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luveline · 6 months

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I love the KBD universe 🩵🩵. It’s so soft and comforting. Idk how you always write such gentle slice of life moments that stay soft even when there’s moments of conflict.

I was rereading the series, and in one scene Steve asks reader if they wanna make out, but Avery comes in before they can. Can I request a scene where they do get to make out (nothing super spicy) and spend that time with each other? I know it’s got to be difficult with four kids.

kisses before dinner —you and Steve languish in some rare alone time. mom!reader, 1k

"Hello," you whisper.

He looks up in surprise, eyebrows lifted. That surprise quickly melds to a soft-boned happiness as you sit in his lap —he's splayed sideways on the armchair, and you have to sit sort of sideways on him to meet his eyes.

"Everybody's sleeping," you say, brushing a stray strand of hair from his eyes as the TV light paints him a blur of multicolour. "Even Wren."

He looks up. "How'd you do that?"

You told him to relax for a bit before bath time. He must've gotten distracted by the TV, which he doesn't often get to watch lately, and so you hadn't really minded. Full time childcare is exhausting. It comes to something when you're nearly happy to go to work, though coming home every night is still what you wait for, and it's thanks to him that you can drive home in excitement.

"I'm multi-talented." You nestle your way under his chin, his arms curling around you as though they have a job to do. Firm. Immediate. "Wren went down like a miracle. I only had to rub her back."

"Avery?" Steve asks.

Avery's under the weather, so you let her skip bath time and tucked her in, sending her to sleep with little more than a forehead kiss. Beth was similarly eager for bed, knocking out after half of a story, her hand insistently in yours. Dove, in contrast, took three times as long to settle, but was convinced by the pad of your pinky finger as it traced up and down the bridge of her nose.

"Tactile creatures, your girls," you murmur.

"Where do they get it from?" he asks as he begins to stroke a quarter circle into your back. "Tokyo Olympics called again. Team USA needs you on their roster."

He's declaring you impressive for such a feat as tonight's solo bed time. "The answer's still no. I don't think anyone wants to see me in a leotard."

"I do," he says, kissing the top of your head. His lips soft, his voice the same, he hugs you closer still. "I so do. You look nice in everything."

You could fall asleep like this, in his arms, his lap, your face drifting down his chest as you curl into his warmth. There's nowhere else you'd rather be (besides possibly bed, but even then you'd need it to be with him). "Thanks, Steve."

"You're welcome."

The room is quiet. The house stirs and rain lashes the darkened windows every now and then with the indecisive winds, whistling through tree branches far away. You shiver at the sound and Steve sets your goosebumps right with bigger strokes of his hand, a familiar up and down pressed into your back. Pressure to distract the senses.

"Thanks for doing bed time."

You wave it away. It's nice to be appreciated, but in the face of everything he does you don't want any thank yous tonight. "I just wanted to spend some time with you."

"Yeah?" he asks, sinking lower into the armchair, the majority of your weight following down onto his abdomen rather than his legs.

"I really…" missed isn't the right word. You missed him while you were at work, and time spent with him and the girls is just as worthy and sweet as time alone, but that doesn't mean you can't want both. "I've been thinking about you."

Steve doesn't flinch at your odd wording, the opposite. He knuckles trail loosely to the small of your back, a smugness to the curve of his lips as he smiles, and says, "I've been thinking about you."

Steve usually looks handsome. You've seen him bedraggled, dishevelled, and exhausted, of course, but he puts a majesty into nearly everything he does. He can take a plate down from one of the kitchen cabinets or hike one of your sweethearts onto his hip and you'll remark to yourself about how pretty he looks. This isn't taking into consideration how attractive you find his heart (that list is endless —compassion, dedication, loyalty, etc). The stuff you love about Steve goes on and on and on.

You curl a hand behind his head and card through his hair, not sure what to say. His eyes meet yours. "They don't have a word for how much I love you, H."

His voice rasps with a low pleasure, "I could think of a bunch for you. Only if you want. I'm smart like that."

Your lips twitch. "Please," you say, giving his scalp a playful scratch.

"Endlessly," he begins. "Eternally. Overflowingly." He leans forward to touch your noses together. "Fuck," —he laughs as he searches for another— "started so strong. Uh… infinitely. A whole fucking lot?"

"Loads."

You both laugh, the heat of the others breath like a phantom of a kiss between you.

"Loads," he agrees. "Wickedly."

"Deviously?"

"Ambitiously. A shit ton."

You kiss him gingerly, not worried he won't kiss back but wanting to stay in this moment for as long as you can. "Love you loads," you say against his lips.

With your eyes closed you can't see his expression, but you can guess at what he's doing. Steve likely has his brows sewn together, a grimace on his lips that might suggest the opposite of what he's feeling.

He acts like kissing you is the only thing that he could ever need, that this intermission is painful but absolutely necessary. "I love you," he says. He whispers your name, raising his hand to cup your cheek. His marriage finger rubs a mindless little shape into the soft skin under your eye. "I love you."

You wrap your arms around his neck and hook him closer, smiling into a second and much less ginger kiss.

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oysters-aint-for-me · 2 months

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*full title does not fit: "a dog took my face and gave me a better face to change the world: the celeste cunningham story"

to vote on your favorite fake TV SHOW from 30 rock, go here!

#30 rock #i know if this breaks containment at ALL i'm going to get so many responses telling me that the owls of gahoole is real #i'm keeping it in. as a private joke to myself that i might later regret

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 6 months

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Alright. Alright. I'm calm. I'm good.

Guys, we've got the West family (feat. Bart and Max) in the current Flash run, we've got the Garrick family in their very own mini series and we've got Ace and Avery headlining a nEW SPEED FORCE COMIC (?!?)

This is unprecedented??? We've got three separate speedster series out right now?????? HOLY SHIT?!?

#dc #dc comics #the flash #kid flash #wally west #impulse #bart allen #max mercury #jay garrick #judy garrick #avery ho #ace west

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disenchantedif · 10 months

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Assign the ros songs off the rep album 👀

YES, I SO WILL. Keep in mind Rep gives very "new love interest" vibes so some ROs feature more heavily lol.

