard to hear when a symphony of broken moans and hitched whimpers and the sharp slapping of skin against skin blanket the room, reverberating off the walls of your skull. “You’re such a good, good girl for me,”

Yes, Daddy, you want to say, such a good girl for you, only for you.

“Y-Yours,” you manage instead, locking your arms around his neck and clinging to him.

“Mine,” he growls, possessiveness lacquering his eyes, brilliant and bright and shining with devotion. “That’s right, mine,”

It only takes another three thrusts before you’re gushing all over his cock, the intense spasming of your cute little cunt drawing the prettiest whines from the back of his throat as he rams into you.

“Beg for it,” he demands, and although it’s an order, it comes out more like a plead, desperation sown into his voice. “Beg for Daddy’s cum,”

You obey immediately, words spilling from your lips without a second thought, automatic and instinctual. Please, Daddy, gimme your cum? Please, please, pretty please, want your cum, Daddy, fill my belly with it, Daddy, I need it, need it so bad, please?

He gives you what you want only a moment later, cock throbbing almost violently as he fills you with thick, scalding cream—so much that you’re sure it’s dribbling out of you, trickling down your ass and onto his pristine sheets—and you roll your hips up, attempting to milk him for more.

“G-Greedy,” he pants out, but there’s a dazzling smile slapped across his face, and so much love in his eyes it’s nearly overwhelming, a fresh wave of tears casting a gleaming shield across your own.

He notices immediately, both of you wincing a little as he pulls out, a wrecked little whine escaping your mouth.

“My poor little princess,” he’s saying as he untangles his briefs—Balenciaga, this time—from his trousers, abandoned in a heap on the hardwood.

“Daddy,” you rasp, a frown marring his face, fingers encircling your ankles as he helps you unfold your stiff legs.

“I know, I know,” he’s murmuring as gentle hands pull the soft clothing up your silky thighs. “It hurts, I know baby, Daddy’s gonna make it feel better now,”

A shiver courses through your body, and he tuts, nimble fingers making quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off before he hoists you up and drapes it over your shoulders, tenderly threading your arms through the sleeves.

It’s cozy, and warm, infused with his scent—melted sugar and expensive cologne—and you snuggle into it, weak arms pulling the material tighter around your body, swathing it in comfort. Tears prick your eyes again, blearily blinking them clear as you glance up to find him backing away. A noise of indignance sounds in the back of your throat, eyebrows knitting together as you make grabby hands for him.

“I’ll be right back, princess,” he reassures you as he laces your fingers together and allows you to pull him back towards you, voice soothing like a lullaby. Fingers trail along the curve of your cheek then trace the line of your jaw, palms smoothing hair back from your face. “Daddy’s just going to go get the first aid kit so he can clean you up, okay?”

“‘N then food?”

He coos with a little chuckle, cupping your head as he tilts it up towards him, eyes overflowing with fondness.

“Yeah, baby, and then food. Whatever you want, it’s yours,”

Gojou Satoru may be a bad Daddy, but he is also your Daddy, and that makes him the best Daddy.

[popitdontdropitwrites]

"Crooked Smile" Medic x Sniper (Oneshot)🔞

Summary: The Medic is a perfectionist when it comes to the health of his team. When he notices the Sniper’s crooked teeth, he cannot control the compulsion to correct them, which leads to him rediscovering the perverted root of his obsession: all that is twisted, imperfect and corrupt in the bodies of men.

Words: ~5000

CW: Attempted tooth pulling (Unsuccessful and not very graphic), blood (not graphic), cursing, NSFW, kinks (biting, sexual deviancy - as in attraction to 'ugly' physical traits, or more accurately, Medic has strange tastes in men.)

You can also read this fic on ao3 here

The Medic could not help but notice that they were crooked.

