#some Brand goons

[trasho-pando2011]

I've been listening to will wood's cover of prince ali on loop.... /pos

[deadsetobsessions]

Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Pt. 4

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3]

Danny blinked down at the cart, where a red hoodie and pants with red stripes along the side laid over the lip of the cart. Considering they’re in this universe’s brand of Marget- seriously, who names a store Target? If anything in Amity Park was named that, Skulker would have wrecked it in five seconds flat- it’s hilariously on brand. Though, to be fair, this was Gotham’s version too, which meant a lot of security guards (who definitely doubled as goons for the Rogues, Danny was sure) and the vibes were spooky.

“I’m guessing red’s your favorite color.���

Instead of the humorous way he meant the sentence, Jason looked up anxiously and Danny immediately hated himself a little bit more.

“Sh- I can put it back..?” Jason hunched in on himself.

Danny tracked the movement with clearer eyes than he’s had in a long while and ancients, does it remind him of how Dani was in front of Vlad all those years ago. And Danny has spent his entire half life being not like Vlad, so he’s not going to start now.

“Nah, you should definitely add some more stuff. This is no where near enough clothes.”

It really wasn’t. Danny had taken Jason to the store to pick out clothes- “Ther’s a second hand store down the stree’, ya know,” Jason had mumbled when they went through the doors- but the kid had only tentatively put in a small red hoodie and some pants in the cart. Now he had to put this in a way that’ll wipe the stubbornly hesitant look on Jason’s face off.

“Think about it this way, then. You’re repping me now, and while I might be the alley drunk, I’m not the poorly dressed alley drunk, yeah?”

“Oh. Tha’ makes sense.” Jason nodded to himself determinedly, and the kid strode over to the t-shirt section. For all of his confidence, he still glanced back to see if it was okay with Danny.

Well, Dani was the same way before she found her confidence (when she knew Danny wouldn’t abandon her or hurt her) so Danny just gave him a thumbs up before reaching into the rack and sweeping an armful of clothing straight into the cart. Then, he strode over to the jackets and grabbed the ones in Jason’s size and slightly bigger. Oh, he has to grab shoes. He’ll leave that for later, but Danny was going to get those ratty trainers off of Jason’s feet and into the nearest trash can if it was the last thing he does.

The halfa hummed, pausing at the first decidedly not miserable sound he’s made in a while. Dammit, if that wasn’t a sign of Danny’s attachment to Jason, he doesn’t know what would be. To be fair… Danny already committed murder for the kid, which was pretty much something he thought he’d never do, so in for a penny out for a pound or whatever.

He put a significant amount of the budget aside for the section labeled “JASON” so Danny shopped without a worry. Charlie’s ill-gotten assets were a good monetary compensation for his crime of existing near Jason or existing, period.

He picked up toiletries, toothbrushes and the like, when Jason came back sans t-shirt. Instead of a shirt- Danny had actually hoped that Jason would try to get multiple shirts- Jason was clutching a book.

Before he could even voice anything, Danny plucked the book out of his grip and put it into the cart with a disarming smile.

“Oh, good idea. We should get you books too. Wanna go pick out some more?”

“Uh- y’re just gonna get a book, just like that?”

“More than one book, I should hope. You are going to school, right?”

“…Yeah!” Danny couldn’t fathom ever being excited at the thought of school, but as Jason bounced away to peruse the admittedly poor selection of books, Danny couldn’t help but think that maybe he should give this education thing another try. Who knows? Maybe it’ll be less stressful now that he’s not Phantom.

Danny walked to the aisle next to the books and promptly proceeded to shove every single piece of stationary he thought was nice- pens, gel pens, cooling pens and pencils, a thick stack of notebooks, flash cards, etcetera- into the rapidly getting full cart.

Jason came back with three more books- nice, the classics- and froze at the sight of the cart.

“Oh, hey. Getting all of those?”

“Wha’- wha’s wit’ the stuff?”

“School supplies! Quality education starts with quality supplies, you know!” Danny said, a sliver of the grin that used to come so easily to him making an appearance on his face. "Don't worry, I budgeted. See?"

Danny handed Jason a piece of paper, confident that the kid would know if it was good or not.

"Where'd... ya get all of this?"

"Hmm... here and there."

Jason looked up at him, squinting suspiciously. "I hear' Charlie's gone poofed up."

Danny shrugged and put a calculator in the cart. "Oh, I'm sure he's busy."

Yeah, Danny thought vindictively. Busy being dead.

"Ya sound like a walking con," Jason said as he visibly decided to give up fighting against Danny's spending. "We nee' food."

"Gotcha. Well, if you need anything else, just bring it into the cart."

"I want veggies. Frozen, 's cheaper."

Danny nodded, resisting the urge to ruffle Jason's hair.

----

"Hey, you's the Alley Drunk, right? 'Bout that boy you've been toting ar-"

Danny punched the guy in the face, dropping him like a stone. He looked up slowly and swayed.

"Any of you ask about my kid brother again, and I won't bother with being drunk when I hit you."

Rapid nods. Danny shuffled away, satisfied.

----

Two weeks later, after a school day, Danny finds Jason heading to the bathroom with a box of...

"Hair-dye?"

Jason, who was marginally more relaxed and assured that Danny wasn't going to kick him out, nodded.

"Dye's fadin' n' I dun wanna get nabbed on the streets for having red hair."

Danny blinked. "You have red hair?"

"Sure do. See? Roots are showin' again." Jason pointed at his scalp where Danny could see the hair was getting lighter.

"Right. Well- I'll leave you to it. Let me know if you need help, kiddo." Danny said, desperately hoping he hid how off kilter he was feeling well.

"I don't need help, ah've been doing this for ages." The kid went into the bathroom and closed the door harshly. When the lock clicked and the faucet began running, Danny let himself slide down the wall into a crouch, hands cradling his head.

Red hair. Blue eyes. Tan skin. The facial features. The intelligence and empathy.

Danny chuckled hysterically under his breath.

Was Jason this universe's version of Jazz?

"Fuck."

[worldblight]

That's two "don't say suicide jokes" posts on my dash this week. Y'all know you can say shit without feeling it right. Like you know I can say "I am going to jump off a building" without meaning that or having it affect my psyche right? Like. You know that's possible right? That people can say things. To be funny. And not feel bad afterwards

[thewritetofreespeech]

Could I request Ichigo and Grimmjow learning that their s/o managed to survive a dangerous situation without a single scratch?

Ichigo watched the great stone wall collapse under its own weight, once the beam from the Sternritter had pierced it’s hull. It would have been pretty cool, if it didn’t mean that their defenses were down and last he knew [Y/N] was standing right there!

“[Y/N]!” He called out, even though he was all the way on the other side of the battlefield.

Ichigo cut through his opponent and sprinted over to the scene where the dust was settling. Frantically scanning the rumble for some sign of his partner, but woefully optimistic in hoping he wouldn’t find anything. “Phew! That was close!”

The Shinigami turned and saw [Y/N] a few yards away from him. Unscathed, perfectly fine, and examining the rumble like him with a much less panicked look. “[Y/N]! You’re alright! How did you avoid the attack??”

“Oh. Well for one I was more over there,” they pointed towards the spot that they had moved to in the fighting, “plus once I saw the wall start to come down I shunpo-ed it out of there.”

“Shunpo….”

“Yeah, Yoruichi has been training me. She said I’ve been getting pretty good. I thought I mentioned that?”

Ichigo wasn’t sure if they had or hadn’t right now. All he knew was that he was relieved they were ok.

He came up to them and gave them a hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” He told them. Before he let go and they went back to the fighting.

Grimmjow howled with laughter and glee as he cut through another one of these goons. Their bodies splitting open like they were made of paper. Or one of those pinata things from the human world with how they sprayed open when broke. What a time to be alive.

At first, he thought it had to be some kind of joke. Him? Fight for the shitty Shinigami? No way!

But apparently they had lost their idiotic minds, and rolled out the red carpet for him when he came to the Seireitei door. One he was all too happy to paint even redder with blood.

He’d do this little chore for them, then finally kill Kurosaki, and go back home to Hueco Mundo with [Y/N] as champions. This was the best day of his life.

In his hacking and slashing, Grimmjow looked up when he saw one of the buildings fall. Not uncommon in a fight. He thought it was stupid to have buildings that tall anyway. He grinned as he watched on of the Shinigami monuments fall, but then panned down and saw [Y/N] standing near where the rubble would fall. “Shit! [Y/N]!”

There was nothing to be done though. He was too far away. The building was falling to fast. Then by the time be got over there all that was left was rumble and dust. Grimmjow felt his heart stop, then come back to life beating furiously as he was now going to destroy now only these Quincy but everything here for taking his [Y/N] away.

The Arrancar turned to begin his killing spree, when suddenly a large piece of the rumble was dislodged and flew through the air. It barely missed him as he watched [Y/N] climb out of the hole they created. Dusting off their outfit while muttering, “this was brand new…”

Grimmjow watched in amazement but then grinned wildly as he saw that they were ok. Of course they were ok. How stupid of him to thinking a grubby old building would take out his [Y/N].

He scooped them up with one arm to pull them close, still with that grin. “I thought I lost you there for a second.”

“Who? Me?” They asked in amusement.

Grimmjow gave them a kiss before he let go and they both went back to the fighting. His spree might be on hold, but his ‘chore’ still wasn’t done. And Kurosaki was still out there somewhere.

[chrolloluvr]

Hi, happy to see you back❤. I remember in one of your previous works, you mentioned Mammon possibly would babytrap reader. May you please write something on this topic?

♡ Toxic!Mammon: Babytrapping Hcs ♡

Note: Ty! Also she is referring to this post. THANK YOU FOR ALL THE REQUESTS!!! KEEP THEM COMING POOKIES! ALSO IK I HAVENT MADE AN ACTUAL POST IN A WHILE SO HERE YALL GO

Female!reader, AFAB

Warnings: NSFW, toxic themes, creampie, future child, exploiting

He will babytrap you, 100%

As I have said before, Mammon likes the idea of having complete control over you, your life, and everything you do. And what better of a way to do that than making you bear his child?

He gets this magical, invasive idea when talking to one of his work buddies. He was talking about how annoying you were, even though he cannot live without you, when his co-worker mentions how much responsibility and care a woman has for her children. And the idea hits him. If you are just going to sit around lazily all day like a spoiled brat, why not add a child into the mix?

So he will have you prowled up against his chest, his cock basically stuffing you full, as he pistons in and out of your already sore pussy. Seemingly out of nowhere, telling you

"You'd be such a good mother, wouldn't you babe."

"'Wanna see you swoll with my kids, wouldn't that be somethin'-"

Which makes you feel physically ill. Raising a child with Mamm would be basically impossible. You would never raise a child with this man. Would he support you? Would he genuinley care for your baby? Oh Satan, would he even care-

Your thoughts are abrupted as Mammon stuffs you with his seed, finishing inside yours walls and painting them with a loud groan. He gives your ass a harsh slap, as he watches his cum spilling out of you. He looks you in the eyes, and gives you a daunty chuckle. He forces you to look up at him with your tired, exhausted eyes, as he tells you ohoho babe, we aren't finished until i'm done, alright?.

And he keeps that promise, with the goal of getting you pregnant. He knows the public would go feral. The King of Greed? With a child? It gives him a publicity boost, which in turn, is good for his business, and his image.

