#so i just didn't mention it :x

[heraldeez]

Kočička

Viktor x Reader | 3.1K | NSFW

Warnings/Tags: modern AU, pet play, nipple play, anal fingering, butt plugs, unprotected sex, a tiny hint of embarrassment kink, use of “pretty kitty”/“pussycat” for the reader, and banging under a Christmas tree :]

It’s time for Viktor to play with his present.

A/N: EVERY DAY, I see “Viktor meow meow this” “Viktor meow meow that”. And I agree.

But tonight? You meow for him. 💪

I had like four Viktor WIPs cooking this month, it has been HECTIC. A special thanks to @valaruakars and @dicax-asina my beloveds for helping me polish this one off. Missed Christmas by a couple days, but... HAPPY BIRTHDAY VIKTOR!

Translations at the end. Hope you enjoy! <3

---

Wrapping paper crinkles by your ear as you toss your head back, cry dying in your mouth as the pinprick bite of teeth on your nipple leaves you breathless.

You have to focus on taking air, staring up at the baubles hanging above you. Warm wool separates your shoulders from the cold wood – the thick handknit blanket that rests atop your couch, richly colored and intricately patterned and warmer than anything else in the house, waiting for the slow afternoons when Viktor takes a rare catnap in the living room.

Viktor had carefully wrapped it around you at the start, attentive to your needs as he spread you out under the Christmas tree, a gift for him, more valuable than any precious metal or gemstone. Whispering soft reverence about how the Christmas lights sparkle in your eyes like they were made to decorate your reflection, how soft and sweet you were beneath him, eyes and lips roaming freely with each saccharine word.

Such sweetness, carried on such sharp teeth.

You suck in a breathy keen as the edge of Viktor's incisor kneads against your already overwrought nipple again, hand shooting out to yank at his hair in ecstasy and plead mercy all at once, before you can remember that you won't be able to really grip it.

After all, you're wearing kitty paws.

Soft gloves cover your hands, squishy pink paw pads sewn to fabric the perfect shade to match your hair. Viktor always did appreciate attention to detail.

And the gloves aren’t the end of it.

One too many late nights spent looking at fetish sites with Viktor, and December rolls around to find you like this, near naked with soft flimsy little cat ears clipped into your hair, a crimson collar threaded through the big fluffy bow wrapped around your neck.

A vision, through and through. His gift. His kitty.

Little kočička.

The bell at your throat chimes merrily every time you twitch under his hands. It’s hard not to squirm.

Viktor plucks at your chest, working your nipples up to a glorious cherry slickness between his fingers and his mouth.

A sight surely to match the dripping, cherry red mess of your cunt.

He hasn’t even touched you yet.

Not there.

You risk a peek downward, catching on the knobs of his wrist rolling slow and indulgent over the front of his slacks. It’s almost hypnotic, the way his forearm flexes rhythmically beneath rolled up sleeves. One hand on you and the other slowly palming himself as he takes his fill.

Your skin feels aflame all over again. You’d been avoiding meeting his gaze for a reason.

There’s a distinctly self-satisfied glimmer in his eyes, smug, at how you can barely keep your cool just from looking at him when you’re like this, lips quirking up against your chest, despite his mouth being full –

It’s difficult, alright?

How are you supposed to not run hot with the way he’s unbuttoned the top of his shirt to give himself a little air, deep satiny red folding loose around sweat-warmed collarbones, and his lips slick from everything he’s been doing to you? The way he’s touching himself, for you?

The way you’re laid bare and desperate, and he’s still wearing his best dress shirt, handsome and sharp for attending dinner with his parents earlier, still the very definition of put together while you’re exposed in full?

At least he’d lost the sweater.

Somehow he had gotten a little warm, as unwrapping gifts had dissolved into passionate kisses and wandering hands.

It’s absolving, that at least you aren’t alone in the way passion sets your blood to boil, tonight.

His hand finally abandons the sore peak of your nipple, thumbing at where you’ve drawn your bottom lip between teeth, pinched in restraint.

"Meow for me, maličký kočičko. Show me how nice I'm making you feel."

And how could you ever even protest, when he speaks to you in such a low register, voice dragged rough with the depth of his desire, hand already returning to your chest like he can’t help but touch you?

Your face floods with heat, but you crook your wrist, cat paw dangling playfully by your face, and your voice cracks as you –

"M-Myan –"

It would be shameful, in any other setting, how… silly.

Not here, in the quiet comfort of your home, Viktor's appreciative hum filling the space between you both, warm eyes judgement free.

He presses a slick kiss to your nipple before he rests his forehead on your sternum, breath coming just a touch rougher. And at the base of your vision, you can see how he has to stop rubbing himself, withdrawing his hand to rest, searing, atop your opposing hip.

It's flattering. No beating around it, you're drunk on just how much he wants you.

"So good for me, darling," he breathes, hands soothing down your sides, "Such a pretty kitty.” His head raises to look at you, checking in with your readiness. “Just one thing missing, no?"

The open box, once wrapped up tight with the ribbon now cradling your neck, holds the end to the ensemble.

Your tail.

It’s a good quality plug. You’d done your research thoroughly, of course. Sturdy metal, not terribly large, but you’d been pleasantly surprised at the heft of it. Weight that would keep it from slipping during what you’re about to put it through. Soft fur, to match your hair, long and well-crafted. A perfect kitty tail.

You nod, a tiny movement, watching him with wide eyes.

Pleased, Viktor smiles.

He retrieves the plug and lubricant nestled within the box, shifting his weight onto his stronger leg as he curls back down next to your hip, braced leg extending out straight alongside your torso to rest.

“Knee alright?” Your fingers rub fondly at the bolts of the brace over his joint.

“Serviceable, today,” Viktor assures, clicking open the bottle cap. “Just taking the weight off for now.”

The subtle spread of his legs grants you a good view of the way he’s tenting his slacks for you, charcoal fabric unmistakably darker at the tip of his length.

Just from watching you.

An indulgent smile sprawls across your face, unbidden, and you pull in a deep breath. You arch your back, spreading your thighs a touch wider to beckon him back in.

Gold roves over the slick mess you’ve made of yourself, Viktor humming, pleased, as he squirts lubricant into his palm, scooching his hips up and casting his leg out to the side so he can lean down to kiss at your chest again.

