#part 2 !!! Tumblr posts

[cursio-neptune]

Masa Moondrop Curry Part 2

<< First < Previous ~*~

Eclipse's previous appearance was here (in which he did indeed perfectly make both dishes... and proceed to throw them in Sun's face.)

[thevoidstaredback]

The interview went as all interviews had in the past. Almost. The only thing worse than interviewing Bruce Wayne or Tim Drake-Wayne is interviewing them together. Not that Clark's ever had the pleasure before now.

Separate, they're tolerable, easy to talk to and understand, a nice flow to the conversation. Together, they're constantly switching off with strange, almost not there pauses between the question and their answer. sometimes, they both go to answer before one twitches and the other answers.

In the rare times where Clark's seen the two at an event outside of Gotham that he's covering, the two - and their family, now that he thinks about it - have always seemed just barely this side of surreal. He'd first chalked it up to celebrity worship, or even just their status, but he's met and talked to tens of celebrities and they've never made him feel this way.

Batman, as he thinks, makes him feel this way. Like he's in the presence of something not quite right; like his friend is barely toeing the line of something other than human.

Maybe it's a Gotham thing? Because the other of Batman's Cauldron give off the same strange feelings. Most of the Wayne Family, too, but not all.

'Supernatural', Clark things is the word he's looking for.

But that's crazy because Batman goes out of his way to avoid anything supernatural as much as he can, outside of necessity.

As he walks away from the building an hour later, Clark shudders. He hadn't realized the intense weight he was under until he'd left the father-son duo behind, but now it was obvious. Despite every warning from anyone who's ever been to Gotham, Clark finds himself relaxing now that he's in the open.

Being in the open is safe. Being in the open means that he can flee in almost any direction with a big changes of escaping.

But why does he feel like that? Like he's prey at the mercy of something that's not quite on the hunt yet?

Twenty minutes after leaving Wayne Tower, Clark finds himself in a quaint little cafe. There's a dog door in the far wall, leading to the bodega next door, though no animal has come through it yet.

The lights in the building are low, only just bright enough to make sure no one trips on anything. Curtains cover the windows entirely, but they're not black-outs.

Thanks to his superpowers, Clark hears the noise several streets over. It's the same sound that Batman's grappling gun makes whenever he doesn't want Superman to carry him. That must mean that one of the Cauldron is out. Signal, if he's not mistaken.

Against every part of his journalistic self, Clark doesn't research his coworkers or their compatriots. If they want him to know something, they usually tell him. So, he has no idea what to do now that Signal - there's a bat on his chest! - has come into this dim, tiny cafe an hour before Clark's train leaves.

Signal gives him the same feeling that Bruce Wayne and Tim Drake-Wayne gave him. It's the same feeling that Batman gives off, but slightly to the left.

The barista is much friendlier to Signal than they were to Clark. "Hey, Signal! The same as usual?"

Signal smiles, Clark thinks, though the helmet makes it hard to be sure. "Yes, please. And, could you add on Red Robin's normal order?"

The barista raises an eyebrow, ringing up the order. "Evening shift said that Robin told them that RR's been cut off by Batman. I'm not gonna have him on my ass, right?"

A laugh falls from Signal. "No, don't worry about it."

"He bribed you, didn't he." It's not a question.

"Yeah."

A snort. "All right."

THe drinks are made and handed off shortly thereafter. Clark can't help but wonder what the hell he just witnessed.

Part 2 Part 3

[wordfather]

me: hey so how far does your 'all-seeing' sight extend?

the many eyed creature in my basement: ARE YOU ASKING BECAUSE YOU TRIPPED ON YOUR OWN SHOELACES IN THE FOYER AND FELL ON YOUR FACE?

me: oh... so you saw that... :(

the many eyed creature (trying to be nice): ................ NO.

[yourangle-yuordevil]

If you can't see them they can't see you, right?

[quercus-queer]

Small collection of The Chicago Rat Hole saga

[bllmak]

[onebadnoodle]

i asked my mutuals to send me their ocs so i could design them outfits! here is part 2

[pygmi-says-hi]

writing tips - fevers

guys so the injury post absolutely fucking exploded (500 notes in 24 hours is a lot for me) and the fever part really threw yall for a loop.

I didn't go into it but I can! just to clear up questions.

Fevers are funky asf

like, there are so many factors that indicate when a fever is like a big deal and when it's not. part of it has to do with the age of the patient, how long the fever lasts, any causes or prexisting conditions....

Like this:

If person is feverish due to an infection, their symptoms are gonna be slightly different than someone who is fighting the flu. this is because the antibodies are attacking different parts of the nervous system with different kinds of chemicals blah de blah blah blah.

The younger the patient, the more susceptible they are. if the character is a child, a fever of 102 F is way worse than a 30 year old man experiencing that. It'll take a larger toll on the baby's body.