Once you find out you are pregnant, you have to eventually tell Mammon, to your dismay. Every day, he makes you take an on brand pregnancy test as he watches. He will hold the test while you pee. Yes you heard me right. So when the test says positive one day, he is over the moon. Not at the fact that he is going to be a father, but at the fact that he is now in complete control over you, and that he can use another part of you as a pawn in his twisted fantasy.

The paparazzi have a field day over this news, because he ends up almost immediately making an announcement. There are headlines, candid photos of you going forcefully outside by mammon, etc. Its like a never ending nightmare. And dont be mistaken, he would never let you out of his sights, or get an abortion. He thinks this is too good of an opportunity.

Behind closed doors, he will actually treat you very well. Feeding you, paying attention to your every need, and not letting you lift a finger. He may even go out of his way to find some stuff by himself at the store. He'll will make you go outside with him. But at times he has to do a meeting, or host an event, he will have his goons escort you places, making sure you go public routes, to get a really good look at your swollen belly.

Brings you to meetings during this time, and picking your outfits carefully. He cant have his darling wearing any disgusting maternity clothes. So he will have you perches on his lap while he sits in his seat, embarrassment eating you whole as you see the sins/overlords snickering and bickering presumably at you. He has one hand rubbing your round belly, and one hand rubbing your shoulders as Mammon discusses his newest buisness plan.

He would create a Mammon Baby Care line. He knows he will profit off your pregnancy

"Alright fellas, so i was thinking for the ladys, a Mammon breast pump, hm? Its great right? Oh! And Mammon themed bibs, ha! Sure to make me a bunch, right babes?"

People think, how could you let Mammon knock you up? Of course, millions of girls idolize Mammon, and would want to be with him. But sometimes it feels like you are the only one who is infatuated with him. So you will try to look past the fact that he got you pregnant. You'll just try to be hopeful. But it is literally impossible with the way he keeps sweet talking you, as you snap back into the sad reality that you will be having Mammons child, and raising it. No questions to be asked.

He will lead you to subconsciously feel insecure about you and your body. He will squeeze your newly chubby cheeks, glaze his fingers over your stretch marks newly littering your body, etc. And he definitely does that on purpose.

As you reach up to the half full Nutella jar in the high cabinet in the kitchen, you hear a pair of loud footsteps coming behind you. Its Mammon. You try your best to ignore him, but you cant help but feel uneasy when you feel a pair of familiar eyes on you. It is currently 1:30 AM, and he is in a really tired mood.

"You need help sweets?"

He said with a suckle voice, knowing its affects on you are vast. He looks you up and down, admiring your perfect body in his mind. Your curves, belly, and the look your giving him. It makes him want to just bend you over and fuck your brains out likes theres no tomorrow. But he cant, he just has to be extra agile with you.

"Mamm..."

"Yeah?"

"Do I look fat?"

Ohhh boy. The question you always ask when you feel like he's eyeing you up. he hates when you ask that, because then he has to make up some half assed excuse to why he's looking at you a certain way. When your pregnant, he basically has to walk on eggshells around you.

"You... look like your carrying my child, and I like the sight of that."

"Okay, do you love me?"

He pauses. One wrong answer, and you'll refuse to talk to him for weeks. You two, as of your relationship, are in a really good spot right now. You will basically do anything for him. But you are really sensitive emotionally and physically, due to your hormones.

As he walks up behind you, he lifts you up by your waist, and hold you up to the cabinet, letting you reach.

"Y/N."

He says in a low, gruff voice.

"Yeah Mamm?"

"What the hell kind of question is that. Of course I love you."

He says as you look at him, face to face. You watch his eyes never leave yours, which makes you break off eye contact in a flustered state. You then realize that he is holding you, which makes you feel insecure.

"Okay, I love you too Mamm"

"Alright, now get your sweet treat, and get the fuck to bed, and hurry up. We've got a busy day tomorrow sweets."

He sets you down, and leaves the kitchen, leaving you with yourself, your Nutella and a spoon in hand. You look down at yourself, and your huge stomach. You wonder how you got yourself into this twisted predicament. You mostly worry about your baby's future as Mammons child. Because you are aware that Mammon will only use them for his own monetary gain. You cannot escape this man, even if you try. But you can always pretend you have your own free will, and you could always just eat your silly thoughts away, as Mammon always told you.

[ruizpizzaria]

FAZGANGG ROLL OUT ( FNAF MOVIE RAMBLES + EASTER EGGS !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ) PT 1

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD ! ! ! !

ok first off i cant put into text or words about how i fucking insane i am about this movie so uhm ahahaha im not gonna or i might explode my head off and end up looking like cc's foxy's plush. THIS MOVIE WAS THE MOST LOVINGLY LOVING LOVE LETTER TO THE FANBASE AND I COULD NOT BE MORE NUTS ABOUT IT

SO IM GONNA WRITE ABT ALL THE LIL EASTER EGGS I NOTICED DURING MY WATCH OF THE MOVIE !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ( many more rewatches to come )

UPDATE : PICS ADDED ! ! !

MATPAT AND CORYXKENSHIN CAMEOS ( NO MARKIPLIER D: )

do i even have to say anything about this??

MATPAT SERVING THEORIES SO HARD HE GOT HIRED AS A WAITRESS

CORY BREAKING ANKLES AS AN UBER DRIVER

the theater went ballistic yeah

SPARKY THE DOG CAMEO / FINALLY CANON LOL

MAN OH MAN WHATT I DDID NOT EXPECT THIS ONE.

In the movie we get a full glimpse of a disassembled sparky suit in parts in service -> max gets stuffed inside this suit later on or a suit next to sparky

the diner that matpat works at is also called Sparky's ( lol foreshadowing )

this is still pretty unreal to me.

FNAF BOOK LORE PLAYS A BIG PART IN THE STORY

There's a scene towards the end of the movie where Abby is hiding from foxy and runs to hide behind some arcade games -> reference to the sequence where Foxy is chasing Charlie in the silver eyes (lighting is almost one on one too)

The animatronics realize they're getting manipulated by afton /spring bonnie when Abby shows them the truth through a drawing depicting spring bonnie's true nature -> reference to Carlton showing the dead children that spring bonnie / afton is their enemy through drawing spring bonnie as their killer

CARL THE CUPCAKE

i just find it kinda funny that the guy eaten alive by cupcake was named carl seeing as how carl was cupcake's fanon name

also he can defy gravity too ig

THE SHIRT CARL ( ONE OF THE GOONS WHO CAME TO TRASH THE PLACE ) IS WEARING HAS A PRINT OF FNAF 6'S DRIVING MINI GAME

Chica's magic rainbow from FNAF world gets its own branded ice cream parlor chain :

EVERYTHING ABOUT ABBY HANGING OUT WITH THE FAZGANG.

Spaghetti and Pizza analogy

this one is a bit more obvious but I like how its used as away to illustrate how mike had to choose giving up abby or cc ( i refuse to call him garrett he is either evan or chris. )

Hospitalized Vanessa Theory

Now that Vanessa is hospitalized could she be filling the roles of cc or mike in fnaf 4 ( mainly cuz of hospital hallucinations )-> shes traumatized by the animatronics and could hallucinate back to her days in the hospital ( if she wakes up or if its a dream sequence or something not sure ) ; also could also work since she's afton's daughter

LIVING TOMBSTONE END CREDITS LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

point where i died in the theater and ascended

so yeah yk id say the trap was sprung successfully

I am the most normal about this movie

[raven-cincaide]

The last piece

Summary: In desperation, you search for a set of wings to complete your last-minute Halloween costume. As you do that, you run into a man who seems to think you have more potential to you than a simple university party girl, and he’s dead set on having you join ‘Jujutsu University’- whatever that is… 

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Satoru Gojo Sweetober prompt: 1 Halloween costumes  WC: 3K Warnings: Cursing, alcohol consumption, hint at rude behaviour, bullying, suggestive content and relationship between teacher-student. 

“ I swear they don’t have them!”  

You huffed loudly, couched down into a squat, your hands frantically searching through the piles of plastic bags of the cheaply made costumes carelessly stuffed into the bottom shelf of the tiny pop-up store. You shuffled, reshuffled and pulled out some bags before stuffing them carelessly back into the shelf. Only to repeat the search cycle. 

It was an action that earned you the stink eye from the store attendant and the few other patrons who were patiently waiting for you to be done so they could have their go at the few remaining costumes. You didn’t care about the glares, the coughs aimed to get you aware of your surroundings or even the not-so-subtle comments that there were other people in the world beside you. Rather, you raised your shoulder more and pressed your phone closer against your ear so you could better hear your best friend's awkward, mock, sympathetic laugh,

 “I am telling you, they don’t have a single pair of black wings. I am not even hoping for bat wings at this point; any wings will do. Just give me the frame, and I’ll fix the rest! But they’re cleaned out: NADA, not a single one!”

“Well, then it sounds like you’ll be going in one of those shitty off-brand get-ups. So what will it be, hun? Slutty nun? Slutty pirate? ohh ohh maybe slutty vampire?” “What? And have Emelie and her goons rub it in my face all night? In that case, I may as well just not show up at all” Your voice came out whiny as you shoved the plastic bags away from yourself back into their draw. 

Your eyes filled with hate as you stared at them as though they were somehow at fault for your bad fortune- the leathery bat wings you had spent months creating, designing and sowing had been damaged during a water leak in your apartment. And no matter how much you dried and cleaned them, you couldn’t get rid of the sewer stench. With the Halloween party later that evening, your only other option was to take a ready-made wing frame and re-dress it into cloth and leather. It wouldn’t be fancy, but if you put more emphasis on your make-up and hair, you’d look classy enough. Maybe even like a bat.  

“C’mon don’t even joke-”“-If you’re done, wouldn’t it be nice to let others look? This store has the best costumes in town, and it’d be a shame to let them go to waste after all,” A male voice purred behind you in a playful yet rather rude tone with a touch of scolding to it. 

You jumped to your feet and spun around. Your lips were set into a surprised ‘0’. This was the first time in ages anyone was able to sneak up on you. This fact instantly put you on edge. You studied the man closely, from his snow-white hair and the black mask which hid his eyes to the dark blue uniform that made him look like he was a cosplayer, all ready for trick-or-treating despite being a decade too old for that. Then again, you weren’t in your teens either, so maybe the pot shouldn’t call the kettle black. He was tall, towering over you and looked rather awkwardly unfitting in the pop-up store, as if he and his long legs didn’t quite fit in the tiny space between your crouched down position and the fluffy fake wigs and fur behind himself. 

He was oddly out of place but also comfortable in it.

You released the breath you were holding and stood up. “Whatever”, You huffed as you moved to walk past him, purposefully bumping your shoulder against his. You heard his sharp intake of breath, a murmur ‘interesting’ followed by a stand turning over. You grimaced, a stab of guilt coursing through you- you hadn’t meant to make him stumble or turn something over but you pushed the unpleasant feeling down and just rushed out of the store. 

Lingering behind would only embarrass you further. 

“Okay so there’s one last open gimmicky store, and you should make it before closing time, so you start by going left..”  

Your best friend's voice on the phone was a welcome distraction as your feet carried you down the street away from the commotion you caused. You disregarded the guilt, focusing on a prayer instead. You knew you didn’t deserve divine intervention but you still prayed to whatever god- or demon- that would answer that you’d be able to save yourself from humiliation at the party. You just needed to find a single pair of wings in the last store, that was all. Surely, it is not too large of a request to ask for. 