After all of this time, Ludwig had failed to see it, despite how glaringly out of line they all were. It was almost like gazing into an overstuffed bookshelf, only all the books had been hastily forced into place, regardless of whether they could all fit or not. He chewed his lip as a new bone of imperfection lodged itself in his throat, joining the others – another addition to the long list of things he needed to fix. Though he told himself that such an intensive procedure was not at all necessary, as this was purely a cosmetic issue, it bothered him all the same, just like the rest. This was not a small imperfection, one that could be forgiven or simply ignored, no, it was an utter insult to beauty as a whole. It disgusted Ludwig, not in the way a fatty liver or stomach ulcer would, as such things were cleverly hidden beneath the surface and out of sight, but this spat in his face with how blatant it was.

The only thing that had masked it for so painfully long was the Sniper’s tendency not to smile. Today, Mundy had mistakenly offered a toothy grin after singlehandedly annihilating the enemy team, revealing rows upon rows of crooked, misaligned teeth, many of which were of unusual lengths, likely due to wear and of course, collisions with their brethren, creating one of the most staggeringly unsettling smiles Ludwig had ever seen. If he was not so desperately needed on the field, he would have pulled the Australian aside, strapped him down to his finest operating table and done anything and everything to correct them as soon as humanly possible.

Now, far from the field in the comfort of his own bedroom, it was quite literally keeping him up at night. All hope of sleep had been thrown out the window and instead, he worked at his desk under tired lamplight. He groaned, rubbing his eyes as if to remove the image of the Australian’s mouth from his head. Realistically, it was not any of his business, but he told himself that he was his doctor and surely that warranted an innocent clean and perhaps a check-up… in which he could conveniently point out his need to align them properly… and then hastily fix them with the help of the Medigun. That way he would never have to think about them again and the Sniper could have the perfect smile he needed. Everyone would have what they wanted in the end, and most of all, he could have some peace of mind. Perhaps he could even cough up the bone tickling and taunting his throat and just maybe, the rest would come out with it.

But for that, he would need to wait until tomorrow. Ludwig couldn’t exactly knock on the door of the van at this time of night, demanding to see the man’s teeth. No, that would make him look like even more of a lunatic and the odds were he’d end up with his own teeth knocked out by the Australian’s fists. He sighed, clicking the end of his pen, drawing a coo out of Archimedes, who was also frustrated with his sleeplessness. No doubt, he would be cross with him tomorrow. He rested his head in his hands, now unable to work as well. Those teeth of his were gnawing at his mind now, irritating him to no end with the fact that he was unable to do anything about their flawed appearance. Mundy’s angular, irregular fangs bore into his brain and his skin, making it crawl with tingly repulsion. He shuddered, turning cold as he raked his nails into his head, trying to shut up his need to meddle. But he couldn’t quiet it, rather, it turned to screams and shrieks so loud that he could not take it any longer. He stood up, fumbling for the syringe gun he had stowed away for an emergency like this and the very moment he picked it up, the door opened.

He pretended he had been looking for something and turned towards the entryway, only to see the Sniper standing there, as if fate had answered the voices screaming for the bushman.

“Ah, hello, herr Sniper.” Ludwig said casually, as if he had not been planning on threatening him with a sedative just seconds ago. “What is it that you are after?”

“I’ve got a bloody awful headache.” He spat, looking annoyed as he wandered towards the medical cabinet in search of painkillers.

“Ach, it is probably all the coffee you drink. You may want to have less from now on, hm?” He offered; his eyes fixed upon the man’s mouth as he talked.

The Sniper swallowed two pills without any water. “I haven’t had problems before. I reckon this one’s jus’ an extra one, y’know, for fun or somethin’.” He turned to leave, and Ludwig swallowed nervously, knowing he had to ask now or never.

“Wait,” He said, sounding slightly too urgent for comfort as he stepped in front of Mundy. “While you are here, I was thinking that perhaps it would be wise to have a check-up. It has been a while, after all.” He smiled uncomfortably, trying in vain to hide his fidgety hands.

The Sniper did not buy it, as indicated by the souring of his expression. “Nah, doc. I’m gonna go have a lie down.”

“You can have one over there if you would like,” He offered, his voice turning frantic. “Bitte, it will not take long.” He lied, failing to sound at all convincing.

The Sniper merely pushed past him, growing annoyed with him now. “Fuck off, mate. I’m not interested on havin’ my organs put on display right now.”