Ready for It: MC/Wraith

"But if he's a ghost, then I can be a phantom, holdin' him for ransom; some boys are tryin' too hard, he don't try at all, though"

End Game: MC/Amri

"Reputation precedes me, they told you I'm crazy, I swear I don't love the drama, it loves me; and I can't let you go, your handprint's on my soul, it's like your eyes are liquor, it's like your body is gold"

I Did Something Bad: Amri

"I can feel the flames on my skin, he says, "Don't throw away a good thing," but if he drops my name, then I owe him nothing, and if he spends my change, then he had it coming"

Don’t Blame Me: MC/Theo

"And baby, for you, I would fall from grace just to touch your face; if you walk away, I'd beg you on my knees to stay; don't blame me, love made me crazy, if it doesn't, you ain't doin' it right"

Delicate: MC/Avery

"This ain't for the best, my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me; we can't make any promises, now can we, babe? But you can make me a drink"

Look What You Made Me Do: Amri

"The world moves on, another day another drama, but not for me, all I think about is karma, and then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure; maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours"

So It Goes: MC/Amri

"All eyes on me, your illusionist, all eyes on us, I make all your gray days clear and wear you like a necklace; I'm so chill, but you make me jealous, but I got your heart skipping when I'm gone"

Gorgeous: MC/Charlie

"You should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk; you should think about the consequence of your magnetic field being a little too strong"

Getaway Car: Taisiya

"I'm in a getaway car, I left you in a motel bar; put the money in a bag and I stole the keys, that was the last time you ever saw me"

King of My Heart: MC/Amri

"I'm perfectly fine, I live on my own; I made up my mind, I'm better off being alone; we met a few weeks ago, now you try on calling me, baby, like trying on clothes"

Dancing With Our Hands Tied: MC/Amri

"My love had been frozen deep blue, but you painted me golden; oh, and you held me close, how was I to know that I could've spent forever with your hands in my pockets"

Dress: MC/Viktor

"All of this silence and patience, pining and desperately waiting, my hands are shaking from all this; say my name and everything just stops, I don't want you like a best friend"

TIWWCHNT: MC (feat. The Bestie Squad)

"Here's a toast to my real friends, they don't care about the he said, she said; and here's to my baby, he ain't reading what they call me lately"

Call It What You Want: MC/Amri

"Walking with his head down, I'm the one he's walking to, so call it what you want to; my baby's fly like a jet stream, high above the whole scene, loves me like I'm brand new"

New Year's Day: MC/Avery

"I stay when you're lost, and I'm scared, and you're turning away; I want your midnights, but I'll be cleaning up bottles with you on New Year's Day"

#answered asks #amri singh #avery monroe #??? (the wraith)#charlie ortiz #theo parker #viktor orlov #taisiya orlova #listen amri is just very rep-coded okay??

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outercrasis · 1 year

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Don't Be A Stranger

Pairing: Bruce Wayne (Battinson) x gn!Reader

Word Count/Rating: 4.7k // PG-13

Warnings: references to canon-typical violence/injury

Summary: There's no mistaking that silhouette. It's him in your living room. The Batman.

It was pure chance. Anyone in Ms. Atwood's fourth grade class could have ended up with him as their pen pal. You're not sure you believe that the stars aligned just right or that fate was on your side anymore than it being a true, one-in-a-million fluke. Still, you're the one who ended up with Bruce Wayne as their pen pal.

You didn't know it was him at first. You were only given his first name and a non-descript address. The PO box didn't exactly scream the prince of Gotham. Sometimes you wonder if you would have treated him differently if you had known. There's a good chance you would have.

As young as you were, no one could forget the bold, block letters of the Gotham Gazette from early that September. THOMAS AND MARTHA WAYNE DEAD. The editor didn't even attempt to give it any flair. It was shocking enough on its own.

Your father had been devastated, a large supporter of Thomas Wayne's mayoral campaign. Your mother had regarded Martha as a style icon, in shambles over losing her favorite inspiration. You remember reading the byline about young Bruce surviving the ordeal, trying to comprehend what it would mean to suddenly no longer have parents.

It was news that rocked the entire city and the very next day it's all your classmates could talk about. Robbie Carter said his grandpa thought it was all a conspiracy, Monica Gibbs told you her dad was one of the first officers on the scene and that blood had been everywhere, and Avery Parker told everyone to shut up. You were glad Avery did, as the discussion had been making you start to feel queasy.

A few months later though, when your pen pal was assigned, the name Bruce didn't really click. After all, why would Bruce Wayne of all children be writing to someone in the Gotham Public School system?

Blissfully unaware of your pen pal's true identity, you wrote to him like you would have any other kid your age. You introduced yourself, telling him the important details like your favorite ice cream flavor and what you wanted to be when you were older. He was kind enough to not point out that an astronaut chef was an unlikely job.

His responses were a bit muted in comparison, but you didn't mind. It was clear Bruce was intelligent early on with his large vocabulary and varied topics. More than once you had to look up words in the dictionary or pull a reference to understand what he was talking about. Having to look things up sometimes was far better than a boring pen pal – like Andrew Clark who had a pal that only wanted to talk about a specific species of shark.

At the end of the school year with a parent's permission you could send your home address to your pen pal to keep the correspondence going. It took three days to get your mom to grant her approval and worth every extra chore you agreed to. Even more thrilling was that Bruce wanted to keep writing to you too.

Somewhere early fifth grade you figured out Bruce's real identity, not that he'd ever truly been hiding it. The pieces had been clicking together for a while but the clear mention of his bedroom in the Tower cinched it. There's only one capital T Tower in Gotham and everyone knows it belongs to the Wayne family.

You chose to not acknowledge it. Looking back on it you don't know why – it just didn't seem to make a difference. Bruce was Bruce, Wayne name attached or not.

You both kept writing consistently all the way through middle school. Considering the attention span of kids, especially pre-teens, it was a remarkable feat. From what you knew, you were the only one to keep in touch with your pen pal for so long.

For whatever reason your parents never chose to look over your letters and without a teacher's watchful eye, you could say anything. No topic was off limits. There was no judgment between you two. The bond was sacred, sharing every last thought and feeling. You normally made up for where he lacked in the feelings discussion, where Bruce had plenty of thoughts for the both of you.

High school was where things started to slip. You were caught up in keeping your grades high, extra curriculars, and the drama of who’s dating who. You’re not really sure what Bruce got caught up in – as far as you knew he didn’t even attend the posh boarding school for Gotham's elites.

Needless to say, the established schedule fell apart a little. It certainly wasn’t once a week anymore but you did your best. Even when you didn’t get a reply for a while, you kept sending your letters. Someone had to be clearing out the PO box because none of them were ever returned.

Bruce’s letters came to a complete stop soon after graduation. It coincided with his widely-reported disappearance from Gotham, so you weren’t surprised, but it felt wrong to give up on your correspondence. A pen pal for this long shouldn’t end without a proper goodbye.

You kept at it – the frequency of your post varying with the ups and downs of life. College brought exciting times but also a fair amount of strife. You kept Bruce up to date about everything. New friends, new partners, new addresses when you moved, celebrations of passing exams, excitement over what was on the horizon, grief at the untimely loss of your father, the burden of bills and low wages.

While there weren’t any letters being sent in return, Bruce would find a way to pop up in your life from time to time. You’re not sure what he was up to in his world, but it was enough to know he was reading your letters. A surprise delivery of baked goods at your doorstep filled with your favorite confectionaries, a large anonymous bouquet at your father’s wake, a mystery deposit in your bank account when your bills became a bit too tight.

You'd offer a brief thank you in your next letter, nothing that would embarrass him, but enough that it was acknowledged. After all this time you had a good idea of how to properly toe that line.

Part of you wished for a real response. Even a short missive emblazoned on impersonal Wayne letterhead. You weren't ungrateful for his little gestures, but you missed his voice, his mind. Bruce had the most interesting way of looking at the world. You missed being privy to it – you hoped one day he would let you back in.

—

It's late when you get home. Clean-up at the volunteer shelter took longer than you expected, meaning your trip home was more nerve wracking than usual. Your apartment isn’t in the Narrows, but that isn’t saying much. Gotham isn’t the kind of city to have a truly “safe” neighborhood – the promise of violence just varies from borough to borough. You’d say yours provides an even 50/50 shot.