Apparently, it was; luck, god and the devil were not at your side as you left as the day's last customer. There were no wings in sight of any kind, and the only remaining costume in your size was an overpriced Harley Queen version from Suicide Squad. Mini shorts, fishnets, a torn a little too short t-shirt and a flimsy rain poncho they dared call a jacket. You had to buy a baseball bat, accessories, and heels separately. 

It was an impulse buy full of desperation. Which you regretted the second you stepped out onto the warm afternoon street. But as you heard the store clerk lock the door behind you, you knew the chances of you being able to return it were beyond non-existent. 

“Why such a disappointed face? Want a lollie or something?” It was that male voice again that seemed to pop up out of nowhere. This time he wasn’t behind you, but rather beside you, arms full of bags from different stores; Halloween pop-up store, candy store, Daiso, and a cheap (candy?) pair of fangs poking out of his mouth. 

Before you could respond- be it in apology for shoving him into a stand earlier that day or accuse him of stalking you-  he reached into one of the bags and the next thing you knew, a plastic headband with giant eyeballs, with googly eye irises and fake blood all over googly eyes tied to long spring wires which bounced in all the direction, made it to your head. 

You gaped at his audacity. 

The man merely grinned in response. “Because that’s what you youngsters like, right? Gory creepy things. If not, I have cat ears and pumpkins as well.” 

You stood stunned for a moment, not knowing what was more insulting, a man close to your age calling you a youngster or the audacity he had to put that ridiculous headband onto you. Either way, you reached up and ripped the headband off your head, messing your hair up completely. “How would I know?! I’m not a ‘youngster’,” you snapped back, throwing the accessory at him. 

You saw it hit the ground in front of him and turned on your heel. “Aj aj aj, aren’t you at least going to give it back to me politely? I’ve gone out of my way to do something nice for a stranger, even after she shoves me into a stand” His voice is lighthearted like he doesn’t actually expect you to respond to him. 

But your steps falter, your cheeks flush pink, and the twitch of guilt is back. 

You knew he was, at best case, jesting and, at worst, manipulating you. But you couldn’t deny his words. You did act incredibly rude towards him just because you had terrible luck, which turned your panties in a twist- with no fault of his. Damned guilt. 

Turning on your heel, you walked back to where the Halloween diadem with plastic eyes lay on the ground and picked it up. Another step and you were in the white haired man's personal space. Then you slam it in the only area of him not covered in shopping bags- a part of his upper chest. You feel the silky material of his uniform and the tense rock-hard muscles, and you see the unmistakable grin on his lips. As if he had won the lottery. “Interesting. You’ve got potential and-” 

“Thanks, but not interested; try a pick-up line that isn’t licked off the internet” You cut him off, then turned back around and walked away. You tried to keep your head held high and your expression neutral, even as his laughter echoed off the street walls.

Clearly, he found whatever you said ridiculously amusing. 

Although you found him infuriatingly intriguing, you forced yourself to stop thinking about him the second your best friend called you up about the latest update on the evening's Halloween party. You were determined not to let her know you had embarrassed yourself twice in front of the same hot guy. After all, the more you thought about the odd white-haired man, the more you were sure you would never run into him again. And if she found out how you behaved, she’d never let you live it down. So you just listened to her rant and rave while you headed home with just enough time to grab some dinner and make a few edits to the not-cheap-yet-cheap-looking Harley attire in an attempt to make it less last-minute obvious before it was time to head out. 

The time flew incredibly fast. 

The Halloween party was held at one of the largest party buildings on campus. Normally reserved for formal events, it was completely re-decorated into several floors of madness. Fake cobwebs hung from almost every corner; the windows were tinted; some were completely black with white sticker ghosts stuck on them; others had cutouts of bloody handprints. Doors were replaced with creepy, cut or stained shower curtains, and Halloween-inspired Rave and Techno music pulsed through every floor, from pumpkin smashing in the cellar to the corridor of horror in the attic. It was the biggest and longest party of the entire year. 

As you stood beside your best friend at the drinks table, inches from the semi-packed dance floor full of zombies, witches and vampires, ‘you felt oddly out of place. It wasn’t that your costume stood out amidst the hundreds ‘sexy’ characters: nurse, maid, pirate, clowns and such. It was that it was too generic; there were at least six other almost identical Harley Queen and as the sevenths walked in through the door, you felt your patience hang on by a thin thread. 

The thread grew thinner as you saw Emelie and her group enter as if they owned the entire party. The Childhood-friend-Emelie-who-you-knew-since-kindergarten-but-who’s-mommy -remarried-rich. The one who got her precious popularity by trampling all over you and your image; if she made you the scapegoat and the butt of the joke, no one would have the time to question her and her new money. No, a once friend had become a part of the typical rich girls and guys who thought they were better than the rest of the world because they could wave their daddy’s credit cards. 

You hated them about as much as you were jealous of them. Even if they took it upon themselves to rub it in your face whenever they could, how much better they were than you. Or, their new favourite tactic: reminding you how much you didn’t live up to your own image. You saw them stare you up and down and felt your face flush in the darkroom as they whispered among themselves. 

A daughter of a seamstress who turned up in a cheap-bought costume. 

You saw them make a be-line for you, moved through the crowds that parted for them like the sea for Moses. Inevitably, you knew they wouldn’t let you live it down. You gripped your best friend's arm, a signal that it was time for you two to get out. But she stood frozen in spot. Even as Emelie and her friends appeared in front of you and your best friend, she didn’t bat an eye, ignoring their snarky jabs until they finally looked somewhere behind you. Instantly, their expressions shifted from sadistic to almost flirty. 

You brought the glass of punch to your lips before turning your head toward the door. As your eyes landed on a tall man with white hair, black glasses and a more casual get-up of a white shirt, black pants and a cloak- the only ‘Halloween-y’ thing on him, you almost dropped your punch. His eyes landed on you, and he reached his arm up and obnoxiously waved in your direction.

If you hadn’t noticed him before, you sure as hell did now. 

He made sure he was impossible to miss, after all.  You turned away with a roll of your eyes, but not before you heard his voice cut through the brief silence between songs; “Heeey you never gave me your number, little violent Harley!”

You blinked, then ducked your head down as half of the dance floor turned to face you. 

“You know him?” your friend gasped, and you timidly shrugged your shoulders. 

“ Is he famous or something?” You asked your best friend, who slapped your shoulder with such force that you gaped at her. The look she gives you is as if you’re the stupidest person on earth. Literary. “That’s Satoru” The name didn’t ring a bell. “Satoru Gojo” Oh old money. Now you understand why half of the student body is glaring at you. Why Emelie looked at you like that. The look in her eyes that so obviously said you weren’t even worthy to be in the same space as him. Let alone speak his name or act as ignorant as you did. The look on her face was full of promises, barbed words that would cut deeper than ever before, a promise to promise to drag your image through the dirt even further until you would never recover–

“There you are!” You felt his arm wrap around your lower waist, purposefully following the outline of your skimpy shorts. His long fingers just barely brushed against your bare side; close enough for you to feel the warmth of his hand, but too far away for it to be gravely inappropriate to touch a stranger. It seemed he settled for just slightly inappropriate in this case. You saw his blue eyes flicker between you and Emelie before turning back to you. “It’s stuffy here, lets head outside.” 

Like a knight in shining armour, he ‘stepped in to help you’ while trapping you between a rock and a hard place; you could either dismiss him again and be left in Emelie’s clutches or you could step outside like he wanted you to but causing a sea of rumours in the process. 

Either way, your reputation wouldn’t be the same. 

You nodded and followed him out, the attention you two caused creating enough commotion for your friend to sneak away elsewhere unnoticed. Once outside, he didn’t stop walking but dragged you further and further towards the dark campus grounds until the pounding music was just a light hum in the background. You breathed a sigh of relief before nerves set in. By reflex, you brought the plastic cup of punch back to your lips, but before you could take a sip, he yanked it out of your hold with his free hand. 

“You’re too young to be drinking this” Gojo scolded, taking a large clunk of your alcoholic beverage.

“Hey, I’m of age to drink!” you proclaimed and reached for your cup. He took another clunk before raising it far above your head. 

Damned tall bastard. 

“Just because you’re of age doesn’t mean you should!” the way he said it made you roll your eyes and you made a sudden jump towards the cup. The hand on your waist tightened, supporting you as you jumped and jumped until you finally wrapped your hand around the rim of the plastic cup and yanked it out of his grip. 

You brought it to your lips, a victorious grin, only to realise it was completely empty. “You downed the lot?!” 

Gojo laughed, a sound that didn’t sound mocking or malicious. Maybe it was the alcohol getting to your head, but it sounded almost.. Flirty? As if he read your thoughts, he stopped walking and leaned down closer, stopping inches away from you. You realized his eyes were pretty and that he smelled of alcohol, the fruity, sweet smell of punch that barely hid the sharp tang of alcohol. He was hot, and he knew it, and if that wasn’t enough allure, he was old money. The concept of ‘no’ did not exist in his vocabulary- and it showed.

“Come study under me at Jujutsu University.” He said it so casually, as if it was the most honourable offer you would ever get in your entire life.

“I have a degree I’m working towards” You deflected. However, you were painfully aware of his fingers playfully moving a few inches up your bare waist, to the outlines of your t-shirt and then down again. 

“We’ll get you a more suitable degree” Gojo declared, and you swore his voice dropped lower into a quiet, seductive purr. “One where you don’t need to hide or be on edge all the time,” Gojo spoke as if he could see right through you, through the rude and almost aggressive facade created to protect your most vulnerable and fragile self. He spoke as if he could see you down to your very core, your fears and insecurities all laid bare for him. 

You wanted to lash out at him and tell him he had you all wrong. But the way he held your eyes with an amused twinkle in his own, the grin on his lips that promised nothing but mischief and adventure and the hot hand that never quite stopped moving had you reconsider. His hold on you was tight, demanding, warm, desirable. 

The implications and opportunities were unmistakable.  

You swallowed thickly; your eyes more boldly ran over his features- his hair, his face, up to his eyes, down to his lips, then over the edge of his shirt, lingered on the brand name you couldn’t pronounce, flickered down to the accessories you realized only looked cheap but were made of precious gems and metals, then back up again. You couldn’t help as your lips pulled up into a shaky smirk. “So, do all teachers at Jujutsu Uni hit on their students?”

 “Ahh, but you see my dear, what happens before enrollment; it stays before enrollment, don’t you agree?” He lowered his head a little closer, clearly noticing how your eyes travelled. He had you where he wanted you, not by any altruistic ‘love at first sight’ method, but he’d take what he could get. 

The kiss, when it came, was demanding. Still, you couldn’t help but kiss him back. After all, you weren’t about to disagree with your soon-to-be teacher. Your job was to make a good impression on him for some bonus points. Though, given the way his lips moved against yours, you were certain you already had more in your hands than just your admission covered.. 

When Gojo wants something, he gets it, don't you agree?

Main |Raven | Rules and Requests | Masterlist | Other

All fics are unique works by ©ravencincaide 2024. Do not copy/repost/translate or spread my work(s) without my explicit permission. If you see any of my work(s) reworked/reposted/copied anywhere, please inform me!

[dairy-farmer]

Back to preach the church of my beloved! Civilian Tim! \( ^o^)/ rejoice!

You know who's LONELY? Damian.

