#probably get stabbed a few times
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cult-of-the-eye · 1 year ago
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GET JONATHAN SIMS A MOTHER FUCKING BAYMAX AND WATCH ALL HIS ISSUES DISAPPEAR
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running-in-the-dark · 1 year ago
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I just managed to accidentally open 33 leverage clips at the same time annnd now I know what I'll do if I ever need to give myself a panic attack on purpose!! fuck that felt bad!
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clairaworlds · 5 months ago
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Hey thank you so much for this post. I'll admit i have both eyes but I need to ware a patch over my left eye every so often because of a headace condition I have. I sort of always tilt my head but I do it SO much more when I patch my bad eye. And ive noticed I walk closer to walls one eye days and bump my hand into literly everything. I could never tell if this was a universal thing or just me. Bc I'm not *always* down an eye, just sometimes (i don't have as much trouble gauging depth but that's probably bc when I have to patch my eye I'm ushally in enough pain that I avoid doing most activities for saftey reasons so i just dont run into the problem as often) this post made me feel so much better about the little habits I have when I ware my eyepatch. Like they're normal processes other people go through and not just me being really bad at life.
Seriously, thank you.
writing advice for characters with a missing eye: dear God does losing an eyes function fuck up your neck. Ever since mine crapped out I've been slowly and unconsciously shifting towards holding my head at an angle to put the good eye closer to the center. and human necks. are not meant to accommodate that sorta thing.
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thistlerock · 2 months ago
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The Bad Kids Are Funny because they're all fairly violent and get really aggro really quickly (hey that's what you get for making a highly competent adventuring party a bunch of teenagers who don't go to therapy) but then Riz is somehow just two steps above everyone else and they barely acknowledge it. Fury of the Ball is the most wonderful thing.
The "face" of their party around school would probably be like Fig or Fabian, maybe Gorgug. Wow they're so strong aha. Hey who do you think is the most brutal, probably the half-orc barbarian who seems to mostly repress his rage until it's time to throw down right? Right?? No it's the little guy in the corner. Yeah, the one who just hid in the shadows and now you can't see him anymore. Yeah, he shot a pixie's fingers off one by one to get information, yeah, he ate a live dragon, yeah, he offered to tear someone's eye out for his best friend, yeah, he said the words "make sure his head is cut off so he can't be revivified" about another student. Yeah, he's a fucking goblin and so unapologetic about it at this point.
I always imagine his "fury" (which is a goblin trait which implies Sklonda has it too btw, never forget) being like oughhh pupils blown so wide, hair standing up, hissing claws out, kill maim stab. Just for a few seconds. You can elect to use it after hitting, I imagine him sinking his sword into a big meaty enemy and going "hm wow this guy's pretty tough. I need him dead though. Needs to die." and he twists the blade puts his whole weight in it and just drags it down no matter what's in the way. It HAS to be so gross and brutal every time and his friends are just like oh there he goes, the Ball cleaning up again.
Especially fun with the Kipperlilly thing. Oh two rogues fighting without sneak attack, that's gotta be a slow careful battle where they chip away at each other. Oh she does like seven damage rushing past him, oh he's gonna do the same wait never mind he uses his fury he stabbed her SO badly. No rogue finesse no show about it just the intent to kill. Kid with traumatic past does in fact end up fucked and it isn't actually fun or quirky or interesting, who would have thought. Shoutout to hold person over the lava that goes disgustingly hard and is also so gruesome, imagine being paralysed and watching yourself fall into a pit that will burn you alive.
The thing with classic rogues is that you're "dead before you know you're being attacked" and it's "quick and easy and possibly painless" but if Riz kills you it's gonna hurt. You're gonna know and it's gonna hurt but hey high chance you don't get to do anything about it still. Phenomenal character.
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cosmic-dust-poltergeist · 11 days ago
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Thinking about a forever teen Danny interacting with the batfam.. again lmao
[Pt 2 here]
The first time Danny interacted with a Bat was when he was squatting in what he assumed was an abandoned apartment in crime alley. Spoiler alert; it wasn't abandoned! It was, in fact, Red Hood's safe house.
Danny had been napping on the "surprisingly nice" bed, (The bed being so nice should have tipped him off, but he was so tired, damnit.) when Red Hood enters the room, startling Danny awake. They stare at each other for a minute, since neither expected to see another person there. Danny breaks the moment by diving off the bed, snatching up his backpack, and launching himself out the window he had crawled in from. Danny ignores the cussing and calling for him to wait.
Danny ain't no fool. Just because the world seems to be mostly accepting of metas and aliens, doesn't mean they're accepting of him. They haven't repealed the Ecto-Acts in the last 30 years. He refuses to be a lab rat for some shady government because a "hero" wants to "save" him. He's older than most of these fuckers in spandex, and is technically a king, so they got no authority over him.
"Kid! Come back!" Red Hood is keeping up rather well, but not well enough.
"Eat shit!" Danny shouts back before using his small size to squeeze into a space between 2 run down buildings that can't even count as an alley. Red Hood can't fit by a long shot, so he grapples to the roof, probably hoping to cut Danny off. Unfortunately for Red Hood, Danny isn't going that way or back. No, there's a secret passage entrance Danny throws himself through.
He doesn't like being down there. Too many undead roam the halls and can sense him. He's not sure how to help them and currently can't access the realms to ask Frostbite, so he just gives them some of his ectoplasum and tries to get out before their "Masters" notice him. He feels guilty every time.
But all in all, his first accidental Bat meeting was less than 10 minutes.
--
The second Bat he "meets" is the stabby new Robin. Danny figured crime alley was a bust, so he'd try one of the nicer areas to not cross paths with Red Hood. Unfortunately, the shady building he decided to sleep in the rafters of got invaded by the Bats a few days later. He's not sure who else was there, but Robin ended up in the same rafters.
They stare at each other for a minute, just taking in the other person who's not supposed to be in these rafters. Robin is clearly sneaking in to bust the owners, and Danny looks like some scruffy homeless kid that was just sleeping.
"What are you doing here?" Robin whispers with a scowl.
"I was sleeping." Danny scowls right back.
"Why are you sleeping here?"
"What does it look like? Not all of us have sugar daddies, bird boy."
Was that mean? Yes. Should he act like the 44 year old he technically is? Yeah, but he's frozen at 14. He can be a brat. No one can stop him. And also, this is the second time a Bat has woken him up from a nap, the first time was only a week ago. He's not feeling very mature.
Robin grits his teeth before his com goes off, distracting him, and Danny takes advantage of that, grabs his shit and phases through the wall into the next building.
--
The third time he meets a Bat is truly his undoing. He got stabbed in front of Nightwing during an attempted mugging. He hates the universe and totally blames Clockwork.
Danny was minding his own business when he got dragged into an alley by 3 drunk men. They're holding knives and trying their best to intimate him.
"Give us all your money."
"Do I look like I have money?" Danny snarks, waving a hand in a "look at me" way. Which, yeah, he's pulling off the homeless kid look really well with how dirty and worn out his clothes. No one in their right mind would look at him and think he has money.
"Hm. Well, if you don't have money, I can think of something else you can give us."
"Yeah, please struggle. It makes it more fun." Well, shit, Danny was not expecting to be grabbed by pedos. Danny bare gets to think about how it'll be good stress relief to break all the bones in their limbs before a tall shadowy figure drops from the roof and lands on the attacker farthest from him. The landing breaks the pedo's leg, his screamings about it are cut off by a sharp punch to the face.
When the shadowy figure straightens and is revealed to be Nightwing, pedo #2 charges him. Between how poorly it goes for him and all the puns and quips Nightwing is making, Danny can't help the giggles that slips out.
"You think this is funny, brat??" Pedo #3 shouts at him.
"Yeah. It's hilarious." Danny maliciously grins at him.
"Why you, just die, whore." And before Danny can question how HE's a whore, he's been stabbed. And it's a pretty good stab if you want to kill someone. It's a jagged downward stab, it nicks his heart and completely fucks up one of his lungs, and the guy even goes the extra step of pulling the knife out. All in all. The perfect stab to kill someone.
Unfortunately for him, Danny isn't just someone. He's already mostly dead, which means while it hurts like a bitch and it's hard to breath, it won't kill him. It does suck he coughs up some blood before he turns off his need to breathe.
Danny ignores the cussing and sounds of Nightwing breaking bones, probably panicking over just seeing "a kid get murdered". And unfortunately, no breathing means no talking in this form. So the poor guy can't be verbally told Danny's fine, and to stop freaking out. Good thing saying something isn't always needed.
Danny lets his eyes turn a glowing bright green before silently stepping to his would-be murderer.
"What?? What the fuck??" Pedo #3 screeches. Danny gives him a blood filled smile before reaching up, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the knife. He breaks the guy's arm in less than a second, before slamming him into the disgusting alley ground and proceeds to break both of his legs. The way Danny crashed the bones in these limbs means the guy is never going to have full mobility again, but Danny can't even pretend to care. The man targeted what looked like a scrawny 14 year old homeless kid to rape and murder. If anything, Danny is letting him off easy.
"K-kid? Are you okay? What am I saying? Of course not." Nightwing frets and tries to get closer, but Danny is tired of... well everything, so he just turns and books it out of the alley. Danny ignores Nightwing's frantic shouting as he twists and turns out of the man's sight long enough to pull up his invisibility without outing the power. He watches a panicked Nightwing run by before tapping into his flight and taking off to the nearest graveyard. Sitting in the ambient ectoplasum there while drinking what he has left in his thermos will speed up his healing.
He'd so leave this shithole of a city if he could. But Lady Gotham won't let him go and he's positive Clockwork is working with her to keep him there. He doesn't know what they're planning, but he hates it already.
---
After the stabbing, Nightwing and the other two must have spilled about him, because he's suddenly dodging Bats everywhere he goes. He starts developing even worse paranoia because they just won't take a hint.
Talking was a no go at first with his healing lung, but running away, swiping claws, biting, and throwing shit at them aren't exactly subtly "Leave Me The Fuck Alone!!" vibes. Once his lung is healed, you can add in cussing, hissing, spitting, and verbally telling them to fuck off. None of it works. It fact, Danny thinks they like the challenge, which is annoying, but slowly becoming amusing.
Though, even just the idea of him starting to enjoy something means the universe has to throw a curve ball. And this one takes the form of a scarecrow attack.
So admittedly, Danny had no idea what fear toxin would do to him, but Joker's toxins didn't do anything to him, so he thought it'd be the same shit. That was a stupid mistake on his part.
He didn't bother holding his breath when helping the Panicked Bats get civilians out of the attack radius. Any mask that was given to him was given to a civilian before he passed them off to someone with an antidote.