“You may want to change your mind.” He warned, retrieving his syringe gun, and pointing it at the Sniper. “These here are filled with a particularly potent sedative, which will render you unconscious nearly instantly. If you would like to be at my mercy for hours, you are welcome to attempt to leave.” He threatened, noticing how the bushman stopped. “But if you would prefer a quick look-over, sit down on that table there for me.”

With a spiteful look, Mundy did as he was asked. He perched himself on the operating table, his arms folded and his glare sharp enough to cut. The Medic sanitised his hands and snapped on a pair of gloves before approaching the grumpy Australian. Though he called this a look-over, there was only one thing he wanted to see.

He fetched a nearby tongue depressor and bit back his smile. “Say ‘ah’ for me, bitte.”

“Nah, I—” He poked it in while the man talked, shutting him up.

Though he should have been looking at the throat, he instead examined the man’s teeth, letting out a disapproving hum at the state of them. It was even worse than he initially thought. While they were not at all infested with filth, they made up for that by being horrifically crooked. He absentmindedly used his fingers to get a better look at them, peeling back his lip to—

The bushman bit down on his prodding fingers with force, drawing a yelp out of Ludwig. “What’re ya doin’ pokin’ around in my mouth for?” He snapped, his irritation plain as day.

“It appears that your teeth are crowded, herr Sniper.”

“Why would I give a rat’s arse about that? They’re jus’ teeth. I eat with ‘em jus’ fine and bite pretty fuckin’ well too.” He gave Ludwig a look as he said the last part. “I bet that’s bleedin’ like hell now.”

“Oh, it is.” He added, looking at the small bead of blood seeping out from the tear in his glove. Against his better judgement, he sucked it off, quietly wondering if he would end up rabid and foaming from the mouth later. “You should care about the state of your teeth, Mundy.” He retorted. “Like this, they may wear out and then you will be in a world of pain. Only then will you complain and whine that it needs to be fixed. I am hoping to prevent any future suffering.”

“By what, rippin’ them all out?” He scoffed. “You’re no dentist.”

“That is where you are wrong.” He pulled the mounted Medigun over and flicked it on. “With this, I can be anything.”

The Sniper’s eyes widened in fear. “You’re not shovin’ your hands in my gob again.” He snarled, hastily getting up to leave.

Ludwig put a hand on his chest, holding him down. “Mm, I think I will be.” His free hand fumbled for the button under the table, and he shoved the taller man down before pressing it, timing it just right so that restraints snapped around his limbs, surprising him.

He squirmed in his restraints, as if that could possibly save him now. “You’re keepin’ me awake for this?” He cried out, as if begging to be put to sleep. From his tone alone, Ludwig figured that the Australian was not planning on making this easy for him. While it would make it so much easier to operate on an unconscious patient, Ludwig much preferred for his subjects to be wide awake for the process… for personal reasons.

“Oh, yes, very awake, my friend...” He affirmed, allowing himself to grin, revealing his own straightened, perfected smile.

“You’re a fuckin’ fruitcake.” He growled, the words rumbling like infuriated thunder from his lips.

“I know.” He muttered as he fetched his tools. Mundy had been correct in saying that he was not a dentist, but with some trial and error, Ludwig could get this right.

When the Sniper’s eyes met the pliers in his hand, they widened and he began to thrash about, like a fish stuck on land. “You’re bloody mad! Get those things away from me!” He shrieked.

“Hold still.” He requested, knowing full well that such a thing was an impossibility. He had to wonder what the bushman’s screams sounded like, perhaps they were loud, hoarse, and gravelly… raw just as Ludwig liked them. A cruel giddiness swelled within him at the thought of wringing such volume from a reserved man like Mundy. He intended to preserve his collection of cries in the dark recesses of his excitable mind, allowing them to meld with his deranged thoughts, fusing together until they were indistinguishable from the chipper, distorted laughter of insanity.