He comes to the house of his Father to find not the titan his mother spoke of, but a broken man. One who is pulling himself together, slowly, painfully, with the help of his friends.

It seems SOMEONE ratted him out Clark Kent and Diana Prince, two totally random civilians *cough cough*. And they knew it was SERIOUS if an informant took the time to track down their secret identity. Pulled Bruce back from the edge as only his PEERS and EQUALS can. Yes sir, no emotional support Robin's HERE!

But... that is the problem.

The LAST Robin is now Todd. Who DIED in that uniform. Father is VEHEMENTLY against him wearing anything of the sort. All efforts to prove his worth only serving to somehow prove he is NOT worthy. He... he does not understand.

He takes Titus for another walk.

He is talking him for many walks, these days.

Accidentally wanders closer to a neighboring Manor then he intended. Wait... it's not empty? Aren't the Drake's in Peru? He checks his phone. They are. Then... who?

There, in the sunroom, is Timothy Drake. And he is BEAUTIFUL. Camera in hand, he has set up an artistic display, is attempting to capture just the right angle. Is made soft and golden in the light. Surrounded by lush greenery in Gothams otherwise bleak and stubborn weeds. He manages his shot. Face made soft in his little triumph, a private grin only Damian is there to witness.

Damian's mouth feels dry. His heart races. Face hot.

Everything feels different, after that day.

There is so much to LEARN.

Timothy is top of his class, unsurprisingly. A master of skateboarding. Has entered, WON, many of Gotham's Photography competitions. The compositions he enters are of course, exquisite. Damian studies all of it. His food preferences. How he takes his tea. What clothing he will and will not tolerate. His ideological stances. His internet history. Preferred camera brands.

Timothy is... is alone. Like him. Brilliant and unappreciated. The Heir made for the sake of an heir, who's Father's do not know what to do with them. The Drake's thought to marry him off, once. Before he came out. Are supportive but had no secondary plans. They barely had plans to begin with. Timothy endures.

They... they could be great together. Damian watches. Sees. How Timothy slips on his mask of social grace and affablility. A charming little prince. Perfectly calculated smiles and practiced PR laughs. Made to be loved by the elite. To be without flaw. It exhausts him.

Leaves stiff shoulders and aching feet. He could sooth them. Together, he could so easily imagine how they would lead this city to a better age. Him the Night, Timothy the Prince. Galas and bloodshed and Together. Never lonely again.

No one notices him watching.

He was trained by the best after all. And Bruce is too wrapped up in his drama to look. Damian... fixates. As only his mother's son could possibly fixate.

Tim? His attempts at dating end in abject failure. Every peer he tries to date? Some how their family gets exposed for criminals and they either end up in jail or leaving Gotham. A school mate? Gang or Goon, much the same. Dating site! Maybe date someone OUTSIDE of Gotham, he thinks.

Suddenly ghosted. Or they ALSO turn out to be criminals.

It's getting to be ridiculous.

It's like someone's taking out the competition or something! He throws back a drink in aggravation. Happy 18th Baby Wayne. Wooo. GDI he's gonna die single. Tim hides in a corner and sulks. I mean... what were the ODDS that the last one was a SUPERVILLIAN? Good apparently! Since this keeps happening!

Then? Oh.

Oh Baby Wayne Grew UP. Muscles for daaaays. Is that his favorite cologne? Huh, weird coincidence. Nice though. It's like someone tried to bundle every one of his preferences into one person. Aaand he's being DELIGHTFULLY manhandled back into a quiet corner~ Hello~~☆ Hi~♡

Damian? Here for his husband. They will be courting now. He has come to seduce you. Has everything planned out. Pick a season for our wedding and a preferred venue, he has everything else ready to go. Now excuse him while he eats you out until you cry, Timothy Wayne.

Drags you back to his bedroom and fills you, until you forget where you end and he begins. Fulfills every fantasy you've ever had and creates more you've dared not dream off. Desecrates every single surface we can find, until the whole Manor is painted with us. Then do it again in yours.

Damians long term plan pays off. He is an obsessive lil freak but Tim's deeply kinda into that. Does the AL Ghul name proud! Everyone else is horrified~☆

-🐼🐼🐼

damitim

damian obsessing over tim because of his emotionally absent father makes perfect sense!!

[torchdreemurr]

as Danger Days Summer begins to draw to a close, I'm thinking about how the Danger Days verse is like a saturday morning cartoon, but only for the Killjoys.

obviously you have the aesthetics of the killjoys: their bright colour pallettes and tagline names. they use rayguns instead of regular guns to avoid having the bullets, but the rest of their kit also has a "toyish" feel, with previously mentioned ray guns basically being zappers for example. the fucking music video that focuses in on this aesthetic by having them go through "antics" with their "nemesis" even hones in on this by having it be the "clean" version. there are hordes of faceless goons to mow down in goofy rubber costumes and a bald-headed nemesis. in Goodnight Dr. Death, dr death defying even calls the listeners "children".

however, when the going gets tough, they immediately get serious. the SING music video of course kills them all and has a far more muted colour pallette: maybe like it's a gritty reboot? but then we also get shit like the comics, which is more "real" even if it's not as on the same level of grittiness as SING. flat concepts and shit only get fleshed out while the focus is away from the saturday morning cartoon protagonists.

although it isnt really supported by much, i would like to think that in some way, this is due to the world being so corporatised. Better Living Industries literally sells merch of the killjoys, and one of their enforcers basically just wears a big mickey head. even though they're against them, even the killjoys can't escape being caught up in this branding.

[puppetmaster13u]

Jason is almost offended, because Nightwing just crashed their Self-Care night that the Goons have been looking forward to all month. Hell, he was looking forward to all month!

Honestly Nightwing stumbled across the warehouse on accident and decided to use the chance he was given. The Merry Men are pissed because they finally got their teen-dad crime boss to join in on the bi-weekly self-care sessions and take a break from working! And this vigilante- not even one of the ones from their city but Bludhaven's- is just going to crash it?!

Edit of Have the Kids' Designs HERE lol

Another de-aged Danny au, but he's with Dan & Ellie & Jazz as well.

Jason has like just arrived back to Gotham, caused chaos in the underbelly due to well, 8 heads in a duffle bag, and is just starting his takeover of Crime Alley. It's going good, great even! And then he busts some sort of gang or smuggling ring run by people in white suits and there's... holy shit why do these four toddlers have Lazarus eyes?!

Is that a lab?! And Lazarus waters?! Jason might be a bit mad but he's not an asshole, he's not going to just leave these kids here to the streets. He can't just take them to the Batclan either, and as much as he begrudgingly trusts Talia, he sure as fuck doesn't trust Ras. Who knows what he'd do to four... what are they, pit-kids?

Now he's juggling his whole revenge-thing, running a criminal empire, taking over Gotham's underbelly, and being a single dad. At least the goonion seems to be down for helping, seeing as he's making Crime Alley safer...? .... Fuck he needs some proper sleep

[iguessthisisanewobsession]

It takes a mob part 2

part one is here.

part 3 is here.

Bill was honestly considering the store up as hostage as he glared at the isle.

30 dollars for the cheapest can of formula?? 20 for diapers??

Jesus this had to be considered gouging at this point.

Bill felt another headache begin to throb as he tried his best to decipher the difference between brands. 

‘Not a day of health class Bill,’ he grimaced as he gently shook one oof the cans. ‘Yet here you are.’

Bill never saw himself for fatherhood, he may have pondered it once or twice in his years but only in that sort of abstract way that one ponders throwing your favorite cup. It would be stupid to do, but for a moment or two tempting.

Then he got tangled up into the goon lifestyle and any notion of that pondering went out the building.

There were enough kids in Gotham without father figures, no use accidentally making another one if he slipped up.

‘And look all that thinking led yah Billy,’ his old man droned on in his head, ‘all the work, non’ of the fun. that don’t make a happy man son.’

Bill was half tempted to open that old burner phone; it sat in his breast pocket.

Even if all that would answer would be the machine.

But no, Bill had this.

‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ he pondered as he put the tin in the cart, ‘watching three kids.’

they weren’t his after all.

He found his cohorts in the next isle shaking various items at the kid.

“What in the name of Crime Alley are you two idiots doing?”

“Oh, hey Bill!”

Ken didn’t even turn to face him, what kind of etiquette were they training these guys with? 

“Again, what the fuck are you doin’? I asked you two to pick out a couple outfits for the tyke.”

“annnd we did!” Marv chuckled handing over a bundle of cloth, “We just thought that the kid deserve somethin’ cute for being so good to us is all.”

“Actually Bill, mind throwing in your two cents? which one do you think Dan would prefer the rabbit or the frog?’

Bill pinched his brow,

“I don’t know man, what difference does it make?”

“What difference?! Man, this is his first toy we’re talking about!” Ken exclaimed,

“This is a big deal! If he’s anything like my Me Mah told me I was than he’s going to be carrying it for years!’

Danny for his part blew a bubble with his mouth, great input kid.

“I- the rabbit, I guess! I dunno, maybe he’ll like Alice in wonderland or some shit.”

Marv seemed to perk up at the thought.

“Hell yeah brother! Boss likes those old books anyways, so he probably won’t notice if we borrow a copy for a bit!”

Ken snorted as he casually thew the frog back on the shelf,

“Marven, in case you forgot, Boss is very careful with those books of his. If you want to risk it, I won’t stop you but it’s your fingers on the line man.”

“Aww, anything for our lil’ Danny!”

The clerk raised an eyebrow but kept their mouth shut as the three goons went to pay. They kept their mouth shut as Bill paid in crumpled bills and let them get on their way.

“Yeah, well pass Ken wonderlad will you? This shit isn’t going to carry itself.”

Danny babbled as they tried to sort everything into a carriable position. He shook his new toy too a fro in an almost comical manner. Like he was giving orders before an ops.

Eventually they made headway and started to make their way back to crime alley. Only for Bill to raise a occupied hand to stop the others in their step.

“Wait a moment.. where are we heading? It’ll be suspicious if we head back to base. We clocked out hours ago.”

Marv shook his head,

“Can’t go back to my place, Gwen just got done with a double shift in the ER.”

“Kenny?”

Ken snorted and shook his head as well,

“We can try but we all know Me Mah is packin’ and not scared to point first if she doesn’t expect company.”

“Then where the hell are going to go?”

Bill didn’t like how the two of them were suddenly staring at him,

“No.”

“Aww come on Bill!”

“Nope. Nah ah”

Ken rolled his eyes kicked at his shin,

“It’s just for one night Bill. Tomorrow we can ask around with the other guys, but it’s not like we have many options right now.”

“My apartment is like the least kid friendly place in the neighborhood!”

Danny have a little wine as he shoved his face into Ken’s shoulder,

“Bill..”

‘Fuck…’

Bill pinched his nose as he closed his eyes, if only to block out the puppy eyes Marv was sending his way. For a big lug, it was stupid how effective they were.

“Fine… One night and you two owe me a favor after this.”

The two dumbasses actually let out a cheer loud enough to wake a nearby dog.