Some people have naturally higher body temps. There is a standard deviation away from the target temp that is still ok. Some people simply exist at 99.2 F, even though for some that's febrile.

idk man it's weird people are weird don't @ me about it.

obviously it's bio science which means not everything has exactly a clear answer. there are so mnay variables at play that it's easier just to blanket statement the whole thing.

because this isn't a blog for medical advice.

please don't use this blog for medical advice.

100% of death.

thanks guys love the effort

xox

[wetsocksinbed]

Hera, gesturing to Omega: she and her brothers saved my life

Kanan: her brothers?

Hera: a rogue group of clones. They called themselves the “Bad Batch” *laughs*

Kanan:

Kanan: WAIT

[ltwilliammowett]

Ship's Cat Chiclet - the Mascot of the Mary A. Whalen (1938) a retired oil tanker, Brooklyn, New York

[slvttyplum]

sugurus goal at the moment wasn't to fuck you just to fuck you, his goal was to feel how wet you felt around his dick thrusting inside of you and his tongue softly sliding over your neck. he saw how wet you got from grinding on the pillow below you, touching yourself, your breath rapidly getting faster, and the moans slipping past your lips, becoming more and more hoarse.

suguru needed that. he needed your wet pussy dripping and grinding on his hard dick that was slipping past his brief band; he was rock hard, and his cum was leaking past the tip. he couldn't look at you and continue to get pleasure from the intimate object any longer. he made a promise to himself that whenever he saw you getting off with the pillow, he would do you one better and fuck you then and there, and boy did he live up to that promise. 

he was surprised to see how much you actually got off without him. there was a slither of doubt that you actually enjoyed fucking him, but his doubt was covered up by the reactions he received from you when he was deep inside of you, rubbing on your stomach and pressing on it so he could feel how deep you were fucking you. your walls clenching around him every time he pushes into your sweet spot, your soft moans as whimpers when he presses into it for seconds longer. 

suguru knew that you grinding on the pillow and touching yourself couldn't possibly have the same effect of his dick softly pushing against your sweet spot and his thumb rubbing over your clit as your hands rubbed over your breasts. there was too much stimulation for you to even breathe properly. your body jolting with pleasure whenever he pushed into you, finishing over and over again just from him with no help from anyone or anything.

watched as you whimpered and moaned about being fucked dumb. he wanted to let you know that only he could make you feel this good, and no one else could. your eyes either squint shut or roll up. the feeling of his dick pushing your walls out and making your stomach clench from the overwhelming pleasure.

this overstimulation of him fucking you and not stopping until he was tired happened every day because he caught you on the pillow, rolling your hips with your tongue out as you built up the stimulation. you didn't want that; he knew that, he knew you wanted his dick pushing into your sweet spot with no stopping, he knew that you wanted to squirt all over him as you begged and whimpered for him to keep his hands on you. 

suguru didn't mind, though. 

this is what he wanted; he wanted you to come running to him with your dripping core, wanting him to fuck you, not the pillow that could barely get you off. it irritated him; he could make you feel good and amazing, so why not call him to fuck you? he didn't care if he had to take off work; if you wanted him to fuck you, that's exactly what he was going to do. 

as time went on, of course, the stimulation you got from the pillow couldn't compare to what suguru was putting down whenever he caught you. he had pleasure crashing down on you that you could barely comprehend what was going on; he had you finished in two minutes. getting on the pillow when you knew he was coming so he could fuck you like he was trying to prove something.

between the pillow and suguru, you threw the pillow out and started using suguru; he was way better.

[dcxdpdabbles]

phone a friend♥️

danny is a god and poor tim is trying so hard to ignore his family talking about the wedding

Tim watches Danny as the other boy gestures wildly to the art around them. It's surprising to know that Danny has never been to a art museum, claiming the small town he was from never had one.

Oh, they had small art shows and a few street markets, but nothing official like a building dedicated to art. Their teacher had announced to the class a semi-famous water color painter's work was going to be on exhibit a week ago.

She offered extra credit to anyone who would go and write a report about their experience.

Very few people cared, seeing as a majority of the student body of Gotham would go to art auctions at least once a week. Tim had been among those that didn't plan on attending, seeing as his grade were adequate enough, and he's been to the art museum often with Damian.

Then he glanced at the desk next to him, watching frost slowly form around Danny's hands as the boy read about the museum. A few seconds later, he stuffed the flyer into his backpack, the sound of snickering from further down telling Tim that some of the more annoying classmates saw how fascinated Danny was.

Knowing him, Danny would probably act like it was lame if only to save face with his classmates who didn't accept or deserve him. The frost vanished, replaced with a soft echo in Danny's voice as he muttered about how he didn't think he could afford to waste money on a museum ticket.

Tim likely wasn't supposed to hear that. He picks up the flyer, considering it with an pair of great importance, just long enough for Danny to realize that Tim was doing so before gesturing at it.

"That sounds cool. Easy extra credit. Do you want to go with me, Danny?" Tim found himself asking. Danny's entire face lit up, frost forming around the windows near him in beautifual snowflack shapes.

