#god writing this felt so good
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"You're afraid of me aren't you?" ~Danzou
I am, was on the tip of Shisui's tongue, but he didn't say it. Even after failing so spectacularly and ending up in DanzĆ's hands, he had thought himself capable of handling the situation, but he had been oh so wrong.
"You don't scare me," he said instead, doing his best to appear more angry than afraid, sure of himself despite his heart beating wildly in his chest and the anxiety rising in his stomach, "you're nothing more than a coward who hides behind his pawns because you're too scared to dirty your hands and face the consequences of your actions."
For a moment Shisui could have sworn he saw DanzĆ's lips twitch upwards in a smirk, but the expression was gone in the blink of an eye, even though a lingering sort of amusement clang to his captor's face. He didn't seem angry at Shisui's words, not even slightly fazed as he walked closer to him, towering over the Uchiha's kneeling form.
"You're still so young, Shisui-kun," DanzĆ's tone sounded sweet and patronizing, almost like the mockery of a grandfather. It made Shisui clench his teeth, fighting down the urge to take a step back. Not that he could, chained to the floor as he was, but he still felt like he wanted to run as far and as fast as he could.
A hand, old and gnarled, grabbed his chin, index finger gently pressing up from under it as DanzĆ took his time turning his face one way or the other, observing him in silence for long seconds while Shisui tried to fight his hold.
"You see, Shisui-kun, sometimes life is like a game of chess," the smirk returned, but this time it stuck around, pulling at DanzĆ's lips like it belonged there, even though Shisui had never before seen the man with nothing but a permanent scowl on his face that was able to put even Fugaku's to shame, "and a King always sends its pawns first."
The pull was sudden and rough, it made the chains around Shisui's arms rattle and bite into his skin as DanzĆ forced him even closer, their noses almost touching. His breath was foul, but Shisui had no way to get away from him, even though he tried, panic spiking up.
DanzĆ's golden eye was hard yet somehow amused, the man feeling empowered by Shisui's reaction giving away how he was truly feeling, just like a dog who was all bark and no bite.
"You're an interesting person, Uchiha Shisui," he said, relishing in the way Shisui's body tensed up, Adam's apple bobbing with a silent, nervous gulp. "And I like interesting people."
DanzĆ's hand slid down from Shisui's chin to his throat, thumb pressing just slightly against his pulse to savor the wild beat as he let his head tilt forward, dry lips grazing his ear, "I think I'll keep you, Uchiha Shisui," he whispered, not able to see Shisui's face pale but content with just listening to his galloping heartbeat.
"After all, there are plenty of ways to make you useful to me."
#uchiha shisui#shimura danzo#I'M BACK BABEEEEE#God writing this felt so good#DanzĆ is such a vile bastard man#I love writing him asjdkjsad#so much ~flavor~
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Normal boy spotted.
[First] Prev <â-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#wen wing#wen remnants#Wen ning#This scene felt like a bit of a fever dream. We have (with little to no comedic exaggeration):#1) WWX whistling and somehow summoning not one but several horses to his side.#2) meeting the surviving Wen sect members who insist on not leaving Wen Ning behind.#Only for it to cut back to Wen Ning ripping a guy in half. (Not pictured here. I tried so hard but I could not make it look good).#Personally I feel like we moved on way too fast from the horse thing. Where did they come from? WWX couldn't have brought them.#He *just* found out there were more people left behind.#So...are the from the Jing sect? Are these disloyal horses? Or does WWX have incredible animal charisma skills?#It feels a bit like a DND player asked to call in some horses and the DM said 'Sure if you roll well enough' and it was a natural 20.#Maybe this is just my own envy cutting through. God damn I wish I could whistle and summon a horse to my side whenever I needed to.#I know I should not be so hung up on the horses. But my brain is cooked. I have been so sick.#The kind of sickness that makes it hard to breathe. Or think. Or have any energy at all.#I wish I had good commentary to write here. I just...really want a nap. And for October to restart to make up for all the lost time.#Thank you all for being so kind and patient once again. It truly means a lot.
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listen im ace and im pro kink at pride and whatever, but the way some of yall are wording your posts in response to the backlash against it is uh. really taking me back to the ace shitcourse era.
yall know theres nothing wrong with being a "virgin", right? that its not inherently shameful to have not had sex, to never have sex, even if youre not ace, even if you do want to have sex someday, like, its fine that you haven't had sex?
maybe if your problem is that theyre trying to police your behavior and shame you for expressing your sexuality, you can say that? instead of resorting to "haha stupid virgin gets no bitches" like my god. do you not hear how fucking regressive that attitude is? i know, i know, youre "joking".
get a better joke
#toy txt post#god im going to regret this post im gonna regret it so much i can feel it in my bones#let it flop..........pls#internalize my message let it sink in and understand what i am saying and then let the post flop#i say. knowing the ppl who need to see such a message are the ones who will make me regret this post and regrwt not having#1 million bajillion disclaimers#virgin is in quotes bc its a bullshit made up stupid purity culture concept anyway and quite frankly i hate even seeing the word#disclaimer: the previous sentence is not me saying that it is a slur for asexuals. it is me a single individual saying this specific word#grosses me out to read and see everywhere when its a stupid bullshit binary made up or at least historically largely used#to shame largely women and i dont know why we're still using it in 2023#and ive just been. seeing such an uptick in this whole like. attitude? lately and like#im ace im minorly sex repulsed. mostly about anything sex at me bad. other adults sex at each other consensually? go wild#i like to think im pretty chill about it. i try to be. i think its fine ig to be like 'my meat is huge i fuck so much so good'#like okay not my thing but good for you. love that for you#but then some of yall have started turning it back around back to. 'haha your meat so small and shriveled you get no bitches'#'haha stupid incel virgin' like okay. didnt realize we all went back to fucking. middle school but okay#god im gonna run out of tine to get ready for my thing writing this stupid post UGH evil#but like idk we've kinda circled back to being like haha being a virgin still is stupid and silly and shameful#and if im quite honest. i do think the acecourse played a part in that bc i felt like we were making good progress in like#hey guys is fine to not have sex ever if you dont want to its fine to not want sex its fine#and then aphobes went fucking rabid on us and splintered and destroyed online communities all over but especially on tumblr#and so many aces went back in the closet we stopped talking about it we stopped spreading awareness and now this stupid goddamn like#and now this stupid bullshit attitude is back where its like funny to call someone a virgin as an insult but like no bro trust me its okay#its okay for me to do it bc im a hot queer person with huge meat instead of a cisstraight frat bro with huge meat#? like you know the issue was the behavior right? not the fact that it was straight dudes saying it? its bc the thing being said was shitty?#you know you can dunk on the puritan bitches trying to police your behavior at pride without getting us as collateral damage right#stop making me read that stupid ugly ass word ur not cool or funny#whatever#if you come on to this post to start shit i will not only block you but as many of your mutuals and followers as i can find. i will scroll#i will block this entire fucking website if i need to do not test me. i am exhausted and the acecourse ate up all my tolerance in 2015.
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losing interest in life? finally start designing the ocs u fleshed out and made a whole world, personalities, and plot line for that you've worked on since 2014-2019
2 outta like 20 not even close to done đ
#was thinking about them again recently and realized we've sort of abandoned them after we started getting better at art#we had originally picked up writing cuz back in 2014 we felt we lacked so much in art we could just write until we got good#then we just never drew them just obsessively wrote one shots big stories ect of them#not that we'd ever share cuz god cringe đ#but since we've gotten better time to give our family some bodies đ#wish we remembered jow to write cuz after we noticed improvement in art we focused on that then writing đ#now we cant write shit#anywho#gotta change some things up about them cuz these babies were made when we were small and embarrassing but we're excited#mycel doodles#hope they can get us outta our stump đ#my ocs#oc art
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bftc jaytim fuck nasty in their batman suitsđ©·
CORRECT THEY DO. it's like you live in my brain, anon. and for that, you get a full fic bc i've wanted to write this anyway and you gave me an excuse to. have 6k words worth of dirtybadwrong JayTim. rough sex, blood play, pain play, degradation, consensual but not safe or sane, dead dove vibes so be warned. but also enjoy bc ily for this thought anon đ©·
âYou look ridiculous in that get-up. Like a kid out for trick-or-treats.â The words were just as brutal as the fight was. Jason had the bodyweight and training to easily pin Tim, now that he was done toying around.Â
Of course, toying around for Jason Todd looked like bloody slashes across Timâs back, base of his skull, and his forehead. Picking one of Bruceâs older suits may have been a bad idea on Timâs part. The armor was thinner and easier for Jason to slash through with a batarang in a clenched fist.Â
Tim had managed to knock the batarang out of Jasonâs hand, but that also seemed like a bad idea now, with Jason on top of Tim. His fists were even more brutal, blunt weapons and heâd reinforced the gloves to make his punches hit harder across Timâs face.Â
There was blood pouring from Timâs nose and mouth. With all the pain flaring across his body, it was hard for him to get a good read on if anything was broken or not.Â
All he knew was it hurt. His head spun from slamming against the concrete. It was hard for Tim to blink his eyes into focus. And when he did, he wished he hadnât. Jason was leaning in so close, his mask was all Tim could see. Tim dizzily wondered how the glowing eyes didnât impede Jasonâs vision.Â
âLook at me,â Jason demanded. His voice was robotic behind the thick metal mouthpiece. One of his fists pulled back for another punch. âDo you see terror? Do you see fear? Or is it just your own reflection?â
By some miracle, Tim managed to catch the punch before it connected with his face. The muscles in his wrist and forearm screamed at the animalistic strength Jason pushed back with, inching his fist closer and closer to connecting. If it did manage to connect, Tim knew his own hand in the way wouldnât do much to soften the blow. If anything, Jason would shatter Timâs knuckles against his own nose.