But to be fair, the effects of his mistake doesn't hit him til after the fight is over and the civilians are taken care of. It starts with his paranoia raising. He's suddenly eyeing the people and buildings around him. He can FEEL his parents' gaze on him, even though he knows that's impossible, they died because the portal finally blew up and took them and half the town with it. No one who died as humans from it became ghosts, and the people who were already ghosts died a second time. The only reason Danny and Tucker weren't there was because they were gift shopping for Jazz on the other side of town while Sam distracted her. It was one of the worst days of his life. It's tied with the day his parents vivisecting his ghost half and the day the GIW vivisected Vlad and him, and Vlad just straight up died from it in front of him.
That's relevant because Danny starts hallucinating a half melted Sam and Jazz (there were no bodies left behind, but his brain likes to torment him), he can't understand what they're trying to say to him, but there's the unmistakable sound of an ectoblaster echoing in his ear behind him and he... just bolts. The agents that vivisected him launch themselves at him (he doesn't process the "agents" look exactly the same as when he last saw them 24 years ago), but Danny is determined to NEVER be caught again.
He freezes when melted versions of his parents, wearing maniac grins and holding sparking weapons, cut him off. The moment they so much as twitch towards him, he bolts straight through a building using his intangibility.
A tiny part of his brain is trying to reason with him. There's no way anything he's seeing is real. This is what fear toxin is known to do. Stop and evaluate the situation!
But it's drownt out by the fear. And, ancients, is there a lot of fear. It suffocates his logical thoughts and makes him forget how to properly use his powers to escape.
He finds out later, it took the Bats 2 hours to get close enough to give him the antidote and another hour for it to kick in. They honestly thought it didn't work at first, because just like the toxin, the antidote took it's sweet time to work on him.
He crashed out hard once it did, though. Like, he fell unconscious and stopped breathing. It terrified the Bats and took them a minute to realize he's not actually dead. Well, full dead.
He finds out eventually that they originally thought he was a meta, but after all the weirdness he accidentally showed during the cat and mouse chase, they started to wonder if he was an alien. But the whole fear toxin incident convince them he escaped from some shady organization that experimented on him (not untrue) and killed his family. There's still a bet on if he's an alien or not, and that being why he was targeted.
Which is a fair conclusion, between his powers that seemingly make no sense and all his scars from fighting and being experimented on by both his parents And a shady government agency. It's especially fair after he has a major freak out coming to in the Batcave's med bay. The smells and medical equipment setting him off into a massive panic attack that leaves him behaving like a feral cat. He manages to squeeze himself into the small space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling and growls at anyone so much as peeking into the room.
"Hey, kid. You're alright. You're safe." Nightwing tries and gets hissed at. He'd been trying for about 10 minutes to get him to come down. "Um, guys, maybe someone else should try. This isn't working. I don't think he likes me at all."
Black Bat steps into the room at his plea and waves Nightwing away. Once he's out of the room, she drops to the floor. The move confuses Danny enough to stop growling at her. He stares wide-eyed at her as she just lays full starfish on the floor.
"What are you doing?" He finally asks after 3 full minutes of silently staring at her.
"Laying."
"I see that, but why?"
"You're scared. I'm showing I'm not a threat." Black Bat sounds amused, but not malicious. Danny stares at her for another 2 minutes without blinking once.
"Why am I here?"
"You're scared. We want to help." She makes it sound simple.
"You can't." Danny lets bitterness leak into his voice.
"Why?"
"I'm not human anymore. You can't "help" me."
"I think we can." Danny starts growling again, so she adds. "We have beds and food and can keep whoever is hunting you away."
He pauses his growling again. "You don't even know who I am."
"You're sad, and hurt, and help others before yourself. You're good." Danny frowns at that.
"You're weird." He states before climbing down and sitting near her. She doesn't move a muscle. "You can't help me without getting in trouble with the government."
"Hm?"
"Yeah, I'm not considered a person because of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Anything that uses or needs ectoplasum to survive is considered non-sentient and is to be turned over for experimentation and termination. And anyone caught helping us can be arrested for treason." Danny explains. "I barely escaped when I got caught. My godfather didn't. I hated him. He was mean, controlling, and creepy, but I didn't want him to die."
"I'm sorry."
"My problems are not your problems."
"I disagree." Danny blinks at her, his gaze sharpening when she starts moving her arm farthest from him. She moves slowly, reaching up and hooking her fingers under her mask.
"Wait!" Danny leans forward a hair as if he was about to physically grab her hand to stop her, but jerks himself back. He sounds small when he speaks again. "Are-are you sure?"
"Yes."
"Why??"
"Trust you."
"But WHY? You don't know me."
"I know enough." Is all she says before pulling her mask off. He slams his eyes shut and claps his hands over them for good measure.
"No, you don't!!" He hears her move, sitting up, before gentle hands pull his hands away.
"Yes, I do." She says sweetly. "Look."
Danny peeks at her. She has a bittersweet look on her face that brightens when she sees Danny looking. She's still gently holding his hands, loose enough he can pull away if he truly wants to.
"I'm not as young as I look." She tilts her head at the seemingly random comment. "I'm not actually 14. Not anymore. I'm stuck at when I died."
He hears her, and their eavesdroppers, gasp. It's the first time he's talked about it. But something tells him to tell her (them, if he's acknowledging the eavesdropping Bats).
"My parents were mad scientists that wouldn't be out of place in your rouges gallery." He stares at his and Black Bat's hands. "They were obsessed with ghosts and made a portal to the infinite realm, where "ghosts" live. They failed twice. Once in college, my godfather was hospitalized from the attempt, and the second time they failed, I accidentally turned it while being stupid with friends and died. They didn't notice, too happy their portal was suddenly working... That was 30 years ago."
There's a choking noise from the eavesdroppers.
"If I stay, you're going to be stuck with a freaky kid that doesn't age and can't be killed by the usual methods and has so much PTSD, like a ridiculous amount of PTSD. Are you sure you want to deal with that?"
"Yes." Black Bat doesn't even hesitate. Danny nearly gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks up at her face. "Can't scare us away."
"It should. I don't even count as human."
"So?"
""So"???"
"Yes. Why should I care?"
"Why should-??? Why wouldn't you???"
"Kid." An unmasked Red Hood stands in the doorway. "This family is full of freaks and mental illness. You'll fit right in."
The statement strikes a nerve, overwhelming him, but Danny doesn't understand what's happening at first, why his lips are trembling, his face feels warm, and his eyes sting. He hasn't felt this sensation in years. But whatever look on his face makes the infamous Red Hood panic.
"Wait! Kid! Don't cry!"
It suddenly clicks with Danny. He's about to cry. But understanding what is happening, doesn't stop it from happening. Fat tears start sliding down his face.
"Dickie! What do I do?? I accidentally made him cry!! You're better wi-" Red Hood cuts himself off when Danny starts laughing. Laughing at how panicked a crimelord is at tears. Laughing at crying. Laughing at the whole absurd situation.
"It's okay." Black Bat says softly. Whether it's to Danny or the panicky Bat is lost to Danny. But no one says anything else til Danny's tears stop and laughter dies down.
"I was Phantom, ya know?" And he hears several people choke. After he was forcibly retired, this ghost half became known as "The First Hero" in a lot of circles. The GIW repressed the fact he was a ghost when people outside of Amity Park found out about the child hero, they didn't want the public angry with them for making him disappear. It didn't work, Tucker leaked everything he could find. Danny doesn't blame him for that. Tucker thinks he's completely dead since the GIW didn't want to admit they lost him and declared him to have Ended in those files. Danny hasn't told him he's "alive" either. Danny can't bring himself to drag Tucker back into the mess that is his life, can't bring himself to contact the man who has made something of his life, has a partner and kids, has mourned and moved on. He just can't do it. "But before I was Phantom, I was Danny Fenton. But now... I'm just Danny."
"Welcome to the family, Danny!" An unmasked Nightwing cheers.
"I thought Phantom had white hair?" Someone says just outside the room. Danny mischievously leans towards Black Bat.
"Close your eyes. This is going to be bright." He whispers. She smiles gamely and closes her eyes. He gets to hear the others yelp when he lets his transformation take over, essentially flashbanging everyone, but Black Bat.
"Wha..?"
"Hair white enough for you?" Danny says, grinning with too many teeth, that are a little too sharp. Black Bat pats the hand she's still holding.
"Pretty." She smiles delighted at him and he feels his face flush bright green.
"Oh! Um.. Thanks?" He takes a deep breath and realizes something. "Now you know my name, so who the hell are all of you?"
"You don't recognize us?"
"No. Am I supposed to?"
"Eh, most people do." Nightwing shrugs.
"Well, I haven't been able to keep up with much in the public zeitgeist. I just periodically check if it's still legal to kill me. Sadly, the answer is "yes" every time, so meh."
"We'll be taking care of that." Red Robin informs him while stepping into the room and frantically typing on a tablet. "I can't believe these stupid things still exist. The Green Lanterns and Justice League Dark are going to have the biggest fit when they see these. The rest of the JL will help dismantle these too. I'll personally get them to destroy these vile laws."
"Oh.. Thanks, I guess. It'll be nice to not be hunted anymore."
"I imagine."
"Okay! Introductions!" Nightwing gets them all back on topic. "I'm Dick Grayson! Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne."
"Tim Drake."
"Cassandra Cain. But call me Cass."
"Jason Todd."
"Wait, wait, wait. I recognize your name! Didn't you- oh, wait, that's insensitive..."
"It's fine. I did, in fact, die, but I got better. We can start a club of undead. We can invite Spoiler. She technically died, too."
"Literally everyone here, besides me has died, Jason." Tim says, not looking away from the tablet.
"Yeah, but Steph is the only one I'd invite. She knows how to have fun."
"Little wing!" Dick whines.
"Timber can be an honorary member, since he's dead inside, a fun chaos gremlin, and ain't a narc."
"Thanks." Tim says dryly while Dick dramatically cries. Cass giggles.
And Danny? He's tired of running. He wants to be able to be the child he's stuck as while getting respect over his knowledge. He wants to be a vigilante and help people again. He wants to finally have a safe place to sleep.
So he decides to give these weirdos a chance.
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kaidatheghostdragon · 11 months ago
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Found this while going through my fanfic files, and i absolutely had to share.
Danny: i want in
Red robin: …what?
Danny: your bat family. I want in.
Red robin, blinking in surprise: i dont know what you think you know about my associates, but we're not-
Danny: dont be obtuse. I know youre the smart one. And i also know that your all one big relatively happy family. I want in.
Red robin: …why?
Danny: because you guys are the first people ive found that are wealthy, intelligent and powerful enough to take on my fruitloop godfather and win AND are decent enough human beings that i can be assured that when all is said and done, my well-being will remain a top priority.
Orphan, appearing out of nowhere: new brother!