Thank goodness the two sat so far back in the classroom, and the winter was well underway. No one would question the frost in this environment.

That's how he found himself, wandering around the Gotham art museum with an overly hyper meta on a cold winter Saturday. They sold hot chocolate at the entrance- with strict instructions to not go beyond the ropes- and he took sips as Danny oh and ah at everything.

He tried really hard to ignore his family, who were following them room by room just outside Danny's range. They weren't even in disguises! The idiots were walking around as the Waynes but were moving in a way that made it impossible for them to "accidentally" bump into Tim and Danny.

This kind of behavior he expects from his siblings, maybe Bruce due to Danny's meta powers, but Alfred? Why had Alfred forsaken him so?

"Tim, look at this piece!" Danny calls, pointing to a very dramatic interpretation of the Black Plague in the form of a grim reaper towering over a cowering village.

Tim shoot the doorway a glare, catching the flash of one of Jason's wavings hands before he joins Danny infront of the rope. He's eyes take in every detail, every stroke, a bit breathless by how alive the paiting is.

"It's gorgeous." Tim breathes, eyes lingering on a figure atop a hill in the background. The figure has enough details that it's obvious he is also part of the story, not just the setting.

Despite his commoner clothing, he looked like an angel among the humans. The figure looked up at the grim reaper, his white hair flowing in the wind, and a gentle glow surrounding him.

His expression was remorseful but accepting of what was happening, and his beauty was almost inhuman as he watched the reaper bring the village to its knees. Tim swears he looked familiar, but he couldn't quite place the face due to its near-human features; there was just something more to it.

Tim points towards him. "I think that's supposed to be life."

Danny's eyes lock onto the glowing boy before choking on his drink. Alarm Tim pats his back as Danny coughs through the liquid. "Dude are you okay?"

"I'm fine!" Danny wheezes "Just fine. Um, when was this painted?"

There is a plaque right underneath the painting with the art detail. He squints at it before reading out loud: "Black Death's Shadow. Painted in 1886 by an unknown Goth artist. It's said that the artist was painting a story passed down through the generations of the survivors of a small village saved by the King."

Danny wheezes harder. "Wow that's crazy. It's really pretty. What-um what style would this be called? Need to write that essay for Mrs. X. "

"It looks like romanticism," Tim responded, leaning in the closer, chest now over the velvet ropes. He squits harder at the glowing figure, trying to figure out who it reminded him of. The artist was talented, but maybe they weren't able to capture the charater well based off of stories?

"Wow so cool," Danny said in a strained voice. He turns to look at his companion and is about to ask if something is wrong when a quick spark races across his shoulder blades. Surprised by the sensation, Tim jerks his shoulders, feeling as if though someone had shocked him.

He quickly glances around with his eyes, ensuring not to turn his head and witness other guests flinching at the tiny spark. A few are also looking around confused.

Did everyone just experience static electricity? At the same time? With no one touching metal or other conductors? How could that be?

Danny doesn't seem to notice Tim's puzzelment because he is staring at the painted white hair boy with a forced smile. "Why do you think this is Life?"

"Lots of things," Tim responds, tilting his head slowly to try and gather more information without tipping off whatever caused that charge. "Mostly the glow and inhuman features."

Another shock, a few people wince and another few laugh, but this time Tim saw a flash of soft sparks race across Danny's left hand, and his mouth makes a small o in realization.

Danny's meta powers were causing the static shocks. But what emotion was causing this?

"Inhuman?" Danny stammered, more sparks zapping across his hands but not strong enough that Tim could feel them.

"Yeah, he's inhumanly beautiful," Tim answered, watching in real-time as Danny's cheeks turned rosy while the sparks stopped. His hair started to fall out slowly, indicating happiness and slight bashfulness. He was acting like Tim had called him beautiful—not that he wasn't. Danny was fairly good-looking.

Huh.

Tim truned back to the painting compare it's feacture to the boy next to him and then it clicked.

Danny was the glowing boy in the painting, or more likely when using his powers. Cass did say Danny reminded her of Captain Marvel.

Now, the question remained: Was it just his powers, or was Danny physically present the day this was painted? Even further than that, was Danny there the day the painting's inspiration had happened, five hundred years before the artist painted the tale?

Was Danny unaware he was in the painting?

"Um, we should move on, yeah? I think I want to check out some of the sculptures?" Danny sputtered while tugging on Tim's hand. Without letting go his classmate dragged him out of the painting exhibits in brisk speed walk.

He definitely knows that was him. Tim thought, watching Danny's back as he let himself be led away. Does that mean I was wrong about him being a meta? Is Danny a god or god adjacent?

Meanwhile, the rest of the Waynes are crowding around the doorway of the painting hall, watching Tim and his not-human boyfriend practically run away.

"They are so cute together" Dick cooed, gestureing at where Tim seemed to not be able to take his eyes off the other. "I mean look at Tim. He's mesmerized!"

"What were they looking at?" Bruce questions, stepping into the room and standing before the painting that had Danny freezing up. "Why did this cause such a strong reaction?"