Not a pretty thought.
âThat mad I said no to being your Robin?â Tim wheezed. It was hard to get air in his lungs, with Jason perched on his chest, putting all his weight on Timâs midsection.Â
Jason scoffed with cruel amusement. âYouâre a second choice, Drake. It doesnât matter to me if you say no, I can always ask the original. Heâd at least put up a better fight than youâre managing.â
Tim couldnât argue that. He thought heâd have some kind of chance in a fight against Jason, but it was a losing game to confront Jason on his turf, in a suit Tim wasnât comfortable in. He was too stupid to even bring his bo staff.
A great Batman he was turning out to be.
With bloody teeth, Tim smiled. âYouâre right. Is that why Iâm your reflection, Jason? Two second rate Robins who will never be the original?â He managed a laugh against protesting ribs. âFor what itâs worth, I still think Iâm better than you. Least I didnât die.â
He couldnât see the look on Jasonâs face, but he didnât need to. The feral yell that came out of Jason spoke for itself at how well Tim got under his skin. Jasonâs other fist came barreling toward Timâs face, but he managed to move his head out of the way, making it only connect with the ground. Jasonâs punch was hard enough to make the concrete crack.
Even with the reinforced gloves, that had to hurt. Maybe a couple cracked bones, if Tim was lucky. Jason couldnât hit as hard if he injured himself.Â
That was a solid plan. If heâd actually planned it in the first place.Â
âCanât believe I ever liked you, Drake,â Jason snarled, pulling his hand free from the concrete. He flexed his fingers just a bit too slow. He definitely hurt himself, even if he was trying to hide it. Jason went for his utility belt, grabbing another batarang.Â
âFlattering,â Tim deadpanned. He tried to elbow Jason in the neck, but Jason easily twisted away from the blow.Â
âI really did you know,â Jason said. Maybe it was the mask, but Tim couldâve sworn Jasonâs tone changed slightly. âIf Bruce hadnât corrupted you, you really couldâve been something.â
Tim ignored the comment about Bruce. Bruceâs death was too raw for Tim to be able to look at his grief about it head-on. âCanât say the feeling was mutual,â Tim grunted. He tried to slash his glove fins across Jasonâs face. But Jason was smarter. He had a more durable suit that made the blow easily glance off.Â
Damn Tim for picking this suit. He idealized Bruceâs image too much and forwent practicality. He was paying for it now. A new suit wouldâve had proper weapons worked into the wrists for Tim to easily flick out.Â
âI donât know about that,â Jason mocked with a cold laugh. âRemind me again Drake, who broke me out of prison?â
He had a point.Â
âReal great job youâve done repaying that kindness,â Tim muttered. He avoided addressing it directly. He didnât owe Jason his reasons. Especially not with how theyâd all blown up in his face.Â
âI never needed your kindness,â Jason growled. He wrapped a hand around Timâs throat and pressed down just enough to make it uncomfortable for Tim to breathe. âThatâs what all you Bats could never get through your skulls. I didnât need to be Bruceâs pity project, and I definitely didnât need to be yours.â
âTrust me,â Tim fought to get the words out, trying to worm his fingers under Jasonâs grip. âYou donât have my pity.â
âWhat do I have, then?â
âMy contempt.â The more Tim struggled, the tighter Jasonâs grip got. The sharp points of his claws were starting to dig into Timâs skin and draw blood. Blood flow was cut off from Timâs brain and he fought to keep hold of his consciousness.Â
âLiar,â Jason hissed. âNo one else is here, Tim. You donât have to pretend and hide things from me I already know.â
Maybe passing out would be a good thing. Then, Tim would have a convenient reason for not answering Jason. A reason to not face the truth Jason wanted him to bare.
Tim knew that Jason probably knew. The way theyâd looked at each other through the prison safety glass when Jason was locked up had a thousand unspoken words in just a shared smile. A promise, that maybe, if Jason cleaned himself up with this second chance, there could be something between them.
But Jason didnât clean up. He flung himself in the opposite direction, if anything. A growing body count and an ugly reign of terror that was Timâs job to stop.
He started this. He put misplaced faith in Jason. Timâs bad judgment jeopardized Gotham.Â
And now Jason wanted the unspoken part said out loud. Something a part of Tim would rather die than admit after all this. They both already knew. Making Tim say it was just an obvious attempt to humiliate him and Tim refused to sink to Jasonâs level.
All this over a stupid crush.Â
âFine,â Jason continued when Tim didnât say anything. âIâll say it for you. You loved me.â
Tim made a face and twisted, finally forcing Jasonâs hand free from his neck with a hard strike to his inner elbow. âIt wasnât love,â he insisted through grit teeth.
âWhat was it then?â
Tim didnât say a word. He wasnât going to give in to Jasonâs cruelty.
âTell you what,â Jasonâs voice dropped low and almost sultry. âIf you say it out loud, Iâll give you a free pass. No one will know.â
âA free pass?â
There was no way Jason was implying what Tim thought he was.
âRight here, right now.â Jason nodded. âCanât say Iâll make it sweet, but something tells me youâre not the vanilla type anyway.â
Shit. He was implying that. Timâs breath caught in his throat.
The answer shouldâve been obvious.Â
The answer was obvious. Tim was laying in a growing pool of his own blood because of Jason. Countless people were dead because of Jason. Bruceâs legacy was being destroyed because of Jason. Whatever little crush Tim had once had was long gone and replaced with disgust and hatred.
Most of it was.Â
But some small piece of Tim clung to the way Jason grinned at him. And that small piece of him seemed to be steering the rest of him, making him hesitate on what shouldâve been an easy answer. An easy chance to catch Jason off guard and get the upper hand in the fight.
Tim hoped the cowl hid enough of his face that his expression wasnât readable.Â
âOver my dead body,â Tim forced the words out, pulling himself back into reality. Praying Jason wouldnât read into the pause.Â
Jasonâs body shifted. He was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and brought the batarang clenched in his fist to Timâs neck, easily finding the jugular. âSo be it. I agree anyway. Killing you is the best way to cut this goddamn feeling out of me.â
âWhat feeling?â Tim frowned, fingers twitching as he stalled, trying to think of a real plan.Â
âNo, no.â Jason shook his head and laughed. It was a hollow sound, this time. âYou donât get to have your cake and eat it too. If you wonât say it, then I wonât either.â
Oh.
âYouâŠâ Tim sucked in a breath. He was on deathâs edge, a blade to his neck, but somehow it was the furthest thing from his spinning mind. âYou like me? Like that?â He said it like a stupid high schooler, too shy to even look their crush in the eye.Â
âWhat difference does it make now?â Jason shifted his weight on Tim, bearing down more. âThis was always how it was going to end, between us.â
âIt makes all the difference,â Tim said. He didnât know why it did. But he knew it did. Tim reached a hand up, but instead of going for Jasonâs batarang, he went further. His fingers reached under his own cowl and tugged it off, baring his face to Jason.Â
Vulnerability. A metaphorical white flag, surrendering to Jason.Â
Tim was dangerously close to getting himself killed. He could feel it, in his beating heart and overflowing adrenaline.Â
âI wouldâve come at this from a different angle if I knewâŠâ Tim started, before trailing off. They were still dancing around saying it directly.
Jason barked out another laugh. âOh, would you? What, you wouldâve come to talk instead of fight? You really think that wouldâve worked?â
âMaybe-â
âI told you,â Jasonâs grip on the batarang tightened, âI donât need your fucking pity.â
âAnd you donât have it,â Tim snapped back. Too angry. This angle was quickly slipping away from him. Shit. âYouâre a psychopathic killer and I donât know if you can ever been redeemed after what youâve done. But I wouldâve tried out of love, not pity, you sanctimonious asshole.â
Jason stuttered. He leaned back and breathed hard. Tim really wished he wasnât wearing that stupid mask. âYou said it wasnât love.â
Tim took in a deep breath, and let himself fall over the ledge heâd been trying so hard to cling to since Jason pinned him. âI lied.â
For a moment, Tim was convinced heâd just sealed his own coffin. Whatever Jasonâs feelings were, it didnât seem like they were any particular deterrent to hurting Tim. He was inches away from killing Tim and leaving his body for someone else to find.
If they found Timâs body at all.
But instead. Instead, Jason reached up and ripped the metal part of his mask off, tossing it aside to skitter off into the darkness.
And he kissed Tim.
Tim let out the breath he was holding against Jasonâs mouth. And in turn, Jason breathed him in, greedy with his kiss. The batarang was kept firm against Timâs throat, but he couldnât bring himself to care.