Danny: *stares in shock*
Danny: *sudden uncanny grin* well that's one convinced. How do i win over the rest?
Orphan: no need. New brother!
Red robin: *pointed glance of betrayal* fine. Who is your godfather?
Danny: vlad masters. He's a fruitloop.
Red robin: for real? B's been investigating him for years! Tell me everything! *genuinely excited for a new lead*
Danny: well, he's tried to murder my dad and marry my mom, gained his wealth illegally, committed voting fraud to become the mayor of my hometown, has a secret underground lab where he does unethical experiments, and he's abducted me more than a dozen times even before my parents disowned me to make me his evil apprentice or whatever. Now that im homeless, he's literally out to get me. Oh! And he's cloned me too! She's cool though, we're buddies now.
Batman, who just arrived but heard everything over comms: hn. (Translation: who are you?)
Danny: my name is Danny. No last name anymore, but im hoping itll soon be Wayne! *winking suggestively*
Batman: hn? (how much do you know?)
Danny: enough to know that youre a much better alternative to vlad.
Batman: …hn (i dont know anything about you. What if youre a spy for vlad?)
Danny, giving his salesman pitch: i was a teen vigilante in amity park before i had to run away from home for my own safety. Vlad is one of my rogues. I know how to fight and defend myself, how to minimize collateral damage in a fight, and ive gotten really good and escaping kidnapping attempts. Ive also managed to reform and/or make allies out of approximately half of my rogues and can talk down about 30% of all rogue confrontations before they turn into a messy fight. The other things i can bring to the table are: one, i can teach all of you guys proper liminality self care; two, i can probably minimize and possibly cure red hood's anger issues; three, i can get along with stabby robin because i consider fighting a friendly social interaction - he can even stab me and i wont be injured by it; four, i can be your go-to guy for supernatural cases so you no longer have to deal with that sad trenchcoat man; five-
Red robin: *blurting* youre hired.
Batman: hn (i am deeply concerned)
Danny: if youre concerned now, wait until i tell you about the anti ecto control act
Nightwing, who showed up in the middle of the sales pitch: ive never seen anyone crack B's grunt language so quickly
Danny: grunt language? He's just using ghost speak - which will be covered by the liminality self care lessons
Robin, who arrived with batman: what is a liminal?
Danny: all of you, of course! Otherwise you wouldnt need to learn about it, obviously
Robin: and why would we trust you?
Danny: did i mention i have a pet ghost dog?
Robin: …you drive a hard bargain
Danny, fist pumping: yes! That's three!
Nightwing: four, you got me when you could understand B's grunting
Red Hood, arrived with nightwing: five, assuming you arent lying about the pit rage
Danny, hand to his chest: i would never!
Orphan: honesty. Earnest. New brother.
Oracle, over comms: six. The anti ecto acts are legit and im terrified for his safety, assuming he's phantom, who is the vigilante of amity park
Spoiler, arrived with orphan: seven, as long as youre down for a few pranks
Batman: hn (ive been outvoted)
Batman: hnn (i dont wanna hear any jokes about adoption habits when you all forced my hand)
Batman: hn (that said)
Batman: welcome to the family
Duke, the next day: man, i miss out on everything exciting.
Duke, blinded by danny: and who the fuck told bruce he could adopt the fucking sun?!
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channiesbakery · 3 months ago
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yapper —
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
prompt / request — "are you awake yet?" "no." "oh, okay sorry."
pairing — reader + boyfriend!dino
word count — 561
genre — fluff
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you and chan have a nightly routine that you liked to follow. you’d get ready for bed, freshening up and changing into comfy clothes before crawling into bed together.
you’d both have your nightly tik tok scroll— well, you’d scroll on your phone while chan watched along with you, questioning you about a current trend every few videos.
“what do you mean peeling an orange is a sign of love?” he questions when he sees the videos of people asking their significant others to peel oranges for them.
you explain the trend for him before he somewhat seems to understand. “I’d peel a hundred oranges for you,” chan says, kissing the top of your head before he’s silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought.
“you okay?” you turn back to face him. “i wonder if my hyungs would peel an orange for me…” he mumbled mostly to himself.
it’s not long before you end up on seventeen tik tok, seeing all the edits and fancams.
“aw look at kwannie,” you show him the cute fancam. “why are you, my girlfriend, watching a seungkwan fancam and not one of your boyfriend?” chan scoffs before grabbing your phone to look for fancams of himself, making sure to give all of them likes.
after ending up on a weird side of tik tok, you decide that’s enough social media for the night, shutting off your phone and turning off all the lights.
chan’s chest is pressed against your back, his arm loosely around your waist as he rests his chin on the top of your head.
you always knew your boyfriend was a bit of a yapper, but his need for conversation just seemed to increase every time you’re about to fall asleep.
“do you think i should create a new character for the next gose episode?” he asks. “baby, i think you have more than enough alter egos.” you tell him, shutting your eyes and trying to fall asleep.
but the silence doesn’t last long before he’s starting another topic.
“would you love me if i was a worm– i could probably do the worm so much better if i was actually a worm.”
“that new cafe just opened in the city, we should go this weekend. i heard their matcha lattes are amazing.”
“do you think i should start a new hobby? maybe knitting… shua has all his crafty hobbies, maybe knitting could be mine.”
“actually… it seems like it takes too much patience and what if i stab my eye…”
“do you ever wonder why people count sheep and not other animals? like why not count chickens?”
you only mumble short responses to him as he switches topics nearly every other sentence.
he finally goes silent and you’re just about to finally drift off to sleep when chan speaks up once again. “are you still awake?” he whispers.
“no,” you grumble tiredly. “oh okay,” he replies and you think he’s finally going to go to sleep until you hear his soft voice again.
“hey baby?” he says softly and you just hum in response. “i love you,” chan mumbles against your hair.
“i love you too channie, but if you don’t stop yapping I’m kicking you out of bed and you’re sleeping on the couch.” you threaten.
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theshelteredbrat · 3 months ago
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hey notes thingy
I need motivation or I fear i might not make it to summer
No limits except the comment section must be full sentences, no random keyboard smash, numbers, or emoji.
15- Ill ask my crush out to the dance (its in a week)
30-Ill start drinking water more
50-Ill try to eat healthier
70-Ill come out to a few people as Nonbinary
100-Ill start using Charlie in school
125-Ill try to go to bed earlier
150-Ill attempt to talk to a close friend about my mental health
200-(this will probably be as far as it gets.) I'll work on my art
250-Ill write a whole page on one of my wip stories
300-Ill plant little wildflowers and watch them grow! Hopefully they'll bring me some joy
350-Ill go beyond basic exercise and actually do what's good for my body.
400-Ill have a contest with myself to see how long I can go without trying to be closer to death. (Walking as close to the cars as possible, stabbing myself with safety pins, etc)
500-Ill try to find a trusted adult to ask about my mental health
600-Ultimate sign to sit down and study French
650-Ill learn a new song on my violin
700-Ill try to secretly buy a chest binder
800-Ill try to secretly buy a cheap phone
850-Ill start saving up money to move out as soon as I graduate
900-Ill throw away some self harm tools
950-Ill talk with a trusted adult about my suicidal thoughts
1000-Ill talk to my parents about my mental health and hopefully getting some help
No pressure, it js didn't work last time and I don't have a will to live so haha. Knock yourselves out
THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH, YOU GUYS HAVE NO IDEA HOW MUCH THIS MEANS TO ME. I MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO DO THESE ALL RIGHT AWAY BUT ILL TRY, I PROMISE. TYSM.
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gutsby · 11 months ago
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Watch Your Mouth
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Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader
Summary: Joel teaches you to keep quiet during sex.
Warnings: 18+. Unprotected p-in-v. Silence kink. Size kink. Breeding kink. Age gap. Joel is a lot more experienced (!) Finger sucking. Orgasm denial. Soft dom!Joel x10000.
Word count: 1.9k
Prequel | Part 1 | Part 2
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Maybe a hand was too much.
A kiss to stifle your cries, a tongue between your lips to steal any trace of a whimper before it could ever leave. Joel knew by the way your wet, pliant hole stretched wider and wider for him with each thrust that you’d eventually quiet down—but he needed silence now.
And he’d get it when he clamped his palm over your mouth. At first, your brows lifted with surprise, then pinched inward like you didn’t understand, then twitched again, involuntarily, when the head of his cock cleared a path straight toward your cervix. You whimpered into his hand and made a point to dig your heels even deeper in his back. Joel had promised he’d be better about that.
“‘M’sorry,” he mumbled.
Another stab. Another whimper, only louder this time.
“Sorry, baby, I’m—” Joel stopped to fight back a groan of his own, before pressing his palm down with even more force, “—sorry, jus’ need ya real quiet right now, okay?”
You tried to nod, but the weight and stricture of his grip were as heavy as lead against your face. Add to that the soft, sawing motions of his cock going in and out of your cunt and the nudge of his oversized tip at your cervix, and it was all you could do to just lay there and take it. Joel knew this was brand new to you—he’d been your first not too long ago and the only partner since—so he eased back and lifted his hand when you gave it a tug.
Grey stubble was already licking at the corners of your mouth with Joel’s minuscule kisses of reassurance when you giggled and squeezed him tighter between your legs:
“I’m tryin’, Joel. Really, I am,” you whispered.
“I know, sweet pea,” he whispered back, “I know.”
He took the palm he’d used to stifle your moans and smoothed it over your cheek, coming to rest at one side so he could kiss you fully. Maybe a hand was too much.
He’d inculcate restraint some other way, and if it didn’t come easy, a few more fucks on the forest floor like this one would probably do the trick. Your mouth opened up for his tongue just like your cunt would open up for more of his cum and the rest of your body would surely follow suit, learning to control the noises of pleasure as needed.
“Good girl,” Joel murmured against your lips, feeling you clench around him and expel a breath rather than whine. He withdrew himself to the tip, then plunged back in, “Such a good, perfect girl for me, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”
At length, you yelped into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. Rather than reprimand you with words or smother your lips with his palm, though, Joel kept fucking you gently.
“‘S’okay, pretty girl, it’s okay. I know that feels good.”
His mouth was next to your ear now, praises audible to no one else but you. It added a whole new dimension to your pleasure; Joel could tell from the way your walls constricted around him and choked him, sucked him in. The feeling nearly elicited a groan from his chest, but of course, he had all the resolve of a seasoned professional. Decades and decades of practice had done that for him.
“Joel,” you mewled.
Your face was screwed up in a grimace, eyes likely to be brimming with tears any second now. Joel slowed his pace once more, felt a pang of guilt for how big he felt inside you—how those decades and decades of practice set you drastically apart from each other in experience—and this time, he didn’t try to muffle your whines. He just stroked the top of your cheek with one thumb, and with the other, snaked a path between your body and his.