"Obviously, Father, it was due to how weak-willed Drake's courtship is. He didn't even attempt to hold Fenton's hand. Coward," Damian snips at his side, while Jason and the rest quickly follow after Tim. "I could never. I held Jon's hand the second he agreed to a romantic outing-"

"What?"

"What?"

The pair stared at each other in utter silence before Damian coughed. "We should make haste to follow Drake, least we lose him. Come along Father"

"Damian, come back here. Explain what you just said. Damian!"

[on-the-clear-blue]

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

[freakassfemme]

beloved butch abby and her soft femme

a/n: yeah, this is a self indulgent as fuck drabble <3 this is heavily inspired by my own relationship so sorry if it gets too niche </3 my fiancé and I just have a running joke about how much they are like abby so it kinda veered off that way. I still think its rly cute regardless

how you meet! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who manages a nice cafe a few streets off of downtown in a big city somewhere on a northern coast. she's stumbling in the front door, grumbling about how the delivery trucks always drop packages out front instead of the back when she sees you.

sure, she's used to tourists, but it's fucking february. hardly anyone is traveling, let alone for anything beyond the major sights, and you're sitting in a booth, sipping on a hot latte with lipstick stains on the mug and clasping your hands like a princess as you look over your scrapbooking supplies. yeah, you're a local.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who doesn't even bother trying to get your number at first. she's too busy with the cafe, with lev, with crippling debt from her attempt at medical school before her dad passed -- at least, that's what she tells herself and her coworkers who catch her ogling you when you show up more and more.

she notices some pins on your tote bag when you come up one day, listening to you chat to the barista and waving them off each time they ask her a ridiculous question like what syrups do we have, playing stupid so she is forced to interact with you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who just can't resist you when you start showing up more and more, so she goes home and listens to chappell fucking roan because she sees a pin on your bag. she hates it, but one day, after a month or so, she adds it to the morning Spotify shuffle, and just turns and smiles and says "me too" when she hears you telling the barista how much you love my kink is karma.

"oh my gosh, really?!"

yeah, everyone knows that's bullshit.

dating! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who surprises you with full on fucking roses every date night, which are often on Wednesdays, because she loves taking you to karaoke nights. no, she doesn't sing, but she'll hold up your mirror for you to check your makeup before you run on stage, singing something adorable like from the start by Laufey.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is always so delighted when you swing by midday, dropping off a handmade lunch in a cute little metal bento box, even if she's covered in flour. she'll bring you to her office, give you a little somethinggggg sweet to hold you over, make you a coffee and send you on your way.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is so scared to have you meet lev, her fingers are physically shaking when you two are in the same room together for the first time. lev is a little suspicious of you at first, but quickly becomes well-adjusted when you start sending baked goods home with abby for him as well.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who comes over to your apartment in a black tank top and sweats, hair messy whenever (yep! you guessed it!) the sink is clogged, because city plumbing is terrible and she's fixed them enough times at work to be able to save you from a regular bill each month. plus, the way you thank her is always payment enough

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who nearly fucking cries when you make her a homemade Christmas stocking. lev doesn't celebrate, and without her dad, she hasn't found a reason to do anything like that just for herself. so on Christmas morning, when she carefully shakes out a set of matching heart-shaped carabiners, yeah, she does cry a little bit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who shyly comes out of the bathroom one day holding some chest tape, asking if you’ll help her put it on because “for some reason the right side is halfway on but I put it on backwards on accident so I can’t get the plastic off so—“ (obviously you help her)

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who offers to buy you tennis skirts, athleisure dresses, fucking lululemon or whatever it is that will get you to come to the gym with her, even just to sit on her lap when she does hip thrusts. she loves sending you mirror pics after leg day, and yeah, you of course die every time.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who weaves through crowded downtown like it's nothing with you on her arm and two tote bags of your mail hanging from her arms when you finally get around to sending it out. she insists that she doesn't mind the little canvas bags with their floral prints.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who wears her beat up brown leather jacket like she's trying to run through the fabric. Lets you help her condition the material and put on patches, and even goes so far as to wrap you up a matching red one for your birthday that year.

as for her other clothes, she's constantly wearing little holes in the elbows and knees that you're more than happy to stitch up for her, and she swears her heart flutters every time she catches a glimpse of the woven embroidery thread in a green tee shirt or wool sweater.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who goes feral for the type o negative/out of the fire TikTok trend. she doesn't have her own account, but when you show her the videos of girls in their dainty Mary Janes stepping on to leather or work boots, she agrees without batting an eye, much to your surprise.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who slips a tag with your name on to it next to her other dog tags, keeping it like a secret special token on her necklace.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you do her hair sometimes, even though she's perfectly fine at it herself. she just adores those sweet late nights in her bedroom where you're rubbing some warm-smelling lotion into her back and weaving her hair back into place.

nsfw! <3

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who is a god damn sucker for praise and worship, both ways. she feels like you two are the only people in the world when she's on her knees, hands inching under your skirt and up your thighs while you purr sweet things in her ear, and she's telling you all the things she wants to do to you.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who definitely talks you through it, and is constantly astonished by just how into her you are.