Jason was kissing him.Â
There was still the logical side of him screaming just how bad of an idea this was. All the reasons he could think of to not tangle with Jason were running circles across his mind.Â
Tim ignored them and kissed Jason back.Â
Jason tasted like metal and he smelled like gunpowder. Both of those things made sense and made Tim want more. He wanted every single part of Jason he could drink up, even from a single kiss. Jasonâs tongue was in his mouth, licking and opening Tim up. They shared each otherâs blood through the kiss, until Tim couldnât tell whose was whose.Â
The kiss was broken by Jason just as suddenly as it was started. Jason pulled back and raised the batarang. Panic flashed through Tim and he instinctively threw his hands up to cover his face and neck.Â
The batarang slashed through Timâs suit though, thankfully not giving him what mightâve been the stupidest death in the history of vigilantism. Jason didnât seem to care about making sure the cut didnât get Timâs skin, though. Shallow wounds sprang across Timâs skin and he hissed, watching Jason turn the suit to ribbons. The batarang was then tossed aside so Jason could rip off the suit as he leaned back.Â
The bat symbol on Timâs chest stayed in tact, but everything below it was ripped away, exposing him from his abs down to his thighs. Jason knew exactly how to unclip the utility belt and throw that aside, with the shreds of fabric.Â
Cold air hit Timâs most private areas. He wanted to cover himself, but he couldnât get his hands to obey. His entire body was paralyzed under Jasonâs gaze.
âTake off your mask,â Tim found his voice, rough and not sounding like himself.
Jason wore a cruel smirk. âNo.â He did take off his gloves, though. Tim didnât hide his sigh of relief. He didnât want those claws on his skin. He was bleeding enough as it was.
The moment Jasonâs hands were bare, he ran them over Timâs skin. Tim hissed and flinched, but didnât pull away. He let Jasonâs warm hands claim his skin. Jason wasnât kind or gentle. He smeared Timâs blood around, exploring every bare inch. Timâs stomach, his hips, his back, his legs.Â
Jason curled a hand around Timâs dick and Timâs back arched.Â
To be fair, this wasnât exactly how heâd pictured sleeping with Jason. Still, he couldnât find it in him to complain.Â
Jason jerked Tim off rough and fast. The blood on his hand was slick enough to make a smooth glide over the callouses of his palm. Tim groaned, eyes fluttering shut. He bucked into Jasonâs hand. As much pain as his body was in, the pleasure was too distracting for him to care. Tim choked on every breath he managed to take in, unable to stop himself from crying out and whining.
His body was screaming at him because of what Jason had done to him. And now, he was letting himself fall apart to Jasonâs hands in a different way.Â
âIf Grayson found us, heâd think I was fucking torturing you from all the pathetic noises youâre making,â Jason growled. He barely sounded human. He slid his other hand up Timâs chest and grabbed Timâs face, stroking his cheek.Â
Tim groaned at the thought. He forced his eyes to open just so he could look at Jason. He really wished Jason would take the cowl off. Tim wanted to see Jasonâs face more than anything.Â
âDonât bring him up,â Tim gasped, practically humping Jasonâs hand for more delirious pleasure. âI donât want to think about him now.â
At least he could see Jasonâs smirk. âWhy? Because you know heâd disapprove?â
âBecause I want to think about you.â Tim tried to grab at Jasonâs suit to pull it off. His hands were clumsy and shaky though, probably from blood loss. All he could do was uselessly press them against Jasonâs chest and feel the warmth through layers of armor.
âFuck,â Jason groaned. His whole body shuddered, affected by Timâs words alone. Jason stopped jerking Tim off so he could unclip his belt. He kept his other hand against Timâs face though. Stroking it. âLeast I know why you broke me out of prison, now.â
Tim made an aghast noise. âThis is not why I broke you out of prison.â
Jason leaned in close, resting his face against Timâs. âYou still broke me out. So all my blood is on your hands too, Tim.â He pressed a kiss against Timâs temple. âBruce wouldnât have been stupid enough to do that. Hell of a Batman you make.â It was like he had crawled into Timâs brain just to voice all the awful little thoughts that Tim tried to bury.Â
âYou-â Tim tried to snap back, but he was distracted by the sound of Jason undoing a clasp, then a zipper. Tim looked down and watched, breath caught in his throat, as Jason pulled his cock out of his pants.
He was already hard.Â
Jasonâs hand smeared blood across his member. Tim swallowed at the sight. Jason had pushed his pants down just enough to expose a sliver of pale skin. He had a sharp v-line and toned muscles just from the bit Tim could see. An embarrassing noise came out of Timâs throat.
âPathetic,â Jason said, but he groaned on the word, working his hand over himself. It was filthy. Both of them, covered in blood, and Jason jerking off on top of Tim.Â
Tim wrapped an arm around Jason. He wanted to sink his fingers into Jasonâs hair, but he settled for wrapping them around the back of Jasonâs cowl. Tim seriously considered trying to pull the cowl off himself, but he doubted Jason would take kindly to it.Â
The noises Jason made as he pleasured himself were beautiful. Timâs sounds were animalistic and, in Jasonâs own words, pathetic. Barely human sounding. But Jason. Jason sounded practically divine, low and smooth as he moaned in Timâs ear.Â
âPlease,â Tim gasped. He wasnât sure what he was asking for.
âThat desperate?â Jason downright purred.Â
Tim didnât hold himself back from nodding. He swallowed down his dignity.Â
If he had any dignity left.
âIâm not going to be gentle,â Jason warned. Like he was giving Tim one last chance to back out.
Tim just laughed. âIf you think I want you to be gentle, you really donât know a thing about me.â
A guttural groan came out of Jason. He pulled back and lifted one of Timâs legs, bending it as far back as he could. Tim wasnât quite as flexible as Dick was, but Jason got pretty far before Timâs muscles protested and he winced.Â
âOf course you shave down there,â Jason commented. He slid a hand over Timâs smooth skin around his cock and balls.
âI donât like pubes getting caught in my suit,â Tim huffed, trying not to let his cheeks go red.
âDonât worry,â Jason hummed, âI think itâs cute. Makes you look like a fucking virgin.â
âIâm not.â Like it mattered.
Jason paused, just staring at Tim. Was he disappointed? It was hard to tell. âIâm going to ruin you for anyone else, so it doesnât matter either way.â Whether or not he was disappointed was masked with a rough, possessive anger that made Tim gasp.
Rough fingers ran over the shallow cuts on Timâs stomach and he hissed at the sudden sharp pain. It wasnât easy to ignore the dull throbbing when Jason was practically fingering the open wounds. Tim almost asked what the hell he was doing, before he realized Jason was smearing blood across his fingers, getting them slick and coated.
âSeriously? Youâre going to use my own blood to fuck me?â Tim asked, like just the thought of it wasnât making him spread his legs wider. Still, the idea of cleaning tacky blood out of himself did make Tim internally cringe.
âYou got a better idea?â Jason shot back.Â
âI think thereâs lube in-â
âNo.â Jason cut him off, pressing harder into the cuts just to make Tim wince. âWeâre doing it my way, or I just leave you in a pool of your own blood with a hard-on.â
âOkay.â Tim caved instantly with a hushed whisper at the rough dominance.Â
It was so easy, for Jason to take complete control of Tim. He was putty in Jasonâs hands, content to be manipulated however Jason wanted, so long as Tim got his own pleasure out of it. If Jason wanted Tim to bleed, he would bleed. If he wanted Tim to be spread open and ready to be fucked, then Tim would give him that too.
Christ. He needed to be checked out mentally after this.Â
Jason gave Tim a pleased hum, probably the closest thing to praise Tim was going to get out of him. Heâd take it. Blood slick fingers pressed against Timâs hole. Two fingers were forced in at once, hard and fast.
Tim screamed.
He didnât expect Jason to be gentle, but it seemed like Jason was going out of his way to be rough. Scrapping his nails against Timâs insides and brutally twisting his fingers around. He didnât try to hit Timâs prostate to bring any kind of pleasure. The brushes of his fingers over that spot were more painful than pleasurably, if anything. Fast and rough, giving Tim no chance to soak up the sparks of sensation from the bundle of nerves.
âOh god,â Tim groaned, throwing his head back. His hips twitched violently, like they werenât sure to press into Jasonâs fingers for more, or to try to pull away from the horrible assault.
Itâd been a while since Tim had been in this much pain. So battered from a fight that every movement of his body was weak and shaky. He grabbed onto Jasonâs arm, desperate for an anchor. He couldnât have pulled Jason off of him, even if he wanted to.
He didnât, though. Tim wanted this to last as long as it possibly could.Â
He never got to drown himself in the pain. Pain was something that had to be compartmentalized and ignored, for the sake of the mission. Getting back on his feet and ignoring the way his body screamed at him was one of the first things Bruce taught him.Â
Now, Tim didnât have to fight it. He could just give in. The half-hearted instincts from his body trying to fight back were ignored by Jason. Like Jason knew that Tim wanted this.Â
Needed this.Â
At some point, Jason mustâve worked a third finger inside of Tim. He didnât notice. The burning stretch swirled with every other point of pain on his body.Â
He did noticed when Jason finally decided to purposefully press against Timâs prostate.