Admittedly, Joel was still learning about yours. He wasn’t sure if the whimpers you’d made were born wholly of pleasure or just a sense of being stretched out and filled. Because you yourself were still learning to be vocal, Joel figured he’d give the latter a stab. He started thumbing your clit in an attempt to alleviate some of the pressure.
It worked, and it didn’t.
Your walls parted easily beneath the quiet ministrations of his thumb, opening yourself more to Joel’s thrusts, but they also tore a scream out of your throat—the kind that was liable to stir the leaves on every tree and alert any clicker within a two-mile radius to your presence.
The kind of outcome Joel had been trying to prevent when he’d brought you on patrol with him in the first place. The kind of sound he was trying to fuck out of your body completely; teach you to keep quiet and still for when the two of you inevitably got bored during perimeter watch and rolled the sleeping bag out to fuck.
Joel tensed above you and cast a quick look around. Sure, he’d picked a decently safe spot, but then you—
“Joel, I—”
Without thinking, the man stopped and stuck the first thing he could possibly fit in your mouth: his thumb. Whatever you’d been trying to say to him was promptly lost in a hum against his knuckle, lips enveloping the thick, callused digit like some tangy-flavored lolly. Joel’s hips sank back into yours, slowly, and he felt the reverberations of another moan spill over his finger.
He swallowed and stared. That shouldn’t have been nearly as sexy as you’d just made it seem, especially when your life and his hung in such a precarious position.
Joel dragged his cock back out and happened to graze a sensitive, spongy ridge inside you, which made you moan again. You hollowed your cheeks and gritted your teeth a bit more against his thumb, gripping Joel’s forearm for support as he continued to fuck you.
And, had you stayed like that a moment longer, you probably would’ve seen a shiny string of drool start to pool and stretch and fall out from one side of his mouth. Instead, Joel switched hands and popped the thumb that had been toying with your clit into your mouth, eyes glazed over with desire as they drank in the sight of you sucking his thumb again. The tip was still soaked with your warmth and slipped easily past your parted lips.
Another sound bubbled up your throat when you got a taste—Joel had always been in the habit of kissing you after eating you out, so you were well-acquainted with the flavor, but never had he fed you your own arousal on his finger. This felt obscene, something more than just pornographic as those deep, brown, lust-addled irises remained glued to where your lips closed around him.
“Y’like that, huh?” he said, voice reduced to a whisper once more while you nipped and suckled at the skin.
You bobbed your head to indicate yes, opened your mouth to tell him softly that you liked it so much—loved the taste and grit of his finger on your tongue, in fact. You wanted to show him you could be vocal, too, when Joel’s frame rose over yours a little more and seemed to blanket it entirely. Like he wanted to shield you, in a way.
“Shhhh, shhh…keep suckin’ like that. Stay still, okay?” Joel murmured, and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to work out that this was a test. He was nodding, rutting gently between your legs, wedging his thumb deeper inside the wet, velvety contours of your mouth and waiting for a look from you to say that you understood.
You weren’t sure if you did, but you nodded anyway. Joel’s thumb made a wonderful sort of makeshift gag as he continued to thrust inside of you, his body somehow lowering to get even closer to yours. When he’d gotten sufficiently near, he pressed a kiss to the side of your mouth—now stuffed with his thumb and leaking spit—and muttered something about how good you were for him, how nicely you fit around his cock. Then he tilted his hips and proceeded to pound you into the ground like an animal in heat. The only thing separating your ass from the patch of grass underneath it was a flimsy little blanket, and the only thing tethering you to earth, it seemed, was Joel’s cock. Your ankles locked behind his back, and his nose settled next to yours, breathing hard.
Even if he knew how to suppress his moans, the panting and strangled gasps were far beyond Joel’s control—as were the filthy, perverse words pouring out of his mouth.
“‘S’all mine, ain’t she, hon? Tell me this pussy’s mine.”
“Tell me she’s mine to fuck, stuff full’a cum, right here.”
And he gestured to the spot where your body stopped and his began, squelching noises punctuating each new thrust. Neither one of you minded the sound right now, especially when you knew where this was headed next.
Joel was grinning against your skin before he kissed it.
“She wants a baby, doesn’t she, honey? Wants me to put a baby in her and make that belly swell up pretty?”
You knew just as well as Joel that neither of you wanted children in a world like this—thoughts of breeding only occurred to you both when you were about to cum. Particularly when Joel’s thumb was slipping out of your mouth and his fingers were pinching either side of your face in a single grip, lips moving above yours. Making you meet his gaze as he squeezed your cheeks in a pout.
“You want my babies, baby?” Joel mumbled.
You felt a familiar twitch in his cock. You nodded.
Joel pinched harder and shook his head, unsatisfied.
“Say, ‘I want your babies, Joel.’”
“I want your babies, Joel.”
“Say, ‘I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me.’”
“I’ll be nice and quiet if you cum inside me, please, Joel.”
Your voice was already hoarse from how low you had to whisper, how hard Joel’s broad and hefty stomach was pressing into your own, stealing the breath from your lungs and wreaking havoc on your brain as you struggled for air and imagined a world where your tummy was a little rounder. Plugged up with his cum one day and growing bigger with his child there inside you the next. The thought was dizzying in the abstract, enticing to the slightest degree in reality, and if you had to guess from the expression of the man currently sweating, grunting, and rutting into your body, you’d bet he felt the same.
It really was a shame you had to stay so quiet.
But, whether a clicker was five miles away or standing directly over his shoulder, Joel didn’t seem to care at all. Soft, silent reserve cast aside for the time being and hips slamming a bruising pace against your own, Joel seemed fine to let out sounds to show he was right about to cum. Grunts and whimpers were spilling left and right off his filthy, pretty tongue; his eyes were all but rolling back.
Truly, he couldn’t look more magnificent if he tried.
“Fuck, baby, I’m— I’m so close. Gonna fill you up.”
Featherlight clusters of soft grey hair were now darkened with sweat. They rested comfortably across his forehead. Under them, two thick brows furrowed in concentration.
“Gonna knock you up,” he added through gritted teeth.
That part was not a threat, but a promise.
You felt a tug and a pinch in your own stomach, signaling your oncoming release. You spread your legs wider for Joel, pressed a kiss to his jaw when he leaned in closer, made room for him to spill his load just how he wanted, and when it seemed he was a second from his peak—
A twig snapped nearby.
Both of you froze in place.
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gold-onthe-inside · 4 months ago
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Request (slightly nsfw): Spencer comes into work and doesn’t info dump in the briefing. The team questions him and turns out he cut his tongue on his gf’s piercing.
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tongue-tied
who? spencer reid x bau!reader (no use of y/n, called cupcake by morgan) content warnings: a little making out and a little foreplay, doesn't really get past that word count: 1.6k songs: say when by the fray a/n: i really struggled balacing the line between banter and bullying for derek and spencer, but consider it early seasons where derek doesn't know where to draw the line <3
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They weren't even supposed to be working today, but it's not like crises come scheduled, and who was to blame Spencer for starting his Saturday morning with a little enthusiasm?
He liked taking his time with his girlfriend (a fact that still felt unreal to him, the word itself felt so strange in his mouth), kissing every inch of her. She was like poetry. Everything about her drew Spencer to her. He took her all in - every breath, every movement, the way she arched up into him. His girlfriend. He still wasn’t entirely used to the concept, but that was what he enjoyed about this slow Saturday morning. He had time to memorise every inch, his fingers gently tracing over her skin.
His mouth trailed up to her ear, feeling her shiver, and then a jolt of pain stabbed through his tongue, catching on the back of her piercing. He let out a slight hiss, drawing back. “Ah…” Spencer’s hand lifted, gently dabbing at his tongue, the pain spreading across his mouth.
"What happened?" you asked, looking at him, concerned, tucking strands of hair behind your ear.
“Your earrings…” Spencer ran his tongue over the roof of his mouth, his face twisting at the lingering sting.
You tutted, sitting up. "Show me."
Spencer obeyed, opening his mouth and sticking out his tongue to show her. A small bead of blood pooled in the centre, a testament to the tiny yet rather painful wound.
"Hold on, I probably have some glycerin somewhere," you said, shifting off his lap and towards her wardrobe, rummaging through a drawer.
Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow at her, slightly amused despite his uncomfortable injury. “What kind of person just has glycerin laying around?”
"The kind who eats pizza too quickly when it's hot," you replied, returning with a small bottle and a cotton bud. "Open up."
Spencer’s mouth curled up in a smile, which was quickly interrupted by a brief wince as she used the soaked cotton bud to apply the glycerin. “Well, at least it’ll taste good this way…” he teased, poking his tongue back out.
You chuckled as you dabbed at the cut, and their phones rang simultaneously, making your shoulders sag.  "With that kind of unity, it must be Hotch."
Spencer grumbled slightly, reluctantly leaving the bed to reach for his phone on the nightstand. “I was hoping for a quiet Saturday…” he mumbled, lifting his phone. Sure enough, Hotch’s name was on the caller ID.
"Ha, no such thing," you scoffed, grabbing your own phone and answering JJ as you grabbed an outfit from your closet.
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Talking hurts. In fact, everything that hits his tongue sends a sliver of sharp pain, and so he's uncharacteristically short with everyone, which raises more than a few eyebrows in the briefing.
"No statistic on that to bring up?" Emily asked, her smile teasing and even Derek's got a laugh that he's masking.
"Didn't seem relevant," he said quickly, withholding a wince, and it was like you could sense the danger of getting caught when you brought up a question to Rossi to bring attention back to the case. If only that had gotten the them off his back.
Derek cornered him in the kitchenette, smirking as he sauntered over. "What was that in there? Cat got your tongue?"
On another day, he would have launched into a story of how the phrase originated from the cat o' nine tails, and so saying it meant that you had been flogged into submission, or from the Middle Ages where it was believed that witches would allegedly steal tongues and it transferred onto the black cats that accompanied them as familiars, or that ancient Egyptians who worshipped cats would punish liars and blasphemers by feeding their tongues to cats. Instead, all he said was, "Just didn't feel like it," and continued stirring his coffee.
Derek immediately noticed the lack of a long-winded, completely off-topic, but fascinating rant. And that caught his attention. It was even more suspicious when he couldn’t even look him in the eye, instead keeping his gaze firmly on the coffee maker.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Derek pressed, moving so that he was standing just behind Reid. Derek knew from experience that, if you wanted to prevent him from making a run for it, you had to block his path before he thought to try and escape.
"This kind of behaviour is exactly what gets you in trouble with HR," Spencer pointed out, then winced, his tongue flaring with pain.