"oh, fuck baby -- you're dirty, jesus,"

"she's so needy for me, huh? you gonna let me take care of her, baby?"

"mmpf, thank you, thank you--"

"fuck, i know baby, i know. you can, i know you can. you're taking it so well, let me do it f'you. shit"

-`♡´- beloved butch abby whose hand nearly rips the mattress open the first time you're sat in front of her, leaving little lipstick marks on her strap as you work your mouth around it, making a slobbery and moaning debauched version of your pretty self for her.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you slip a finger between her legs while you suck her strap, lets you push it inside while your mouth pushes the base of her strap against her clit until she's shaking and stuttering and practically face-fucking you.

yeah, she stays strapped up on dates, too.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who has a mean 3 finger combo that she'll pull out absolutely anywhere - in the back of her truck, on the kitchen counter, in the bar bathroom, wherever she sees fit.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who takes mirror selfies while you're riding her, or just in her lap, sucking on her neck or looking shyly back at the mirror. puts her huge ass hand on your ass, squeezing it and saves the photos for her own personal spank bank. the arch of your back drives her crazy.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who melts so easily under your prettily-painted nails, dragging down her abs while you murmur how handsome she is right into her pussy. her legs twitch, and god, she's trying so hard not to fucking crush you (not that you'd mind), but she about loses it when you ask her to sit on your face.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who hoists you on to her shoulders against the inside walls of her office, the door locked shut and your hand clamped over your mouth during her lunch break. covers up any stains on her shirt with her apron, acting like she needs to work up another batch of something while you're prancing out breathless and pink in the cheeks.

-`♡´- beloved butch abby who lets you play Jesse Jo Stark when you fuck in the backseat of her truck, hands intertwined and leaving palm prints on the steamy windows while you eat each other out in parking lots, murmuring I love you's while the truck rocks back and forth.

[thevoidstaredback]

It all seemed to start within a snap of Time; the tick of a clock; the drop of a hat; the blink of an Eye.

Just before any of the assembled Justice League could leave the Watchtower, every alarm went off and pandemonium re-erupted across the space station.

"What the hell is going on?" Batman demanded as he and Robin re-entered the meeting room they'd just left.

Constantine and Zatanna were both using several different ways of communication, talking in frantic tone and jumping between conversations without losing any of them. Deadman had disappeared completely. The America based heroes were all getting calls, all just as confused as each other as to what was going on.

Batman pulled up a map on the projector, the one that was shown in the Observation part of the Watchtower, and glared at the red dot that was slowly taking over Illinois. "Constantine, Zatanna. What is this?"

Constantine glared back at Batman, "What we were trying to avoid by calling a meeting today!" He went right back to whatever conversation he was having in Esperanto.

"Yeah, look what good that did us anyway," Zatanna scoffed between conversations, "We were both late and ignored." She, too, had started speaking on Esperanto.

"That's where Red is based," Robin said quietly from beside Batman. "I-I need to call- make sure she's alright!"

Batman put his hand on Robin's shoulder. "Don't panic, chum, we'll get a plan started and then you can all Red Huntress." The boy nodded, but opened his own communicator anyway, likely to contact his team. Batman turned to the heroes in the room. "Everyone!" He waited until all eyes were on him before continuing, "Calm down. Constantine, Zatanna, find out what's going on-"

"Already doing that, Batsy!" the man hollered before jumping into a fourth conversation.

Batman's eye twitched behind the white lenses of his mask, but he otherwise didn't react to the interruption. "-the rest of us need to go and isolate the threat. We'll plan from there. Make sure your comms are on. Robin, get your team ready for rescue efforts and try to contact Red Huntress to see if she knows what's going on." When the heroes started moving, he grabbed Superman. "Where's Deadman?"

Superman shook his head. "No idea. He was gone by the time any of us came back in here."

Batman nodded and let him go. Everyone was on their way to Illinois right now, but there was something that Zatanna said that struck him as strange. He didn't have to wait ong before her three ongoing conversations all came to a stop. "Earlier, you said that Amity Park liked to stay in Illinois. What did you mean?"

Zatanna jumped when he spoke, obviously not realizing he was still there, but she answered him, "The city's been prime for supernatural activity since its founding. On top of the two dimensional rifts, that much magic contained in one area is bound to give it some form of sentiance, especially because most of that magic is death and life focused."

He hummed and left the room with a sweep of his cape. Containing the issue will be tricky if the source manages to move around them. Regardless, it needed to be done fast.

***

It took another twenty minutes before all five on Constantine's conversations ended. He had gotten the same unfortunate answer from all five of them, and, judging by the look on her face, Zatanna had been given the same news as him.

"We tried to warn them. We fucking tried-!" she slammed her fist down on the table, "But we were too fucking late!"