The mostly-empty subway cars are uninviting despite being the fastest and safest option. With less bodies crammed inside the tubes it means your chances of being targeted go up. Every squeak of the train track seems louder, every rattle a little more threatening. You keep a tight hold on your bag. The streets themselves aren’t much better. Moonlight barely reaches the street, blocked by the thick clouds, and streetlights are inconsistent at best.

You breathe a sigh of relief when you see your apartment door. Six stories up with two locked doors between you and Gotham's nighttime streets means you can finally relax. It's not really paranoia, more so staying vigilant in a dangerous city.

You flick on your small table lamp and fall into the couch. There's an attempt to fling your bag onto the coffee table, but it hits the side and it slumps onto the floor. Not a big deal. You'll grab it tomorrow. The comfort of home settles in, nearly tempting you to close your eyes right there on the couch when your stomach growls. Food, eating, important. Right.

Rolling off the cushions, you catch a small whiff of yourself. You don’t smell bad, but you’re not sure it can be said that you smell good. Your priorities quickly become apparent. Food, shower, then sleep. Anything else is tomorrow’s problem.

Deciding what to eat is easy when there isn’t much in your kitchen to start with. Grocery shopping was supposed to happen yesterday, but with how busy your week has been there’s been no time. Luckily, there’s still enough to scrape together a serviceable sandwich. You eat it over the sink, not wanting to deal with a dirty plate and trying to keep the crumbs contained.

By the time you finish your sandwich, your eyes are half-open. Skipping the shower until tomorrow morning is incredibly tempting, but the idea of slipping into your sheets squeaky clean just barely beats it out.

It takes a little time for your water to heat properly, the result of aging infrastructure and a half-caring landlord. In an effort to keep yourself awake, you pull out a pen and paper and begin to scrawl a new letter to Bruce.

It's been nearly two weeks since your last one. You've gotten through the simpler details when the water has finally heated, abandoning the letter on the kitchen counter.

The choice to shower was the correct one. There's immediate relief standing underneath the warm spray, the stress of your day-to-day melting away. The city's grime sloughs off of you, collecting in the tub. It eventually makes its way down the drain – a clogged pipe that you can do nothing about always leads to an inch of water for you to stand in.

You're nearing the end of your shower when a noise catches your ear outside the bathroom door. You quickly write it off. With an apartment six floors up it would take a worthless amount of dedication to find a way into your place. Any smart thief wouldn't enter the apartment with a light on either. It's nothing.

Rinsing your hair, there's another louder noise accompanied by a heavy grunt. There's no mistaking that. Someone has found their way into your apartment.

Panicked, you quickly grab a towel and wrap it around yourself. If someone is going to break into your place they aren't going to catch you completely naked. Looking around the bathroom, you quickly settle on the plunger for a weapon. It's not much but definitely better than nothing. The thought of the baseball bat perfectly nestled under the edge of your bed taunts you.

The shower is still running, but your water bill is the least of your concern at the moment. If you die in the next ten minutes you won't have to pay it anyway.

Inching towards the door, you mentally walk through your gameplan. Throw open the door, plunger raised, run at the intruder yelling, and rain fury down upon them. Hopefully they'll be so shocked by your deranged appearance that they'll immediately frighten and leave.

You only manage to execute the first two steps of the plan – the shock of what you find stopping you dead in your tracks.

There's a man standing there, but it's not some random drophead like you thought. There's no mistaking that silhouette. It's him in your living room. The Batman.

Before you can really process the insanity of the situation he stumbles, landing hard on one knee. You rush over, terrified that the masked vigilante of Gotham is going to die here on your secondhand rug.

He's heavy. With more than half his dead weight falling onto you, it's a shock you don't completely buckle underneath him.

"Come on, at least get to the couch before collapsing," you grunt, leading him over.

His eyes are partially closed, clearly struggling to keep them open. He's breathing heavily with his suit half blown to hell. You have no idea what to do.

The most intense medical experience you have is shooting someone full of narcan to help prevent an overdose at the volunteer shelter – an experience you're not exactly eager to repeat. You weren't built for stitching up wounds and preventing infection. Clutching your towel, the realization that there is nothing you can do for him is crushing.

Water is becoming a puddle on the floor beneath you, your breaths becoming more ragged to match his with every passing moment. Something about your fear seems to awaken something in him.

"Front– pocket. Auto– injector. Thigh." Every word is a labor. It takes you a few moments too long for his words to click.

"Now."

The force of his words snaps you into action. You launch forward, frantically flipping through all his pockets to find the right one. Front pocket, honestly. He couldn't have been more vague. Eventually, your fingers wrap around something that looks similar to an epipen.

"Twist. Then–" he breathes in sharply, struggling for the next word. "inject."

You can do that you think. His armor is thick, but the fabric on his inner thigh thins a bit. With his sprawled position, it's easy to access.

You twist the injector, watching the liquid turn royal blue before stabbing it into his thigh. He cries out slightly, his body tensing, before collapsing back into the cushions.

"Good job."

His eyes slide shut. His chest continues to rise and fall at a slow but steady pace. The mania of the last few moments washes over you, panic transforming into shock and confusion. How did Batman manage to choose your apartment out of millions? What the fuck.

You stand there looking down at him, suddenly realizing you're only in a towel and the shower is still running. A flush of embarrassment courses through you as realization crashes. There's only the barest hope you didn't flash him in all the commotion.

Drying off and changing as quickly as you can, you bring a clean rag and some warm water over to him. You're guessing whatever he asked you to inject him with is some kind of super-serum but you can't imagine being so filthy is doing any favors. The absurdity of this isn't lost on you. You're really about to clean up Batman's wounds.

It's a slow process. You take your time, periodically switching out the water. At some point you grab a different rag to clean up the torn edges of his armor as well, trying to keep everything as sterile as you can. You do your best – you're not exactly an expert at this.

Even as you clean him up it's difficult to come to terms with the fact that this is really happening. Following the aftermath of the Riddler a couple years ago, Batman went from freakish rumor to celebrated hero overnight. He still seemed more myth than real to you, but there's no question now. He is very real and seemingly very human. You hadn't been sure if the bat motif went deeper before.

You finish up and are left with the conundrum of what to do next. You're more exhausted than ever, but leaving him here just seems wrong. In the end you settle on dragging over your moon chair and grabbing a book. This isn't weird right? You're just making sure he doesn't die or convulse or something.

It was foolish of you to think you could stay awake. Between your preexisting fatigue and the adrenaline come-down, you don't make it through a paragraph before falling asleep.

—

The first few rays of sunlight streaming in your windows are what wakes you. There’s a moment of panic before registering that you’re just in your living room, safe and sound. You stretch and rub at the tight spot in your neck. Falling asleep curled up like that is never a good idea.

Your eyes drift over to the couch and you freeze. He isn’t there. Had you imagined it all? Was last night actually some incredibly vivid dream or hallucination brought on by exhaustion?

That’s the final straw. No more doubles that roll into volunteer shelter shifts. Your body can’t handle that toll anymore. You give another big stretch, your spine popping, and let out a small yelp when you turn to the kitchen and see Batman standing there.