This pleasure was new. Foreign and overstimulating with how aggressively Jason pressed down on the spot, rubbing into it to pull all kinds of noises out of Tim he didnât know he was capable of making.Â
âJason!â Tim cried out. âFuck, too much, I canât-â Timâs stomach was cramping from how hard his muscles clenched. He was falling, losing his grip on sensible reality. His head was full of cotton, foggy and unable to get a solid grip on coherent thought.
There were only three things that existed to Tim: pain, pleasure, and Jason.Â
âYou canât what? Use your fucking words,â Jason mocked, vicious and uncaring. He rested Timâs leg over his shoulder to free up his other hand. His fingers wrapped around Timâs balls and tugged. Tim screamed and arched like a jack knife. He hadnât noticed how close his orgasm was creeping up on him until Jason pulled it away with a brutal, carnal pain. When Tim lost control of his body, Jason found it and snatched it up, holding Timâs pleasure in his palm. Tim wanted to curl in on himself, but he couldnât force his limbs to obey.Â
âHurts,â was all Tim could groan out. He mightâve been crying. It was hard to tell, with his face so wet with blood.Â
âGood.â
âJason,â Tim tried to beg. He was lost to subspace, something he barely realized until now. âI canât take anymore.â He wanted more. More than want, god, he needed more, but his body was wired so tight Tim was convinced he was going to snap if Jason kept going.Â
He wanted that too.
âThatâs not for you to decide.â Jasonâs rough voice was a light at the end of a tunnel Tim was struggling toward to ground himself. To focus on something besides the agony crashing over his body in brutal waves. âDo you really think youâre in the fucking state to know what you can take?â
Jason was right. Tim just whined, a noise that turned into a choked sob when Jason pulled his fingers out just enough to slam them into Timâs sweet spot again, overwhelming him with more awful pleasure.Â
âGive yourself over to me,â Jason demanded. He leaned in close again. Timâs vision was blurred, but he could smell the gunpowder and leather. âSay it. Say I own you.â
Tim wanted to. He tried, opening his mouth and struggling to get the words out. He could only make more pathetic noises.
âSay it, or Iâll stab you and leave you to fucking bleed out.â
He probably wasnât lying.
âYou-â Tim choked on the word, shaking so hard his muscles were spasming. âYou own me.â Three little words, and they were the hardest words Tim had ever tried to say. Each one fought against him, getting stuck in his throat.Â
But he said them. Because right now, they were the only religion Tim believed in.Â
âLook at that,â Jason cooed. So patronizing. âYouâre not completely brainless and worthless. Yet, anyway.â He pulled his fingers out of Tim. One second those fingers had been driving Tim mad because they were inside of him, and now they were driving him mad because they left him empty and wanting.Â
His body needed more. More pain, more pleasure. Until he broke and Jason fucked the shattered pieces left of Tim.Â
Jason got a hand underneath Tim, using the blood from the gash on Timâs back to slick his fingers this time. That gash was far deeper. Something that probably needed stitches. It had started trying to clot but Jason agitated it enough for fresh blood to pour out. He was able to actually work his fingers under Timâs bloody skin, making Tim shriek and try to pull away.Â
There was nowhere for him to escape from the mind-numbing pain. When he pulled away, he just crashed into Jasonâs chest, forehead bumping against the bat symbol of Jasonâs suit.Â
âSo fucking easy to push your buttons,â Jason laughed. He moved his fingers around a bit more just to make his point and pull more wounded noises out of Tim. Then he finally pulled them free and let Tim fall back to the hard ground. It knocked the wind out of Tim.
He didnât have a chance to try to get air into his lungs. Because Jason slicked himself up with a disturbing speed and lined up. The warning of blunt pressure against Timâs hole lasted a fraction of a second and then Jason snapped his hips. Buried to the hilt.
Tim almost passed out.
He didnât know if it was from the pain, the blood loss, or his bodyâs inability to get oxygen into his lungs. Everything exploded inside of Tim. He was full, so full so fast. Jasonâs fingers hadnât been nearly kind enough to properly stretch Tim for Jasonâs size. It almost felt like being stabbed.
Over and over, as Jason fucked into Tim with no kindness.Â
A hard slap across Timâs face forced him off of the edge of unconsciousness. He gasped, eyes snapping open to find Jasonâs face right above his, the glowing eyes of the mask taking over Timâs field of vision.Â
Jason was smiling. Blood on his teeth, dripping out of his mouth. Was it his blood or Timâs?
Tim hoped it was both.Â
âI donât know which Bruce would find more pathetic,â Jason groaned as he fucked into Tim, pulling small screams out of Tim with each punch of his cock, âyou putting on that suit, or you letting me fuck you in it.â He brought his lips to Timâs ear. âWhoâs ruining his legacy now?â
If the physical pain wasnât bad enough, Jason knew exactly how to rip open the wounds of Timâs emotional pain alongside it. Tim cried out at the thought.Â
What would Bruce think of him, like this? Pathetic and barely human underneath Jason Todd?
âAnd they call me the failed Robin,â Jason just kept talking, like he wasnât destroying Tim from the inside out. âAt least I know how to be something other than Robin. Are you really delusional enough to think youâre going to be the next Batman?â A long moan came out of him and he thrust even harder until Tim screamed loud enough to make himself dizzy. âAnswer me.â
Tim just shook his head. âNo.â His voice was broken. His throat was sore from screaming, but the word still came out. Heâd never thought he really could be Batman. So what the hell was he thinking, putting this suit on?
âGood.â Jason slid his fingers under the bat symbol on Timâs chest, one of the only parts of the suit in tact. He ripped it off, the fabric tearing loudly in Timâs ears. âItâs good you know your fucking place.â Jason changed his angle, finding Timâs battered prostate again. Tim didnât have the air in his lungs to scream anymore. All he could do was weakly mewl and whimper.
He could die like this. He honestly might. Tim had no idea how his body was holding on, in this state. Maybe it was the pain and pleasure alone keeping him alive. Just so he could soak up every touch from Jason.
Tim was never going to allow himself to do this again. So he had to enjoy it while it lasted.
This time, Tim felt his orgasm creeping up on him. His fingers dug into Jasonâs arm and he pressed up into Jasonâs warmth. The material of Jasonâs suit was rough and unforgiving. It didnât feel particularly good for Tim to grind his cock against, but he didnât care. He needed any kind of friction, whether it brought him pleasure or road rash.Â
âI wonât stop if you come,â Jason warned, still hammering into Tim at a pace that shouldâve been impossible for a normal human to manage. âThis isnât to make you feel good. Itâs to put you in your fucking place.â
Tim could only whine, managing a nod of understanding. This was his place. He knew that. He never wanted to leave it.Â
The threat of being fucked into overstimulation hung over Timâs head, but he couldnât stop himself from chasing the high of his orgasm. He almost wanted to feel the overstimulation. Like his orgasm was just something to get over with so Tim could completely give himself over to Jason. To be used just for Jasonâs pleasure, even if it brought him nothing but more pain.Â
That thought made Timâs balls tighten. The only warning he could give Jason was a high pitched keen that barely sounded like Timâs own voice. His eyes rolled back.
The pleasure of his orgasm didnât overtake the screaming pain in the rest of his body. It just mixed with the pain, swirling into one intense feeling Tim didnât have a name for. He screamed until his throat gave out. His back arched and he clenched around Jason, who kept driving into him. Jason growled in Timâs ear. He was holding Timâs hip so tight there would be bruises that would end up indistinguishable from the rest of Timâs injuries.
All injuries that Jason gave Tim. Timâs body was a canvass, and Jasonâs favorite color to paint with was the red that poured out of Tim.Â
It was the best orgasm Tim had ever felt. No feeling was ever going to match this intensity.Â
Tim came down from his high with an awful wheeze, shuddering. He clung to Jason, like a guard dog laying at the feet of his master.Â
âFuck,â Jason moaned. A shudder ran down his spine and his pace faltered, just for a moment. âYouâre really something else, Drake.â From Jason, that was practically a compliment for Tim to soak up and preen under.Â
Timâs body tipped over the edge of overstimulation. His survival instincts kicked in, trying to fight Jason. There was no strength behind his kicks and hits. They just made Jason laugh as Tim made a fool of himself.
âI own you,â Jason reminded Tim. He caught Timâs wrist and pinned it against the cold concrete, squeezing tight enough to cut off circulation to Timâs fingers. âI can do whatever I want to your useless body. Donât try to fight it now.â He leaned down and found an exposed part of Timâs neck to sink his teeth into. It wasnât a hickey, but a proper bite, breaking Timâs skin.Â
Tim cried out, but still tilted his head to the side to give Jason better access to his neck. Even when his body wanted to fight, Tim managed to submit. Like the submission was natural to him.Â
The pain took over. Tim just floated in it, forcing himself to go limp. Submit. No more fighting. He gave in to Jason and stopping thinking. All Tim needed to do was feel. Feel every point of agony scattered across his body. Feel Jason fucking him. Using him, like Tim was nothing more than a toy. The sparks from Jason slamming into his sweet spot couldnât be called pleasure anymore, with Timâs cock spent and limp. It was more pain.Â
Better that way. Tim liked the pain more. Delicious and mind-numbing.Â
Jason was swearing against Timâs skin. He mumbled something Tim didnât catch. Three syllables. Short and rushed out. Tim was almost convinced the second word was love. Maybe he was making it up in his head though, finally lost in utter delirium.
