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Batman Bingo 2020: Deathstroke

for @jasonofbanamighdall

Debts and Dues

There were some things that were never pleasant, getting caught in the snow without socks,  losing your keys, and not being able to remember the name of a song.  Having a gun pointed at your chest, Dick felt, qualified as extremely unpleasant.  He stood stock still.  The barrel of the gun was still hot, it burned slightly as it dug into his sternum.  Even with his uniform he could still feel the heat left over from previous rounds fired.  

He didn’t flinch.  He couldn’t flinch.


“You know I can’t.”  Dick wondered if Slade had the guts to do it.  They had danced around this for years.  Sentimentality couldn’t keep him safe forever.  

“I won’t ask again.”  Slade’s voice came out as a growl.  So he didn’t want to, Dick decided, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t do it.  

“You’ll have to go through me to get to him.”  Dick didn’t dare glance behind him to where Jason lay.  Any movement would be an opening to push him side, to finish the hit.  

“Grayson.”  Slade’s voice was suddenly softer.  “I’m the one with the gun.  Batman can’t hold it against you.  It’ll be one less low life on your streets.”

Dick forced his face to stay a blank mask.  Slade didn’t know.  

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(this turned out much longer than i expected.. whoops!)

whumper abandons whumpee in the woods with broken ankles so they can’t walk, leaving a nearly-dead phone as the only way out…

whumper drove deep into the forest, whumpee passed out in the bed of the truck. when they had traveled far enough, whumper stopped. whumpee started twitching awake as whumper walked back and opened the back of the truck. whumpee groaned and whimper, a pained sound coming from within them.

“good morning, dear,” whumper said. whumpee pushed themselves up a bit and looked around.

“wh… where are we?”

whumper pulled on whumpee’s legs, both with broken ankles, and whumpee let out a small scream as their body slid across the truck towards the edges. “the woods,” whumper said with a smile. “i’ve decided i’m done with you.”

the way they said this make whumpee’s stomach churn. “are…” they began, trying to get in enough air to take a breath, “are you going to kill me now?” they said it like they didn’t care, like they wanted it. 

“not exactly,” whumper said, before pulling on whumpee’s legs again until whumpee fell out of the vehicle and landed on the ground with a much louder scream. they could swear they heard their bones cracking more and more. they tried to stand but the pain was far too intense, but they continued to struggle regardless. whumper put their boot on the back of whumpee’s head, pushing their face far into the dirt as whumpee held their breath. this was it. it must be it. “stay still. don’t move,” whumper said. 

they removed their boot and whumpee didn’t move, they didn’t dare. they just breathed in the dirt as they started hyperventilating, started to cry as they anticipated a gunshot or a hand on their body, but it never came. instead, the sound of the truck starting up again came, and whumpee couldn’t help but flinch and look. they saw whumper in the driver’s seat, whumpee’s phone in their hand as they pressed a few buttons then threw it out the window towards whumpee, and put the truck into gear.

a sense of realization came over whumpee, and all they could do was stare. “no, wait!” they said, but whumper had already started driving away. “i can’t walk, please!” whumper turned the music up in the truck, and soon they were out of sight. whumpee caved in on themselves, thinking that they were probably going to die out here. they had no idea where they were, and definitely no way to even move besides crawling. they remembered the phone and pulled their body over to it. it was on 1%, and through their blurred vision, whumpee called caretaker.

“whumpee? is that–”

“you have to help me.”

“where are you?”

“i don’t know. i’m in the woods. there’s.. there’s lots of trees, and I… caretaker, my ankles are broken. i can’t walk. it’s getting dark. please –” then there was a beeping sound, and the phone was dead. whumpee started to sob harder, feeling totally helpless, almost wishing they were back with whumper because at least they wouldn’t be out here in the cold and so fucking alone.

whumpee wasn’t sure how much time went by, but they were nearly certain they were going to die. they had pushed their body up against a tree, their ripped clothes hardly hanging onto their body. it was dark now and the temperature seemed to keep plummeting. 

when caretaker finally, finally, somehow found them, they found themselves reaching towards a shivering and weeping whumpee, wanting to touch them but afraid they’d hurt them more. they grabbed a blanket from their car and draped it over whumpee’s broken body, then ran a hand softly over whumpee’s forehead. “hey, it’s ok, i’m here now. I found you,” they said through their own tears. whumpee was still hardly able to move, but pushed themselves a few inches so that their head was in caretaker’s lap. caretaker was overwhelmed with emotion as their face closed up and they wished so badly that they could just fix everything right now, but obviously that wasn’t possible. whumpee clung to caretaker’s leg like their life depended on it.