If last night seemed ridiculous then you don’t even know what to call this. What is there to say or think when the city’s masked vigilante is standing in your kitchen like he belongs there? And how the hell is he even standing after the condition he was in?

He doesn’t say anything. You’re not sure what you expected. You don’t know what to say either. It doesn’t even feel like he’s trying to psych you out or anything, he’s simply… quiet. His eyes return to your letter that he’s holding.

“Hey! That’s private!”

You rush into the kitchen, pulling the letter out from his hands. Gotham’s protector or not, he doesn’t have the right to start reading your private correspondence.

He doesn’t seem all that bothered by your anger. "Sorry, I probably shouldn’t read ahead."

You stare at him in slight confusion and wonder as the pieces click together. Holy shit. How did you not put it together before? It seems so obvious now – like you’re in the fifth grade again realizing your pen pal Bruce is Bruce Wayne.

Bruce Wayne is Batman.

His letters stopped years ago, but you would still venture to say you know Bruce Wayne better than anyone else and it all fits. More wealth than he knows what to do with, a desire to continue his father's legacy to improve Gotham, and a deep, dark scar left on his heart all too young.

You always imagined he would start doing some serious philanthropy work, but you suppose this is in line with that. It's not all that shocking that he wants to do it with his own bare hands. Bruce has always wanted to do things himself.

In the eighth grade he told you about a computer he was working on, going into great detail to explain its complexities. It was going to be one of the most advanced systems ever designed once he was through with it. He also mentioned offhand how he nearly blew himself up with it. Becoming Batman seems right on target with that.

What doesn't make sense is why now? Why tell you at all, this many years in? He's let Batman remain a mystery to you for nearly five years. You didn't do anything new to gain his trust.

“I um, I think I need to sit down.”

You stumble back against your countertop looking for stability. From him showing up unannounced in your apartment to this, it’s all a bit much to take in. You’re grateful Bru-Batm-Bruce doesn’t immediately intrude on your personal space, giving you room to breathe. There’s a good chance you would have fully freaked out on him if he did.

You take measured breaths, careful to not let yourself spiral. Although, if there was ever an appropriate time to do so, this would be it. This is a lot to put on anyone, especially so abruptly. The answer to why Bruce couldn’t use his incredible intellect to plan this better will evade you forever.

Once you can trust yourself to not start panicking again, you look back over at him. You have no idea what comes next. This is not how you ever imagined meeting Bruce. You thought maybe one day he would begin to write back again, leading to the decision to meet for a coffee or dinner. It seemed realistic – a bit more adult. This feels like something out of a dream.

You close your eyes again, trying to take it all in. He’s still there when you crack them back open. To be sure, you give yourself a little pinch on your arm. If Bruce finds that odd, he doesn’t say anything about it.

Needing to do something before addressing the elephant – or rather bat – in the room, you grab a glass down and pour yourself some water. It feels strange to ignore him, so you offer you uninvited guest water as well, to which he shakes his head no. It at least feels like a semi-normal moment in all of this.

From there, you wander back to your living room, taking up an end of the couch. Bruce follows, politely letting you lead the way. You wonder if he’s told many others or if he just knows this is best for you. You have absolutely no idea of where to begin.

“Um, hi I guess,” you venture.

You’re by no means an expert in the expressions of Bruce Wayne, but you’re willing to bet that’s the ghost of a smile on his lips. “Hello,” Bruce says.

“So you uh, you’re the Batman then? I feel like I should have been able to put that together sooner.”

“I would have been surprised if you did.” You’re not certain on how to respond to that. Your shock must come across clearly on your face, because Bruce is quick to clarify. “I’ve worked hard to keep people from putting the pieces together.”

Not many must know his true identity then. You can’t say it’s surprising, given Bruce’s usual habits about divulging personal information.

You’re not too proud to admit that sitting across from him in his full suit, even as beat up as it is, is incredibly intimidating. The reason for the bat motif evades you, but looking at him helps you to understand more. He looks large in the suit, an imposing figure by anyone’s standard. His eyes stand out against all the black in stark contrast, the icy blue pinning you in place. It makes it a bit hard to think straight.

“Would you mind um, taking off the–?” You hope you’re not overstepping. He’s trusted you with his identity, but you’re not sure if that also means trusting you with his face.

Your breath hitches as his hands move. The cowl comes off in one fluid motion.

You’ve seen photos of him of course, even recently, but being face to face is something else altogether. The tabloids have at least one thing right. He’s gorgeous.

His hair is long and in severe need of a brush after a night under the helmet, and yet it works. There’s black makeup hastily smudged all around his eyes, maintaining the contrast of his eyes. Stubble dusts his sharp jawline, drawing your attention to his plush lower lip. You’re not sure if this has calmed your nerves or made them worse. He looks like he was just dragged out of a gutter, which for all you know he might have been, and it’s as though he stepped off the cover of a magazine.

You suddenly realize you should say something more instead of continuing to stare. “I guess I can’t pretend it wasn’t really you after all this,” you half-heartedly joke. You’re not sure if it lands.

Bruce readjusts slightly on the couch, drawing your eyes back to his injuries. Whatever serum he had you pump him full of clearly did its job. The exposed skin still looks angry, but cuts are already stitching back together and there's no longer any active bleeding.

The state of his suit is something else. It looks like he was chewed up and spit back out only to be chewed up again. Massive holes are torn clean through, numerous singe marks across his chest. He's lucky to have not lost the pocket where he was keeping that emergency vial.

“Are you okay?” you ask, “I was a little worried you’d die on me in the middle of the night.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.” You think that was meant to be comforting.

Once again, you’re not really sure where to go from here. It feels like your life has now been turned upside down from when he first stumbled into your apartment last night. Simply patching up Batman would have been plenty to deal with and process, but now you know his identity too? Calling this whole thing strange is underselling it.

It peaks your curiosity though.

“Why now?” you ask.

Bruce's eyebrows twitch upward for just a moment. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, why tell me now? You've been Batman for a while and I can hardly remember the last time you wrote to me," you explain. "There's essentially no point in telling me so why? How can you even trust me?"

You wish Bruce wasn't so hard to read. It's nerve-wracking, unable to tell what he's thinking or feeling. It's also entirely unfair, knowing that your heart is on your sleeve.

"How long have we been writing to each other?" Bruce asks. You're sure the non-sequitur has a point, so you let it slide.

"Since we were nine. Although I'm not sure the past few years count as actual correspondence."

"It counts," Bruce asserts, “Trusting you is the easy part. I’m sure my childhood secrets would have fetched a fair price to the right reporter."

Bruce’s mention of selling his letters off is the first time the thought has ever crossed your mind. It makes sense, you suppose. There were definitely times where that extra cash would have come in handy, yet it was never something you considered. You didn't ask for Bruce Wayne as your pen pal and he didn't ask for you – who are you to betray that sacred childhood bond?

“Still doesn’t explain why you’re choosing now to tell me,” you say.

“Your address was the only one I could remember last night.”

You've never been more touched and more concerned at the same time. You caution moving slightly closer to him on the couch.