Derek’s eyes narrowed as he observed Reid’s face, noting the subtle wince. Something was definitely up. “What’s wrong with your mouth?” he asked bluntly, his eyes now drifting over his face as if they would somehow be able to glean some sort of answer from his expression.
"Nothing," he replied, his voice hitting a higher pitch, a flush colouring his cheeks.
He’s lying. “Bullshit,” Derek said bluntly, his arms folded. “Every time you open your mouth, you wince. So just tell me. What happened?”
"I just burnt my tongue, that's all," he mumbled, hoping Derek would leave it.
Derek’s eyebrows lifted in disbelief. It seemed like a flimsy explanation, and he wasn’t going to let this go. Spencer was hiding something. “You burnt your tongue? How?”
"O-On coffee, I forgot it was hot," he said. God, he should be better at lying than this.
Derek’s frown deepened at his answer. “And you’re sure that’s it? No other reason why your tongue would hurt when you talk?”
"What other reason would there be?" Spencer asked, sipping stale coffee.
Now they were getting somewhere. Derek couldn’t help but notice that his cheeks had turned a light shade of pink. “That’s what I’m asking you, pretty boy,” Derek said, folding his arms across his chest.
"What's it matter to you anyway?" Spencer asked, trying to make his escape.
Derek moved to block his path once again, his eyes watching his friend closely. Something wasn’t right here. “It matters because you’re hurt,” Derek pointed out. “So, just be honest and tell me the truth. What really happened to your tongue?”
Spencer groaned. "I... cut it this morning..." he said, halting and hesitating.
Derek’s eyes narrowed once again at his words, instantly sceptical of his answer. “You cut your tongue?” he repeated, his tone clearly indicating that he didn’t believe him. “And how exactly did you do that?”
"Morgan," he pleaded, protesting.
Derek’s eyes remained locked, searching Spencer’s face for any hint of dishonesty or a lie. “I want the truth, Reid. How did you cut your tongue?”
Spencer's entire neck had become flushed now. "On a piercing," he muttered quietly.
Ah. Derek’s eyes grew a fraction wider, his arms now dropping to his sides as everything clicked into place. That’s why he’d been trying to avoid talking this whole time. “A piercing…” he repeated, a smirk beginning to edge onto his face. “Specifically, whose piercing?”
"Does it matter?" Spencer asked, trying to escape him again and Derek blocked him too easily.
Derek’s smirk widened as he watched Reid begin to squirm under his gaze, and it was clear that he had hit the target.
“Yeah, it does. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be so reluctant to tell me, pretty boy.” A thought suddenly occurred to him, and Derek’s smirk curled into a grin as he studied Spencer for a long, calculated moment. “Wait a goddamn minute. Is this Cupcake's doing?”
"No!" he squeaked.
Derek’s grin widened at his reaction, which immediately told him that he was correct. Bingo. “Oh god, it is…” he said, his tone a mixture of delight and disbelief. “It was her piercing, wasn’t it?”
"What! I never said that!" Spencer cried and his obvious fluster told Derek all he needed to know - he’d hit the mark.
“You didn’t have to say it. You just confirmed it,” Derek drawled. “You can’t hide anything from me, pretty boy. And that means you were with her this morning -” He leaned in, his grin widening a fraction more. “- weren’t you?”
"I- You can't prove anything!"
“Oh, this is priceless…” Derek was clearly enjoying this, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he watched Spencer begin to panic.  “So, let me get this right: you were with your girlfriend this morning - on your day off - and, somewhere along the line, you cut your tongue on her earrings.”
"You don't know it's her," Spencer tried to bluff.
“Dude, you’re blushing like a schoolboy,” Derek pointed. “And you’re being so damn defensive. Put two and two together, genius. I’m not judging, Reid, just wondering - how exactly did you slice your tongue on her earring, anyway?”
"How do you think?" Spencer muttered.
Derek smirked, his eyebrows lifting. “You’re telling me that you were making out with your new girlfriend, and you accidentally cut your tongue on her piercings?”
"I'm not telling you anything!"
Derek’s smirk just grew wider, as he could practically see the thoughts swirling through Spencer’s mind. He absolutely loved getting to him like this. “You could have just told me that it was from making out with your girlfriend, pretty boy. I’m not gonna make fun of you for that. Although, I’m impressed that you somehow managed to cut your tongue in the process…”
Spencer groaned, lowering his head in shame.
Derek chuckled in delight, thoroughly enjoying watching Spencer getting all worked up.
“Hey, don’t worry about it, man,” he said, a wide grin on his face. “As long as it was a good time, a few marks here and there are worth it.”
"Can I go now?" Spencer asked, mortified.
“Yeah yeah, alright,” Derek said, still chuckling to himself as he backed off, allowing Spencer to leave. “Have fun with your girlfriend,” he teased, his tone laced with playful innuendo, watching Spencer scurry off back to his desk.
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oblique-lane · 6 months ago
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Spy tf2 and his identity
Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)
What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.
At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?
What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?
For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?
While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?
Let's start from the beginning.
Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?
Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.
The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.
Well, probably because he really does not.
Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.
At least, not those who were born into wealth.
Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.
(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)
Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.
If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.
So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.
Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?
Oh yeah. The Great Depression.
See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.
Unavoidably, it leads to crime.
Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.
In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.
And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?
His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.
It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.
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zentraex · 1 year ago
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Summary: You made a lot mistakes in your new job, but do you regret them? Nope, not a bit. But who can blame you for it? If you wouldn't have done them, you never would have met this pretty boy.
Remember: German Grammar is a lot different then English grammar. I apologize for any mistakes.
Pairing: Francis Mosses (doppelganger) x gn! Reader
(A/N): I usually write for mha, but this men dominates my fyp on TikTok and I can't stop grinning like an idiot about all this fanarts. My men is just too attractive for his own good. Nevertheless, Tumblr has too few fanfictions for him, so I had to do it myself. Still, I am not that proud about how it turned out. It certainly sounded better in my head, but I don't care. One shitty fanficion is better than none.
Art by @asteriscks on TikTok
This game is not mine, but Ignacio Alvarado. I also used phrases from the game.
Mistakes? Yes, but no regrets.
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It's been a week since you started working for D.D.D as a doorman. 
You can remember your first day so well, it could have been yesterday. 
Well... probably because your life is constantly at stake. 
_
It started with a mistake that you ended up here. It was completely unexpected since you always made sure, that you sent your rent to the right account. 
Surely no one can blame you for a small typo, right?
Well, your landlord, who kept pounding on your door until you woke up, surely did.
"What?" you asked, annoyed, as you opened the door.
"When do you plan to finally pay your bill? The date has already been overdue for two weeks!" he complains. 
What?
"Sorry, but I've already transferred my money to you."
"Well, I didn't get anything. Do you still have the receipt for the transfer?"
"No..."
You already knew what that meant: double payment.
"Look, today, I'll transfer it to your account again, okay? If it doesn't work this time, it's not my fault."
You were about to close the door, but your landlord had other plans when he held the door open with his foot.
 "No no no. You will give me the money now. I don’t trust you. Why would you transfer it to me today, when it should have happened two weeks ago. You will give it to me now."
Your eyes widened. 
Now?
"But I don't have that much money in my hand? Who's got that?"
"Then I'll have to kick you out for now. But don't worry, no one is going to buy an apartment here anytime soon, so you can move right back in as soon as you give me the money."
Staring stunned at his smiling face you could have sworn you were about to hit him. 
"The keys?" 
With watery eyes, you grabbed your keys, placed them in his outstretched hand, and frowned.
What kind of person had such sharp fingernails as he does?  
You were sure that he could definitely have stabbed someone with them.
Thank God, I didn't hit him. 
"When do you plan to give me the money? I've heard that all banks closed today. Some kind of holiday among them, I've heard."
What!?
How were you going to get through the day today? You intentionally left everything in your apartment since you were so sure that you could have given the money to your landlord in a matter of minutes. 
"You’re telling me this now!?"
"If you had paid, you wouldn’t need to know." 
That filthy bastard.
No matter how angry you were at that moment, your panic was overweighting.  
What were you going to do now? 
Shit.
"Man, I really wouldn't want to be in your situation...", the landlord murmured.
Fuck the nails- This guy deserves a punch.
Just as you raised your fist, he speaks again.
"But maybe we can agree on something.
Then you stopped. 
"The D.D.D., which is responsible for the safety of all residents in this area, is looking for doormans. Ours has recently...quitted, which is why we are urgently looking for one. They pay three times the amount of your rent in a week. If you take the job, I can overlook your sloppiness this time."
Three times your rent? In a week? And for what? To sit there and check a few documents. You'd be crazy not to take the offer! 
"Okay. I'll do it. Where can I apply?"
"Don't worry, I'll sort it out for you. Tomorrow, you can start”
_
Looking back, it should have been clear to you that something was wrong. Starting with the sudden his sudden threat, the fingernails and this stupid story about the holiday of the banks. 
Maybe it was just because you were too panicked at that moment to think rationally.
But let’s be true here: when are you thinking rationally? If you did, you would certainly have quitted after your first day.
_
"Welcome and congratulations on your new job."
After watching the short video, a man in the yellow suit came to your window. You are so shocked that you can’t even answer.
I'm going to die today!
After all, you know it yourself: you're too gullible for the job. There's no chance you'll unmask a doppelganger who copies someone well.
“As you could see on the introductory film, your job is to verify the entry of the neighbors of your building. Each day there will be a list of individuals who will request entry to the building. It is possible that there are individuals who request entry and aren’t on the list. In which case you will mark on the checklist that they are not on the list and proceed to question the individual. Also, you must verify that the ID and the entry reqest are correct and have the respective D.D.D. logo. Don’t forget to also check the expiration on the IDs. Remember it’s Febuary 1955."
Your gaze wanders to the note that was stuck to the wall. 
Arnold Schmicht F02 – 01
Anastacha Mikaelys F02 – 04
Robertsky Peachman F01 – 02
Steven Rudboys F03 – 03 
Mia Stone F03 – 01
Rafttellyn Cappuccin F03 – 04
Admittedly, you don't know any of your neighbors, neither by character nor really by sight. You were never the type to care about your neighbors. 
"I wish you good luck."
C’mon Reader, be like Henry…
But better.
The first inhabitant was Mia Stone and you already started to sweat.
"Good evening."
Was she real? Was she a doppelganger? 
With shaky hands, you reached for her ID and entry pass, only to find that everything was fine. She was also on today's list and her appearance doesn't show any deviations either, right?
Just to be sure, you looked into the folder that described her appearance: 
Long hair
Small round nose
She has freckles
...
...
...
Freckles?
Your eyes wandered again to the woman in front of you, who was waiting patiently behind the window. 
You narrowed your eyes a little and leaned forward to get a better view of her.
No matter how long you stared at her, you didn't see them, her freckles. 