He ran a hand down his face with a heavy sigh. "C'mon, mate, let's go make sure they don't fuck anything else up."

"And help them defend the idiots that started all this? No way. Let them lie in the grave they dug."

"Horrible metaphor, love. And, as much as I hate to say it, we can't let the world get taken over."

"Why not? They've been practically begging for it to happen since Superman was first introduced. That's why the Green Lanterns had to step in and lay down the law, quite literally." She huffed. "Besides, the Realms won't be gunning for the world. They're looking for their child."

"And if they don't find the kid in perfect condition?"

"...I see you're point."

"Good! We're on the same page, then."

She sighed again. "How're we going to play this? Are we running interference?"

"No," he shook his head, "The only thing we can do is keep anyone from dying or attacking."

"Without Deadman to talk to the Realms?"

"Yep,"

"You realize how hard this is gonna be, right?"

"I'm gonna make Batsy pay me in hard liquor."

"Agreed."

***

The Justice League had set up a perimeter around the town of Amity Park, Illinois. They were a few miles out from the town, close enough to see it but far enough away as to not set off any panic. When Constantine and Zatanna arrived, they had made it very obvious that the town and it's citizens were probably very aware that they were there. They called another meeting, though only taking a few heroes away from watch. Zatanna was the one to explain things to them while Constantine kept tabs on the town in case it decided to move.

The heroes still weren't exactly sure what they meant by that.

Zatanna stood at the front of the heroes she'd pulled aside. Batman, Wonder Woman, Superman, Aquaman, The Flash, and Green Lantern stood in a half circle, all very clearly anxious to keep their eyes on the town. Too bad for them, this was her specialty, so she got to keep facing it while they turned their backs.

"They aren't going to listen to you guys," Zatanna said, "Like we tried to warn you earlier, their looking for a child that the US Government took from them."

"The one in the pictures?" The Flash asked.

"Yep," she affirmed, "His name's Phantom, like we said. He's this town's hero."

"I thought Robin said Red Huntress was the town's hero?" Aquaman wondered.

Zatanna pushed down the flare of anger with a deep breath. "Phantom has been operating for several months longer than Red Huntress. she is closer to being a hero while Phantom leans more towards being a vigilante."

"Is that why he doesn't stick around after his fights?" Superman tilted his head slightly in question.

"Yes," she glared, "Can I get back on topic, or are we wanting to waste even more time?" The heroes fell silent and she waited for a few seconds before continuing. "From what Deadman explained, Phantom is technically still a baby ghost because he's only been dead for about a year." She ignored the expressions on the heroes faces. "Not only that, but he's the favorite of several Ancient Beings. Think Primordials or Titans."

"Oh, dear," Wonder Woman whispered. Several had paled slightly.

Zatanna nodded. "Don't attack any of the Realms' people, not even in self defense. We're going to have to help them find Phantom, keep them from attacking the US Government, and keep the Government from attacking them."

"A bit late for that!" A new voice joined the group. They all startled, reaching for weapons and dropping into ready stances.

Above and slightly to the side of the group was a girl who looked to be in her late teens. She had teal-grey skin, a slight teal glow, and flaming teal hair tied in a high pony, bangs framing her face. Her eyes glowed the same radioactive green as Phantom's had in the picture, though less so. She was wearing black pants, a black crop-top, grey knee boots, and a single black elbow glove. There was a guitar strapped to her back that gave off a slight purple glow. Even from where the Justice League heroes were standing, they could feel heat radiating off of here.

"And you are?" Batman asked.

"Don't matter who I am, does it?" the girl sneered, "What matters is that you dickheads took one of ours." She very obviously assessed the small group, looking each person up and down with a frown on her face. "Phantom told me that this place had other heroes, so where were you?"

Superman blinked. "Excuse me?"

"Where were you?"

"I'm, uh, not quite sure what you mean."

"You're talking about when this place was catalyst for world threats, right?" Zatanna stepped forward.

The girl turned her full attention to the magician. "So, you knew?"

Zatanna nodded. "Me and my colleagues were keeping on eye on Amity Park after the rifts opened up last year."

The girl seemed to reassess the magician. "You're one of the ones Deadman told us about."

"You know Deadma?" Green Lantern asked. He was ginored.

"Yeah?"

"I'm Ember." She landed and held her hand out for a hand shake. "Deadman got the Council to agree to hold ourselves in Amity until the end of the day. After that, we move on our own."

Zatanna shook her hand. "I'm Zatanna. We're gonna find him."

Ember glared, tightening her grip, "You better. He's done more for this world than you heroes even know." She turned her glare on the others before flying back up. "And once he's back with us, where he belongs, we'll think about a cease fire." She left before anyone could get another word in.

Zatanna fell into a squat, her hands covering her face. "This is a nightmare," she whispered, "That definitely could've gone much better." She popped back up to her full height. "Well, you heard her. We've got 'til the end of the day to find Phanom."