Leading the way Bill couldn’t help but wonder if it was too late to go to bar like they planned.

~~~~~~~~~

Hoodlums:

​@reinluna,@confused-moose-child,@mimilikey,@emeraudesfateandfandoms, @dolfay, @boredomfarie, @aconitewolfbane, @withoutcontxt, @onyxlightdragon, @satanicrutialspecialist, @phoenixdemonqueen, @vixen-uchiha, @skulld3mort-1fan, @bytheoldwillowtree, @illusionwolfwriter24r8, @thewonderoflebanon, @vipower001, @autumnwulf,

[hadesoftheladies]

men are so annoying my god. they have some of the dumbest takes on women's sports its obvious how disingenuous they are. "wnba players are jealous of caitlyn clark" and all most of them were saying was that caitlyn has a lot to learn playing professional basketball because it's a genuinely tough game and they hope she succeeds. men just keep belittling how skilled a lot of wnba players are and have been until caitlyn clark. they make fun of the wnba without watching it and then act like they know everything and declare caitlyn the sole saviour of the wnba like we haven't had legends like Elena Delle Donne or A'ja Wilson dominating the game. EMBARASSING!

ALSO they are RIGHT to complain about the racism since most brand deals and sponsorships for wnba players are white women. im happy that female athletes are winning and getting money, but it's telling when 70% of the basketball league are black women and most of the sponsorships are held by white women.

the way these goons take out the nuance and the humanity when discussing women's sports and reduce it to infantile squabbles of jealousy just shows how underdeveloped their brains are. like i know you men like inventing drama out of nowhere, but can you just stick to discussing stats? you're so cringe fr.

anyways!

I can't wait to see Stewie for New York Liberty on the court! Las Vegas Aces, Chicago Sky, Indiana Fever and the Washington Mystics are about to give us one hell of a season coming this May 14th. I'M SO HYPED!

Here are the women to watch out for (IMO because I'm biased and not in order of skill)

#1. Breanna Stewart (Stewie) (New York Liberty)

I pledge allegiance. Sincerely. She's so fun on court and weaves between players like that scene in Korra when she had to learn air-bending by evading spinning doors. I can't wait to see her play! (Next to her wife I'm her no# 1 fan don't joke around with me). Check some of her playing out here.

Also, here's a video of her eating spicy wings and barely surviving (while telling her story):

#2. Angel Reese (Chicago Sky)

After an amazing career in college basketball, Reese finally got drafted to the Chicago Sky WNBA team early this year. She's gotten a lot of hate for being justifiably boastful about her skills but she's remained a strong leader for her teammates and had a positive impact on girls and women everywhere. This is her first season in the WNBA and you can expect a show from her! Check some of her highlights here!

Here's a video explaining why she's so freaking iconic:

#3. Aaliyah Edwards (Washington Mystics)

One of the top picks of this year's WNBA draft, Aaliyah has been a star player for UCONN for years. She is one of the highest rated draft picks of the season! This will be her first season on the WNBA playing for the Washington Mystics. Her rebounds and offences are amazing to witness. Watch her highlights here.

#4. A'ja Wilson (Las Vegas Aces)

One of WNBA's modern GOAT'S. A'ja IS INSANE. She intimidates everyone on court and then the court itself. I literally saw the basketball hoop shaking when she looked at it during one of her games! I swear. It peed itself. Her wingspan and strength make her so formidable like y'all just have to watch herrrr!! Oh yeah, and she won the championship and several MVP titles. Check her out here!

#5. Caitlyn Clark (Indiana Fever)

Does she really need an introduction? Her career in college basketball has been spectacular and special for women's sports everywhere! She was breaking records in HIGH SCHOOL! This is going to be her first season in the WNBA and more eyes than ever will be on the game because of her! Check some of her highlights playing for Iowa here.

#6. Rickea Jackson (Los Angeles Sparks)

While playing small-forward on her college team, Rickea made a name for herself as one of the most aggressive offensive players in women's college basketball today! She's strong and fast and alert and is genuine fun to watch. You won't want to miss out on her debut into the WNBA for the LA Sparks! Watch her game highlights here.

#7. Kelsey Plum (Las Vegas Aces)

Kesley Plum is just one of my favorite athletes of all time! She's so dedicated to her team and the people in her life and it shows. Her joy is so infectious! She is also an incredibly, impressively strong and SKILLED athlete! And she was a big reason why LVA won the season last year. (And hallelujah she's divorcing her dumbass husband rn! hopefully the dead weight makes her an even stronger player!). Watch some of her highlights here.

AND CHECK OUT THIS VIRAL VIDEO OF HER THROWING A T-SHIRT TO HER FATHER WHO IS FAR UP IN THE BLEACHERS!

#8. Sabrina Ionescu

Sabrina and Stewie are an unstoppable duo! Watching them play is electric for me! WHEW! Sabrina has made WNBA history with idek how many records! She is the top in the league in assists, triple-doubles, and steals. SHE'S INSANE!!! SHE'S FUCKING RABID!!!! See for yourself here!

Watch her break the all-time three point record like it's nothing here:

#9. Cameron Brink

Cameron Brink debuts in this season of the WNBA for the Sparks! Cameron has had an amazing college career, but is especially known for her strong defence (and being the god-sister of Stephen Curry). She's bound to have a promising season. Watch some of her highlights here.

The strongest teams (IMO) seem to the Aces, the Mystics, the Sparks and New York Liberty. But there are also strong players in teams like Indiana Fever, Dallas Wings and Minnesota Lynx.

If you don't know which team to support, you could just pick your favourite athlete and choose their team. Some people like underdog teams and some people like top dog teams. Based on last season, I'd consider Indiana Fever an underdog team and Las Vegas Aces the top dog team (they won last season). In terms of best teams? LVA players are SEAMLESS. They move like water and it's magical to watch. But so are the Liberties and the Mystics! I genuinely don't know who to pick between those three.

If any of you gyns watch WNBA, please tell me who you're supporting this season and why!

Anybody who wants to start the season with me in May 14th, comment or reblog and maybe we can organize a discord for it! I'd love to watch this with you guys! And I'm all up for team rivalries.

[venus-haze]

Got No Reason To Run (Homelander x Supervillain!Reader)

Summary: Homelander fantasizes about you, his supervillain arch-enemy, and getting the revenge he so desperately craves.

Note: Female reader, but no other descriptors are used. This is based on some of the headcanons I wrote here. I’m definitely open to writing more of a supervillain!Reader with Homelander. This is short because it's PWP, honestly. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Sexually explicit content which includes masturbation. Non-con, violence, intentional scarring, mild bloodplay, and dacryphilia in the context of a fantasy. Do not interact if you’re under 18.

Homelander’s eyes were glued to the television as soon as the story about you began to run. Rosethorn. More like a thorn in his fucking side. Ever since Vought decided to let you wreak havoc on the streets of New York because having an arch-enemy was good marketing, you were inescapable. Every interview inevitably derailed into questions about you, the Homelander Vs. Rosethorn comic series was almost out-selling his solo ones, and to make matters worse, half of the internet seemed to ship you, the marketing team bafflingly thrilled the first time #Roselander trended on Twitter.

All of those things he could reasonably deal with, but among the people who regarded you as an anti-hero rather than a supervillain, they’d developed a conspiracy theory of sorts that you were somehow as powerful as, if not more so than, him. He often seethed in rage over it. You were only alive because you were useful to Vought. At least, that’s what he told himself after the first time the two of you were face-to-face, and you spit your venom at him, burning through his costume and blistering his skin, to both of your shock. The faint scar on his arm became a point of sensitivity for him, few people had ever seen it. To him, it was a symbol of failure, but even worse, it fed into the paranoia that what your handful of supporters were saying was true.

He watched the news replay the security footage of you and your accomplices, a rotation of other, less powerful supes, robbing a bank. You could secrete incredibly potent, acidic poison through your saliva and breath at will, though most people were too scared to put up a fight and see what damage you could do to the human body. You practically skipped over to the vault, spitting on the metal door which quickly melted into twisted scrap. Your goons wasted no time in collecting the money and valuables that were then ripe for the taking.

Your gaze landed on the security camera that had caught the whole crime in action, and you grinned, staring directly at it—eyes crystal clear and haunting, as if you were looking into his soul as you stalked over like a tiger waiting to strike. 

“Homelander, you can come and get me,” you said with a playful wink at the camera before disappearing in a toxic haze.

Something stirred in him at that. He grabbed the remote, playing the clip back over and over until his cock was half-hard. If he were there, that bank robbery would have gone a hell of a lot differently. He licked his lips as he thought about how he would have made his appearance, crash through the ceiling or laser through the wall—no, he would’ve walked through the doors like he owned the damn place.

He had a firm grip on his cock as he pumped the length, imagining the bank was empty and dark, after hours with no hostages in sight. You grinned at him from inside the bank vault you’d just half-obliterated. It was all a game, as usual, playing cat and mouse until you’d make your escape. Not this time. 

Vought’s orders to avoid grievously harming you were endlessly frustrating, but in this instance, he was the one calling the shots. If he had his way, he’d make sure you faced the specific brand of justice a supervillain like you deserved after years of getting away with countless crimes with little more than bruises and scratches. You were too cocky, too smug. He’d be more than happy to knock you down a few notches and remind you who exactly your arch-enemy was and what he was capable of.

“Homelander, come and get me,” you repeated, voice light and airy, clueless as to what his true intentions were.

He strode across the threshold of the bank, his steps strong and purposeful as he closed the distance between you. The ensuing fight was laughably easy since he was actually trying to cause some damage, and from your place on the floor, disheveled with blood trickling from the corner of your mouth, you looked betrayed. 

You attempted to push yourself off the ground, only to be met with his boot on your chest, his gaze nothing short of mean.

“Do you have any idea who the fuck I am?”

Your confused silence infuriated him.

“Answer me!” he shouted, his eyes glowing red.

“You’re—you’re The Homelander.”

“That’s right. So I don’t know who the fuck you think you are, Rosethorn, but injuring me? Scarring me? I don’t bleed. I don’t break. I sure as hell don’t scar,” he raged, droplets of spit flying in your face. “I can’t let that stand.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered pathetically.

He scoffed. “You can do better than that.”

“Homelander, please, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to scar you. Forgive me.”

His silence was accented with the sound of your racing heart, the blood rushing through your veins. You were terrified. Good. 

“We both know you’re not sorry. You loved every second of it, didn’t you?”

“No, Homelander I didn’t–”

“I think I should return the favor.” 

Your eyes widened, and you began shaking your head frantically upon realizing what he intended to do. He grabbed your arm, and his teeth broke the skin with ease, just a bit of pressure from his razor blade smile to cut you open. Your blood on his lips almost tasted sweet, at least, he imagined it would. 

"Scream all you want, there’s no one to hear you," he would snarl at your weeping figure. Now you had matching scars, now you couldn’t look at yourself in the mirror without being reminded of him too. In a disturbing display of dominance and possession, he licked your open wound. You wailed. He squeezed your arm tighter. You should have been grateful he didn’t try to cauterize it himself. Finally, he released you, but this temporary freedom wouldn’t last.

“You’re a monster,” you sobbed, clutching your injured arm.

“Me? No, I’m The Homelander. I might as well be god. You? You’re only around to make me look good.”

Then he heard it, the way only he can, the sound of your spit collecting in your mouth. He grabbed you by the throat, hauling you to your feet. “Try it, and I promise I’ll take all the time in the world to kill you.”

Teary-eyed, you nodded. When he released your throat, he heard you swallow. 

“Now, how to properly serve you justice for being caught red-handed robbing a bank," he mused.

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a bad idea at all.”

The fear that would glaze over those eyes that he couldn’t get out of his mind made him jerk his hips, and he slowed how quickly he was pumping his leaking cock. He didn’t want to cum, not yet. Digging his teeth into his bottom lip, he exhaled through his nostrils, trying to ground himself.