As the pliers neared the bushman’s mouth, innumerable curses spilled from his lips and he wildly jolted away from them, fortuitously feeding his fear to the Medic, entrancing him in it and only worsening his desire to take his sweet time with this. He forced the man’s mouth open with one hand, and with the other, gripped the most egregious of his many sinning teeth and began to pull, much to the Sniper’s horror. He squirmed and fought, making his job as difficult as possible. When that didn’t work and he managed to maintain his hold, Mundy pulled a dirty trick.

A devilish smirk spread on the corners of the Sniper’s open lips, and he spat forcefully, giving him a mouthful of saliva to wipe off from his face. He flinched and snaggleteeth locked around his gloved thumb, biting down on the material, piercing his skin.

Ludwig stumbled back, clutching his wounded hand, staring at the Sniper in shock. The pain, as temporary as it was, excited him just as much as the prospect of this procedure. A distinct series of marks graced his skin, reflective of the demented mouth that had torn it, almost like a mirror. He licked his lips, gazing upon the symbol of deviation and perversion embedded into his very flesh. It shone under the lights of the infirmary, as if glowing in its unnatural glory. Blood seeped out of his glove in a greater volume than expected and face flushed hot, from the dizzying rush that accompanied adrenaline.

He ripped his gloves off, revealing his reddened, aching hands. “You are going to regret that.” He warned, pointing at the man, his cowlick drooping over his forehead.

The Sniper cocked a brow, mocking him. “Am I now?”

He grew far more forceful than before, practically tearing the man’s mouth open to reveal his twisted teeth before attempting to use the pliers once again, but the Sniper chuckled to himself, causing him to stop.

“What are you laughing at?” He huffed, meeting Mundy’s mischievous green eyes.

“Nothin’.” The Sniper said, the word sloshed as Ludwig held his jaw open.

“I am not sure if I believe that…” He responded softly, his attention settling on the canines that had bit him. He would deal with them first, as could not allow himself to lose himself in the corruption of it all. His free hand kept the bushman from biting, though he tried desperately to nip him again. The grabbing fingers of his forceps locked around the tooth, tugging at it with confidence, knowing they could tease it out and coax in a new, pretty replacement under the beam of the Medigun. A little bit of pain would make it so worth it…

The Sniper used his fading focus to bite down hard this time, tearing into his bare skin, deepening his wounds, and intensifying the pain so much so that it left his heart racing.

His eyes remained fixed on the bushman, looking at him with both distain and awe. The gall of this man was just as disturbing as it was impressive… and Ludwig quite liked how the two melded together. Despite how uncooperative his patient was being, the darkness inside of him swelled, delighted by it. It had been a long time since one of his unwilling patients had been frightened enough to snap and snarl like a common beast… To say he had a weakness for such a thing was an understatement, for it rendered him embarrassingly vulnerable to all of the foul temptations he tried so desperately to abate. The act of biting itself, though it was inherently and deeply barbaric, it also bore an unmistakable level of intimacy to it and thus he found himself craving another.

“Ya liked that, did ya, doc?” Ludwig tensed at his question, first shocked by it. But then it dawned upon him that Mundy was a man of a similar breed – a man with peculiar, distinctly disturbing taste and only now could he sense it, the hidden flavours of depravity, narrowly masked by those of battle.

Perhaps his dark, hidden desires had been seen by the marksman… but then again, he was not exactly hiding it anymore. It occurred to him exactly what Mundy had been laughing at. “Why would it matter if I did? I have no plans of halting this procedure.”

“Plans change.” Mundy suggested, his tone shifting ever so slightly as to indicate he had something in mind. “Especially if ya were to… I dunno… get a better offer than rippin’ a bloke’s teeth out?” A sly smile toyed at the man’s lips as he effortlessly seized control of the situation.

The Medic paid more attention than he would have liked to, a dead giveaway that he was very interested in whatever his comrade had in mind for them. “Not much could change my mind at this stage. The way I see it, these ugly things must be replaced.”

“Ah, but here’s the thing, mate,” He spoke slowly and lowly, ensuring he would hang on to every word. “Ya don’t think they’re ugly do ya?” He taunted, pointing to his sinister, unusual smile. “Ya can deny it all you want and go right back to tryin’ the pliers, but you’ll only end up gettin’ bitten over and over again. And what then, doc? Jus’ admit it… make it easy for the both of us.”