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Almost forgot to post this here. Oops.


Chapter 2

She dreams of Luka again the next night. And another night. And another night. And another night. And another night.

Something as recurrent as this should scare her. But instead, all Marinette feels and thinks is that it’s not so bad to have dreams of Luka smiling at her.

When she sees the stretch of his lips, the slight flush of pink across his cheeks when he looks straight into her eyes, the stray strands of baby hair tickling the top of his forehead, the way his lashes flutter as he blinks, how his nose twitches just so…

The images she has seen in her dream calls to her like a memory, and just looking back at them makes her heart beat a little faster, even if she hasn’t done any running. It makes her face flush a little, even if she’s not too hot under her warm blanket. It makes her eyes water a little, even if she’s not feeling sad. It makes her smile more than a little, even if it’s just a dream about him. It makes her hands tremble a little, even if she’s not scared at all.

She doesn’t remember all the other details, except for his face; except for him smiling at her. she doesn’t mind it, though, because dreams are supposed to make you feel good, and her dreams of Luka are definitely the good ones.

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“Please - please don’t leave me…”
“I won’t love, I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”
“I know, but it’s going to be alright. You’re going to be alright.”

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Next part of my Eskel/fem reader (Y/N) fic. There’s more already written that will follow. Find pt 1 here.

I’ll post the next section later today!

Warnings for this fic: referenced sexual assault and attempted rape (nothing graphic actually happens), kidnapping, anxiety/panic attack/ptsd.

They’d had coin between them for one room with two beds, which was the best option given the limited rooms available. They headed upstairs at the end of the night and entered their room, rummaging in packs and getting ready for bed. Eskel looked around, considering. 

“I’m not sure what your usual sleeping arrangements are… I’ll sleep on my bedroll over here…”

“Geralt and I are used to sharing a bed,” Jaskier offered. “But that leaves…”

“We’ve been sleeping outside,” Y/N interjected, “and I’ve been sleeping between these oafs. It feels safer. Jaskier and I could share a bed, if you don’t mind sharing with your brother?” She looked at Eskel then Geralt. “Well, if that’s ok with you too, Jaskier.”

“I will never turn down sharing a bed with a beautiful lady,” he winked at her.

Jaskier,” Geralt warned.

“What? I’d never attempt anything with anyone who wasn’t willing, and besides, you really think I’d try to bed her while sharing a room with two Witchers with super hearing?” Jaskier scoffed.

“I’ll keep him in line, I promise.” Y/N smirked.

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Warnings: blood, gore, body horror, very loose definition of ‘field medicine’

Universe: AU, canon divergence in STEM

Inspired by:  Anon request where during the final battle, Stefano is in pain because of his eye and Sebastian calms him by stroking his face. Thanks for the suggestion!


The place where Stefano’s right eye used to be has ached for as long as he can remember.  Even after the initial round of treatments, when supposedly all the nerves in it should have been dead, he could feel it- a cold, open, raw place inside of his skull.

In Union, however, things were much improved.  Once he had the power of the Core, Stefano was able to fill his empty eye socket and magnify his powers more than he ever thought possible.  His camera eye is one of his greatest accomplishments, next to his beautiful Obscura of course, which is why it surprises him greatly when it begins to act up.

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Take On The World

Story Summary:

In a world where The Circle were triumphant and their leadership within The Clave resulted in the mass cull of every demon-blooded being on the planet.

Magnus Bane is an infamous rebel leader on the run from shadowhunters. Alec Lightwood is a traitor hidden in plain sight, an insignificant foot soldier working out of the New York institute. Together, they are the legends of the Downworld survivors.

Read from the beginning HERE on Ao3

Chapter 13 Sneak Peek:

The edges of his vision were blurred, tunnelling in on a face gazing down at him. Golden eyes shone softly, dark pupils slit thinly down the centre.

“It’s okay, Alexander,” Magnus murmured gently, his arm moving in Alec’s peripheral and the cool dampness on his forehead shifted. “It’s okay. You have a fever.”