Tim didnât care.
More insults fell from Jasonâs lips. Calling Tim nothing, worthless, pathetic. A cheap pretender who deserved this. Tim agreed with all of it, feverishly nodding. The words were practically sweet nothings in Timâs ears.Â
Jason yelled Timâs name when he came. His hips stuttered to a stop, buried deep inside of Tim. He knew Jason was coming inside of him, but his body was too battered to feel Jasonâs cum filling his insides. Shame that was. Tim wanted to know how it felt, to be claimed by Jason in this carnal way.
They were both so perfectly still, for two people who had been shaking and clawing at each other just moments ago. The only noise was heavy breathing that echoed through the night.
Tim swallowed. He tried to find himself through the pain. He worked through the body checklist that Bruce gave him. Vision. Smell. Taste. Feel. Sound. All the sensations clashed against each other, out of focus and pounding against Timâs skull.
It was so hard to think.
Tim groaned. Focus.Â
Like cold water thrown on his face, he clawed his way out of subspace. Tim got a good look at Jasonâs face.
âAre you crying?â Tim voiced the thought as soon as it crossed his mind.Â
With the mask, it was hard to tell. Jasonâs breathing was shuddered, hitching on every inhale. Tim wouldnât call it sobbing, but it was close enough for Tim to study Jasonâs face. The wetness coming out from under Jasonâs mask wasnât red. It streaked through the blood.Â
Tear tracks.Â
Jasonâs completely rational response was to punch Tim in the face.
Tim swore and curled in on himself, cupping his nose. If it wasnât broken before, it was now. Jason pulled out of Tim without any care and stood up, leaving him curled up on the ground, trying to set the broken bone and manage the bleeding.
Tim tried to sit up. His arms and legs gave out under him and he slammed back to the ground with a pained noise. He looked up at Jason, squinting. Watching as Jason tucked himself back into his pants, then snatched his gloves off the ground to put them back on.
Despite clearly losing the fight, Tim had done a number on Jason. Jasonâs face was bloody and his suit was ripped and torn in some places. He looked like he had been mauled by a wild animal.
If that was how Jason looked, Tim couldnât imagine what the sight of his own body was.
His second attempt to sit up worked. Now, he compartmentalized. Forced the pain deep into the corners of his mind and locked it up.Â
Tim had to be functional now. He couldnât let the regret and shame get to him.
âI-â Jason started to say something. It was only one word, but it sounded uncharacteristically soft, making Tim straighten his back and hold his breath. But Jason cleared his throat and folded his arms, stamping down whatever kindness had almost come out. âIâll throw you a bone. If any of the Bats find you like this you can just tell them I raped you,â he said it like some kind of mean joke.
Tim didnât say anything. That wasnât true. They both knew it.
âPreserve your precious dignity you care so much about, huh?â Jason continued. He sounded unsure of himself and he turned away from Tim.Â
âJason-â Tim reached out for him. âWe can still-â he struggled for the words. âIt doesnât have to end like this. You can still change. Iâll-â
âDonât,â Jason snapped. He kicked away Timâs hand. âWe both know itâs too late for that.â He started to walk away. âNever wear that suit again, Drake. Iâd hate to see you die to someone that isnât me.â He almost sounded⊠protective? Tim wouldnât call it fondness, but maybe something close to that. Tim refused to allow himself to read into it. Whoever Jason Todd had become, he was someone that Tim couldnât save. He was someone who didnât want to be saved, no matter how Tim felt about him. Tim had to accept that, even with Jasonâs cum deep inside him. Some truths were immutable.Â
Then, Jason was gone. Vanishing into the shadows and leaving Tim there.
Tim tilted his head back. He allowed himself thirty seconds. He counted them. Thirty seconds to sit in his own filth and feel the pain for just a little longer, before he had to move and figure out how he was going to get home in one piece without anyone finding out what happened here.
Just ten more seconds.
Five.Â
Three.
One.
With grit teeth and a deep breath, Tim stood up.
#necrotic writings#jaytim#tim drake x jason todd#jason todd x tim drake#timjay#dead dove do not eat#battle for the cowl#cross posted on ao3#batcest#sorry this sat in my inbox for a couple days anon#i was like 'hehe i'll write a lil pwp for this'#and it ended up over 6k words. god help me.#this is proof that if you send an idea to my inbox there is a good chance i will just write you a fic.#you might have to wait a couple days but i will come for you with food and chaos.#anyway this is a smidge dark as a fic fair warning#bc idk how else to write them fucking during bftc 2#masochist tim drake you will always be famous to me#once again wasn't gonna put this one on ao3 bc i felt it was gonna be too short for that effort#then it goes and ends up this long.#my partner always laughs at me when i do this. bc i keep doing it.#pls enjoy <3 i wrote most of this while in a lot of pain so#me and tim were twinning there.#while posting this my roommate's kitten used me as a jungle gym. she's my editor in chief.
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Geo and Bonzle's relationship is something so nebulous and not entirely definable but so, so incredibly loving. Less father and daughter and more older brother and teen sister that he feels responsible for. She showed up when he was at his absolute lowest, barely keeping himself alive as day after day after day of agonizing loneliness went by. She knew that loneliness all too well and they found so much comfort in eachother. And even as their family grew their dynamic never really changed. I just. Hrghghhghghghgghgghgghhfjfjfhfjgjghggjjghgh đđđ
#god I can't stop thinking about how Geo must've felt when Cole told him Bonzle was gone#he wasn't there for her. she âdiedâ alone and scared and he was just waiting at home for her to come back#if he'd been there.. if he'd just been able to help.. god if he'd even just gotten to say goodbye#I really do not think Geo was in a good place mentally when he met Bonzle#I mean come on. abandoned and forgotten by the geckles and munce and alone in a junkyard wasteland? I'd lose my mind#augh they're so important to me#ninjago#dragons rising#ninjago geo#ninjago bonzle#geo finder#bonzle finder#I started writing this post in the middle of the night then I blacked out and finished writing it when I woke up
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wow?! amazing stunning inspired incredible especially the cigarette smoke panel
thank you so much !! i also liked working on that panel hehe iâm glad others liked it too :â)
#asks#ANSWERING THIS a bit late⊠thank you for sending this!! iâm Very relived to hear ppl liked this comic amcndmf#when i read thru the tags i was like thank godâŠ.. it was definitely a test of my Comics execution skill as opposed to story tbh#so when ppl pointed out paneling and stuff i felt like i did a good a job (happy)#but then on top of it ppl liked the writing too and that made me explode a krillion times (/positive)
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jane of all trades
@professorfcknmoriarty
#dimension 20#d20#mine#sundry sidney#big barry syx#sundrysyx#a starstruck odyssey#modern au#fanart#based on a fic i read#so fucking good aghhh i love them too much#theres a second part to this but i felt too shy to finish it#so tired of all the porterjace in the ao3 tags can someone write more sundrysyx please god#ive reread this fic literally like four times it makes me so giddy my roommates have had to hear all about this nonstop#speaking of roommates i moved literally across the country so i havent been able to draw that much sorry ... more art soon :) especially#nsbu i have to catch up !!!!! ive been rewatching some of my fav campaigns like burrows end and acofaf instead of watching new stuff aghh
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Modern Aocorro high school au: what if Spider was a harpist in his high school orchestra and Ao'nung was down bad about it.
Spider was already your classic high school heart throb. He was popular, buff, handsome, a little rough around the edges, yet still a total sweetheart.
For Eywa's sake, he carpooled his siblings to school or rode his skateboard to school, volunteered around town 24/7, used reusable straws, he'd hand his pocket change to anyone in need, and was known for getting into fights with bullies in the parking lot.
Not to mention that he had the prettiest golden curls and brown eyes anyone had ever seen (at least in Ao'nung's opinion).
So to say Ao'nung was crushing, hard, was probably the understatement of the century, and could you even blame him? The guy was perfect, an angel, and it was driving him insane.
He'd catch himself staring during gym practice, marveling at his muscles, cheeks flushing, or in the locker room when he took his shirt off to change, his heart pounding away in his chest.
he thought he couldn't be even more down bad for that boy than he already was, his confident personality rendered null and void when he was around, his tongue caught in the back of his throat, unable to do so much as squeak at him⊠until the day he caught him in the orchestra room, practicing.
Now, he had heard Spider was in orchestra and had even seen him rolling around some large black case around the school before, but he'd never actually caught what he played.
But walking past that half-opened door was how he found out the love of his life wasn't only a sweet handsome hunk of a guy, but he played the harp, the instrument of an angel.
The sheer audacity of this boy was getting out of hand, he swore to Eywa, he was gonna kill him one of these days with his impossibly hot antics.
He stands and watches as Spider presses up against his harp, eyes focused on his sheet music, hair tied up in a messy bun but a single golden curl hangs he keeps blowing out of his face, and his fingers strum along the strings, working the muscles throughout his hands and arms.
The sound of gentle music flowed from the gap in the door, and it sounded just as pretty as Spider looked, soft and sweet, but still robust, still full of base and bravado. It was so fitting.