The truth to his words pained Ludwig, turning the bone in his throat sharp enough to pierce through his neck. Ludwig did think they were unsightly, but that made them enticingly disgusting to his perverse mind, unique, unlike any other, corrupted, and disturbing, so much so that he could not resist them and the only way to stop himself was to rip them out. Beauty’s mundanity starved the gnarled, twisted beast of lust within him, but on the bountiful ugliness of men, it grew fat and purred with satisfaction.

“Very well,” He mustered quietly. “I admit it. I like them far more than I should.”

“That’s what I thought.” Mundy said, audibly chuffed with himself. “Now, how about instead of tryin’ to work with the biggest hard-on I’ve seen in my entire life, you quit with the teeth pullin’ and I sort that out for ya?” His eyes darted downward, suggesting something the Medic quite liked. “Only if ya unchain me, of course.” He gave him a sly, charming wink and clicked his tongue.

But he stopped himself from immediately giving in. This was Mundy he was dealing with. There had to be some kind of deadly catch. “How can I trust you to fulfil your end of the bargain? For all I know, you intend to run from me.”

Mundy licked his teeth, his stare sharpening in slight offence. “Way I see it, if I can keep my teeth for good and have a real pretty bloke all to myself for a bit, that’s a bloody good bargain. I’d be an idiot to run from that.”

Ludwig believed him, after all, the soft touch of another rarely came on the harsh battlefield, unless such things were imagined or, occasionally, when one was desperate enough, sought from unkept, calloused, hair-laden hands. Unlike most of his comrades, he did not have to be desperate to desire the company of men and it appeared that Mundy was of a similar mindset, or maybe, he was eager to take what he could get. Either way, he was more than a suitable partner.

Perhaps he could continue to be in the future.

Ludwig released his restraints and the bushman sighed out in relief. “What did you have in mind for us, Mundy?”

“Nothin’ special.” He said, his long, bony fingers undoing the buttons of his vest and then his shirt, allowing Ludwig to shrug both items off, revealing his bare chest. The bushman let out a wolf whistle, his eyes darting downward. “Bloody hell, must be my lucky day, eh?” He commented, licking his lips at the dark curls complementing his generously sized pecs.

“You could be lucky very often if you play nice.”

He thumbed a pert, attentive nipple, sending a jolt of anticipative warmth through Ludwig. “I don’t do nice.” He said, opting to pinch it, drawing a wince out of the older man. “And you’re gonna love it, I promise ya that.” The Sniper unfastened the Medic’s belt, and his pants soon came off with them. He bent down to kick off his boots but a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “The boots are stayin’ on,” He commanded, the words turning to harsh growls.

“As you wish,” Ludwig said obediently, rapidly realising that the Sniper had no intentions of undressing, establishing himself as the one in control, as if such a thing had been necessary.

The bushman pulled him in close, his emerald eyes alight with desire as he looked him over again, admiring his figure. He so wished he could do the same to Mundy, as his mind conjured up an endless number of tiny, pretty imperfections for him to gawk at and lovingly touch. Scars, warts, burns and all the subtle, typically unwanted signs of age creeping upon the Sniper… the wrinkling of the hands, the fissures of crow’s feet beginning to form, the veins emerging from beneath the skin as grotesque protrusions… All of which were just as beautiful as the last.

Mundy’s fingers ran up the Medic’s neck, before gripping his chin and rolling the stubble in his fingers. “Off with the fairies are we, doc?” He taunted, squeezing hard.

“Mm, only briefly.” He responded, awaiting a suitable punishment for kneeling to his distracted thoughts.

Mundy bowed his head and the only warning he received was the graze of teeth against his neck before the man bit down on the sensitive skin, nibbling at it before suckling the wound, intent on creating very visible marks. He pulled away slowly and whispered in his ear, the heat of his breath tickling him. “What were ya thinkin’ about?” It wasn’t so much as a question as a demand to know.

“All of the filthy secrets you are hiding from me.” He tugged on the man’s shirt, silently asking him to remove it.