“Needy,” he breathes, clearly satisfied with the effect he’s having on you.

He reaches down, gently, to rub at your clit softly with the side of one knuckle, cupping the lubricant to keep it warming in his hands. His motion is soft, barely there, nearly frustrating in the way it draws all the sparking wires of your pleasure sensors to attention without truly indulging you.

Gentle. Delicate. Teasing.

If you had a tail, it would be flicking with impatience.

But you don’t – yet.

Breath shudders into your lungs as you consider what Viktor would do, if he knew the thoughts you’re having. How far would he coax you? Would he make you shake your hips, make you play?

It’s as appealing as it is horrifying, to be so gone for him that you’d act so mindless for him. Makes you flush with heat, slightly mortified. But the pressure against your nerves is sending the sweetest arousal wicking down your spine. It’s peculiar, how the embarrassment and need mix into something far stronger.

It’s got you leaking against him.

The lube is warm when Viktor finally stops teasing your sensitive cunt to press lower, and you could melt for his attentiveness.

He paints slickly across your hole, before his palm upturns and the first joint of his middle finger slides sweetly inside of you.

“Enjoying yourself?”

He’s verifying, again. Ensuring that you’re truly ready and on board, before he presses on.

Never have you loved someone this much.

“Feels good,” you sigh, fingers ghosting over his cheek, reassuring.

Viktor’s lips catch on your skin as he kisses at your retreating fingers.

His hand slides deeper.

You settle your head against the wood floor and take it.

Viktor fingers you open on steady hands, blistering your chest with his affection, lips and teeth returning not just to suck you to slickened neediness, but to leave marks, drawing up gentle bruising across the expanse of your ribs and collar.

It feels like the clock stops, leaving you nothing to do but moan for his efforts, lost in the push-pull sensation of his slick hand stretching you wide.

You blink once, twice, as his hand slowly withdraws –

And the cool metal of the plug wrenches a whine from you, as he delicately positions it for you to sink onto.

It’s a bit wider than what he’d given you with his fingers, air catching in your throat as the chill of the plug soothes through your heated flesh, forging deeper. Your hips buck as it pops into place properly, and Viktor coos, adoring, petting over the soft fur with his dry hand.

“That’s it, perfect,” he sighs, reverent. “Turn over for me, kočičko, let me see you.”

You fumble to remember how to move on pleasure-weak limbs, Viktor cleaning off his hands with the cloth he’d set out beforehand, and together you both shift to leave you inclined between your chest, flush to the floor, and your raised hips, knees spread around Viktor’s legs as he sits behind you.

Spread open, for him to admire.

His completed kitty.

You mewl as Viktor slides his hands up the backs of your thighs, brushing aside your tail to part you open for him. Thumbs settle heavily against each side of your cunt, rubbing gently – then dragging, slow and wet like the parting of ripe fruit, to expose your dripping pussy.

Your breath catches, throat working on a whine.

The roughened pad of his thumb presses against the core of your wetness, prodding, just a tease. Not enough, far less satisfying than what’s to come. You wriggle back against him.

His responding chuckle is gasoline on your neediness, and you huff.

“I know, I know – here.”

Gentle hands guide your hips to the floor, your body coming to rest flat beneath him. He uses his hold to resituate, knees clicking, and settles himself flush against you, body pinning yours to the floor and holding your thighs wide to make room for his hips between your legs.

It feels like your pulse is rushing louder than normal, as you strain to hear the distinctive noise of him clinking with his belt, unzipping ��� and there it is, the blood-hot press of his cock, Viktor nudging the head firmly against your entrance.

The press of it is divine, as he finally pushes past the initial drag of resistance and slides home.

He seems to go on forever.

Logically, you know he can’t even be as deep as he can go, held back at the hips by the curves of your ass, precious inches withheld.

And yet it feels as though the tip of his cock has sunk into the fragile cage of your lungs, pushing out your breath with each bit fed to you.

It’s tighter with the plug. For certain.

After breathless moments, you can feel him come to rest, the soft scratch of his treasure trail sinking down against your tailbone, Viktor murmuring praise into your ear at the feat.

You swallow heavily, every passage in your body feeling tight. “... More, Vik.”

A pause.

Viktor’s right leg shuffles, straightening and evening out his weight a bit. You can feel it flex, tense-release tense-release, against the soft inner flesh of your thigh.

“... Bear with me a moment, zlato.”

Cramps and strain aren’t an uncommon occurrence.

The floor isn’t exactly an ideal place for this. You wouldn’t have suggested it with a perfectly good bed two rooms away, but Viktor had been the one to pounce tonight.

You nod, taking the reprieve to focus on air, capricious lungs fluttering as though they’ve forgotten their purpose. It’s warm, stuffed underneath all of Viktor’s tenderly wrapped limbs, the heat of your entwined bodies seeming to sink beneath your skin.

Just as you get your breath to cooperate, Viktor chases it away again with firm fingers slipping between your hips and the hard floor, burying themselves against your folds and toying with your clit absently.

It's unfair.

How you're close to the precipice, and he's not even moving yet, just murmuring sugar sweet praise into your ears, fingers toying with your clit, uncommitted like he's not trying to push you over, but is damn well succeeding.

You whine in protest, squirming down against the flickering pressure from the pad of his fingertip, and Viktor tuts, turning your chin to drag you into a deep kiss, stuffing his tongue into your mouth to halt your mewing.

It’s somehow more overwhelming, him licking into your mouth, full at literally every angle. Your cunt throbs around him, your ass around the plug, and just – it’s so much.

The defeated whimper that Viktor swallows down from you must taste good, with how he grins into the kiss.

And so, locked together tight, you wait for the pinch in his in leg to subside – his length sitting still inside you, deep enough to brush your cervix in a twinge of pain to wrack a shudder down your spine, pleasure seeping back in stronger in the retreating wake of it.

Stuffed full, completely.

His hips shift out a smidge, testing the movement, rocking gently back into you. The bell at your throat rings as his skin knocks back into yours. Viktor breaks the kiss as you shudder, your very framework short circuiting as the leaking head of his cock seems to wedge itself into every sensitive spot it can.