"You look different...", you murmur after a while.
"What's wrong with my appearance? I think everything is fine with my appearance."
Her photo on her ID and Entry Pass both have no freckles. 
Perhaps a mistake on the part of the D.D.D.? 
You're about to press the green button, but then you see her grinning slightly out of the corner of your eye. 
Shit. 
She almost had you. You're really not made for this job.
Your hand slammed hard against the red button, causing the siren to blare and the metal window to crash down. 
"3312," you murmur to yourself.
"You have contacted the D.D.D.. A group of agents has been sent to your building. Please wait for the cleaning protocol to run."
Cleaning protocol? 
What happens to those who were cleaned? They certainly won't be killed, will they? 
What if they will?
What if your judgment was wrong?
What if...
Your thoughts were interrupted as the siren fell silent and the metal window went up, only to reveal the yellow man.
"Cleaning protocol completed. You can continue your job."
It took a while until someone finally came again. 
This time, your heart was pounding faster. Significantly faster. And this time, you can't even say for sure that it's all out of fear. 
Milkman...
You definitely can't deny it: he's probably one of the most attractive men you've ever seen. 
You don't even have to look at today's checklist to tell he's not on it – a face like his would have caught your eye right away. 
"Francis Mosses, huh?" you murmured to yourself as you looked at his ID. "You're not on today's list."
"I’m not on today’s list because I had to leave due to an emergency."
Long nose
Thin chin
Tired eyes
Short hair
Wears a hat
It all fit. The only thing left now was a call. 
Just as you began to spin the wheel of the phone, he said, "You're new here, aren't you? I've never seen you here before."
"Yes, today is my first day."
"Must be hard, huh? I've heard that more and more doppelgangers are appearing and they are becoming more and more error-free. It would be a shame if such a pretty face as yours were to disappear forever."
Your cheeks turn red and suddenly you feel shyer than you actually are.
"B-But your job has to be hard as well. I didn't think that being a milkman would rob you so much sleep."
Francis smiles a little. So little that you almost didn't see it at all.
"It's not. I just stay up for a very long time. If you like, I can bring you some milk sometime. It's refreshing, calms the nerves."
You bite your lip slightly when you have to refrain from a question.
What milk do you mean exactly?
My God, why were you just such a sucker for handsome men?
"I'd be delighted, Francis."
You talked to him for a while and you quickly forgot that you were actually going to call someone. 
"I'd like to talk to you more, but I don't want to stop you from your work. I'll see you tomorrow, right, Reader?"
And you quickly forgot that you never told him your name. 
You pressed the green button.
_
"Shh," whispered the voice of Francis next to your ear. 
It was your third day, your third time to change shift.
Well, it usually would have been.
Your vision and mouth were blocked by the bloody hands of the doppelganger who claimed to be Francis.
He had killed the doorman, that should have taken over your shift.
You had to admit, that you were more than inconsiderate. After all, you didn't ask for his entry pass, nor the reason why he wasn't on today's list.  
"I'll let you go now, yeah? No wrong move, okay?"
He laughed softly as he released his hands from you and turned your chair, so you were facing him. 
"We don't want to hurt you, do we, Reader?"
The sentence shouldn't have given you hope, because after all, you were more than sure that you were going to die one way or another.
Maybe you should have shown a little resistance. For your honor, but....
Oh?
He is so close to you that you can practically feel his body heat. Or was it your own? Your face, despite your situation, was burning. 
Even though he said he was letting you go, his hands ran over your body and you couldn't deny that it did something to you. 
Were you so shameful?
"Actually, I wanted to wait, but I couldn't take it anymore.  I've been patient long enough, haven't I? It was so much work for me, to let you get this job."
You didn't know what to say. Honestly, you didn't know if you would even be able to answer him. 
His breath touched your throat as he spoke, "I think I deserve this, don't I? What do you say, Reader? Do I deserve my reward?”
If you were going to die anyway, why not enjoy the last few minutes?
Regardless of whether he was a doppelganger, he had lived up to his title as "Mlikman" that night.
_
"You killed the real Francis Mosses?" you asked the next day. 
Francis grins, almost so much so that his real form was threatening to show itself.
"Yes, of course. What would have happened if he had come before me? You would have sent the D.D.D. after me."
Well, he had a point, huh?
No matter how wrong it was, you were glad it didn't come to that. 
You didn't know the real Francis Mosses. That's probably why his death was so insignificant to you.
"Have you killed more people?"
"Just more doppelgangers you let through."
Your eyes widened. 
You were so sure you caught them all. The false success was the reason why you didn't quit…well, it was one of the reasons.
"How many have I let through?"
Francis just continues to wear his smirk as he gives you a kiss on the forehead.
"Don't rack your pretty head over it, okay?"
You just nod, smiling.
"Are you going to kill others...?
You don't know why you added your next question. Probably because you wanted to feel special. 
"Would you kill for me?"
"Hooooonn"
When you turn your gaze to his face, two white pupils stared at you and his grin is inhumanly wide and black. 
You don't know if it's joyful or sadistic, but it definitely made you feel special.
_
Looking back, you made more than a few mistakes. 
But honestly? 
You don't regret a single one of them. After all, all of them have led to an all-too-familiar knock on your window.
When you look up, he waves, the milkman. 
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midday-clouds · 7 months ago
Text
Yandere Batfamily x Neglected & "Immortal" Reader 》 II
Part I Part III Part IV Part V
Thank you so much for the love for the first one! 💞 There are so many ways I can imagine how this story can go and it's hard to pick one or try merging all the ideas. Nonetheless, I hope this meets your expectations!
CW: Stalking, Breaking and entering, Violence(Being stabbed, beating up a thief), Blood, (Menstion of past) Kidnapping
You had officially moved into your apartment in Bludhaven
Everything has moved so quickly and now you can finally relax
You gave up connecting with your family, got kidnapped, died, came back to life and moved out
It may be a bit much to pick the farthest college from the manor but you’re clearly unwanted there
Your family has neglected you and didn't do anything when you were kidnapped, so you have every right to be as far away from them as possible
It was honestly quite lucky that you were already accepted into a college in Bludhaven during your senior year. If you had applied after your kidnapping, the chances of you getting in would have been low.
But you’re here now and can finally feel happy. Well, if you don't count some of the nightmares you get from when you “died”.
Sometimes you do wonder how you survived that gunshot. Were you not hit somewhere vital? But then, where was the hole?
A part of you was curious and wanted to replicate the injury but that would be painful. You surviving the gunshot also could have been a one-time thing
You never ended up going to the police or the hospital because what were they going to do? You don’t have any proof that it even happened because your injury is gone, the blood left at the abandoned building is likely dried up and doesn’t look fresh, and Bruce probably threw away the ransom letter. 
The only proof you have that it even happened is your memories and you telling your friends. But the police or doctors would just look at you and say “You look fine now, no need to look into the situation anymore.” 
But enough about that though, you’ve got a few more hours before it gets dark and you want to get to know about the area.
It is still the middle of summer so your college classes haven't started yet. You could have waited until class started to move but you wanted to be out before Alfred returned from his vacation.
Alfred was the closest thing to family in the manor. But he and Bruce have never felt like safe adults to share your problems with. 
He should be back from his vacation now, has he found out about your kidnapping or did Bruce cover it up? He probably did to avoid getting news out. You should probably look into how you can change your surname.
Just as you finish your thoughts about the manor, you use your laptop to find interesting places in the area before heading out the door with directions in a notebook
Bruce and the rest of the family may know where you are currently, but bringing you back home was the hard part. Alfred had to convince Bruce that if he wanted you back, he shouldn’t just barge in all of a sudden. 
You’ve been hurt by the family's actions and won't return without a fight. 
But even then, Bruce has to see you. The entire family needs to see you with their own eyes at least once.
With this in mind, the whole family decides to take a small road trip to Bludhaven. They’d find you and figure out the best way to approach you without scaring you off. 
It was almost sundown when the family got to Bludhaven. They change into their vigilante gear so it’d be easier to hide in the shadows
Tim loads up the tracker on your phone and leads the way. It seems the tracker you have isn't the best because once the family gets close to your apartment, your phone just says your laptop is nearby instead of its exact location. 
No problem though, Tim can easily hack into the computer system for the apartment and find which room is yours.
Once your room is found, the family takes a peek inside. You’re nowhere to be found, which is a little worrying.
The locks on your windows are broken as the family opens them and sneaks inside. Your living room and kitchen are littered with boxes but that’s it. They each take a look around to find you but come out empty-handed. If you were here, they may do exactly what Alfred discouraged and just take you home. However, because you aren’t home, the only other place you could be is outside. Where it’s dark out and you’re alone.
Worried for your safety, the family immediately goes on another search for your
Because you could be anywhere, the family decides to split up to find you
You look around as you walk back to your apartment, a few small bags of food and snacks in your hands. Because it’s getting dark, you do begin to pick up the pace. You’re so focused on not getting home that you don’t notice when a person peeks over at you from a rooftop.
You’re just about to pass a convenience store when someone runs out and knocks into you. The person curses as they quickly get up and reach for their bag of stolen goods. Filled with adrenaline, the thief takes out a knife and stabs you. They were aiming to kill you so there weren’t any witnesses but ended up putting the knife in your shoulder. As the thief makes a run for it, a certain vigilante quickly blocks their path
Nightwing goes full force on the thief. How dare they hurt his baby bird. He refuses to make the same mistake of leaving you alone and hurt.
Your heart is racing as you attempt to pull the knife out of your shoulder. Your eyelids feel weak but you refuse to fall asleep. Unlike before, you aren’t restrained and can still escape.
You pull the knife out and let it fall on the ground next to you. After a few breaths, you do your best to stand up. You take a small glance at Nightwing before quickly running back to your apartment. 
Once inside, you almost collapse on the floor but try to get your first aid kit.
Your bandaging may not be that good but the best but it’s enough for you to feel comfortable sleeping for the night
Nightwing got a few swings in before he heard the sound of something falling onto the ground
He looks up to see that you've pulled the knife out of you and about to stand up
Before Nightwing could help you, his opponent throws a punch while he was distracted.
The vigilante shifts his attention to the thief when you suddenly make an escape. Night wing attempts to call out to you but it appears you didn't notice.
He sighs as he handcuffs the thief. This guy was such a hassle that Nightwing almost forgot why he was in such a hurry to wrap up the whole situation
The vigilante turns to where you were but only finds a bloodied knife and the bags you left behind. He carefully picks up the bags and knife while he considers where you have gone.
Spotting a trail of blood, Nightwing quickly follows it, contacting the rest of the family as well
The family gathers at the same spot near your apartment and finds you sleeping in your bed. Wanting to help you, Nightwing comes up with an idea
You lay on your bed, waiting for sleep to consume you when a knock comes from your door. You try to ignore it but the knocking continues. The only thing that gets you up is the realization that the knocking is too loud to be from your door. Opening your eyes, you realize that someone is at your window. 