Where was he? Fear. You were afraid of him, of what he’d do to you, as you should be. You weren’t rivals, the implication that you were as powerful as him was outright offensive. His lip curled in disdain. 

He pushed you against the wall, tearing off your clothing with little effort, reveling in the way your body shook against his as it was suddenly exposed to the cool air in the vault. He reached from behind, his gloved hands feeling how wet you’d gotten. The squelch of leather squeezing into your wet pussy made him moan out loud, but in his fantasy he was in control, mocking you for being turned on and how easily he was able to fit two–no, now it was three fingers inside you.

Tears streamed down your face as you begged him to be gentle, to slow down. Your legs were shaking as you tried to stay standing despite the overstimulation from his strong fingers curling inside you and pumping in and out. He wouldn’t get exhausted, not from brutally fingering you until you were little more than a blubbering mess. You begged him to stop, to at least have some mercy and give you a break.

“What’s the matter? You told me to come and get you, and here I am,” he taunted. “Don’t think I’m even close to being done with you.”

You cried out in response, or maybe you’d just cum. It didn’t matter, this was about his pleasure. In that moment, watching you sob and struggle got his proverbial rocks off, and he turned your head to capture your lips in a messy kiss. Your mouth stayed open as your desperate protests disappeared down his throat. His tongue curled. He wanted to swallow the noise, digest it, let it sit in his stomach. A wave of pleasure rocked through him. He was close, dangerously so.

He pulled his hand from your cunt, soaked and stretched out for him. Your juices glistened on his gloves, and he broke the kiss to suck each of his fingers as you utilized the time to catch your breath, or at least try to while he gave you this short break. You’d taste perfect, and he’d lick his fingers clean, his mind almost wandering to what it’d be like to eat you out.

Instead, he unbuckled his belt, observing the way you clenched your thighs at the sound of the metal hitting the floor as he rid himself of his spandex bottoms. His hands gripped your hips tightly, and you gasped as he pulled your ass to press against his hard cock. You tried wiggling out of his grasp, and he almost laughed. Stupid girl.

“Beg me not to break you in half right now,” he ordered, his voice low and husky.

You choked out your plea through sobs. “Homelander—don’t do this—don’t—please don’t break me in half.”

“No promises.”

With that, he slammed his cock into your wet cunt, grinning to himself as your eyes squeezed shut and you clawed at the wall, a near-animalistic howl tearing from your throat. He kept a steady, unforgiving pace that made your legs finally give out on you, relying on him wrapping a strong arm around your middle to keep you up. He dipped his head down to press a kiss to your temple.

“C’mon baby, you’ve made it this far,” he purred. “Why not see this thing out to the end?”

He kissed down the side of your face, his lips lingering along your cheek and jaw, covering them in open-mouthed kisses as he moaned into your skin. Your pussy clenched around his cock, and when he glanced at the wound he’d inflicted on your arm, he gave a forceful thrust that had you reaching back to grab some part of him to hold onto. 

You were his. You wanted to be his. You wouldn’t have permanently marked his skin if you didn’t. You laid claim to him first. It was only a matter of time before he reciprocated, showing you what you were really in for. Part of him wanted so badly to just kill you, but the part of him that was winning out was buried deep inside your cunt with the intention of filling you with his cum.

Briefly, his mind wandered to keeping you in the tower, maybe in his own suite, tied up pretty like a present for him to come home to at the end of each day, or maybe isolated in one of the supe containment cells where through time and pressure you’d be begging for him to use you, just to get some physical contact.

As much as he could dream, the main event beckoned him back to that bank vault he’d conjured up, his thrusts into you still strong, but more erratic, and he felt your pussy milking his cock as you came, your voice strained as you cried out his name.

Homelander, you can come and get me.

He orgasmed, and you were gone. Back to reality, just him, his hand, and the remote control he’d accidentally crushed. Fuck. He ran his clean hand through his hair, taking another look at the paused frame of you smiling in the security footage. 

Maybe he would come and get you.

[your-regular-toast-enjoyer]

Platonic!Yandere Batman!Damian with new young robin!reader headcannons (extra points if you include uncle Jon and the league somehow)

Platonic! Yandere! Batman! Damian Wayne x Robin! Reader

Damian Wayne x reader. Yandere!Damian Wayne x reader/ Yandere Damian Wayne x Reader

Word count: 5604 words

TW: GN reader, Yandere, manipulation, adult Damian Wayne (based on Batman in Bethlehem), toxic family relations, obsession & Platonic yandere.

Okay, so I imagine that this all occurs at a time when Bruce has resigned and most of the others have moved on in some way, not only leaving Damian as the only one available and willing to take over the Batman cowl, but also making him impossibly alone. Desperate, abandoned and lonely. 

Dick is busy with his life in Blüdhaven, (either married to Barbara or Koriand’r, maybe even with a kid), working primarily as a detective for the Blüdhaven police force. He’s juggling a career, family and, obviously, his vigilante patrols at night, so the time left to visit Damian is minimal. 

Jason still occasionally patrols the streets at night, but he’s mostly out with Starfire and Roy, either playing uncle with Lian/Kori’s possible kid or doing Outlaws missions whenever Chesire/Jade Nguyen pulls herself together enough to take care of her daughter for a while. Jason is too busy getting his own life on track to even start worrying about Damian’s loneliness. 

Tim is probably still in Gotham, although he’s also busy. He’s building his own life as well, either with Bernard or some other girlfriend/boyfriend of his. He’s probably busy renovating an apartment close to the manor, on top of Wayne Enterprise work and vigilante obligations, giving him no free time to come visit for leisure time. Sure, Damian communicates with him over the comms on a daily basis, but it’s not really the same as speaking to someone face to face. Not to mention that shouting orders, descriptions and coordinates probably doesn’t count as a proper conversation.

Alfred is probably dead. I know everyone always jokes that he’s immortal, but even if he was, no one can deal with the Wayne family for more than a single lifetime. So, whether he clocked out naturally or simply, using his all-mighty Alfred powers, just decided to let his life seep out of him like air in a balloon. Alfred is gone.

In Alfed’s place, Bruce has stepped up as a type of off-brand Alfred. He’s retired his superhero alias, and now only has his CEO duties to focus on, which would’ve been a lot for most people, but this is Bruce and to him, it’s too little. So he has learned to cook, hires people to clean the house, make the beds etc. and has, (through observing the best dry cleaners he could possibly hire), learned to wash clothes, attempting to emulate Alfred as some type of coping mechanism for his absence. That doesn’t mean he has the same emotional intelligence as Alfred, it’s still Bruce we’re talking about, but he has the practicalities down. So yeah, Bruce has become an elderly man. But since he still is good old Bruce, that also means that his emotional availability is practically non-existent, made in no way better by the fact that he shut himself in even more after Alfred’s passing and most of his children flying away from the nest. Bruce longs for the old times, longs for the comforting presence of Alfred and the jolly sounds of younger people chit-chatting. Yet, no matter how much Damian might attempt to engage in longer conversations with Bruce, it’s not happening.

If you have a hard time imagining how Damian would look like Batman, think of Batman in Bethlehem. He has exchanged the unhandy cape for the much more practical coat, which not only gives him a more serious appearance but also proves to be a great weapon against the Gotham cold, as well as leaving much more room for gadgets, weapons and, just like his father, a secret compartment for treats. He is a much more menacing and unforgiving Batman compared to his father, never letting a goon get away. He is thorough to the point of near-perfection, which is damn impressive, but it’s also draining on Damian, both physically and emotionally. His father had a horde of Robins, Batgirls and the sporadic extra orphan to aid him in his pursuit for justice, all Damian has is Tim, and occasionally Jason, the latter of which is slowly coming to the realisation that sustaining the same muscle mass as a cow for decades takes a toll on your joints. 

So, even before Damian encounters you, he’s been in the search of someone to make the nightly patrolling of Gotham easier. Damian’s original intention hadn’t been to get a Robin. Actually, he considered “rescuing” an assassin from his mother’s army at the League of Assassins and reprogramming their mind through the various means that had been proven useful in war situations of the past… He did briefly consider asking Dick to contact M’gann for some “healthy” use of mind control. Yeah… Damian is not nearly as morally self-righteous as Bruce, another factor which has driven a wedge between the two.

However, then Damian met you. 

I can imagine that you had recently moved to Gotham, either with your family or alone. You’re probably no older than sixteen at the time of your and Damian's meeting, so if you’re moving to Gotham alone, you’re probably going to be at Gotham academy’s boarding school. But no matter what, you happen to be a huge Batman and, ostensibly, Robin fan. You have posters hung on your wall and photos of you dressing up as Robin when you were younger. It’s not quite Tim Drake-levels of fanboy/girl/person, but you are a bonafide fan.

So, as a fan, you enjoy looking out into the Gotham night, spotting either Red Robin or Batman pass in the air with the wires of their gliders shining in the moonlight. It gives you a sense of safety, knowing that the city has its protectors. Like any other fan, you can’t help but fantasise about how it’d feel to be one of them. How nice it must feel to have the wind hit your cheeks as you zoom through the night sky, and how cool you’d look in one of those fancy superhero suits. 

You have made multiple drawings throughout your youth of yourself as Robin or sometimes even your own made-up hero. You’ll prance around your room alone, listening to music, jumping from your desk chair to your bed to anywhere else with a flat surface, pretending that you’re a vigilante. Heck! I wouldn’t be surprised if you had begged your parents to send you to some type of martial arts as a kid. Begging, praying and practically kissing their feet until they oblige. That is, of course, if you didn’t have parents who had already sent you to karate/Jujitsu/you name it, before you yourself ever came up with that idea. 

I can imagine that the day you and Damian’s ways cross, it’s while he’s out as Batman. For some reason you’ve been left alone to go home/to the academy in the late evening hours, (a recipe for disaster in Gotham). Maybe you had to attend some school-arranged art show/science fair/literature competition and the teachers hadn’t coordinated a way for students to come home/your parents had forgotten that you were out for the night. Whatever it was, you were scared and alone, walking through the streets of Gotham at night. 

As will always happen in Gotham under such circumstances, a large shadowy man emerges from within one of Gotham’s many alleys. He’s neither quiet nor light on his feet, but he is big and the stench of piss, alcohol and decay attacks you before he even has the chance to. You might try to run, but his legs are longer than yours and he reaches you before you get anywhere. Huge grubby hands encase around your collar, heaving you up against a nearby brick wall, the rough texture cutting into the back of your head and back. You might try to use your martial arts knowledge to attempt to fend him off, and you may be successful. However, once you manage to make the man drop you, a swarm of similar-looking men emerge from the nearby alleys, alerted by the noise. They practically lick their lips at the sight of a young and defenceless school student, dumb enough to emerge after dark, it’s practically a Christmas gift for these degenerates. They surround you and you realise that you can’t fight them all, not at once. Your screams for help alert everyone in the neighbourhood, but none will come to your rescue, that’s just how Gotham functions. None…Except for Batman.

Damian hears your scream and within minutes the goons who attempted to attack you are on the floor, heads busted and limbs broken, some scramble away in fear, but end up with Damian’s grappling hook ripping a hole through their legs. The green-eyed Batman is surprisingly efficient, and it takes him no time to get you to safety, scoping you into his arms, as if you weighed less than a feather, and with his grappling hook, he flies through the air to the nearest rooftop. If you hadn’t been so traumatised and shocked by the near-death experience you just had, you might’ve been able to appreciate the experience of literally being saved by your idol. But alas you were, and the shaking of your limbs and rattling of your brain made you wholly unable to connect with reality. 