"Better?" you croak, swallowing harshly – when did your throat get so dry?

"I can move, for now." There's a smugness as he sighs into your nape, grinding you into the floor, as he says, "Though, somehow, I feel quite certain that this won't take long at all."

And he's right.

Even before he rolls your clit between his thumb and forefinger, just the right side of too hard, you’re ready to spill over his fingers and cry – sorry, mew – his praises.

You buck against him, impatient, and he sucks sharp breath through his teeth.

"Gentle, miláčku, or – this may last even shorter than we had anticipated."

You can feel the way he’s tense against you, the way he throbs for the movement. Right there on the precipice with you – not nearly so unaffected by the prolonged teasing as he’d like to let on.

Despite the years, still so affected by you… if you had claws, you'd be sharpening them in the blanket in self satisfaction.

You don't, so you settle for painting Viktor's cheek with needy kisses.

He brushes your fluffy tail to the side, and begins to fuck you in earnest.

His pace is languid, barely pulling out before rocking back in, minor movements of his hips yielding much reward as you gasp for him. Every deep grind shoves his pelvis to your hips, the plane of his lower abdomen shoving the plug firmer inside you. It’s a synchronized push, the way his cock rocking deeper into your body presses everything else deeper as well, full full full on every press.

Your cheek sinks back to the floor, body going weak as his fingers continue to flicker over your clit.

Thick, filling, your head goes blank as you’re finally awarded exactly what you wanted.

A bit dazed, your eyes find a low hanging ornament, the shiny crimson reflection catching in your periphery.

You can see him, in the reflective metal – and he’s not distracted with baubles, like you.

Viktor’s eyes are lidded, the whole of his attention fixed on you, expression achingly fond. His nose brushes against your hair, and he presses a soft kiss to your head – it’s domestic, desperately worshipful, and you’re fumbling for his spare hand that had been steadying your chest, shaky fingers threading through his.

“That’s it, let me take care of you, kočičko,” Viktor sighs into your scalp, squeezing your hand. “So well-behaved, just for me. Good kitty.”

The heat that would have once found its way to your cheeks instead pools low in your hips, mind feeling the peace that comes with being so thoroughly attended to, fuzziness filling in the blanks. You arch your back beneath him, mewling your incoherent agreement.

Viktor noses his way across your cheek, wordlessly coaxing you into a kiss, and that’s what shoves you over the edge.

It seems to burn with a certain warmth, his meticulous caretaking. Everything so carefully designed to get you off, from his fingers deftly circling your clit, slickened liberally from your dripping cunt, to the way he buries himself deep, because he knows just what you like.

The reward to his effort culminates as you seize up around him, sobbing need into his mouth, lips moving uncoordinated, not exactly kissing him through it but unwilling to pull away. Your hips buck in little circles against him, riding out the pleasure, using his cock to encourage every last pulse of pleasure from your trembling cunt.

Viktor curses, rhythm faltering in the sucking clench of your wet heat – “Ah, you’re – Zbožňuju tě, fuck, I – please.” Such sweet words, sentiment you’ve heard a thousand times, murmured hastily against your lips.

Squeezing his hand, you hum, breathless and questioning – whatever he’s pleading for, you’ll give. Your hips rock back to meet where he’s rutting into you, muscles clenching ever tighter as light overstimulation begins to kick in, his hand still coaxing aftershocks against your clit.

But even the barest shifting seems to do the trick, Viktor hissing “yes”, cock throbbing as it begins to pulse inside you, deep and searingly wet. His hips buck erratically, voice tight and crackly as he praises his pretty kitty, his personal pussycat the whole way through.

A rolling wave of exhaustion seems to settle into your muscles almost harder than the orgasm had, both of you going lax, only the soft movement of breathing filling the quiet room.

The cool wood of the floor soothes the flushed hot skin of your bitten-sensitive nipples, smushed into the floor under Viktor’s slight weight as you both regain your senses atop the rumpled blanket, slid askew from all the movement.

Viktor draws a rallying breath, shifting up off of you just enough to let you melt without compression.

Long fingers wrap, steadying, around the sturdy length of your jaw, holding you to the warm span of his chest to help you get some air into your lungs.

The contented noise you let out is barely more than a breath, just the slight tremor vibration of your satisfaction against his fingertips.

Viktor's responding laugh is soft, pleased, achingly tender.

"Look at that, kočičko. I've made you purr."

---

kočička/kočičko - kitty

maličký - little

zlato - gold (endearment)

miláčku - darling

Zbožňuju tě - I adore you

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny commits to the Bit a bit too hard...

So! For the first few weeks after his accident, whenever Danny would try to help the people of Amity Park, he would be treated as a Villain.

No matter if he had just defeated the Big Bad of the Week or saved a Cat from a tree, everybody in town only saw him as a Monster or Villain to he feared and hunted down. Danny was really getting sick of trying to get them on his side, until Sam made a suggestion.

"Why not just...play into it?" She said, barely looking up from painting her nails.

It was just an offhand suggestion, but it stuck with Danny. Why shouldn't he lean into it? The people of Amity Park already saw Ghosts as Evil, and they already assumed he was in cahoots with the Ghosts attacking the town. Why shouldn't he just...play into it?

So he does just that.

From that day on, whenever Phantom was spotted he would dramatically monologue about his Evil Plans, or claim that another Rogues attack on the City was his own act of terror.

Box Ghost destroys the towns Warehouses? It was on his orders.

Ember mind controls masses of Teenagers? All part of his Plans somehow.

Every Adult in Town is kidnapped by Young Blood? Danny gave them over to a friend as a Gift.

He crafts an identity for himself as the most Vile and Horrible Ghost that has ever attacked the City, using his own infamy to cement his legend even more firmly. The town only sees a Monsterous Villain, who has eveded capture near effortlessly for months on end, who constantly attacks their City and gets away with it.

Of course he still needs an excuse for how his plans keep getting stopped, and he gets it when his girlfriend Valerie becomes the Red Huntress. Before that, he just claimed infighting or the Fentons getting lucky, but Valerie becoming the Town's Hero meant he had a plausible excuse for how he kept getting "Foiled".