The group shared looks, nodding at each other before separating to spread the word to everyone else

The first plan was the same one they had for every mission that needed quick recon done. Flash was sent out to get a location. Once he had one, they'd set off.

Part 1 Part 3

[senseichaos]

hi hi! That one-shot you did with Alastor broadcasting his and reader's..."love-making" was rather delicious but I can't help but think of you know..aftercare. It was quite rough and I'd love to see Alastor being sweet and sorta guilty for going so roughly cause we both know...reader was bleeding after😭😭😭

Yess I love writing aftercare and when I saw this I was immediately wanting to write it ! Thank you

"Pathetic" But still a princess,

Summary: Alastor roughed you up quite badly in your last.. fornication session.. so as to make it a more happy evening he gives you some very much needed aftercare! (Part 2 to "Pathetic")

Genre: Fluff, romance, slight sexual undertones

Warnings: Swearing, blood, Alastor is kinda bipolar considering how much more soft he acts in this compared to the last part, love confessions, lmk if I missed any

NOT EDITED NOR PROOFREAD (YET)

______

Alastor carries you the entire way to his room, not wanting to rough up your brain by teleporting to his room. And oddly he sort of enjoyed the intimacy of it all. It's weird, Alastor is never really one to enjoy intimacy, but this odd time he feels nice giving you this comfort.

As he enters his room, he makes sure to lock the door behind him so no one comes in whilst he bathes you, and with a smile to you walks to his suite. The suite isn't the largest but it's big enough that when he places you on the side of the bath he can walk around you with ease.

"Alastor I think I'm bleeding," You say, looking at some scratches on your thigh as Alastor takes off his overcoat and folds it neatly. He gives you a soft look, placing his coat to the side.

"Well of course you are darling! My fawn had to learn her lesson somehow, hm?" Alastor says with a small chuckle, squatting down (his knees clicking as he does so) to turn on the water of the bath. You roll your eyes, fiddling with the fabric of your shirt as you contemplate taking it off.

"Take off your shirt, dear, it's nothing I haven't seen before," Alastor commands with a rather teasing tone, arranging the correct soap to put inside of your bath. You nod, pulling off your shirt and bra, discarding them onto the floor next to the bath. You almost cover yourself, but understand if you did Alastor would probably tell you off.

After the bath fills a bit Alastor taps the side of the bath, capturing your attention.

"You can get in now, fawn. It should be warm enough," He says, and you give him a small nod. Rather awkwardly with your pained thighs you manage to crawl yourself into the bath, Alastor does end up helping you a bit when you almost faceplant into the water, shifting you so you sit with a weirdly empathetic look for him.

"Now let's not fall on our face, shall we. I'd rather not have you more injured than you are already,"

You giggle, leaning up and squishing his cheek playfully.

"Awe you care about me, that's new," you say, and he takes your hand off of his face with a stern look.

"I wouldn't call it 'new', you just haven't seen it yet," He says, and you give him a confused look as he starts pouring some bubble soap into the bath.

"What haven't I seen?"

He laughs, shaking his head as he begins mixing in the soap with his hand.

"Me caring about you, silly doe," He chuckles, ruffling your hair with his wet hand. This causes you to shake the water off and give him an annoyed look.

"Give me an example,"

He looks up for a moment, thinking of an instance where he's shown care for you.

"Well, how about earlier today when I told you not to drink the tea because it was hot?" He asks, turning the water pressure on the hot water slightly higher. You roll your eyes, pulling your aching knees to your chest as the water around you rises.

"Oh so what, the bare minimum.. how caring of you Alastor,"

"Now don't get pissy with me, dear. I was only giving you an example of my caring for you," He chuckles, giving your nose a soft boop as he continues mixing the water. You notice his sleeve is dangerously close to the water, so you push his hand from the water slowly.

"Careful, you're gonna get your sleeves wet," You say, and Alastor smiles slightly wider.

"Don't worry about it, my dear. It's nothing I can't handle," He says, his green magic surrounding his sleeves and rolling them up to just above his elbows. "You shouldn't have to worry about something so small as my sleeves,"

Your eyes go glossy with tears at the odd affection in his voice. It's something you've never heard from him before. Sure there's the empty compliments, the empty pecks, but this is different. It's as if he loves you.

"Do you really care about me, Alastor?"

Alastor furrows his brows, turning off the hot water tap as the bath is full enough with water. He leans over, pushing his hand against your cheek as he leans there.

"Of course I do, my dear," he pauses, looking into the distance for a moment as if contemplating. "And I do apologize for being so rough with you today, you had to learn your lesson somehow,"

You giggle, pushing his hand away and leaning against the back of the bath.

"It's okay Alastor, I liked it more than I'd like to admit,"

Alastor rolls his eyes at this, grabbing a sponge from the corner of the bath.

"Charming, my fawn," He says, putting his sponge into the water and squeezing it so the soapy water fills it. He begins to scrub you with it, staring with your face as he pushes your hair from your face, holding you there by it.

"Fuck you, as if you didn't enjoy it either!"