"You still didn't have to tell me," you say. Bruce looks confused, so you press on. "You woke up first. You could have easily left and told me sometime later."

"Would you have preferred that?"

You think on it for a moment. "Well I guess not but-"

"You deserved to know," he interrupts. "I came here and you cared for me having no idea who I was. The explanation was warranted."

He's not really wrong. The explanation does and doesn't make sense, but what seems to matter most is that Bruce is so certain of it. There's not a single trace of doubt – you're not sure what to do with so much confidence in yourself.

You think back to all the years of silence from him. So many years where you filled him in on nearly everything in your life while learning none about his. Any sane person probably would have stopped writing. Any sane person probably would have changed his PO box and yet, neither of you did.

Sitting across from him now on your well worn couch, you suppose you have an answer for all his unsent letters. You know what he was doing. Sure, the details are missing, but you know and for now that's plenty.

Something more significant than childhood letters are shared between you now. Neither of you are unaware of the shift.

"I need to get back," Bruce tells you. "Alfred is probably worried."

You remember the name of his childhood butler from his letters. It warms your heart to know he's still a large presence in Bruce's life. He always seemed to have the young heir's best interests at heart.

"Will I see you again?" you ask. You desperately hope this meeting isn't bound for more years of silence from his end.

Bruce slips his cowl back on. "I'll be in touch."

You nod, watching him walk across your small apartment back towards the window. The ever-present clouds in the Gotham sky should provide enough shadow for him to sneak away undetected. He's certainly had enough practice.

Bruce is half out the window when he turns back to you and asks, "Why did you keep writing?"

You don't have to think hard about your answer and give it almost immediately. "I didn't want you to be lonely."

His mask obscures most of his face. You hope that he's touched and not offended – the thought of growing up alone in that Tower just always struck you as empty.

Bruce gives you an almost imperceptible nod and then he's gone. You hope he won't be a stranger.

A week later, there's a letter in your mailbox.

Comments & reblogs are always appreciated 💕

Tagging a few people who seemed interested:) @skeletoncowboys @green-socks @nobodys-baby-now @moonlight-prose @autumnleaves1991-blog @1800-fight-me

#bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x reader #the batman fanfiction #bruce wayne fanfiction #crasis writes

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sweet-melody-37 · 3 days

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#Spotify

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captainjacklyn · 5 months

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Making my first DOL post today..random game I got into, it's so easy to get invested.

So here is my PC, don't be fooled- that's a boy he just likes his hair long cause an someone told him it looked nice.

Kinda felt like giving him a small description, how he views most of the LIs and other characters, maybe him as a person idk this really feels like a shitpost. I only recommend the game if you aren't a minor and have a strong ass stomach cause I almost vomited the first time.

!!TW!! mentions of SA, blood, gore, violence, human experiments, death, abuse (both mentally and physically), psychopathic behavior, murder, mutation, stalking, if I missed any other triggers please inform me immediately so that I may fix my mistakes. If any of these topics make you uncomfortable, I advise you to please ignore this post and find something else more suitable. !!TW!!

Degrees of Lewdity :

APPEARANCE :

The slender young man slowly stares back at you and returns your greeting. "Oh..it's you." his name is Elias, he's a resident at the local orphanage, he won't talk back if you try anything. Just avoid taking off his gloves unless he allows it.

PROFILE/MAIN INFORMATION :

Species - human, any hybrid Occupation - student Affiliation - orphanage, oxford street school Age - 18 years old Height - 178 cm Birthday - 04th of April Gender - male (can morph his system into changing sexe so female too) Marital Status - Dating Sydney, Avery's side hoe Zodiac Sign - Aries Best Subject - English, History Interests - Cross dressing, sunbathing, napping, gardening, makeup

PERSONALITY :

Elias is an unfazed and blunt yet somewhat gentle young adult who quietly cares for others from afar. At first glance, many would think that he only speaks up when others wish to converse with him, even then his answers are short with little depth. Though it is stated that his confidence becomes much more evident once he gets comfortable, Elias can tease his peers and act playful. Furthermore, he will occasionally invite friends to spend some time with him. Whether it be taking a nap together, walking along the beach shore or reading in the library. He can crave company and has no shame in asking for someone's attention.

Not only so, but angering/provoking Elias is a feat itself, he usually avoids confrontation by walking away and even when things get out of hand, the young man will still struggle for the sake of running off. Though reaching a certain state of insanity, he looses all control of reason and will attack the offender without limit. This livid persona gives him an animalistic instinct to kill, relentlessly harming the individual(s) who previously caused his senses to go a-wire. The way he does this can get more gruesome depending on the previously inflicted physical or mental wounds on Elias, from forcing himself on them to tearing their skin open and eventually creating a gash deadly enough to give them a slow painful end. He stops at nothing until he's satisfied with how much suffering his abuser lives through.

InGameAU/Canon

Note - The statements above is largely different to how he canonically behaves. I have a knack for 'book accurate' vs 'show representation' and wanted a similar concept for my character.

In the game itself, Elias is much less of a victim and instead finds himself to be in constant control (I've been wary of any nonconsensual interactions, making a save before every choice that could lead to gr*pe or getting..y'know v*red). He is manipulative, defiant and easily angered. Belittling any passerby who leaves him a crude remark, regarding his more manipulative tendencies, this does result in him being a bit of a player.

One ↦ Robin can only have a specific percentage of confidence, preferably leaning towards a hundred but never fully. There is the excessive guilt-trip technique, Elias takes care of him from time to time and the moment Robin says something that could waver the white haired boy's sense of control he half scolds him by reminding Robin of everything he does just for him.

Two ↦ Sydney's purity = max level at all times. He doesn't want to deal with the possibility of having a bratty little *sshole follow him around everywhere for s*x. Especially not if the church proceeds to act up along with his corrupted state. The two of them are dating in game, Elias mainly uses him for protection at school, status wise at least. Due to Elias' line of work and desperate need to pay off Bailey, my PC cheats on Sydney practically everyday, having intercourse with multiple NPCs who offer a good price in exchange for his body as well as acting as Avery's sugar baby.

Despite this, he does care, I promise that he does. But his way of thinking would be similar to Alicent Hightower from House of The Dragon. He isn't narcissistic and has never once acted that way, however Elias is heavily twisted by loneliness abandonment issues go brr, anxiety and peer pressure (e.g robin getting punished for not paying his rent, Bailey possibly selling him off to the farm, etc..). This causes him to appear collected and normal at one moment and then unexpectedly go nuts.

BACKGROUND :

Elias' past follows most of the in-game's PC backstory, he was raised in the orphanage by Bailey and supposedly lived within that town his whole childhood. Another NPC who is only present in Elias' story is Monika, an older sister-like figure who was also raised in the orphanage but soon adopted and taken away. She is said to have learned to read rather quickly and many youngsters would come to her for stories, including Robin. Monika was especially close to Elias, treating him like he was a blood relative than just another inhabitant, their bond grew strong as years passed and her depart created a rather detrimental impact on Elias. Who closed in on himself and ceased to socialize, a partial root to his present conduct.