Val was suspicious, because she was not as involved as Phantom painted her to be, but in the end she had no proof of him faking his defeats. And she couldn't come up with any explanations for why he would do that in the first place. I mean, who would fake being a Supervillain? It had to he something else.

This did come back to bite him a while later, when the Justice League decided that enough was enough, and dispatched Justice League Dark to recruit Red Huntress and help Deal with him.

Coincidentally, that was the same day Pariah Dark attacked the Mortal Realm and sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone.

And honestly? Danny had spent over a Year proclaiming himself as a Villain who commanded Ghosts to attack the Human Realm, and he had heard about the Right of Conquest being Absolute in the Ghost Zone, so why not make it official? Why not overthrow the Ghost King, become the Ghost King, and cement his identity as a Villain while also forbidding Ghosts from entering the Human Realm without his permission?

He may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten that the Villain thing was a disguise...but hey! He was still preventing Ghost Attacks! ...mostly. That's got to count for something right?

He may have let the Bit run a bit too far...

...

Check the tags for more context!

[sleepy-grav3]

Amity Park hates the Justice League but loves Red Hood and sometimes other heroes

A/n: I got this random idea so here it is. Oh, and this is good reveal AU ok?

-------

Due to the Justice League mocking them and ignoring their villain problems that were also publicly interdimensional problems, everyone hates the JL. It got worst with the GIW coming in, who blatantly went against the meta-laws (which included aliens, demons and so much more that weren't human from the beginning). They started to think the Justice League supported them.

In the Infinite Realms, however, there's a revenant that many adored and others respected. He did not hold back against criminals. Criminals that would rape, kill, traffic, sell drugs, and more to people. He especially didn't like when they brought kids into this. He'd avenge people the way they should've been: by promising that their abuser/killer/whatever wouldn't be able to do it again. And in the place they lived in, the only way for that to be possible was by major injury, heavy social outcasting, and/or death. Most prefer the 3rd.

And after how long the Amitians dealt with the attacks which eventually came to a slow once or twice a week type thing, they started opening their minds to the idea of coexistence. Well, further than they had. So when people started to cross over and start making their small haunts in their side of the veil, the Amitian's began to become aware of the popular hero Red Hood. He was part of the undead community, which was trustworthy in everyone's books.

So Amity Park started making merch. Most of it was for Team Phantom, but there was plenty for Red Hood as well. There were other heroes on the side, like for Superboy 1 (who they renamed to Supernova due to their hatred for Superman for 2 reasons, the obvious and that he rejected a mirror-born), and Raven (the half demon).

And with this coexistence, Team Phantom had noticed the positive feedback about killing in the name of vengeance. So they went on the offensive, and after a good year of that, the GIW lost funding for producing no results and just taking up resources. The acts were still there, but nobody enacted them in Amity, and nobody actually knew or believed them outside of the haunted city.

Then the Justice League find out about the hero group there due to tracking merchandise after they started to sell outside of the city. Superman was the guy everyone liked, so he was sent over. He immediately got thrown out and was now questioning who the heck Supernova was and when he rejected him.

Flash? Outcast. Everyone ignored and walked away from him. they had the police, who never did anything or even had to anymore, kick him out.

Green Lanter? Oh the poor guy. He had his ring taken away and thrown out of the city somehow. It took hours to find it.

Wonder Woman, they had to be ok with her. Not at first, but once Phantom had a talk with her and people learned that they were cousins through Clockwork (Kronos) and Pandora, they were ok. ish. Tolerated was the best word and she got the info back to the league.

The batfamily took a trip there, dragging Red Hood along somehow. And right when Red Hood was noticed, a crowd began to form as everyone practically worshipped him. There were many victims he had avenged and an Ancient (Lady Gotham) came and gave him the gifts she couldn't without scaring the guy.

At one point, the poor guy even cried.

[tamelee]

Happy 3/7day 🥰~! 'One day we'll look back on all these memories and smile about it'

Process + detail:

[starmocha]

Growing up Vietnamese means that child me was forced to be ok that our origin myth is literally a dragon marrying a woman/fairy/goddess and then divorcing and splitting custody of their 100 kids (lol what)

What I'm trying to say is I've been brain rotting about dragon!Sylus for the past week and it's getting bad and I will only be ok once I write a dragon AU that has a lot of

Overprotective Sylus

Berserk Sylus that can only be calmed by MC

MATES FOR LIFE MORE SOULMATES SHIT

"I belong to you and you to me."

"I would let the world burn for you."

Egg laying 🙂

More dad Sylus because it makes me sob and yearn so badly pls send help

Even more grossly in love with you Sylus because I plan on contributing to this genre until I die 🫡

Really just lowkey need more Sylus worshipping MC like the goddess that she is type of content

"My queen" is going to make a comeback fr fr

I also lowkey want to write MC as a literal goddess and Sylus is just a lowly human who worships at her altar the altar is my hips but this something for another day maybe

"You've sealed your fate the moment you have harmed her."

Literally I just want berserk Sylus decimating the world for one woman is that too much to ask 🥺

Powerful man who rules over others and is feared and revered 🤝 the one woman who rules his heart and can bring him down to his knees

did I mention more soft Sylus It heals my soul in a godly way 🥹

idk if this seed will sprout into anything since I only have the ✨️vibe✨️ for it and not an actual plot lol 🫠 ok bye back to the other 38299272793 wips that I am a slave to

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt 58 Part 7

The long dining room that held the ornate old dining table that seated way too many people already held  most of the family. Bruce was missing and Damian informed them he was at work, the only other person missing was Jason but it was typical for him to skip out as he didn’t live there and didn’t have the best track record with the rest of the family. That left Damian, Tim, Cass, Duke, and Dick seated.

Damian sat next to the chair that Bruce normally sat in at the head of the table. Tim sat across from Damian followed by Dick, Duke, and Cass. Danny sat next to Damian and Jazz sat next to Danny. 

“So, how was school?” Dick asked his elbows on the table with his head on his hands and a smile. He was the only adult in their life besides Bruce that actually cared about their schooling. 