Damian is patient with you, his glowed hands trace your back as you slowly gather your breath, and once the worst shock is out of your body, he reaches into his breast pocket, where he pulls out a lolly, offering it to you. Now, one should never accept candy from a stranger, but when that stranger is Batman, you can be fairly certain it won’t be tampered with. As such, you accepted the candy with wide burning eyes. Your attempts at slowly peeling away the plastic were a hard-fought battle and Damian had to help you, slowly guiding your hand towards your mouth as you popped the candy into your mouth. The sweetness helped ground you a little, not to mention that it also helped you regain some of your lost powers.

When Damian reckons that you are mentally present again, he prompts you to tell him what happened. With trembling lips, you started to mutter out an answer, about how you had to walk alone because no one was there to get you home safely, how you’d fended one of the men off but then more just came, you almost let a sob slip, but manage to keep it in. Your emotional control and fighting spirit impress Damian, but more importantly, the utter imbecility of the adults in your life makes Damian feel a rage unlike any other.

Damian would take you home in his arms, barging through the front door of either your parents’ apartment or the front door of the academy. He ignores the protest of any adults attempting to stop him, even daring to roughly push them out of the way, as he carries you to your room, following your directions. Once he’s there, he’ll carefully put you on your bed and tug you in like a little kid, no matter your age at the time. He brushes your hair out of your face, (if you have any), and gently swipes your forehead with his thumb. This may seem like inappropriate behaviour for a stranger, but he’s Batman and you’re traumatised and still in shock. It’s his best attempt at calming you down.

Once you’re tugged in, he goes to your guardian, eyes burning with the fury of a thousand suns. He’ll scream his throat dry, reprimanding them for their carelessness, and if you’re living with your parents, he’ll threaten to call CPS on them. He’ll leave the building with a huff and a last warning of revenge should anything similar ever happen again.

It’s after this that Damian has a hard time letting go. He can’t help but constantly fear that you’re being mishandled in some way by your carers. He has nightmares of you in an alley, getting shot like his grandparents or worse… No! It’s so awful that he can’t even bear the thought. These tumultuous emotions will move him to the absolute edge, and to satiate his anxiety, even just a little, he’ll take to stalk look after you. He’ll follow your movements every free minute he has between working at Wayne Enterprises and patrolling the city as Batman, and if you have a bike or pair of shoes you often use, he’ll somehow manage to slip a tracker in there to follow your every move, even when he’s at work or out patrolling. “It’s just to keep them safe”, he’ll tell himself, justifying his actions. But really, whatever his intentions might’ve been in the beginning, they slowly morph into something darker, more possessive. Damian starts to wonder if he might not be a better parent and mentor to you than your real parents. They’re neglectful, he surmises. Either they were the ones who let you walk through Gotham at night, or they simply shipped you off to Gotham Academy, which clearly had no idea how to take care of its students.

Damian might force Bruce to attend his retelling of the night he met you, how he had to follow you around...to ensure your safety, of course! He twists the story and paints your parents as the most horrendous of people, totally disinterested in the well-being of their child, it makes Bruce pity you. Damian suggests that they take you, and make sure that you get a safer environment, with Damian adopting you, in a sense. Bruce isn’t entirely convinced of this, citing that they cannot just kidnap you from your home. However, when Damian mentions how you’re pretty much like Tim, except a better person in every regard, Bruce’s longing for nostalgia slowly creeps back through the cracks. His mind swirls with memories of little Dick, Jason, Tim and even Damian. When was the last time they had a kid, or at least a young person, in the house? It’s been so long that he barely remembers. The house is too big just for two adult men, they could really use someone to spice up the atmosphere. And as such, Bruce is on board… Not that Damian would’ve listened to him if he said otherwise.

  With the decision made that you will become the newest in a long line of adopted Waynes, Damian sets out to get you. He will attempt to make it look natural… like the way Bruce adopted Dick after his parents died… Yeah, wouldn’t it be a shame if all your aunts and uncles suddenly started having issues in their life leaving them incapable of ever taking care of themselves, let alone you if something happened to your parents? 

And wouldn’t it be even more of a shame if… let’s say, after pretty much all adults in your family either died, was run bankrupt or somehow ended up in jail… your parents finally die in a freak accident. Perhaps it’s a car crash due to someone having messed with its tailpipe? Or maybe they went to the cinema, only for the projector to hit them… and only them? It could even just be that while you’re out of the house/at the academy that they suddenly have a carbon monoxide slip in their home, making them silently sleep in the arms of the grim reaper. 

Whatever it is, your parents will mysteriously die, and with no one else in your family able to take you in, the Gotham police department is left at a standstill. If you came from another country than the US, they might talk about sending you back to an orphanage there… anything is better than Gotham… but if you’re American they’ll have no other choice than to start preparations to move you into one of the rat-infested shiteholes calling themselves Gotham orphanages.

Wherever you’re from, you don’t have to wait more than a day before someone unexpectedly shows up at the police station, just as the pitying policemen are trying to help you pack your last stuff into boxes, ready to be sent wherever you need to go. Multi-billionaire, Damian Wayne. Everyone at the station is suspicious about how the green-eyed Wayne heard about the sudden availability of an orphan without any family to go to, but he’s a Wayne, so they’re not surprised… They have a thing for adopting orphans after all. And that’s exactly what Damian proposes!

The broad-shouldered man will bow down to your level, reach out a hand, a gentle smile on his otherwise hardened features, and offer you to join him as his ward. With the horror stories you’ve heard of orphanages combined with the possibility of being adopted by a literal billionaire, you don’t hesitate to accept, albeit reluctantly. Whatever reservations the police may have is waved off by the thought that the Waynes have experience with orphans and they’ll be able to give you a life so much more engaging than anyone else ever possibly could. To most of them, this seems like the perfect ending to your otherwise sad story… If only they knew.

Any legal troubles with adopting you, or if any relative attempts to better themselves to be able to take over your care, will be solved with a wat of cash in someone corruptible’s hands and a slight threat of homicide. To anyone except Damian, the adoption went entirely smoothly and without a hitch.

Once you’re settled in with Damian and Bruce, you’ll come to realise that this life really isn’t all that you expected it to be.  The trauma of your parents’ deaths is still fresh, but Damian expects you to get over it within the first few weeks, he is after all, (in his mind at least), your new “dad/mentor”, you’re not alone…Not like he’s been for the past many years… So why can’t you just settle into your new life with vigour? Or at least not mope around most of the time! 

Bruce is more patient than Damian, he’ll let you open up to him, even if he’s bad with emotions. I can imagine that after the death of your parents, you might develop heavy night terrors, to which Bruce will attempt to calm you by sitting at your bedside until you fall asleep. If you feel especially anxious one night, Bruce will swear that he and Damian will protect you, no matter what. After a while, Damian will take over nightguard duty, realising that he needs to let you open up slowly… or at least not instantly…

Damian might start reading you bedtime stories, even if you’re technically too old for them. His voice is just so calming, its eclectic accent combined with clear brass undertones, both of which remind you of a certain hero… It makes you momentarily forget the fear and despair that came with the death of your parents, so, even if it’s a little infantilising, you appreciate Damian’s presence as you fall asleep, it makes you feel safe. 

If you’ll let him, Damian will trace calming circles on your back while reading, and if you ask him to, he’ll tell you stories from his childhood… the censored versions, he doesn’t want your delicate ears to get hurt by him explaining how he knew a million ways to kill a man before he even turned ten…

You will live a relatively comfortable life with Bruce and Damian for a while, getting introduced to the others whenever they find the time to drop by to meet the new member of the Wayne legacy, as well as getting acquainted with Jon Kent, who, (as Damian’s best friend), demands to be called uncle, despite you not even calling Damian dad… At least not yet. If all this attention on you makes you uncomfortable and feel like a zoo exhibition, Damian will immediately ban everyone except Jon and Tim from visiting for the next long while, even Dick. Tim kinda needs access to the manor for when he and Damian are doing patrol debriefings and Jon refused to not come around, besides he’s so disarming that you’ll probably get used to him quickly… whether or not you end up calling him uncle.

After a while, Damian might come to the conclusion that to truly bond with you he must give you an outlet for your frustrations… And he only knows one way that ever really worked for him… Becoming Robin.

One day, when you come home from school, Damian will command you to follow him in a tone which you had never heard him speak to you with before. It is hard, serious and foreboding, chills will spread up your back and through your fingers, a bad taste will invade the back of your throat and your breaths cut short… What did you do? Was Damian going to throw you back on the path of an orphanage kid? What had you done?

What you did not expect was for Damian to strut up to an old grandfather clock, turning the arrows on the white disk to exactly 10:47. Whether or not you’re the type of person to be easily surprised, there’s no way you wouldn’t be at least a little taken aback when the large clock swung back, revealing the entrance to what looked to be a cave.

You had no context to put it up against and as such your fear took over, making you slowly back away from the hole in the wall that had just been revealed. Damian’s weird behaviour doesn’t make the situation any better either. Really, for you, there’s no telling what’s going on.

Damian notices your hesitation and briefly takes offence until he senses your genuine fear.  “It’s nothing bad, I promise. It’s just a family secret that I trust you enough to know.” He’ll try to reassure you, whether it works or not doesn’t matter, as he picks you up like you weighed nothing and carries you down the metal steps… He doesn’t trust you to not fall and hurt yourself.

Once down in the cave, he’ll reveal to you that he’s Batman, the second one to bear the monicker. He’ll reveal the hero identities of all your “new uncles”, even Jon. All the information that he believes you could possibly need will be loaded onto you in a “brief” thirty minutes monologue. By the end of it, you’re floored… who wouldn’t be? This is probably the last thing anyone would ever consider when moving in with a new family. A bit of your fan behaviour might poke through, as you go from shocked to concerned to almost a little ecstatic… your favourite hero is your adopted father… Wow! The powers above really shone down on you after you had lost everything, huh?

But the pleasant surprises don’t stop there as Damian starts to describe how most Robins lost their birth parents somehow, (with him being the exception), and how most of them worked through this, (not really), by becoming vigilantes. You start to wonder and maybe even hope that he’ll offer the position to you, but multiple times have to remind yourself to stop dreaming, it would be unlikely, right? I mean, you might be able to fight, but not vigilante-level, right? Well… Damian disagrees, and he offers you to become his Robin. In all your star-struck wonder, you fail to see the possessive and obsessive glint in his eyes. You accept on the spot, feeling as if it’s a dream come true.

From then on, your days will be filled with nothing except school, family and Robin training, there’ll simply be no time for friends and going out doing your own thing, and Damian loves it! He believes you’re the safest when you’re within the manor or in his direct line of sight. Anywhere else is dangerous.

Damian will eventually start to suspect the safety of your school…The teachers probably don’t know how to defend you from rogues. Heck! Hey probably don’t even care for your safety! His mind ruminates on the topic for a while, until he decides to let you be homeschooled. He asks around to see if there’re any good private teachers whom he can trust, but there aren’t. None of the people he interviews ever fit his standards: One is too lax, the other too strict, one isn’t clever enough and a fourth doesn’t seem loyal enough. It’s next to impossible to fill out all the demands that the green-eyed Wayne sets up, but there’s one man whom Damian would trust with your education and safety. Bruce… If we’re all being honest, he’s probably a better teacher in all subjects than those who actually studied for the position. It’s actually Bruce’s own idea that he’ll be the one tutoring you, he can work for Wayne enterprises at home, and teach you at the same time, it’s great bonding, and Bruce enjoys your youthful presence so much. It’s a win-win situation for both men… Of course, this will also mean that you’ll become entirely isolated from anyone that isn’t Damian approved. Your social circles are suddenly limited to a bunch of adults, most of whom are vigilantes, hell-bent on keeping others safe… This has the added side-effect of depriving you of anyone who might support your suspicions, should you sound the alarm as Damian puts up more and more safety protocols to keep you out of harm's way.   