However, there is a darker side to his story. This would also explain the truth behind his gloved hands which he hates uncovering at all cost, as well as his existence alone. Elias wasn't conceived naturally, instead he was created inside an artificial womb manufactured by a non-governmental laboratory which was currently exploring the nature of hybrids (e.g beings such as the Black Wolf or Great Hawk). A group of scientist took a step further, planning a project which was yet to be approved by their employer, and decided to combine several varieties of animal DNA along with human ones. Their goal was to revolutionize the science of genetic research. Unfortunately, the team was found out and reported to their boss, who visioned Elias' birth as a horrific mistake exhibiting complete disrespect to the laws of nature. The people who had fabricated the unnatural child were instantly discarded from further company work.

Up until that point, the infant mainly looked human and acted as such. So the executive ordered for the toddler to be dropped off at an orphanage and forgotten.

TRIVIA/BONUS FACTS :

Elias is rather fashionable, he sometimes goes into the supermarket to try on a set of clothes before leaving without purchasing a single item. (the art is in the savings)

It is stated by several NPCs that he has a bad habit of staring, this is actually due to him daydreaming/spacing out whilst looking ahead unconsciously.

His favorite drink is lemonade and favorite dessert is lemon tart, anything that has to do with lemons is usually enjoyed by Elias.

When adapting to an environment, his hands are the first to metamorphose. They also connect to his emotions/primal instincts, circumstances like these are what drove Elias to hide them.

His screams sound like a mix of Caraxes and Syrax, his sounds are more guttural than actual cries.

CREDITS FOR PICREW :

#1; #2; #3; #4; #5; #6; #7; #8; #9

#degrees of lewdity #dol #dol pc #degrees of lewdity pc #degrees of lewdity oc

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gijha · 9 months

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HAPPY DUCKRABBIT ANNIVERSARY

On this day, in Looney Tunes history, Frank Tashlin returns to WB with his 1943 short starring Porky Pig and Daffy Duck, “Porky Pig’s Feat”. It is the first time Daffy meets Bugs Bunny officially. Today would be the 80th anniversary.

In honor to this short, let’s learn some facts about Frank Tashlin:

Tashlin directed a lot of Porky films back in the 30s and 40s and most of the Merrie Melodies from 1937-38. Porky was his less favorite character.

He would return to Warner Bros. in 1942 using Bob Clampett's and Norman McCabe's old unit, directing the last set of black-and-white Looney Tunes cartoons.

His last cartoon was "Hare Remover", for which he was uncredited in the short, as he left Warner Bros in 1944 to direct live-action films; his unit was eventually taken over by Robert McKimson.

Tex Avery was a big inspiration for his shorts.

Tashlin worked on camera moves and editing more than any of his peers, using unexpected pans and quick cuts to enhance a gag.

He developed theories of animation design he called “SCOT Art,” which reduced the basic shape of characters to squares, circles, ovals, and triangles.

He is the most daring in using ‘adult jokes’.

He created Petunia Pig.

Let’s see his take on Daffy and Bugs.

Tashlin’s Daffy is a warrior, as always, still having his bad luck on him but facing it like a champ, someone who incites trouble and faces the consequences with no complaint. He is smart, but he uses more muscles than brains.

“I’m a woman hater!” – Plane Daffy

“Now look at me! A has-been! A henpecked duck! A Kansas-back cassanova! And it's your fault!” – The Stupid Cupid

Tahslin doesn’t have a lot of cartoons for Bugs, but he does a good job in his characterization when he does. Even trying to maintain Avery’s quick movements, Bugs’ response to people bothering him, his elegance, smartness, playfuness, feminity and cuteness remain.

“I reiterate: only a big, fat rat would shoot a guy in the back.” – Unruly Hare

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angrelysimpping · 2 years

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How would the LI react to PC just straight up saying their home address and like a bunch of other personal information (feat Leighton because it's funny)

Oooooooh, I'm doing all of them

Alex isn't that concerned at first. You live together, they sure hope you know the address to the farm and their last name. Bit weird that you know all their siblings' full names and their birth order, even Alex gets that mixed up sometimes. Actually, it's kinda starting to freak them out a little, so can you stop?

Avery's eyes narrow, frowning as they ask how you found out their home address. The more information you raddle off, the angrier they become. This feels a lot like you're threatening them, showing off all you know about them that they know they never told you. It's in your best interest to stop before you make Avery do something you'll both regret.

Bailey's hand is around your throat before you can even blink. How the fuck did you get any of their personal information? Have you been snooping around their office? This isn't going to end well for you.

Eden is worse than Bailey. Eden has told you exactly what they want you to know and nothing more. The fact you have just said their full legal name has them pinning you to the ground if not leveling their rifle to your chest.

Great Hawk has no personal information to keep from you. Their name is Great Hawk, they live in the tower, and you are their spouse. What more is there? Their species name? What even is that?

This is Kylar's love language. You know their full name? Their home address? The name of their childhood stuffed animal? Oh, you must really love them to know all that! Don't be surprised when Kylar matches your energy, though.

Is this a threat? Are you threatening Leighton? Another ploy at blackmailing them? What do you want this time? Better be careful, they'll be keeping an eye out for a way to get you back.

Pull this stunt after a riding class and Remy will have you out in the fields within the hour. Try doing this on the farm and you'll be muzzled for a month at minimum.

Yeah, this is all information Robin has already told you? Why are you randomly telling them? If you say something like "Robin isn't actually your legal name but a name Bailey gave you," they're likely to get upset. Not at you, but at the fact that it's even possible.

Sydney is confused and a little on edge. While they don't mind you knowing their personal information, they don't exactly remember telling you this? Start saying anything about Harper and they'll cut you off.

Whitney finds it creepy. The fuck are you, that freak Kylar? You don't have a shrine to them in your locker, do you? No? Prove it. Absolutely going to pin you to the lockers and say you can put your mouth to better uses than babbling about them like a little creep.

Wren freezes, smile strained as you whisper their full legal name into their ear during a game of blackjack. You slippery little shit. How did you get that information? And why did it make a spike of arousal run through them instead of the expected panic?

#alex the farmhand #avery the businessperson #eden the hunter #kylar the loner #robin the orphan #sydney the faithful #whitney the bully #bailey the caretaker #great hawk the terror #leighton the headteacher #remy the farmer #wren the smuggler #degrees of lewdity

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inkyquince · 2 years

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FEMINISATION. feat Male Reader

content warning. Free use, feminisation, exhibitionism, wifeyfication, humiliation.

Shall Wifey-fy you. Sees you as their little wife. You get that role in the household they share with you. Wanted someone to look after them, cook for them, keep your living space clean, looking cute. Will allow baggier clothes that have more of a gender neutral look but would slowly push for you to wear those little checkered dresses, lingerie underneath everyday. Wants a wife, will get a wife. Comes back home, tired, and will just sink into you. Hey, you're their wife, their property, free use will be a thing often.

Will either be good spouses or strict ones. Depends. Either you're worked to the bone trying to maintain every single little thing in that house, getting up early and only going to bed after each dish has been washed up and the table prepped for breakfast tomorrow morning. That or, they want you to indulge in this life, wearing clothes they picked for you and just doing meal stuff every now and then, but you're main job is to let them kneel down and lift your skirts to go down on you after coming home. Starts investing in panties that have the back section missing for easy access to your ass, but presses your cock against your tummy, effectively hiding it. That or invests in a cock cage, just to wear the key around their neck.