Danny had actually forgotten that all of this had happened in just one day. The thought was a little jarring if Danny was being honest with himself. He wasn’t sure what to tell Dick, on one hand he was just asking about school on the other… no he wasn’t going to think about what happened right now. Just the thought caused phantom volts to go through his body like he was reliving the accident. He felt a nudge to his foot from the right and looked up to see Damian giving him a quizzical look. He cleared his throat and looked back over to Dick who was giving him the same kind of look. 

“I-I’m, uh… school was fine, didn’t learn much since school just started,” He eventually decided to say after stumbling on his words a little. 

“Dash isn’t picking on you again this year is he?” Dick asked with a concerned look on his face. 

Danny wished it was just Dash, the pain he felt from the portal was a thousand times worse than anything the bullying blond could pull. If it was just Dash, Danny could have just laughed it off and forgotten it probably, but it wasn’t just Dash and Danny couldn’t help but take a deep breath trying to gather his thoughts and calm himself.

He startled as he felt a hand on his knee, he looked to his left to see Jazz giving him a look of sympathy as she rubs her thumb comfortingly on his knee. She then spoke, “Danny you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, Okay?”

Danny gave her a small nod, a small smile on his face. 

Before a new topic could be discussed Alfred arrived with their food and began serving them. Danny loved the food the old butler cooked especially since he was able to do so in a kitchen that wasn’t contaminated. Alfred did his best to make sure everyone was served food to their liking, as long as it was a balanced meal at the end of the day the elderly butler would serve just about anything you’d request.

Danny picked up his fork to begin on his salad, however when he tried to push the fork into the lettuce his hand felt a cooling sensation with pins and needles and his fork went through his hand. He stared at his hand for a moment wondering what just happened. He then picked up his fork to try again and was able to get a mouth full, but when he went for a second bite it happened again, his fork clanging against the bowl again.

“Something wrong Danny? You're staring at your hand weird,” Danny heard Dick speaking and looked up to see Dick staring at him giving him an odd look. 

Danny couldn’t help but rub his neck nervously with his other hand, he hoped to get ahold of whatever this was so no one noticed. Though knowing his luck everyone probably did notice, over the years he and Jazz both noticed that the Wayne family was much more observant than their media persona’s showed. 

Dinner continued and Danny struggled to eat anything as anything he tried to hold fell through his hand frustratingly and Danny couldn’t help but get agitated. 

Eventually his glass he was holding slipped through his hand and tumbled onto the floor shattering into a thousand pieces. Danny let out a frustrated sigh as he stared at the mess he made. 

Before he could stand to clean up Alfred appeared by his side with a dustpan and broom and began cleaning it up, “are you still feeling unwell Master Daniel? Perhaps you should retire for the evening, I will attend to this mess.” Danny begrudgingly nodded his head and made his way out of the room.

He wasn’t alone for long as Damian and Jazz tailed him out of the room. 

“What was that? It looked like your spoon was going through your hand,” Jazz asked after they were a ways from the dinning room.

“Jazz, honestly I don’t know, it felt cold and then anything I tried holding fell through my hand.” Danny brushed his bangs away from his forehead and they dropped back into his face as he dropped his hands back down to his side.

The walk went silent after that, although it didn’t stay for long as Danny felt the cooling sensation again but this time through his whole body, he let out a yelp as he felt his body sink into the floor.

Damian and Jazz looked at him with panic but as they grabbed at his arms or his hands to pull him back up they went through him just as the spoon and apparently the ground now. 

He let out a panicked yell as the floor swallowed him whole, so now he was sinking further down further into the earth. What was going to happen to him? Would he ever find his way back up?

Thankfully he didn’t have to wait long as the cooling sensation left and as gravity took hold of him again he fell. Apparently there was a cave under the manor and he was able to turn back into solid as he felt air again. There was no way he was surviving this, even with new weird powers now was when he’d get impaled by spikes right?

The cave was too dark to make out much but Danny thought he might have seen a computer with several monitors. That didn’t matter now as he finally landed, and he grunted as he landed on a person who also grunted as having a teen land on you couldn’t be the most comfortable.

He knew he was in big trouble when he realized who he landed on, “Batman??”

[hansama]

Day 5 - Lazy...

cozy hours.... u////u) ♥ ♥ ♥

(+ bonus undercut)

@sansxyouweek

without the front stuff bc i subtly worked for that sans booty//////

[nekrosmos]

As promised, there it is ! 17k words lighthearted NikPrice fic <3 These two have been circling around each other for twenty years and are finally doing something about it.

Summary: Things have been different between John Price and Nikolai as of late. The two men have always been close, but something changed. Now, Price is forced to go on medical leave after a disaster of a mission. Nikolai offers a fishing trip, something he knows his favorite captain enjoys, a nice way to relax, and maybe let their relationship evolve.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

Diabolik Lovers More, Blood Vol.3 Mukami Ruki Stellaworth Tokuten Bromide & Short Story Paper

Originally, these were tokutens you'd get for buying Ruki's CD through the Stellaworth store. Nowadays you might find them sold at flea markets or second hand stores. The story is written from Ruki's POV, and takes place right after the ending of his CD, with him and Yui still on the rooftop.

Enjoy the angst (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ)d

(Don't repost anywhere!)

[maniacwatchestheworld]

DPxDC requested prompt (#7)

(@bearerofendlesspain You know... Only after writing this whole thing do I realize that I had read this prompt wrong... WHOOPS! I read it as "Poison Ivy and Tucker are eating blood blossoms to extinction." and not as what was likely intended which seems to have been more along the lines of... "Batman rogue: Poison Ivy. Conflict: Tucker is eating blood blossoms to extinction." ... Which in this particular context are way, WAAAAAY different ideas! I could have saved myself a lot of distress if I had read it correctly... >.> But ah well! Whoops! Hope you enjoy this anyway! Thinking about a plant going extinct like this was quite distressing for me to write! :D)

"Hey. Thanks for helping me out with this, Tuck. And you know... For keeping all of this a secret from Sam." Danny smiled in appreciation to Tucker as they began to break ground with their shovels. "She would probably HATE what we're doing right now!"

"Yeah, of course, dude! It's no problem at all. The more we get rid of these blood blossoms here in Amity Park, the better it is for you and all of the ghosts in the area! Besides, I never want to even think about having to eat another one of these things ever again!" Tucker shivered at the memory of having to eat blood blossoms to save Danny and Sam's lives.