Watching Spider's face quirk with focus and frustration and pride as he worked through the song made the other's heart swoon, he swore it must be palpating or maybe skipping beats. He just knows it wasn't beating right, especially as he rubs his hand over his chest and feels how heavy it beats against his ribs.
And thats when Spider just so happens to turn to see who was gawking at him from the hallway, and instead of telling him to stop staring or throwing a pissed-off glance like Ao'nung is sure most other's would do if they caught someone staring like he had been, Spider just smiled.
"Like what you hear?" he quipped, leaning forward to turn the page of his music binder.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, you're... amazing," he choked out an answer, coughing into his fist to try and cover up the stammer in his voice and the blush on his cheeks.
"You flatter me," he replied, sitting back and looking Ao'nung right in the eye before he looked away with an even brighter smile, and it was like his skin was set on fire by just that single glance. "Are you gonna come in or are you gonna keep standing out their like some weirdo?"
"Oh, I-I wouldn't want to bother, I was j-just passing by,"
"It's free period, it's why I'm in here all by my lonesome," he puts on a fake pout and bats his lashes in his direction for show, "keep my company yeah? I'm sure you've got nothing to do if you've already spent so much time staring."
He moved his bag off the chair next to him before patting it.
"Sit," his tone was warm and inviting and his eyes were soft and almost pleading, so he did, with a deep breath, he sat next to the other boy.
He managed to be even prettier up close, and Ao'nung had to tear his eyes away so he didn't make a fool of himself. He decided to turn his attention to the harp. It was beautiful, made of a soft, warm-toned wood, intricately carved and painted with the image of flowers he couldn't name off the top of his head.
"She's a beauty isn't she?" Spider asked
he only nodded at first, before feeling the urge to touch, his hand moving before he could think better of it, but he managed to stop himself before he made contact with he wood.
"Can I?" he asked, quite pitifully, finally making his own eye contact with the blonde. Eywa save him, he was too pretty, it was unfair. He felt butterflies tickling his stomach and his head getting fuzzy. Why didn't he run when he had the chance?
"Go ahead," he answered with a huff of laughter.
He tried to steady himself as he stroked a hand down the curved wood that he saw resting against Spider's chest earlier when he was playing, feeling the warmth from the other boy's skin still clinging to the wood.
His fingers sought out the strings Spider's rested on moments ago, the metal threading bit into his flesh ever so slightly when he ran his fingers down them.
"I catch you staring all the time y'know, you're not very good at hiding it."
Ao'nung feels his heart drop through the floor and into the stone-cold basement beneath them. Fuck. He fucked up, he fucked up so bad, Spider must think he's a freak-
"It's cute."
"What?" he didn't mean to ask that out loud, but when he did, he said it far too loud.
Spider just laughs at him, gently and without malice, his eyes crinkling into almost nothing, his cheeks going a little red, his nose scrunching a little. Ao'nung feels his heart swell.
"Oh, it's never subtle, especially since you turn bright red, and the second you realize I'm looking back, you turn tail and run away like you have the devil on your heels," he pauses to wipe the tears from his eyes, "It's just cute, adorable even. I kinda like having a not so secret admirer."
"You don't think I'm some total freak?"
"Nah dude.... who's to say I'm not staring back?" he said nonchalantly.
Ao'nung was sure his brain was melting, cause he just found out his crush might like him back? Potentially. And that was just simply mind-boggling, cause, he wasn't gonna sell himself short, but he never thought he could be on Spider's radar.
They hung out with different people, and he used to be an ass to his siblings before he transferred to be here, and sure he apologized and made up with them, he always seemed to hold a bit of a grudge.
"You are?" he had to ask.
"Mmmmmm, maybe a little," he replied with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. "I will admit, at first it was because I was trying to make sure you weren't being an ass, but, things might be changing."
Ao'nung nodded to himself, clearing his throat, trying to decipher what that could even mean. Was Spider saying he was starting to like him too? did he have a shot with him?
"Listen, the bells about to ring, so why don't I give you this," he pulled a pen from the spine of his binder, tearing the corner off of one of his sheet music, which felt oddly intimate, and wrote something down on it, before handing it to him.
It was his number. Spider just gave him his number.
"Text me? we can start gettign to actually know each other, and maybe you could start joining me in here during free period, I could give you some lessons on the harp if you'd like?" now Spider sounded a little sheepish.
Which somehow made Ao'nung feel a bit more confident, so for the first time in seemingly forever, he answered Spider with some level of confidence.
"Yeah, I'd like that, I'd like that a lot."
"Good, good, I'd like that too."
They were both smiling now. The bell rang. They both hesitated to break eye contact.
"I'll text you, promise." Eywa, he was making promises. Already. He really was a hopeless sap. But it felt right when Spider huffed a laugh at it, a hand coming up to cover his smile a little. He was flattered.
"You better, stalker," Spider laughed, finally starting to pack up his stuff.
"Rude," he faked a gasped, lingering in the door, knowing he had to get to class, and he needed to let Spider pack up so he wouldn't be late himself, but wanting to let the moment last just a little longer.
"I think staring is rude, but I think I'll give you a pass, so long as you stop running away when I catch you, deal?"
"Deal."
"And you have to meet me here tomorrow."
"I will, it's a date," the words slipped out of his mouth without thinking about how it could be interpreted, "oh, not like-"
"It's a date" Spider repeated.
Ao'nung found he could only nod. It's a date. Even if it wasn't like that, it was still nice to think about. a date with an angel.
"Now go, before you're late, wouldn't want you to get in any trouble." Spider crossed his arms and jutted out his hip like he was some disappointed mom or something.
"Right, bye Spider."
He waved goodbye. It was corny and childish, but he waved. Spider waved back. He had his number clutched tightly in his other palm. Spider had his phone clutched in his hands as if he couldn't wait for the message to come any longer.
"Bye Stalker."
He has a feeling he's gonna have to get used to that nickname, but as he rounds the corner, his chest still feeling warm and full of butterflies, he doesn't think he minds all that much.
#this was so random#but I loved the harp back when I was in highschool orchestra and fought to play it myself but failed to get the funding for it#(harps are so expensive oh my god)#and I really think it's an instrument so fitting for Spider so I projected it onto him#and I have aocorro brainrot at the moment. so I wrote this.#when Spider called Ao' dude. he really meant âfuture boyfriendâ#writing romance is not my strong suite so I don't know how good this is#and Ao'nung is surprisingly hard to write#so idk how I feel about this#ending this felt impossible#it wouldn't just come to an end#even when there was nothing else to write#Spider was making a move. this kid had been staring at him for weeks and acting a damn fool. he was putting an end to it#and how to pop that conversation on a guy other than to wait till his guard was down and he was moments away from a heart attack#they're just silly#avatar 2#avatar the way of water#spider socorro#miles spider socorro#miles socorro#ao'nung#aonung#aocorro#tigerseal#seamonkey
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coup de foudre
sunjae tossed and turned in bed, legs kicking at the bedsheet clinging to his body as he struggled to get comfortable.
he felt restless. somewhat breathless.
he presses a hand against his chest, right over his heart, and feels it still beating at a much faster pace than normal.
he lets out another sigh as he turns to face the window, eyes catching the raindrops pelting against the glass.
it was raining that day too.
the day he met her.
sunjae flops back onto his back, head hitting his pillow as he stares up at the ceiling.
his neighbour-
sol. lim sol.
continue reading on ao3
the reason behind the feeling in his chest â the reason behind the racing thoughts and uneven heartbeat.
he presses the heel of his hands against his eyes, trying and failing to breathe at a more normal pace in an attempt to calm his beating heart: with thoughts of their first meeting still fresh in his mind, swirling around and refusing to disappear, it was hard to control it.
the sound of the rain shower outside only made it worse â he used to hate the rain, think it a nuisance.
now it only reminded him of her â her yellow umbrella, her bright smile, her twinkling eyes- standing on her tiptoes and leaning forward as she sheltered him from the rain, fingers softly brushing against his-
no.
sunjae shakes his head, letting out a deep breath as he tries to put a stop to the thoughts showering his mind with snapshots of her.
dropping his arms back to his sides, he opens his eyes and turns his head back towards the window, staring at the downpour-
and thatâs when it happens.
a soft melody starts playing in his head, a melody shortly followed by a sudden flash of a bright smile, of the colour yellow-
and then a line.