With no one else but the family, you become entirely submerged in the vigilante culture and social circles, as you train to become the new Robin. The only people you’ll see on a regular basis will be Damian, grandpa Bruce, uncle Jon and uncle Tim. Perhaps great uncle Clark will semi-regularly swing by with great aunt Lois, but that’s rare, Bruce usually goes to them. You may notice yourself becoming quite dependent on Damian and Bruce’s company and attempt to rebel, this doesn’t fly with Damian. He loves you, but he’s not the most patient of people. He will have no qualms about locking you in your room for hours or even days, only letting you out to do your Robin training.

It’ll take a long time for Damian to let you become a true Robin, he wants to be sure that you’ll be safe and have the skills to defend yourself fully. It wouldn’t even surprise me if you had already reached the age of 18 before you got to actually patrol the city, not that this would change anything, Damian would either pay someone to fake your birth certificate so that you were still his legal ward on paper or maybe just refuse to let you have any more freedom, even if you protest… at that point, he would have had years to manipulate you into being entirely loyal to the family and more specifically him, so I doubt that it’d be a real problem.

Regardless, when he does bestow upon you the right to become Robin, it’ll be the end of a long road. He’ll invite everyone in your immediate social circle to come and celebrate, even some of Bruce’s old colleagues like Hal Gordan and Barry Allen might show up, it’s a big party and it’s all about you. Any fancy dresses or suits you want? it’s yours! The entire house will be decorated in your favourite colours and all your favourite food will be served! At the end of the evening, everyone will be gathered in one of the manor’s large living rooms, and Damian will present you with your very own Robin suit. You’ll be surprised to find that it’s a real-life replica of the ones you had drawn as a child. If you wonder how he got them, Damian will simply say he had found them in the rubbish the day you moved in and he had thought it a shame to throw them out… really he had stolen the drawing from you back when he was still stalking you, having collected the perfect materials throughout your years of training, it had sometimes been a struggle to find fabric that both matched your idea of the costume as well as being practical in a field setting, but he had managed it, and now you had the perfect costume, just the way you’d always wanted it.

Damian is overprotective of you the first many times that you’re out as Robin, to the point where he barely lets you fight, out of fear that you might get hurt. But slowly and with the reassurances of both Tim, Jon and Bruce, he’ll let you fight on your own. His eyes will still always find your form the second he hears a grunt coming from your direction, but he’ll let you handle it unless he deems the situation too dangerous… which he does quite often…

Life will be fine as long as you’re by his side, he’s your Batman and you’re his Robin, and Gotham is delighted by the return of the traffic-cone-themed sidekick. Bruce will look upon you and Damian fondly, and be reminded of good-old times when that was him and Dick, or the beginning of him and Jason… Back before it all got so complicated… which is ironic because the emotions involved in you and Damian’s Batman/Robin partnership are way more complicated, dark and obsessive than any of Bruce’s ever were.

You might wonder why Bruce never opposes Damian’s obvious yandere tendencies, but, in truth, Bruce refuses to see them. After all his sons, (except Damian), moved out, he got too old to be Batman, Alfred died and his entire life practically had to be narrowed down to Wayne Enterprises and occasional visits from his boys, (most of whom he was estranged from), Bruce had lost his spark, his reason to wake up in the morning. However, when you arrived, an entirely new chapter of his life opened up. He no longer felt like he was riding through the last fourth of his life without any meaning. No, with you there, he now had the responsibilities of a grandfather! He had someone to live for and to tell his near-endless anecdotes to! Your sudden appearance in his life saved him, and as such, he couldn’t even begin to let himself see the cracks in the happy facade he depended on to keep his life going. To him, you were all a happy and healthy family, three generations: Father, son and grandchild. And no one could take that away from him, he refused.

As you grow up, still living with Damian and Bruce, switching between the two identities of Robin and y/n, the wealthy socialite, adopted by Damian Wayne, you might start to consider whether you should create something of your own, instead of just living a life that Damian created for you. You might look at photos of the old Teen Titans and Young Justice, all hung throughout the halls of Wayne manor, and think to yourself, “maybe I could do something like that too”.

If you verbalise this idea to Damian, he’ll stop whatever he’s doing, his eyes widening with fear and rage. “You want to leave us?! After everything we’ve done for you?!” You can try your best to explain that you just want to become your own person, but Damian will hear non of it. He becomes frantic and angry, making you sit and listen to him rant about how dangerous it can be for a bunch of sidekicks, not even fully-fledged heroes, to just team up and battle it out. He’ll list to you all the most horrific incidents that happened in both Teen Titans and Young Justice, the people that got permanently, the people that got seriously maimed and those who died horrifically. At the end of his hours-long rant, he’d have instilled sufficient anxiety within you to turn you off to that idea.

After your suggestion, though, Damian might realise that you could be in need of a friend around your age. He doesn’t like the idea, a mix of both jealousy and the fear that they won’t protect you makes him reluctant to seek out some of the other sidekicks, but for you and your mental well-being, he’ll do anything. So he finds a sidekick, it could be Jon’s… actually, it’s most likely Jon’s sidekick, I can’t really see him trusting anyone else. But he’ll go up to them and practically demand that they befriend you. If they’re anything like Jon, and I can imagine that they are, they’ll accept with a big smile.

You may have a hard time befriending Jon’s sidekick, especially if your personalities aren’t compatible, however, they’re the only other person around your age you have, so you’ll have to make do. Eventually becoming best friends, even if you can’t stand them.

Any other need you could possibly have, Damian will always find a way to satiate it without ever giving you your freedom. It’ll be the most infuriating game of pulling rope, he’ll always give in to your demands, but in a way that just further cements your inability to escape him.

Damian will never let you go, not as long as he lives. If you try to get married… hah! No. Not happening. If you wanna go to university, he’ll hire tutors to come to your home. You’re never escaping and Damian isn’t coy about showing his possessiveness and platonic obsession with you. You’re his kid, even if you refuse. Really, you should have just stayed home that fateful night when you met, because now you’re stuck as Damian’s Robin, forever.

A/N: Yes, you can just ignore this, it's mostly for the user who sent in the request.

Thank you for this idea! I hope you like what I did with it!

I'm really sorry that these take so long to come out lately, but I have my final exams in a little over a month, (they start on the 1st of May), so I'm in a pretty tight spot for time recently, I'll obviously become more productive when they're all done, and I do also have another full one shot of Damian in the works. For the anon who requested this, I would just like to say, you had a wonderful idea, and I hope I did it justice, it didn't really go where I had originally intended it to, but I hope that this is what you might've preferred either way.

[nicorenarin]

Phantom Scapegoat: Why P5X Deserves A Chance

Whilst many often shake their head at the concept of a 'gacha' game, it wasn't a surprise to see the Persona series take a shot at such a game. Persona 5: The Phantom X, or just P5X, was released fully in April within multiple regions of Asia and is planned for both a Japanese & Global releases within the future. Aiming to tell a brand new story within the Persona 5 universe, P5X takes place in a parallel timeline where new protagonist, Wonder, leads in the main role with a new group of Phantom Thieves.

As of writing, the game is about to release its 2.3.3 update, which will include an expansion of the side story 'Cross Fate', which covers the original Persona 5 palaces with both the new and old cast, yet it's clear that this story will aim to tie into the main story in one way or another through the developing concept of parallel worlds and timelines. The one thing we have to be aware of is that whilst the main developers are Black Wing Studios, a subsidiary of Perfect World Games, it was recently confirmed in an interview that ATLUS themselves are still helping to construct the narrative and the world of P5X.

My only question is... where was this writing all over the original Persona 5?

It's quite insane that whilst we are only nearing the end of the third palace, P5X takes the world we know of P5 and makes it insanely intriguing. We went from the third arc being centred around a generic 'yakuza' goon to focusing on a struggle for power between teachers that aims to uncover a bigger conspiracy deep within the school that Wonder and some of the other characters attend. Even the second arc, whilst initially presenting itself as a parallel of the Madarame Arc, I think it does it better.

Unfortunately, many on the internet aren't exactly too fond of such a game. It's understandable. A lot of mainstream gacha games such as Genshin Impact are known for their predatory practices in terms of pull-rates, the fear of missing out, etc. Yet, P5X doesn't fall into this pattern, nor does it show itself as a game not willing to listen to its community. As someone who has barely spent a dime, getting all the featured characters and still having currency to spare is a very good thing. The game cares about you and at times will throw summoning tickets and various other items at you either for nothing or for a simple task. They've even recently brought back Tycoon from Persona 5 Royal and taken it online, which has been brilliant.

Harkening back to the earlier point, I believe that a community like the Persona one unfortunately exposed an ugly side of itself with the rising popularity of P5X. The amount of times I see that it's a 'china game' or the reason they won't touch it is because it's 'chinese' feels rather horrible. I think it's perfectly fine to dislike gacha mechanics, but at no point does Joker emerge from the phone, point a gun to your head and force you to enter your credit card details. Many content creators such as JohneAwesome were skeptical of the game, but after playing it? He's now a huge fan! Who would've thought that playing a game like this would change your opinion? The game isn't perfect and many, like myself, have a fair few issues with the game, especially with how it can be better. Yet, I think it's better to try the game for yourself than make it out to be a devil walking.

With collabs with games like P3 and P4 basically confirmed, along with their potential involvement in the main story, P5X has an opportunity to be one of the grandest stories in the entire series and I truly hope it rises to the challenge.

[creepydomme]

Chronically online girl you rant to who feeds you the things she wants you to believe: “you’re a loser just like me,” “none of your friends like you, they all sound like bad people,” “being online is better, nobody here thinks you’re a weirdo like your friends and family do.” Her words are hurtful, but oddly comforting. She’s the only one who understands you! That’s why when she opens up about her coping mechanism of gooning and porn addiction, you want to try it too. She tells you about her nsfw page, and you feel ashamed for looking at her pictures every night, as she will occasionally slip in some posts you don’t know were made specifically for you… You don’t know why, but you’re getting into some weird stuff, and you keep getting deeper and deeper. All day long, your mind is racing with all these dirty, depraved thoughts, things you want to do to yourself, things you want done to you. You don’t remember it happening, but your life has completely flipped upside down; you have no friends, you’ve deleted all your dating apps, you only leave the house to go to work, and when you get home, you’re addicted to the dopamine rush of watching endless porn and constantly refreshing her page in hopes of something new. This was all you ever needed, she was all you ever needed, even if she was busy and you had to pay to talk to her now! Every time you’d hear her sweet words again, nothing mattered, nothing except for the girl who ruined your life- gave you a brand new life.