With that, the two got to work killing the bush of blood blossoms. They were digging to expose the roots so they could tear the plant from the ground whole. That made things easier when they would shove the entirety of the plant into a plastic garbage bag along with the other blood blossom bushes they had already uprooted. Once they were done with this area, they would take all of the bushes they had uprooted over the course of the day and bring them to an incinerator where they would destroy the plant- burning the flowers, stems, roots, and seeds all in one fell swoop. They had to make certain to destroy the whole plant, including the roots and seeds, just to make sure that there was no chance of the bush growing back from just its roots or more bushes getting planted in their place. They had been making good progress in wiping out the blood blossoms in this area. They just had a few more to uproot here and they could move on to the next area! They had been at this for months and were getting pretty close to their goal of exterminating blood blossoms in the whole of Amity Park!

But just as they were pulling this bush from the ground, a beautiful red-haired woman started charging towards them. "What do you think you're doing!???" she roared. The woman was clearly frantic.

Danny and Tucker glanced to one another. "Removing a bush...?" Danny answered, not certain what was going on.

"'Removing a bush' ... Alright, kids, stop what you're going and step away from that 'bush' right now!" She demanded. And while Danny complied, letting go of the plant and backing away, Tucker didn't and instead began to haul the shrub from the ground.

"Come on, lady. We're just removing some weeds. This isn't anything to freak out over." Tucker turned to roll his eyes at the woman where Danny could see but she couldn't.

"A 'weed'? A 'WEED'!!? You really don't have any idea what you're doing do you!? Do you even know what these 'weeds' are!?" The woman was obviously distressed, and growing more agitated by the moment.

Tucker let out a flippant breath. "They're blood blossoms, duh."

"Yes. And this specific species of blood blossoms are native and endemic to the Amity Park area!"

"Okay...? So what?" Tucker wasn't entirely certain what she was talking about.

"And they're an endangered species!"

"Oh... I- I didn't know!" Danny swore, suddenly feeling bad about what he and Tucker had been doing.

"So?" Meanwhile, Tucker had the opposite reaction. "What are you, a botanist or something? Who cares if these blood blossoms go extinct?"

"Yes. I am a botanist..." Danny was watching as the horror on the woman's face was slowly turning into fury.

"Tucker...? I think that you should just leave the plant alone..." Danny cautiously advised.

"What!? After all the work we've put into killing off all of these stupid flowers? Now you're starting to sound like Sam! We've been at this months! No way I'm stopping now!"

"MONTHS!???" That was the absolute last straw. These children have been exterminating these poor, defenseless, endangered plants for months!? Dr. Pamela Isley- more famously known as Poison Ivy- had heard enough. These boys were going to pay. "You might not care about these flowers dying, but I do! The land- The Green does! You need biodiversity in order to have a healthy ecosystem, and these flowers play an important role in that! You can't just go around, carelessly digging up and killing innocent, endangered plants without there being... Consequences."

[retributory]

gx is so crazy how do you explain to someone with a surface-level understanding of what yugioh is that the series after dm features a hermaphroditic dragon-demon card spirit fusing their soul with the main character, who also has apparently been continually reincarnating for 100s of years with the card spirit's primary goal being to protect him, and when they embrace to fuse he says they shall never part again because they will forever and always from that point on be one jointed soul and body, and also he commits a borderline genocide against the card spirit race (???) and straight up kills some of his friends (they get better), and also there's a character who got his leg broken during an archeological dig and they replaced the broken bone with a dinosaur bone (???) and now he's like part dino and has fucking dino dna (?????????) and they send him to space as his dinosona to destroy a satellite that is about to destroy the earth (????????????), and also one of the teachers in the school (seto kaiba's duel school for dueling) is a homunculus and when he dies his soul (???) gets eaten by his cat and for the rest of the series he is living (?) inside of the cat's body, and also on top of all that theres a cool rival character as expected of a show targeted towards young boys who looks cool but in actuality he's lame as hell like he canonically stinks like shit cause he doesn't wash his clothes and he joins a cult and they get him out of the cult by reminding him that his real personality is being a rancid little stinky smelly bastard loser and no one likes him and he spends the entire series getting completely dunked on and also his main archetype is these things:

and then you have to concede that at the end of the day it is still an anime for a children's card game designed to sell the cards so if you ever try to explain the impact this had on your developing mind at 7 years old you'll sound sick

[omaano]

"Cassian's face is a brittle thing, no person's eyes should shine as painfully tearful as his. Kino offers his hand and Cassian - bright as the sun, steady as a roc, fluid as water Cassian - accepts it with shaking fingers. He tells Kino everything."

Art for we're spitting off the edge of the world by Xenomorphic for the 2024 Star Wars Big Bang @swbigbang. It is an amazing Canon Divergence Fix-it fic from one of the most memorable moments of Andor onwards, with beautiful prose that fits the mood of the show so so well and will make you feel just as deeply for these characters. Please give it a read and heap some love on my team's amazing and hardworking author, they were such a delight to work with!❤️

[yellowocaballero]

Omg hi Ms. Yellow Caballero big fan of your work <3 For real though, I'm really excited that your sharing the Weekenders, it was a joy to read and I'm bongocat-ing now that others also get the privilege to read it as well.

Referencing your tags, would you please elaborate of ableism in fandom and, like you said, how fandom treats characters with unpalatable disabilities?

Hi Ms. Bud Lite I'm a big fan of you <3

TL;DR A fear of writing characters of highly marginalized identities shields you from criticism and discomfort, but it's actively stigmatizing to people of these identities and as a writer you really need to get over yourself and write The Icky People.

I guess I'll come out swinging on this one and say that fandom doesn't like severe mental illness. (As a note, when I say severe mental illness (SMI) I mean illnesses such as psychotic disorders, bipolar disorder, substance use disorders, personality disorders, etc)

Obviously, nobody likes people w/SMI. It's just insanely egregious in fandom to me, since fanfic writers absolutely love writing characters or HC characters with depression, anxiety, or a specific variety of PTSD That Isn't Scary. People actively reject any character HCs for a SMI. When people write a character with SMI, they nicely downplay it, ignore it, substitute it for a disorder they like better, or rewrite it. It's completely untolerated, in both headcanons and in fanfiction, and every time I bring it up I always get the most interesting reasons why somebody couldn't possibly acknowledge a character's SMI in their writing. I've heard all of these:

"I don't know enough about the disorder to write it accurately." Do research.