The falling rain suddenly wakes me up
I'm lost in my thoughts about you
you seep into my heart again
sunjae has never officially studied music, never professionally gotten any lessons, but music has always followed him one way or another.
something, he thinks, his mother left behind, just for him.
maybe this was how he could get this restless feeling to ease â maybe he just needed to get it out and onto paper, onto something.
swinging his legs off the bed and on to the floor, sunjae sits up and reaches out towards his desk, pulling an old notebook and pen towards him.
he stops just as pen hits paper and wonders â was she like sunshine to him? or was she like rain? a sudden unexpected shower, a surprise downpour â a gift from the heavens, as it changes everything it touches.
he taps the tip of the pen against the paper for a moment, pondering.
she was a mix of both â his very own shelter from the rain; his light in the dark â while also bringing in a new beginning, a refreshing change that shook him to his core.
in those few seconds where his gaze met her bright shimmering eyes, his entire world had shifted â as the rain crashed down around them and seeped into the cracks in the ground, she had already settled into his heart.
mind decided, he writes down the first words to what would one day be a worldwide hit, a ballad to his first and only love:
i wished it would never end,
the day you first came to me
i hoped it wouldnât just be a sudden shower
#i took some liberties with where each line shows up#mostly cause i know the english translation donât do the og song justice#ANYWAY I LOVE THIS SONG AND THE IDEA BEHIND IT so i felt compelled to imagine what wouldâve driven him to write it and when and how#lovely runner#lovely runner fic#ryu sun jae#lim sol#soljae#god this was a struggle tho idk if itâs any good BUT HEY I WEOTR A THING AGYER BEING INSPIRED SO. progress#my fics
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thinking about. i dont know how to phrase this really but. chloe and frank.
like. when Chloe killed Frank i (, personally,) feel like her guilt from it was less because she killed Frank, and More because she Killed Someone (and their dog).
but!!! thats not to say she didnt feel guilty for killing Frank. because she definitely did. because on some level. despite everything. despite all of his shitty behavior. a part of her still cared for him. that tiny 15-17ish year old part in her still cared for him.
because that 15-17ish year old with intense abandonment issues in her only had. a small handful of people in her life that actually cared for her, and when THOSE few people arenât even doing the best job at itâ itâs no shit that Chloeâs standards for Good Friends are going to be Immensely dropped.
and so. itâs kind of like what happened with Rachel, but WAY less intense. when she found someone who didnât hate her, and was willing to hang around herâafter so so long of people hating her and not wanting to be around herâ it makes sense that part of her would kinda latch onto them a little bit.
and so, even after all of the shit sheâs learned he didâ even when Frank starts to hate herâ even when he threatens Max and herâs livesâ part of her keeps remembering him as one of the few guys who stuck around when no one else did.
itâs just that. no matter how bad the personâ if youâve known someone for years, and they were one of the only nice people to you in a town where theres like. four people that are nice to youâ itâs gonna hurt if you kill them. even if it was self defense. even if it was entirely their own faultâ even if you two arenât on even remotely good terms anymore.
ESPECIALLY for such a sentimental person like Chloe. taking that in consideration it makes me wonder. maybe she didnât feel bad for killing Frank. maybe she felt bad for killing the person Frank used to be to her. but maybe she realized that That Frank already died long ago.
but yeah. im mentally ill. take everything i said with a grain of salt considering it is 12:07 AM.
#my thoughts are a mixture of coherentness but also just enough of radio static that i cant write much of it out Correctly#but anyways dont you think itâs a little fucked that.#and maybe im reading it wrong but#like.#she really wanted to be friends with him in bts#she was really put that position#god idk#feel free to discuss about the whole. âchloe felt bad for killing Somebody not just frankâ thing. thatâs not something im 100% set in stone#with LOL. im open to other interpretations of it#that isnt to say the rest of this isnt open to discussionâ but that part In Particular is#this post is mostly about how âfrank was chloes friendâ more than anything#itâs about how. out of the entire town. the shitty drug dealer is one of the guys who gives an actual shit about her#and about how. something happened in between BTS and LIS to make them hate eachother#like YES the 5000 dollar debt but that just CANT be it can it? was it rachelâs disappearance that destroyed them?#or did frank start declining after the whole dameon thing??? WHAT CHANGED THEMâŠ..#anyways im sure im not the first to think of this and im ready to hear other peoples opinions on it#SCREAMING AND CRYING BC CHLOE IS LITERALLY SUCH A GOOD CHARACTER BUT PEOPLE ARE TOO MISOGYNISTIC TO SEE IT RAHGDHSGSHGA#if i had a nickel for every time i said âevenâ âdespiteâ or âbecauseâ in this post iâd be rich#life is strange is a game about tragedy. and. misogyny.#ALSO TAKE IN CONSIDERATION. if u read this far.#that chloe likely met frank Before she was Really Truly convinced that there was zero hope for her to find somebody who cared for her#so it took a lot less effort for someone like frank to leave an imprint on chloe atp of her life.#and also partly why it was So Much More intense with rachel#hoping to god this is coherent#lis#life is strange#chloe price#frank bowers#rachel amber#âŠ. i really doubt it will happen
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I think I'll have a seizure when you'll write the confrontation with Leo (I'm not ready)
Anyway, it's good to have you back, missed you <3 i had a very nice bedtime reading today
:)
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for the ask game (3)
au where all robins develop a mental link after fighting some magical criminal of the week. what would they see in each other's minds? what secrets and repressed feelings do they discover? how would they deal with it?
for the ask game!
oooh, i love telepathic links that end up revealing secrets. especially with a family like the Batfam, who are usually so convinced they're good enough at reading each other to not have many secrets kept. so weird reveals are always fun
if i did this, i'd do DamiTim. just because of all the like, "deep dark feelings that are being hidden" for Robin shipping, DamiTim is the most fun for me. you expect DickTim or DickJay or JayTim, even DamiDick. but there's something that's so enjoyable about Damian having his feelings forcibly outted. not just to Tim, but to everyone. the way it'd be an active landmine none of them knowing what to say but all feeling each other's reactions. i honestly think Damian would try to punch somebody about it. (also, if you do a history of TImSteph where they've had sex, Damian would be directly linked to Steph's memories of how Tim was in bed, so that's fun as both something horrifying and enlightening just to screw with his feelings some more.) would they end up together? in my head probably, but it'd be weird and likely toxic bc how do you date someone you know inside out and know exactly what they think of all your flaws and what parts of you they obsess over. the answer is not very well but hey, the sex is good-
i think Jason *directly* feeling how everyone felt about his death would really rock him. he's heard all the apologies, but part of him isn't convinced there's truth to them. so to be crushed by Dick's *grief* over his death would be a come to jesus moment for him. but on the less fun flipside, you have him feeling how Dick feels about him *now*. because Dick doesn't really *like* Jason and deep down, sees Jason as a lost cause. that's his "deep dark secret". and Jason would feel and know that from the one person who he still wants to believe in him. i really do think Jason would have the Worst Time with all this, overwhelmed with everyone's intimate and complex feelings over his death. Jason is a very defensive person when it comes to his death and how reactionary he gets when other people make it about them, not him. so for Jason to have to constantly deal with that in his head, i truly do think he'd lash out a bit. the arguments. yelling at Dick and feeling Dick's guilt and snapping bc Dick has no right to feel guilty now. feeling that Tim viewed Jason as a failure. it's just a damaging mindspace to be in and man do i think Jason would take a While to recover.
oddly though, i think it'd be a good bonding moment for Steph and Jason. we really don't get much exploration of Steph and Jason bonding over dying. bc sure, Steph didn't actually die, but she *did* experience the social death where everyone believed she was dead and mourned her as such for a good while. she also felt *directly* responsible for her own death. a lot of blame falls on Steph for War Games (for the Doylist reasons of sexism but yk) and Jason feels responsible for his own death for walking into a trap. but unlike Jason, Steph had no suit in a case, no memorials, her name held no infamy. so i think she deserves just a bit of righteous fury about how dramatic Jason can be while she just has to move on bc hey, it's not like she *really* died. and she buries those feelings well, but not well enough to hide them from a mental link. and Jason, who hasn't really considered Steph before because he was so wrapped up in his complex over Tim, confronts those feelings with her. if anyone is going to know how he feels, it's going to be her. you could do it platonic or romantic, but i do think when Jason sinks to his lowest, she's the one who snaps him out of it, both with tough love and genuine compassion for his situation.
for the less serious crack of it all: they're all going to have far too intimate knowledge of each other's sex lives. everyone's gonna know Dick has fucked Slade. everyone's gonna know Jason has fucked Talia. in my heart, i believe Tim has slept with Anarky (Lonnie, not Ulysses) and everyone would *know* that too. absolute judgment all around. it's the spider-man meme of "wait you've done WHAT with WHO" and honestly, it gives a nice distraction for the more serious feelings. it's a palette cleanser they can default to. like when the fighting gets a little too serious and they're cutting too deep for comfort, someone's going to blurt out "well at least i didn't fuck Deathstroke." and the whole moment goes awry with laughter. bc i do think, at the end of it once they get through the worst of the angst, they'd be closer for it and self-aware of the ridiculous nature of all this. it's enlightening, in a way to see how they all felt about their time as Robin and the baggage/trauma they hold. even the ugliest feelings they hold for each other don't completely suffocate the fondness/respect.
that said, knowing the baggage/trauma. oof. i don't think Dick has ever fully opened up about his history with Mirage/Tarantula/Liu and now it's forced to sit in the open. Damian has never admitted the worst of being raised in the League. Tim hasn't fully faced the suffocating image of his dead father and his deep-seated want to kill Boomerang. all those ugly truths they stamp down bc well, either you're a vigilante or you're a well adjusted person, are out in the open now. and it's ugly and gruesome to force those thoughts to be shared. they all want to comfort each other for different reasons, while simultaneously not wanting their own trauma to be acknowledged. it'd be fun to see who'd instinctively react to whose trauma first. because it's an overwhelming rush of information, and you just naturally get pulled in certain directions. i think Damian would react to Dick's history of sexual abuse first, whereas Jason would be reacting to the murderous rage TIm is trying to fight off. Tim is reacting to just how much guilt Steph carries about War Games and all of it is very crunchy. there's so much they'd all have to talk about and it'd take days for them to address it all, between the arguments about the ugly parts. would they come out stronger for it? yes. but only if they didn't kill each other in the process. i hesitate to do a "and they come out one big happy family" ending, bc it's not very in canon, but i do think the bond of the Robin mantle is something special. even when the link is broken, they hold onto a freakish understanding of each other. they react and move in sync, can fight together without needing words. are they emotionally on the same page/have they forgiven each other for the worst of it? absolutely not. but they've got each other backs. it's a very much "if you called i'd drop everything to save you. but also we don't have it in us to hang out casually." bond, which i think is deeply underrated in fanfiction. sometimes, you can care about people but you have to do it from a distance.