The bushman bit him again, harder this time, making him cry out in a thrilling mix of pain and pleasure. “I’ll only show ya if I think ya really deserve to.”

“I am your doctor, herr Sniper,” He pleaded, his voice little more than a pitiful whisper, rendered weak and breathy after being bitten and gnawed. “I must see.”

In return for that answer, he was bitten again, this time on the shoulder. He shuddered all over, his cock now insufferably hard and throbbing, begging to be touched. For now, the Australian ignored it. “If you know what’s good for ya, you’ll wait.” He snickered, his clever fingers wandering downward, tracing the line of curly, dark hair leading down to his reddened cock, playing with it, teasing him with the idea of finally being touched.

“Bitte,” He whined, begging for multiple things now – another bite, a firmer touch and just a glimpse of the wonderfully flawed body before him.

The bushman’s tongue rolled downward in a near bestial display of lust and concluded its journey by toying with his nipple, teasing him again. His mouth locked around the plump flesh around it and bore down, his uneven teeth branding his pecs with distinctive reddened marks. He let out a gasp, his skin burning ever hotter at the increasingly satisfying pain and better yet, the mark to remember it by. His mouth went to the other, his hand finally closing around his needy dick and giving it a single pump as he bit down, wringing out an embarrassingly wanting whimper. He stroked it at a slow, but steadily increasing pace as his mouth wandered further, his breaths warming his skin as he neared his stomach. He planted a kiss on it, the only warning he got before he nipped his belly, rubbing the newly formed, stinging wound and looking up at Ludwig with the smugness of a man who had reduced another to trembling, submissive ruins. Each stroke along the length of his cock became bliss as the addictive pulses of desire melded with the burn of the growing collection of bites on his skin. Looking down at the array of irritated skin brought out the irresistible picture of an entire constellation of them embedded into his skin, all burning like brilliant stars.

He needed to have such a wonderful thing and so naturally, he begged for it. “Again, please. I need you to bite me again.” Hearing his own shaking voice made him feel deliciously vulnerable, as if he had been skinned and laid truly bare by the Sniper. “Please, I need it.” He moaned as a surge of crackling need rose within him, accompanying his partner’s increasingly satisfying pumps.

The bushman lowered down further, running his overgrown nails over his thigh, exploring it as he debated the act, drawing it out to torment Ludwig further. “Only because ya asked me so nicely.” He decided, before violently lunging at the ample flesh and gnawing on it, making the wait oh so worth it. He trailed harsh bites all over his thigh, nipping and nibbling at it, causing precum to leak from the tip of Ludwig’s cock. He jerked him off faster, looking up at him with every bite, forcing his attention down to him, where it belonged.

Ludwig panted out in ecstasy, his mind fogging with the crazed, desperate thoughts of his coming climax. He asked the other man for all of the things he wanted in a tongue he could not possibly understand, which only received a low, rumbling chuckle in return. His cock twitched in the bushman’s hand as he pumped it rapidly, bringing him to the very brink until he could hardly take it and he let out pitifully needy, breathy moans as he reached—

Mundy stopped completely and stood up, revealing an impressive erection straining against his pants.

“What do you think you are doing?”

“I never said that I was gonna make this easy for ya.” He commented casually. “And, ya wanted to see more skin, didn’t ya?”

Mundy lifted his shirt over his head and just that movement alone was enough to distract Ludwig from the fact that he had been made to wait. He looked on with bated breath, admiring the form of the broken creature before him, as if he were a one-of-a-kind antique, only it had been chipped and cracked with time. The damages he bore, the long rake mark across his chest, the moles that appeared like blots on his skin, the purplish scar that had never truly healed on his stomach, the narrow slash on his hip and the endless arrangement of faded wounds all over his skin, like a tapestry in his very flesh. Its fantastic detail and insight into the man’s history left Ludwig mesmerised. It was ghastly in the eyes of many but in his view, there could be nothing more precious. He was allowed to touch his damage, every error tarnishing his body and he ravished them with his touch, his heart beating in his ears as his neglected dick pulsed and throbbed, still waiting to be spoiled. The swell of his climax began to sink as he worshipped every aspect of the imperfect being before him, ravishing and praising his blemishes as if they were his unholy gods.