Sucks on your nipples as they finger your ass, every part of your pliable and open for them. All that training, they muse as they line up their cock/strap-on to your eager hole, was worth it for a such a perfect house wife.

Dom!Kylar, Eden, Avery, Veteran Guard, Pining Sirris, (CompHet) River, Winter, Doren, Methodical Guard, Morgan, Scarred Inmate (Degrees of Lewdity), Nadia, Valdemar, Dark!Muriel (The Arcana), Diavolo, Beelzebub, Corrupt! Simeon (Obey Me), Voss Zwingli (Inky OC).

They do it to humilate you. Poor thing, shaking hands gripping your skirt. Can't even look them in the eye, poor stupid thing. As if you never expected this, as if you you didn't know the only thing you should every wear is girly dresses and panties. Either loves you in make up or wants you far more natural, teasing you about flat tits and an excited clit when nudging your crotch with their foot. Forces you to show off your lacy panties to them under the table or anytime they demand, no matter where the two of you are. Likes dresses that are overly pretty, maybe bright, unless you wanna actually be a goth gf for em, depending on who it is. Wants you to beg to be able to change out of these clothes, into your usual ones, but even as they promise that soon, soon you can take the panties off, take the bra off, they lie. You won't be able to find most of your usual clothes, forced to wear the ones they got you for hours on end, maybe having to wear them to the shops to go and buy you new clothes, thought you're the one given strange looks when you emerge in new clothes.

Calls you their pretty little princess, beautiful, their eager little cunt, their naughty pussy. Won't let up on it. More delighted if you're reluctant to show your cock, fully feeling your legs up in public, pushing up the fabric so people glancing over could see a glimpse of your cock, in their crotchless panties. Wannts to do something big, at least once. Fuck you in front of their friends, all dressed up and pretty, just so they also get to see how much you adore being treated like this.

Whitney, Alex, Bailey, Harper, Briar, Leighton, Mason, Remy, Quinn, Relaxed Guard (Degrees of Lewdity), Mean!Asra, Lucio, Dark! Portia, Valerius (The Arcana), Lucifer, Satan, Belphegor, Barbatos, Solomon (Obey Me), Arie Zwingli, Zacarie De Fay (Inky OC)

Uno Reverse time! They want to be the one pretty for you! Wants to be the one who gets to try out different eyeliners and lipstick and hang off your arm, gushing about their boyfriend.

Some of them are going to be way shyer about it, gonna need some encouragment. Too shy to even think about it at first, not used to being seen like that.

Wants to wear garters with your initials dangling off in fancy lettering, pretty panties that match their outfit, pretty jewelry (gold or silver, depends on what kind of mess they are). Depends on the person if this is for them, feeling pretty and empowered and making you shy by slinging their leg over your thigh, smirking at you, knowing you're the only hungrily between their thighs later, pretty lacy thighs clamped around your head. That, or if they're shy, can't believe they were talked into this, growing more excited as your hand drifts up their thigh.

Sub!Kylar, Robin, Sydney, Fallen!Jordan, Gwylan, Anxious Guard, Darryl, Niki (Degrees of Lewdity), Julian, Portia (The Arcana), Mammon, Leviathan, Asmodeus (Obey Me), Gabriel Sinclair (Inky OC)

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monay-monn · 18 days

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My Current Pcs

Monay the False Saintess

✦| Angelic Cow-girl ✦| Current Li: Sydney (Fallen) > Avery ✦| Playstyle: Defiant ✦| Mission: Perfection (feats collecting + max skills)

Summary of File:

Very first 'normal' save + current longest running save, focused on playing through as much content as possible and achieving as many feats as possible. Accidentally got Angel tf after hyperfocusing on making money for an entire month by spamming the spa (wanted to make sure she could take on Robin's debt and still have extra money on the side to not get punished by Bailey). Very school + reputation focused (all reputation is positive), visits mickey and landry as much as possible to lower fame + buy pepper spray. Worst world corruption out of all the saves (stole ivory necklace + rite of defilement).

──────────────────✧₊∘✦

Mammon the False Prophet

✦| Demonic Cow-boy ✦| Current Li: Sydney (Faithful) > Robin ✦| Playstyle: Defiant ✦| Mission: Become the Ultimate Lewd Priest (infamous reputation + Max lewd skills)

Summary of File:

2nd save + 2nd longest running save. Focused on doing all the things that Monay's save couldnt do. Playstyle is a little more risky with trying to get money using the lewder job options and trying to raise his lewd fame. Currently the save is almost exactly the same as Monay's save except they're less restricted by the way they can actually fuck around. Mostly made just to see the difference between rite of promise faithful!sydney vs rite of defilement fallen!sydney. Also supposed to be the save focused on romancing Whitney but ended up liking Robin and Kylar more.

Lowest world corruption out of all current Pcs (never stole the ivory necklace + rite of promise).

──────────────────✧₊∘✦

Nene the Entropic

✦| Demonic Harpy ✦| Current LI: Great Hawk > Eden ✦| Playstyle: Submissive lewd ✦| Mission: Fuck around and Find out

Summary of file:

3rd save file, initially started to rack up Harper's love by repeatedly getting sent to the asylum, now turned into pregnancy save.

Currently the most chaotic save out of all of them. Restricting myself by not fighting the lewd encounters + not focusing on school and instead fuck around the outskirts/forest.

Explicitly made to dismiss/reject all the school/town lis.

World Corruption is currently unknown since I made her explicitly to stay the fuck away from the temple.

──────────────────✧₊∘✦

??? the ???

✦| Fallen Fox-girl (intended) ✦| Current Li: Sydney (fallen) > ??? ✦| Playstyle: Defiant Crossdresser ✦| Mission: Get all virginities taken by Sydney (failed)

Summary of File

Created on a whim because I wanted a crossdresser PC. Has the most amount of Feat boosters out of all my starting PCs (mf used all 259 coins I had). Also created just to fuck around with Rite of Promise and trying to corrupt Syd. Current goal is to try and achieve fallen forgiven status + getting the other transformation feats I hadnt gotten yet (namely fox + cat + wolf).

Dont really have a name for her or for what kinda direction I wanna take her save file...