He laughs, scrubbing your nose as you scrunch your eyes.

"Well of course I did dear, I wouldn't have initiated it if I hadn't, hm?" Alastor hums, moving to scrub your other cheek. You sputter on a cough, your eyes squinting at the way he scrubs you. He just chuckles, scrubbing your chin and jaw.

"Do you really have to clean the entirety of me?" You ask, biting your lower lip as he tilts your head back by your hair. Alastor continues to scrub your chin, moving to the other side of your jaw.

"Well of course I do, a clean fawn is a happy fawn." He says, pinching your cheek and cooing in a sort of cute fashion. Rolling your eyes you attempt to splash water at him, only for the water to be caught up in his green magic and placed back into the water.

"Now don't try anything silly, fawn,"

You moan in annoyance, hissing when his sponge begins to scrub the raw skin on your neck from the collar he had you in. The skin is bruised and even as a couple cuts from the force he used. You wonder what he thinks about when he looks at the damage. Does he find it funny? Does it feed a possessiveness in him? Does he feel guilty?

"What do you think about when you see the marks on me?" You ask out of the blue, against your better judgement.

Much to your surprise, Alastor just tilts his head in acknowledgement before speaking.

"Hm, well I feel a tad proud, and I feel a tad guilty. But, I also feel like I want to eat you up!" He answers, ending his sentence in a teasing manor. But you don't miss the slight hunger in his eyes at the thought. You narrow your eyes, speaking: "Please don't,"

"Oh I wouldn't, dear. It's just a tad fun to think about," He says with a humor in his voice, and you can't help but laugh. Alastor moves his hand from your hair, placing it on your neck as he pushes your head back with his thumb.

"Bet you'd get your rocks off to it," You chuckle, biting on your cheek uncomfortably as Alastor scrubs the back of your neck. His eyes darken slightly, tilting your head down to get better access to the back of your neck.

"Don't tempt me, fawn," He says softly, pressing the spong to your collarbone to clean the slightly bruised area. Hissing in pain you flinch away from Alastor as his sponge brushes onto a cut. He gives you a sort of stern yet understanding look, reaching out for your arm to pull you closer to him again as soft as possible.

"Sorry my dear, it's going to hurt," Alastor apologizes, setting his hand back onto your neck so he can scrub your shoulders. Once again you hiss when the sponge hits a sensitive area of raw skin, but this time you stay put.

"You know I don't think it's fair that you get to sit outside of the bath.. how are you gonna clean my legs!" You ask, Alastor just humors you with a chuckle.

"Like this,"

He spins you around gently so your legs are hanging off the edge of the bath, dripping water down to the tiled flooring below. He takes a hold of your left ankle and begins scrubbing your foot, causing you to begin giggling at the way he scrubs the ticklish area.

"Ah! That tickles..!" You laugh, clasping your damp hands over your mouth as he continues scrubbing your foot. Alastor doesn't acknowledge you, instead going to scrub down your calf.

"I still think this is unfair, what if I want to clean you!"

"I had a bath this morning, no point in bathing again," He says with an obvious tone. You roll your eyes, looking up at the roof as he continues to clean your left leg.

"Can I at least wash you another time?"

"Maybe If you continue to be steadfast in no longer entering my studio unprompted, fawn," He answers, leaning over you as he finishes your left leg, beginning to clean your stomach.

"I'm bored.." You groan, leaning your head back into the splashback of the bath. Alastor narrows his eyes, and suddenly a tentacle with another sponge appears behind you, pushing you before beginning to clean your back.

"What a needy thing you are,". He says, causing you to huff out in displeasure. To your surprise he leans over you even more, even slightly towering over you as he cleans your breasts. It makes you blush, really. Having him tower over you like this in almost a lascivious manor whilst doing the most domestic of things. He's just cleaning you, for Christ sake!

"Alastor,"

"Hm?"

You wonder. Does he love you? You want to ask it so badly. When he towers over you like this and cleans every crevice of your body does his heart clench? Does his body feel warm? Does he get those butterflies that you do? You wonder.

"Do you love me?"

He stops moving, both him and his tentacle which had started cleaning your lower back.

His eyes reflect a myriad of emotions, many of which you can't even begin to fathom. He seems almost on edge. As if your question had sent him into his brain completely.

"I.. I think I might in my own.." he pauses, placing his pointer finger against his chin in thought. "Immoral ways,"

"Immoral?"

He continues to wash you, along with the tentacle, seeming to have gotten his point across enough to continue what he was doing.

"I'm not a moral demon, dear. When I think of you I want to devour you, but, I also want to hold you,"

Devour you?

"Well, I love you Alastor.."

"I love you too, fawn. Now let's get to cleaning your hair, shall we?"

You groan, pouting in annoyance at the thought of spending another 30 minutes in this bath. Though Alastor just laughs to himself, squeezing your cheek.

"How cute you are when you're all mad at me, hm?"

You stick out your tongue at him.

Normal, well as normal as you can be, once again.