Mundy’s hand ran through his greying hair, returning him to reality as its companion wrapped around his cock, reminding him of what he had been missing out on for what seemed like an eternity now. He began to stroke it, stimulating the all too familiar swell of excitement that crept higher and higher and warmed more and more until he was burning hot. Ludwig threw his head back, his lips agape as it overwhelmed him, the pleasure far stronger this time. The mounting, incredible tension, heat and pressure seemed to rise higher than it had before and before long the Sniper’s name was on his lips in the form of high screams. He bit his lip, twitches and shudders jolting through him as he bucked into the bushman’s hand, so very close to the peak. The rising pleasure swelled beyond its means, threatening to crash over him and drown him in just seconds, and he allowed it to, if he could only bask in its warmth in return.

And though he waited, that never came. Mundy released him again, the cruelty of such an act stinging Ludwig to his core. “Oh, you are cruel.” He breathed, sneaking a glance at his hard, blushing cock and the trail of shining precum dribbling from the tip, as if it too was drooling for the chance to cum.

“It’s not cruel,” Mundy retorted. “Can’t ya see that I’m doin’ ya a favour?” Mundy curled around him from behind, like a serpent with its fangs pressed to his ear. “You’ll be good and wait.”

The Sniper bit his neck, the warmth of his body burning against Ludwig’s as he trailed both tongue and teeth along his shoulders, his back, the curve of his spine, his hips and he even gave him a mischievous nip on the ass. The unceasing hunger inside of him and the repetitive graze of Mundy’s wonderfully crooked teeth on his skin left him in a satisfied, warm haze. Mundy bit at the back of his thighs, his hands wandering to play with and tease his balls, driving him just about mad before they too, were neglected.

Once he had settled once more, Mundy worked his way back to his dick. “Havin’ fun, doc?” He asked, pumping it hard and fast now, intent on working him up quickly. He had no doubt that he would let go again just as fast.

He could not deny it though. He would gladly participate in this torture forever, entrapped in its hedonistic cycle, building endlessly. “It’s delightful.” He replied, breathing out sharply as again, the sensations crawled all over his every nerve, overstimulating him in all the right ways. He moaned shamelessly, falling in love with the Sniper’s haste to get him off. He wondered if this time, he would be allowed to have relief or if the bushman would make him suffer even more. Either way, he did not mind.

It soon proved to be the latter, as – just as expected – he was made to wait. He relaxed slightly by indulging in the bushman’s body, and this time, their lips met, allowing him to explore the twisted mouth that had seduced him with its hideous allure. He moaned in the other man’s mouth, his hard length meeting the Sniper’s own, rubbing against it through fabric. Just touching the source of his obsession was almost enough to bring him over the edge but he steeled himself, denying himself that pleasure for the moment.

But Mundy granted it to him. He jerked him off, starting a new rhythm, a deliciously hasty, violent pace that did not bear the sickening promise that it would eventually stop. Now, utterly surrounded by corruption, evil and perversion, with his cock in its hands, tears came to his eyes from the strength of his coming orgasm, that pulsed and rippled through him, threatening to tear him in two as it emerged. Ludwig’s moans turned to screams of sheer ecstasy as he came, all thought melting away in its stupefying pleasure as relief washed over him. He slumped, breathing rapidly as the high faded for good.

He knelt before the bushman, who offered him a charming, twisted smile as he unzipped his fly, his mouth watering at the prospect of serving his needs…

Ludwig conceded that Mundy could keep his crooked teeth.

[ianthelordof]

Knit another top!

It looks better on, but I'm not going to post a picture because this is the internet and people are terrible.

Media consumed throughout the knitting process: Shows: Riverdale, Pretty Little Liars: Original Sin, Never Have I Ever, The Sex Lives of College Girls, Good Witch

Fanfiction: (They're all Young Justice fics) Different Kind of Complicated by MyHero Collision of Masks by movaz Terminal Velocity by @novaviis And Somehow I'll Return Again To You by durgasdragon

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