#degrees of lewdity #dol pc #monay the false saintess #mammon the false prophet #nene the entropic #??? the ???#if you notice the backgrounds they're all in their preferred safehouses ehe #Monay and Mammon are both very temple focused so they stay at the temple most of the time #they dont need to pay for bailey but it also keeps the wraith from haunting them #Nene is staying at Eden's cabin because that's the coziest out of what she's got #and she doesnt need to pay bailey while staying with eden :3 #??? is still stuck with bailey though cause I havent progressed her save file that much #though since she's gonna be romancing sydney that means she's gonna be temple focused too in the future #if you also noticed... ??? has the same grey eyes Monay has...#ouuu foreshadowing for future lore..#ouuuuu #I wanna eventually do an id card thing for them in the future #I think that'd be really fun #I mean technically all four of them already are wearing their school uniforms so yall alrd know what they look like...#also hehe monay and mammon on the verge of tears <33 #I love my sad little babies <33 #they're crying cause they just got out of a brawl :))#they like to fight <33 #fun fact: Monay has the vengeful sadist trait

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dollya-robinprotector · 7 months

Note

what if the feats menu titles are what they see themselves as? maybe even in relation to how they see themselves with you? since it’s triggered by giving them your virginity, it may be tied to how they view themselves in the relationship; robin thinks of themselves a your lover, avery as a moneybag you fucked for cash, whitney is conscious enough to realize they’re a bully who took your virginity, syd probably has been told all their life they’re pure hearted and does believe it especially now that they lost it to someone they love, etc. idk,,, i feel like it’d be kind of nice insight into their lives;; it makes the ones like eden who notes how lonely they truly are for having to pay/kidnap someone to fuck them, leighton who realized they’re a piece of shit, etc., oddly self aware and as if the people in the town know there’s something wrong subconsciously but don’t acknowledge it in their day to day life ;; lolol

ooooooooohhhhhhh no no no no you have some points Anon I do I do see your points I can totally see-

#dollya ask

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givemewallywestorgivemedeath · 1 year

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Who do you think are the most OP members of the FlashFam? I think it's difficult, the majority of them has almost the same powers.

Oh easy.

Wally, Bart and Barry.

I think we forget sometimes that the vast majority of the crazy feats of godlike powers we see from speedsters are coming from these three. Wally, Bart and Barry have insane connections to the speedforce and their skill level is unmatched. What these three can do is by no means normal or average. They are op as fuck.

You have to remember that even... let's say Max Mercury is nowhere even remotely near their skill level. And we're talking about Max Mercury. The guy who knows more about the speedforce than anyone else and trained for years to master it. But Max (although he was faster than Bart when Bart was a child) isn't on the same playing field as Wally, Bart and Barry. Max couldn't enter the speedforce without Bart's assistance, Max couldn't leave the speedforce without Barry and Wally's assistance, Max can't time travel to a destination of his own choice, Max can't speed steal or fully pause time, ect ect. Max is one of the most skilled, most knowledgeable, most trained and most respected speedsters of all time. Max is the cream of the crop. You won't find another speedster better than Max. He's a shining example of what's humanely possible for speedsters to achieve.

But Wally, Bart and Barry aren't humanely possible. Those three are insane.

I'm actually going to make a tier list to explain this

ABSOLUTELY FUCKING INSANE:

(AKA actually gods. Can do literally every speedster ability. Faster than literally everything. Beyond op.)

Wally West (now), Bart Allen, Barry Allen

TOP LEVEL OF SPEEDSTER ABILITY:

(AKA the top of the top. Insane skills. Insane knowledge. Insane speed. Likely has a vast amount of speedster abilities other than running. Likely faster than most other speedsters. Op af)

Max Mercury, Jay Garrick, Savitar, Eobard Thawne, Thad Thawne, Irey West (future)

ABOVE AVERAGE:

(AKA one of the following: above average speed, above average connection or above average abilities. Likely has one or two speedster abilities other than running. Slightly op but still beatable)

Irey West (now), August Heart, Edward Clariss, Jess Quick, Alinta (future), Hunter Zoloman (when connected), Lia Nelson, Jai West (future)

AVERAGE:

(AKA average connection, average speed, average abilities. Potentially an additional speedforce ability but no crazy speedforce abilities. Not op.)

Wally West (past), Ace West, Avery Ho, Jesse Chambers, Daniel West, Christina Alexandrova, Jenni Ognats, Jai West (now), John Fox, Red Death, Don Allen, Dawn Allen, Meena Dhawan, Anatole, David Edwards (after), Judy Garrick, Bar Torr, Fastbak, Swoosh, Terri Magnus, Sela Allen, Jonathan Allen, Carrie Allen, Barry West, S'Kidd Flash, Thondor Allen, Jace Allen, Blaire Allen, Nora Allen, Agent Flashling, Danica Williams, Cherub

TRIES REALLY HARD:

(AKA normal connection but below average speed and abilities. Extremely beatable.)

Baroness Blitzkrieg, Johnny Chambers, Bebeck, Cassiopeia, Harold Christos, Inertia 2, Killspeed, Mayfly, Millie Heyday, Runaround Sue, Wind, Pellmell, Poprocket, Velocity, Gabriella Rossetti

OH NO:

(AKA needs outside assistance to access speedforce (suit, drugs, formula), faulty connection, connection is killing them, can only access powers for short periods of time, ect)

Jai West (past), Alinta (now), Owen Mercer, Eliza Harmon, Jerry McGee, Meloni Thawne (*see notes), Gregor Gregorovich, Boleslaw Uminski, Joanie Swift, Mas, Menos, David Edwards (previously), Keigo, Ezra Gill, Henry Cosgei, Jaculi, Jaculi 2, Jimmy Olsen, Xane Swift

So yeah, as you can see by this, although all speedsters with a functioning speedforce connection are technically capable of being op, speedsters rarely actually are op.

We're just really used to op speedsters because we're used to whatever the fuck Wally, Bart and Barry have going on. But they are very much not representative of speedsters as a whole.

Do you guys remember how fast Wally used to be? When he was younger and struggling with his speed and stuff? THAT'S THE GODDAMN AVERAGE. Wally AT HIS SLOWEST was still faster than every single goddamn speedster he came across, including Jay, Johnny, Jesse, the Blue Trinity, the Red Trinity, ect. HE JUST WASN'T FASTER THAN BARRY OR EOBARD SO HE THOUGHT HE WAS THE WORST. Because Wally is fucking insane. He's an insane human being. Anyway, Wally at his slowest is the typical representation of an average speedster. That's how they typically are.

#dc #dc comics #speedsters #speedforce #flash fam #ranking #k to explain some things. first none of the names are ranked by order. so I'm not ranking them 1 Wally 2 Bart ect #they're only ranked by category. not ranked within the categories #Irey isn't in the insane category because she's actually not supposed to be faster than Wally. she's just more skilled than him #so shes good (like really good) but she doesn't surpass her fathers speed. so im putting her in top until proven otherwise #lia is in above average despite not having super speed because the stuff she has going on is INSANE #the same thing applies to Jai #Meloni is in oh no because she is technically a speedster?? she's just never used her powers in a comic? but she's listed in universe as #being a speedster and Owen inherited his speed from her. so. idk. my only conclusion is that she doesn't know how to use her speed #or she doesn't use it to spite her father.#mas y menos are in oh no because they need to hold hands to access their powers #oh and Hunter's ranking is soley off of his speedforce connection. not his time powers. Hunter's time powers are insane #i tried to stay main universe but i couldn't resist putting in some alt universe speedsters #oh and Eobard and Thad aren't in the god level because Eobard has been reset meaning that he isn't really timeless like Wally and Bart are #and hes not literally the speedforce like Barry is (no matter how hard he tries)#and Thad isn't there because... well he was a good match for Bart when Bart was really little. but i don't really think Thad is any more #like... even remotely. Bart has surpassed Thad by a lot.#Bart was literally the speedforce at one point. hes insane #also Hunter WAS a god? but for unrelated reasons (his time powers) but getting connected to the speedforce nerfed him

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