Getting up, you pick up your pepper spray as you slowly walk towards the window. You have your curtains closed so you try to peek past them to see who is there
Who you see is Nightwing and it gets you worried. Does he think you were involved with that other person? He must have seen that the thief stabbed you at least
Not wanting to make the vigilant wait, you open your window slightly. Only enough so you can hear what Nightwing has to say
Nightwing happily greets you and shows you the bag of items that you left behind when leaving the scene.
Surprised, you thank Nightwing and open the window. Making sure to not open the window more than necessary, just enough to collect the bags
Just as you reach for it, the vigilante points out your bandaged shoulder. He goes on to say the importance of properly handling injuries and offers to rebandage your arm.
It takes you a couple of moments before you agree to his help.
Like a big brother, he sits you down and redoes the bandages. Honestly, it makes you wish your actual big brothers would care for you in this way. Even though one of them is right in front of you
Once your shoulder has properly been bandaged, you thank Nightwing for his help. He offers to stay the night but you tell him that you’d be fine. Plus, doesn’t he still have to take care of Bludhaven
You make sure to close and lock your window once Nightwing leaves before going back to bed.  As sleep consumes you, your whole family watches from a distance. You didn’t seem to recognize Dick as Nightwing so it may be possible to get you to trust them before taking you home
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noisilyscreechingsong · 6 days ago
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I was thinking of those prompts where Danny is placed (most of the time by Clockwork) into the Batfam. Danny believes he’s been there the whole time and it’s after Bruce comes back from being trapped in time so they chalk it up to time shenanigans. Also, Danny is now Tim’s twin.
Warnings: some language
Danny skips down the stairs leisurely, headphones in to some rock song Damian would hate.
The Cave is damp and cold, as usual. The music blares out the sound of his sneakers tapping as he walks. He waves to B’s back as he continues on to the work bench. The project he had started the day before was still there.
One of the grapple hooks was lagging so he was fixing it up and added a few more safety measures on the device. His brothers were using this, he wanted it as safe as he can make it.
Behind him he hears a voice over the music, interrupting his work after only about half an hour. He turns and sees Bruce looking at him with a raised brow.
Danny pulls out an earbud.
“Huh?”
“I thought you were going to visit your friends?”
Danny thinks back to the last conversation he had with his dad. It had nothing to do with his friends actually, it was about his stupid English test and how he was going to call Jason if he could help tutor him since he was so hopeless.
“No, I’ll see them on Monday.”
“Monday?”
Danny pauses halfway to putting the earbud back in his ear.
“Yea? At school?”
“School?”
Bruce stands to step closer to him but still at a distance.
Danny rolls his eyes and chuckles.
“Are you just going to keep repeating what I say?”
His dad looks him over critically. Danny pauses his music and takes out the other earbud.
“Did you change your hair?”
Danny reaches up reflexively to pat down his bangs. If anything he probably needed a haircut soon.
“Um, no? Are you okay? When’s the last time you slept?”
He tosses his headphones on the workbench but keeps his phone in his hand in case he needs to call someone.
“I’ve recovered,” Bruce dismisses. Like his year long trip in the time stream could be easily forgotten after a few months.
“Sure,” Danny agrees anyway when they both know he doesn’t agree.
“Tim,” Bruce sighs.
Danny immediately presses the button on his ring three times to alert the others. The computer beeps and the man turns to look at the screen. Danny grabs the closest weapon — a screwdriver — and holds it behind him.
Only Alfred, Damian, and Duke were at the manor. Hopefully backup would arrive soon.
“What were you doing, Dad?”
Not-Bruce freezes and then relaxes. It was only a second but Danny noticed. Any of the Bats would have, they’re trained for it.
“Just going over reports,” Not-Bruce replies with a smile. A smile.
His grip on the tool tightens.
“Which reports?” He tests.
What was he doing? There’s no telling the kind of information this imposter got a hold of.
“The Bennet case.”
Danny moves. Casually, he takes a step to the left, where the more heavy duty weapons were stored. The man matches him threateningly. Danny stills.
“That was solved over a month ago.”
There was no reason to look at a case from a month ago that was solved and closed. Bruce would have no reason to look at something like that, especially since it was Tim who solved it and submitted the report.
“By you,” Not-Bruce says in an odd tone.
He was getting Tim and Danny mixed up. Nobody in the family gets them confused anymore. That only applies to outsiders.
Danny tenses, ready to bolt toward the weapons. Not-Bruce is fast to intercept, but Danny is smaller and more agile.
He dodges and goes to stab the man in the leg when there is a prick to his neck that makes him stumble. Not-Bruce uses that opportunity to disarm him and slam him into the floor. It’s jarring, but the sedative is already working its way through him.
He blinks twice before everything is forced to black.
He knows he’s tied to a chair before he’s even fully awake. There’s been numerous kidnappings and training exercises that had his hands and feet tied down to know exactly in what position he’s in and for how long depending on how numb his limbs are.
He’s still in the Cave because he can feel the damp chill and hear the faint chattering of the bats. There’s a barrier though. Along with how hard the chair was he knew exactly where he was.
The containment cell is tucked away in a separate cavern. It had thick microfiber see through walls and a single chair with restraints.
The imposter put him in their own cell.
Danny is positively livid with the disrespect.
“You’re awake.”
Danny jerks his head up.
Oh thank the Ancients, his twin is here.
“Tim,” he breathes. “Okay, I know this looks bad, but trust me. It’s Bruce. He couldn’t tell us apart. Something’s wrong. He’s not himself.”
Tim is silent for much too long, just staring at him. He’s in his uniform like he just got back from patrol when Danny knew he had been in California with his team.
“Just talk to me,” he demands. “What’s going on? Where’s B?”
Tim’s mask narrows.
“Why should I trust you?”
Danny blinks wide.
“Why should- okay, first of all, screw you. Second, now is so not the time to be petty with me. I already apologized for messing up your photo shoot. I even made up for it, so legally you can’t be mad at me anymore.”
“My photo shoot?”
Danny rolls his eyes. This seat was getting uncomfortable.
“Don’t pretend like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Stop being such a jerk. This is serious. I’m telling you something is off with B. Did you guys check him? I hit the emergency button.”
Danny can tell his twin raises a brow at him.
“You hit the emergency button?”
“I literally just said that. Do you listen at all?”
“I was just confirming,” Tim shrugs it off.
“Whatever. Tim, I think there’s someone else here. I got hit with a tranq. Someone is in on this. And can someone please get me out of these? I’m not the problem here.”
Unfortunately, Tim does not get him out of his bonds. He just stands there watching him until he turns on his heel and leaves the cavern where Danny can’t see.
“What the- Tim! What the hell, dude?!”
Danny wiggles in his seat, but the more thrashing the more it hurt. Instead he sits there for a while, just tracing the rock and counting, until someone comes back in.
It’s Dick. The one big brother who he can always count on to at least be there.
“Hey there,” he smiles through the glass.
“Dick, what is happening? Tim isn’t listening. Did you find Bruce? Why am I in here?”
“Yea, Bruce is here. He’s safe. I saw the tapes. It looked like you were going to attack him,” he reasons gently.
“Yea because something is wrong with him. Maybe he’s compromised or mind controlled or something. You need to investigate. He needs to be cleared,” Danny insists.
“Okay,” Dick nods. He squats down to get comfortable outside the barrier instead of going to find Bruce though. “What made you think he’s compromised?”
“He kept confusing me with Tim!” He emphasizes because just the thought is outrageous. “He hasn’t done that in years. Yea maybe a mix up when he’s not paying attention but he was looking right at me and called me Tim. And he kept asking me these weird questions, like he had no idea who I was. Something is wrong.”
Dick puts a hand over his lips in thought, clearly going over something in his head.
“I’ll be right back,” Dick rushes out the door in a flash.
Danny’s jaw drops in protest but no words come out. He yells in frustration instead.
No one was listening to him! They were all freaking him out.
Maybe this was training. Like on their sixteenth birthday. It’s similar to what happened then. So what is his next course of action?
“You make it sound like we should know you.”
Danny finds his little brother in the shadows, lurking by the entrance. He’s also dressed in his vigilante attire, just like Tim and Dick.
“Damian, could you stop being a little gremlin for two seconds?” He glares at the younger boy.
“Answer the question.”
“It wasn’t a question,” he snarks back.
Damian grinds his teeth and Danny smirks nastily. He wasn’t in the mood for sibling rivalry right now.
“Who are you?”
Danny’s expression twists.
“That isn’t funny.”
“I’m not laughing.”
A cold dread settles in his chest. What if it wasn’t a training exercise?
“You know who I am. Stop playing games.”
“You say you’re not Tim. Claim you’ve known Father for years.”
“Damian.”
Bruce steps out followed closely by Dick and Tim.
There is a cold sweat on his brow now. Danny’s heart is beating loudly in his ears. He can feel the panic in his chest.
He wasn’t like the others. He didn’t go out to fight crime. He just trained with them because they all knew he needed to know those things to live in their life.
He wasn’t prepared for something like this.
“Guys, you’re really freaking me out.”
“Answer the question.”
No one defends him from Damian’s demand. They all look at him with caution, like he was the enemy. A stranger.
“You know me. What are you guys talking about?”
When no one answers he’s close to a damn panic attack.
“It’s me. Danny. You know? Tim’s twin. I’ve lived here since me and Tim moved in when we were twelve. Please tell me this is just training. You guys didn’t- didn’t forget me or something, right?”
Something in Dick’s expression looks unsure, but they all are withdrawn and completely in their roles. They weren’t acting like family.
“Prove it,” Tim commands.
Danny can’t believe his ears.
“AN-4729,” he recites the emergency code to prove authenticity they all know.
He can tell they recognize it, but wait for more.
“The sun shines in the east,” is the next security code to show safety.
Danny can tell it’s still not enough.
“There’s a file of me on the computer. Tim has pictures of us since childhood hidden under the floorboard under his dresser. My room is to the left of Tim’s. Inside the closet, in the ceiling, is a box. Inside the box is a medallion. It holds my entire life. You could also call Mr. Fox. I work with him often. I’m his favorite. I’m even on the payroll. Or you could just Google Daniel Drake-Wayne. I’m sure I’d pop up. Or call Gotham Academy since I’m enrolled there and everyone has seen Alfred pick me up and drop me off. I have a Christmas stocking with my name on it. My picture is literally all over the manor. I know the ins and outs of all your equipment and tech. The password to the Bat computer is 35G4s@2b-“
“Okay,” Dick gently interrupts. “I think that’s enough for now.”