"I'm not X, so I can't really depict it." You probably aren't a cis white man, but you depict those guys just fine.

"It feels insulting to the character." There is no shame in having a SMI.

"I can't understand what it's like, so it's better to be cautious and avoid giving characters stigmatized identities." There are LOTS of experiences that you'll never understand because you've never had them - you just don't want to write anything you're uncomfortable with. People with SMI make you uncomfortable, and you don't want to write anything that makes you feel uncomfortable, or think of a comfort character in an uncomfortable way. SMIs are marginalized differently than solely depression/anxiety/The Nice PTSD, and by refusing to write them you're actively contributing to the stigma.

I think (?) I've spoken in the past about how I believe that the rigorous external and internal policing of writing people of marginalized identities is actively harmful towards efforts to increase diversity of experience and background in fiction. A lot of fanfiction writers are just terrified to write people who they can't directly relate with, because they're worried 'they'll get it wrong' and be Big Cancelled. I think this is negative enough when it prevents people from going outside of their comfort zone, but on a macro level I think this results in people refusing to write characters of marginalized identities as all. It's an insidious thought process, and it's reflected in people's unwillingness to diversity their writing or acknowledge canon diversity.

'Well, I don't understand what it's like to be Black, so I don't want to write Black people'. 'I want to project on this character, so I only want to write them with mental illnesses and identities I have'. 'If I write a marginalized character incorrectly people will yell at me, so I won't write a marginalized character who's marginalized differently than me at all'. Can you imagine writing a lesbian character with a boyfriend because 'you feel uncomfortable writing lesbian experiences'? It's blatantly homophobic. But people do that with disability and race/ethnicity ALL THE TIME.

People with SMI notice that you feel uncomfortable with them. It's obvious. They notice when a character has a SMI + anxiety, and you only write their anxiety. They notice when a character displays symptoms of a SMI in canon, but you write it out. And POC notice when the characters of color are written out. I know we all like to project on the blorbos and relate to them, and in the joys of your own head do whatever, but as a writer if you only stick to identities you're comfortable with you are actively being a worse writer. Which to me is the REAL sin lmfao.

[trappedinafantasy37]

It is now time to go down into the sewers and to face Orin. With this run being just Shadowheart and Minthara and no Durge, this definitely feels a lot more personal for Minthara.

The moment we passed the threshold into the Undercity, Minthara drops the alurlssrin confession. Of course, Shadowheart has no idea what that means. But Minthara is walking down into that temple terrified that she will not make it out alive and she wants to tell Shadowheart she loves her in the best way that she can

Did not exactly feel like doing this bullshit of a fight, so I engaged in a little pro-gamer move I like to call, "If they can't see me, they can't fight me." You'd be surprised how many problems you can get out of if you just avoid them entirely!

Behold, the Temple of Bhaal in all its dreadful glory!

Orin is quite excited to see Minthara again! Oh, how she missed her Minthara.

Turns out, Orin is not too happy that Minthara has a new girlfriend now and wants to get rid of the competition. What is it about evil lesbians that compels them to resort to violence to solve their problems?

I have learned quite a lot of things about Orin these past few days. Not only is Orin capable of turning invisible in the middle of a fight, but she can also resurrect the dead! Who knew? I sure as fuck didn't! What else is she hiding?

YES! SHE DID IT! BABYGURL KILLED ORIN ALL BY HERSELF!

Death is too good for Orin, she deserved worse. Minthara deserved the honor of doing worse.

Even though she personally dispatched of Orin, Minthara has a hard time believing that Orin is dead and that her nightmare is over. She is still quite terrified. Once, she had believed that killing Orin would make her feel better. But vengeance is not all its cracked up to be it would seem.

But, it's okay. Shadowheart is here to make it all better. Orin is dead and can never touch her again.

I almost exclusively play Durge and have always found the fight to be easier in a one-on-one duel. Sadly, Minthara is not granted a duel or the ability to confront Orin directly. Stocking up on some spell scrolls and with some carefully targeted attacks, I was able to make it so that Minthara was the one who fought Orin. And she won.

Like I said, Minthara being my only companion on this run definitely made the confrontation with Orin feel a lot more personal for her. She is sidelined and regarded as if her trauma is just an after thought and doesn't get the opportunity to confront her abuser. Perhaps Minthara's character development gets stunted because she isn't given the proper chance to work through her trauma like all the rest. It will forever infuriate me. But, that's what fanfiction is for and I will always give Minthara what she actually deserves in my little stories.

Next up, the Elder Brain and the end of the game.

< The Foundry and Gortash | Doomsday >

[hauntingblue]

CAUSE THIS IS THRILLER (bark), THRILLER (bark) NIGHT

Usopp's outfit is so funny for reals

He got the whole squad laughing

Luffy enablers at it again.... (Robin.... I know.....)

The humor panels so far have been so good!!! God this arc is so funny

HE SAID IT‼️‼️

They look like birds 😭😭

It's just too good... luffy taking cerberus and zombies what can't he do

It's just banger after banger what can I say

Franky feeling for other people because of his guilt complex and sanji lying through his teeth and pulling out the women excuse to seem unaffected... yeah

Look at them.... look how they ate

Omg joyboy reference?? (No)

Sanji is rubbing off on usopp.... also chopper noticing that is sogeking's weapon akdhaksjak

ANOTHER SLAY!!!!!

Their priorities: I'm not strong enough, there isn't enough food, and nami isn't here

Franky going from wanting to kill brook for his jokes to making a joke like his after he hears his backstory... exactly (Robin was already enabling him before the backstory even fdagjsfha)

Sanji is altering his body and actually being on fire to communicate to us how fucking mad he is..... I need more of him going insane I do I do

My god what is he doing ALDJALAJALA

AHSAHAHQHAH THEY ARE THE SAME!!! naaah sanji wouldn't force a woman to be his wife

You cant see me but I am nodding my head in agreement over and over

You don't understand he altered his body to communicate to us how mad he is. He inploded himself and then reconstituted again. Those germa 66 genes are insane

You tell em usopp!!!! The first of many girls you've scared into defeat!!! Akdjqknql

Zoro zombie regressed to not trusting robin akdjaks he's still in there

ROBI-CHO SUPLEX??? HELL YEAAAAAH

There is zosa- [GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT GUNSHOT]

Super frapper gong.... he is doing combo shots with frobin... omg.... parents....