#necrotic festerings#damitim#potential jaysteph#sladick#batcest#i actually really love this. i might try to write it.#like there are SO many complex interpersonal things happening and god it's good.#also writing this reminds me of tags you put on the post about batfamily fanon#where you said you shipped jaytalia noting how I critiqued it in the meta#and i never got to clarify but i do actually think jaytalia *could* be fun#it's just one of those ships that falls into the âi love the concept but i don't think i'd enjoy it in canonâ category for me!#esp the way it was handled in lost days bc it dropped out of NOWHERE and felt ooc given talia's motivations#and i love shipping it but *only* using it for a âjason fucked damian's mom jokeâ always irks me bc. lord get new material yk#those are my thoughts on that anywya#this is so crunchy. forced mental links as a plot device. aways so good.#like the end result would be messy as fuck but in a loving way#the batfam can love each other fiercely without having sitcom movie night type moments yk#bc their bond isn't domestic it's shaped by their vigilante lives#they know each other as vigilantes first so like. they struggle to connect as normal ppl even if they love each other#and know each other that personally#it's nuanced. it's fun.
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Listen back when I was like 12 I was OBSESSED with Tower of God on Webtoon and I followed it closely for a few years but then I got so confused and bored during the arc with the like dog people (to many fight scenes and also everyone can fly now???) that I stopped reading HOWEVER I am still ultimate Khun/Bam trash and whenever I think of them I get wistful and I want to reread but I can never get past the confusion. Idk if I should keep going since I know thereâs lots out since I stopped reading. The thing is if itâs still just gonna be like fight scenes with very little substance (+ 10 million characters introduced in every arc just to disappear) I feel like Iâm gonna have to stop reading again and I donât wanna reinvest myselfâŠ.what to doâŠthe nostalgia is calling to meâŠ
#THE BEGINNING WAS SO GOOD#like the art has improved a lot but I feel like the writing used to be better#it felt so epic and magical#where I left off it felt more like a fighting game in storymode#plus it didnât make sense why everyone could suddenly float#and the POWERCREEP was so annoying#like everyone is a god now so whereâs the stakes#BUT MAYBE IT GETS BETTER#maybe I need to keep reading#I need to know what happens to my boy Bam#and what his backstory is#tower of god#tog#tower of god webtoon#webtoon#webcomics#tog Webtoon#bam Webtoon#bam tog#the 25th bam#khun#khun aguero agnis#khunbam#bam/khun
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ok. migi & dali opening. i am going to talk about it now.
throughout the opening we see so many Things. the entire series up until the second to last episode, i hadn't paid that close attention to it because god that song is a banger and honestly i was more focused on the music than the animation, despite being captivated by it every episode. but that episode for some reason. i paid more attention that time and had some Realizations.
one question i've had every single time the opening has played has been "why does one of them take the cherry pie and the other does not?" throughout the opening the two of them are seen doing the same things, effectively mirroring each other, which makes sense considering it was most of the plot for the first few episodes, so i really didn't think about it too much. but with that pattern established, it's extremely strange when, at the end, one of them strays from the shared course of action to take one of the slices of cherry pie that's sitting on the chairs.
another thing i noticed when i actually paid attention was that the one in the shadows in all their activities is always dali.
and if that's not enough, we have this shot of migi and dali as sun and moon respectively, and i think we all have enough media literacy to understand the implications of that.
then we have this shot of them, showing migi floating higher and dali sinking lower.
all of these screenshots to say that the opening animation tells us exactly what the series, or at least the part that the anime currently covers, is about at its core. we see it in the series time and time again as these two try to make their way through the world.
migi is portrayed in the series as somewhat childish, frequently to a fault - generally more hopeful in what he believes, which shows in his actions and the way he interacts with others in a genuine way. dali is severe and bitter, much more driven by the idea of getting revenge for their mother, seemingly just for the sake of it at this point, and being willing to do it at any cost because he doesn't value anything other than his brother.
migi sees the good in things and, while still helping dali with their shared goal, is genuinely enjoying his life with this family and in this town. dali, on the other hand, is dedicating everything he has to their goal, not caring or bothering to invest any part of himself into anything else. (this is portrayed also by migi being in the light, enjoying the activities he's doing, and dali being in the shadows, spending all his time trying to solve their mystery.)
this conflict of priority between them results in the fight they have in episode 9. a showdown between hope and despair, over a bike in a river, all as a result of migi's off-comment about wanting to eat cherry pie again.
and now the bike. they state this explicitly in the dialogue, but it's the first gift migi has ever gotten. so when dali throws it in, he does not hesitate even a little bit to jump in and get it. the bike is meaningless to dali - just another thing to toss and discard for the sake of moving forward. he gives up on everything so easily because he never bothered getting attached in the first place. he's so quickly ready to abandon anything and everything aside from migi. there's no way that he can be happy like that and migi knows that. migi is all he has and they both know that.
the jealousy he expresses is just jealousy that migi is able to find happiness and value in things other than him while he's unable to do the same, as a result of his bitterness and his fixation on finding their mother's killer. he's jealous that migi is growing closer to other people and making connections that are important enough to him that he's not willing to just throw them away with the toss of a bike.
so he takes his brother down. he forces his head underwater, and asks if he's still thinking about that cherry pie (THIS LINE IS SO FUCKING GOOD!!!!!!!!!!!). he tries to drag migi down with him into his own despair, tries to convince migi that his beloved cherry pie isn't really all that important. that it's not worth as much as migi's acting like it is.
he tries to literally beat the hope out of migi. he is so desperate to be hopeless that he beats the shit out of his brother over and over about it.
but, of course, that would never be enough to stop him.
and we're back to the cherry pie. dali finally caves and agrees to go back and try to sort things out, not because it's what he thinks is best for their safety, but because it's what migi wants for his happiness. he realizes that he'll only continue to hurt migi if he pushes his own cynicism on him and forces him to leave everything behind, since he had the guts to get attached. even though dali doesn't really understand the value of the cherry pie, he sees how much it matters to his brother. he sees his resolve to experience those small moments of happiness again.
the cherry pie is taken from migi's side of the shot.
throughout the entire story, migi has been the one to see the value in the simple things, like taking walks with the dog, having friends to hang out with and do wacky bird shit with, riding a bike, and eating cherry pie together. he is not afraid to experience joy and is willing to fight for it, for both him and his brother, even if his brother doesn't see the value in it quite yet.
migi will see the good in things. he will have hope for the future. and he will take the cherry pie.
#migi & dali#migi to dali#migi and dali#felt like such a dork writing that last section#BUT I LOVE THIS SHOW AND THE THINGS IT SAYS TO U#I LOVE U THEMES AND MESSAGES#me: i should go to sleep#my brain: u should write up a tumblr analysis post abt this anime opening and the significance of its shots in relation to the series theme#me: ok#the way i hit the image limit and had to get rid of some#ARE U STILL THINKING ABOUT THAT CHERRY PIE IS SUCH A GOOD LINE U GUYS#could prob write a whole nother post abt dalis reluctance to let himself get attached to things#and his at any cost mindset and how it hurts migi thruout the series#but.#might get a little too personal xo so maybe i wont#I LOVE U HOPE VS DESPAIR THEMES#ok anyway#god#this took me 2 hrs to type up and gather screenshots for#ANYWAY TIME TO GO TO SLEEP#ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZ#meta
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Oh wow. Today's entry is something else. I remembered the scene with the three vampire women was memorable, but the sheer tension of it, the way Jonathan describes being torn between desire and terror. An agony of delightful anticipation. No wonder people have been thirsting after vampires for decades, holy shit.
#there is *so much* going on in this entry. the whole bit about the Count being able to love??#the Count *softly whispers* that he's also able to love. *softly whispers*.#there's a monster here with you. he's trapping you. he's hunting you. he's driving you to madness. you can't save yourself.#and he *softly whispers* that he can love. that he can love you.#but his love is hunger and in being the object of his love you're doomed.#im going feral ngl. holy hell.#the *description* of the blonde vampire going to bite jonathan's neck... ohhh my god thank goodness i was seated#because i felt his excruciating anticipation myself#no wonder i haven't read carmilla yet i'm not sure i'd be able to cope#i'll come back to reread this entry because it's a masterclass in how to write anticipation#also the Count says he has loved the brides too. diversity win!#the monster currently trapping you in his castle is bisexual!#dracula daily
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