Danny can feel how wet his eyes are. He stiffens his upper lip as Alfred would say so he doesn’t show how much of a disappointment he is to fail this test. Because this has to be a test. It has to be.
“Tim, you and I could always tell when we’re lying. We call ourselves our own personal lie detectors. So… am I lying?”
Tim studies him hard. His twin looks into his eyes for longer than it should take.
“I don’t know.”
And Danny breaks.
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iamred-iamyellow · 8 months ago
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⋆ ˚。⋆౨ৎ˚ Gangsters Wife
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♥ masterlist | request rules
♥ pairing: mafiaboss!carlos sainz x fem!wife!reader
♥ synopsis: things start to change for you and your marriage-of-convenience husband after you stitch up his wounds
♥ one-shot - as always none of the pictures are mine <3
♥ warnings: swearing and vague descriptions of smut - p in v (wrap it before you tap it) !!!
♥ a/n: i wrote on my vacation lol. i’m a little nervous to post this since it’s uncharted writing territory for me but i hope you enjoy reading it <3
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You sat on the black satin sheets of your bed, waiting for your husband to come back from business. You knew you should probably be asleep; that he wouldn’t want you up worrying for him, but here you were wide awake. 
It wasn’t like the two of you married for love, anyway. It was much more out of convenience. His job was… interesting, but you weren’t complaining about the luxury that you now lived in due to the arrangement. 
Your breath hitched as you heard the door unlock, assuming it was Carlos. He made his way towards the bedroom and immediately locked eyes with you. His hair was slicked to the side and he had a couple of cuts on his face. He was wearing a red shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, black dress pants, some black shoes, and an expensive watch. 
“Go to bed,” he demanded, removing the ticking object from his wrist and laying it down in a drawer with the rest of his collection. 
“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, rustling in the bed sheets. 
“I’m alright if that’s what you’re wondering,” he swiped his thumb over the blood on his bottom lip. “Get some rest.” 
You slowly stood up and strolled over to him.  Your gaze dropped down to the ripped fabric on his side, presumably from a fight. 
“Were you stabbed?” you asked in a whisper. 
“Lightly.”
“Lightly? What does lightly mean?”
He began unbuttoning his shirt, though it didn’t take long before it was off of him. The moonlight from a small open window illuminated his body, his muscles were strained, covered in sweat, and there was a wound flooded with blood on his abdomen. 
“It’s not that deep,” he murmured.
“Literally or figuratively? Because it looks like the knife went in pretty far.” You softly grazed his skin with the light touch of your fingertips. 
You walked over to your nightstand and pulled out a small stitch kit. 
“Sit down,” you commanded him, nodding towards the edge of the bed. 
“I’m fine. I can do this on my own.” 
“I said sit. down.” 
He took a deep, agitated sigh and did as you told him. You dampened a rag in the bathroom and returned to clean the blood off his wound.
You threaded the needle and pierced it through his skin, beginning the first stitch. 
“Are you sure you’re qualified for this?” he asked. 
You nodded, “I wouldn’t have married you without knowing how to do this.” 
He hummed and your left hand went to his waist to hold him still. He could feel the coldness of the silver wedding ring he gave you only a few months ago. 
You finished pulling the last part of the thread and cut the excess off. 
“There,” you said, pressing your palm gently against his abs.
He pulled you onto his lap and his hands firmly gripped your thighs. You made a soft sound and ground down onto his belt. 
“Tomorrow, amor.” he stopped you and whispered. “Let’s go to bed.” 
-
You woke up first at 7. You had rolled over to find your husband awake, messaging someone on his phone.
“Go back to sleep cariño,” he mumbled, running one of his hands over your hair.
You grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, slowly making your way up his arm.
“Amor,” he warned.
“What? You said tomorrow… it’s tomorrow.”
The next thing you knew he had you pinned down by your neck. His phone rang on the nightstand and he used his free hand to pick it up, still thrusting into you as he did so.
“Leave us alone,” he said and hung up instantly.
Leave. Us. Alone.
You woke up again at 9, this time alone in your bed. You wandered into the kitchen to see your husband making breakfast.
“Carlitos?” you ask, a faint smile teasing your lips. “Where’s the chef?” 
“I sent him home.”
“You’ve never cooked for me before,” you took a seat on the barstool at the counter. 
“I’ve never cooked for anyone before,” he admitted.
He set some pancakes on a plate and handed it to you.
You hummed, “No syrup?”
He shrugged “I don’t think we have any. I usually eat mine just the dough.”
It was odd having a conversation like this with Carlos. The two of you weren’t used to making small talk.
“Uhm, how do you feel? Are any of your cuts infected?” you asked.
“No, I feel fine,” he said putting cooking supplies away as you ate. “The stitching you did is good but i’ll probably still get my doctor to look at it.”
“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you replied, picking at your food as his phone rang.
He flipped it open to answer a call from an unknown number. From the muffled spanish voice on the other end you assumed it was from Fernando. 
“Sí, I’ll be there soon.” Carlos said and hung up the phone. 
“I’ll be back,” he told you, walking out the front door without a goodbye.
Your eyes caught the abundance of bodyguards that entered the room to block the exits and entrances. You sighed and slouched, tapping your nails on the marble counter. Great. Just when things were starting to get good. 
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jo-speaks · 9 days ago
Text
TESTING THE WATERS
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✶ right place, right time masterlist ✶
overview: quinn's pre-game ritual with you takes a bit of a turn.
warnings: suggestive content, no smut but it's still spicy, hand worshiping (kinda?), itty bitty oral fixation, etc.
wc: 1.1k
note: yeah I got a little carried away. but i have to express my newly found love for his hands.
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Are you coming over soon?” You spoke into the phone, sitting down at the island of your kitchen, leaning over to rest your chin on your forearms. “There’s a plate of pasta waiting for you.”
“Yeah, I’m pulling into your street now.”  Your phone was sitting down on the countertop, his voice making your phone shake a bit. “I’ll be up soon.”
When he hung up, your stomach filled with butterflies at his words. It wasn’t the first time he was coming over. Hell, he probably knew your apartment better than you did at this point. Yet, that initial excitement didn’t die down no matter the amount of times he came into your space.
The relationship between the two of you was still progressing slowly. A few coffee and bookshop dates here and there, you attending the occasional game wearing a hoodie that no one knew was his. But there was no label on it. No other label than friends. And you both were fine with that.
It wasn’t until you heard that familiar knocking pattern on your door that you snapped out of your thoughts. It was a pattern you both had come up with when you were going over to his after a night out at the bar. Four knocks, a pause, then three. You stood up, trying to calm your smile as you twisted the lock, revealing Quinn in his suit. 
His game tonight had completely slipped your mind as if it wasn’t the whole reason he was coming over in the first place. 
“Where’s my food?” 
You huffed, “Not a hi? How are you?”
Quinn laughed, walking past you as you exchanged smiles. As you closed the door, you could hear the familiar sound of paws hitting the wooden floors. 
“Hey, Chilli dog! How are you, sweet girl?” He cooed, leaning down to pet Chilli, messing her fur all over as she licked at his hands. 
You crossed your arms, “Seriously?” He turned around to see your straight face, a toothy grin coming up onto his face as he stood back up and made his way over to you. His arms wrapped around you as reciprocated it, basking in his clean scent. 
He pulled back, keeping his arms gently on your waist. Your breath hitched at the prolonged contact, your eyes looking up to meet his not doing anything to help. Thankfully, before it could get awkward, Chilli came in the space between you guys. You shared a laugh, pulling away from each other.
Walking to your stove, you scooped the pasta on the small plate you had already set out, wanting it to be warm by the time he arrived. Instead of sitting down, Quinn walked over to you, leaning over the counter next to you. You chuckled, grabbing a fork before setting it in front of him. 
“Are you not eating?” He questioned, not even looking at the plate. 
You shook your head softly, “I had some before you got here. Why?”
He shrugged his shoulders, picking up his fork and toying with his food. “I don’t like eating without you. Especially in front of you.” 
Now him FaceTiming you every time he ate made sense. 
“I mean, I can grab some yoghurt if it makes you feel more comfortable?” You offered, already making your way to your fridge to grab a yoghurt cup. 
Quinn turned to look at you, shaking his head rapidly, “No, no. You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” It was the partial truth, he didn’t want to force you to do anything. But, he wouldn’t lie and say that his stomach didn’t flutter at your offer.
Grabbing a spoon, you lifted yourself up to sit on the countertop, the back of your thighs getting hit with a cold sensation as your shorts didn’t cover the skin. You peeled back the lid, digging into the vanilla flavoured treat. Quinn stabbed at his food, finally feeling like he could eat comfortably. You couldn’t help but notice the way his fingers gripped the fork, controlling it to get his serving, small pokes of his veins and bones peeking through his pale skin. You basked in each other's silence, the sound of chewing and swallowing filling the space of your kitchen. 
It wasn’t until you spilled a little bit of your yoghurt on your shirt that laughter broke the silence. 
“Did you forget how to eat?” Quinn teased, setting down his fork as he laughed.
You rolled your eyes playfully, your finger coming down to scoop it up and licking it off. Quinn’s mouth fell agape at the sight, shifting on his heels as he tried to control himself. He was getting worked up over the way your tongue casually came out to lick your fingertips, suckling gently to get it all off. 
Amidst his trance, he noticed that some of it still lingered on your face. You hadn’t seemed to notice, which caused his gaze to linger on your lips. When you felt his stare, you looked up, instinctively licking around to try and find what you had missed. “Is there something on my face?”
He nodded, “Yeah,” and before he could think, he was stopping your hand as it came up to wipe at your face. His grip was loose, but tight enough to keep it down. Bringing his right hand up, he slowly wiped his thumb across your lower cheek, gathering the remaining yoghurt. His gaze was focused on your lips, but yours was on his eyes, the way they were set focused on your mouth. Your mouth felt dry as your lips parted slightly, your breath hitching. 
Quinn looked at you, his green eyes now on you. No words were exchanged, only the soft sounds of your breath mixing together. His brain switched off, the consequences being the least of his worries. Neither of you could stop it, the way his thumb came up to your lips, splitting them further open before slipping into the warmth of your mouth. 
Instinctively, your tongue immediately swirled around the digit, sucking softly the way you had your own a few moments ago. The eye contact was never broken, the actions going straight to your core. 
He went to push further, wanting to watch you take his finger deeper. However, his plans were foiled when his phone began to ring, snapping you both out of your daze. Quinn pulled his finger back slowly, bringing that same hand to reach for his phone that rested in his back pocket. 
He simply held it, let it ring, as he kept looking at you. Surprisingly, it wasn’t a look of lust, but rather one of enlightenment. Like he just discovered a brand new side of you. 
And he had, but he wouldn’t find out just yet.
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