Everything is so fun I'm having such a good time reading.... and then zosan angst like damn I am being fed well here

[romance-rambles]

modern clarence | an appropriate staring distance

While at the beach, you take a moment to appreciate your handsome boyfriend while he's taking a nap—and also when he's not.

1.2k, fluff + established relationship, reader is mc, series: none

NAVY BLUE STICKS OUT TO you the moment you open your eyes.

Your aching shoulder protests your decision to stay as you are, on your side, facing a still sleeping Clarence. Like this, he looks much younger—you're reminded of the time you had to force him to take a nap. Like this, he's simply the cute guy you managed to score not one but multiple dates with, just Clarence, instead of the incredibly smart and wonderful and kind Student Council President.

You glance at the circular table set between your two beach chairs, taking note of his glasses resting primly upon its surface. With him often having to juggle two different kinds of glasses, you'd offered to put them in your bag so that he could pack lighter. Or, as light as he can.

Right now, it's awkwardly squished behind you, miraculously still on the chair only because it's too big to fall out the gap under the armrest.

Filling in the blanks comes as easily to you as the smile on your face when you get to see your boyfriend, nearly the same one on your face right now—and the expression that goes with it is so endlessly fond that you find yourself with the urge to hit something.

Simply put, your boyfriend is a handsome man—the most handsome one, of all the men your keen eyes have gazed upon. And gazed, they certainly have. But even if they didn't have to pick, then they would gaze at only Clarence for the rest of their life..

You almost giggle at the thought, but think against it at the last minute.

But pressing your lips firmly into a thin line has the opposite effect on your budding smile. You imagine you look rather strange to anyone who passes by—what with your mockery of a wide smile and the silent scream building up in your throat, paired with the quiet thumping of your feet against the legrest.

If you were in a more private space, you would resort to kicking instead.

A proper squish to your still warm cheeks as you begin to sit up helps ease up the passion swirling chaotically across your body. You exhale, then allow your hands to slide off your face. One side of it bears the consequences of your actions more than the other.

With a one last longing at the sleeping Clarence, you start to dig through your bag for the only thing in your arsenal that could substitute for a sketchbook.

There are a few miscellaneous promotion emails waiting for you on the lockscreen. A message from Cael asking about dinner tomorrow too. Somewhere between them, there's a notice about the weather, with the temperature from an almost hour ago listed uselessly.

You swipe past them all and hurriedly slip into the camera app.

The hand holding your phone steadies itself against the armrest as you swing your legs over the edge of your chair. A thumb hovers over the capture button, vigilantly awaiting your command. The fingers of your other hand, meanwhile, busy themselves with zooming in on the captivating scenery.

With each pinch, the focus grows ever narrow—until all that remains is Clarence and nothing else.

At one point, you try to zoom into the mole under his eye, but it doesn't make for a very compelling photo. After a few attempts, quite a few of which involve staring at your screen for prolonged periods of time, you reluctantly give up.

Your pout is soon covered up by your phone. When its front camera presses against your upper lip, your gaze is free to wander back to the sleeping beauty beside you once more.

A healing effect, exclusive to him, takes hold of you instantaneously.

Eyes brimming with fondness narrow slightly. You slide off your beach chair, hands on your bent knees as you take a closer look. You can make out the shadows cast by his long lashes and the drool dribbling past his chin.

He's perfect.

You're content to stay there until your knees begin to ache, reminding you insistently that this isn't a very comfortable position to be in. As a compromise of some kind, you adjust your arms atop the nearby armrest.

It really would be better if you'd brought your sketchbook along—but, you think, remembering his workaholic tendencies, would he even bother to take a nap then?

You scrunch your nose up at the thought.

In that moment, Clarence seems sense to your presence. When you look back at him, you're greeted with the sight of confusion in his now opened, but still drowsy gaze. He blinks, and it earns him an amused grin from you.

"Morning," you say, though it's well into afternoon.

That seems to wake him up. His cheeks flush a warm pink, and he hurriedly wipes away the drool on his face, as though you haven't already committed the sight to your memory.

Clearing his throat, he responds in kind, careful to sit up in such a way that he avoids looking at you.

"You don't have to be so close...I can see you just fine."

You laugh, not unkindly. "What if I'm the one who's having trouble?"

For a moment, when he turns back to look at you, he looks alarmed. Then, his shoulders relax to the tune of a sigh, his groggy mind apparently having caught onto the fact that you were joking.

Without breaking eye contact, you reach for his glasses. But as with the issue of walking into a cave without a flashlight, even if you vaguely recall where your destination is, there's no guarantee you'll actually reach it.

"Give me a second," you mutter, your annoyance making your tone a bit too sharp.

You follow your words up with an apology. His glasses held are carefully by the frames as your sheepish gaze connects with his faintly amused one. Clarence reaches out, getting as far as grasping the slanted tips of the frame before the two of you reach a mutual agreement.

"Well." His cheeks return to being a rosy hue. He coughs politely. "If you would."

Cute. Biting your lip giddily, you shake his grip off. A quick once-over of your surroundings before you stand up shows that no one seems to be paying attention to you. And unless your friends and acquaintences have come to together to unlock the secrets of invisibility, no one you know seems to be present either.

Leaning over, you line his glasses up against his face, the tips of his frame brushing against his cheek. It takes only a moment to slot them into place—and you have enough experience with doing so that they don't snag against his ears.

It takes only a moment longer to give him an innocent peck on the lips.

"There," you murmur, not entirely satisfied with the kiss.

His Adam's apple bobs. Clarence adjusts his glasses with an awkward look that suggests he has some kind of solution to your dilemma. You, of course, beat him to the punch.

"Why—" Your voice cracks a little. "—don't we go find a different spot?"

He smiles, narrowed eyes watching you fondly. "I was about to suggest the same thing."