Alec’s eyes rolled unsteadily and his throat convulsed joltingly. It was difficult to swallow. “Fever…” he echoed in a mumble, just struggling to make sense of Magnus’s words. Somehow it wasn’t sinking it. It wasn’t making sense. “Fever,” Alec repeated dumbly, his brow furrowing.

“That’s it, sweetheart. That’s right.”

Read chapter 13 HERE on Ao3

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Sure thing! ^_^

Reaching for you by blusidedreams

Rating: M

Pairings: Namjoon/Jimin

Status: Complete

Word count: 5,058

Summary: It was hard for Jimin to pinpoint exactly when he started to have feelings for Namjoon in a way that went beyond their friendship.

It was hard to remember a time when he wasn’t hopelessly in love with Namjoon. That’s right, Jimin was in love with Namjoon.

What About My Thighs? by joondimples

Rating: M

Pairings: Namjoon/Jimin

Status: Complete

Word count: 4,945

Summary: "Is there something wrong with my pants?“

"Ah, no. I just thought the color is pretty.” Without thinking, like his hands got a mind of its own, it lands on top of Namjoon’s thigh with a small smack.


“Well, thank you, Jimin. Are you sure you only like the color?”

He’s teasing him. Namjoon is teasing him. Wait. Why is Namjoon teasing him?

or; the sexual tension between Jimin’s hand and Namjoon’s thighs

We Flow Like Water by Lssimpson999

Rating: E

Pairings: Namjoon/Jimin

Status: Complete

Word count: 30,527

Summary:  Namjoon and Jimin only ever meet at Han River. They don’t know each other from anywhere other than this one spot by the river they both come to when they’re having a bad day. And somehow they always end up bumping into each other

teach me everything about you by sopebreaths

Rating: M

Pairings: Jungkook/Namjoon

Status: Incomplete (Updated 18 Oct 20)

Word count: 20,426

Summary:  fall is a great time to take up new activities. like, namely, finally pursue your overdue english studies. or, maybe, go on festival dates you never had the chance to before — say, never had someone to take before.

the perfect opportunity for both is thrown at jungkook’s face when he meets namjoon — linguistics and literature major, private english tutor trying to make ends meet — and develops a crush as humongous as namjoon’s didactic skills and his own sudden skyrocketing motivation in learning a new language.

My Heart Keeps Thumping by bwichimbap

Rating: E

Pairings: Jungkook/Namjoon

Status: Complete

Word count: 30,578

Summary: It feels like more than a crush, sometimes, in those quiet moments when they could be the only two in the library, with the way they’re focused on each other, when Jungkook purposefully pronounces something wrong just to make Namjoon laugh, when his face scrunches with a smile that makes him look particularly young and human and beautiful. When Jungkook trusts him enough to confess his inexperience, and ask for help.

(aka Namjoon lies about having a hook-up. Jungkook lies about needing sex advice. They are a match made in disaster-gay heaven.)

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You comfort The Doctor after a nightmare

Hurt/comfort, gender neutral reader, I wrote it as platonic but it can be read as romantic.

Warning: brief mention of the use of needles for medicinal purposes.

You awoke to the sound of beeping and whirring. Squinting up at the ceiling you saw a conglomeration of lights; purples, blues, golds all dancing around the room. The floor was cold under your bare feet as you padded to the back of the door to put on your dressing gown. You looked up at the strange lights again, they all seemed to gather at the door. Opening it, your eyes followed them as they trailed down the corridor.

‘What is it, what are you trying to tell me?’ you asked the TARDIS softly. She only hummed and beeped in response. Intrigued, you followed the trail. They led to a door, a door that you recognised. But the Doctor’s bedroom isn’t here, you thought, it’s next to the library. She must be moving the architecture to get me here, but why? And as though she could read your thoughts, which you uncomfortably reminded yourself that she can, the Tardis beeped, encouraging you to step inside.

Tentatively, you pushed the door open. It was immediately clear why the TARDIS was so keen to bring you here. There was the Doctor, writhing and shouting things you couldn’t make out. Sheets tangled around him like vines, some having left imprints on his skin which made him look horribly scarred.

You had seen The Doctor in so many ways from all your travels with him. You had seen him be so childish and laugh until he couldn’t stand up straight, you had seen him in his age, his wisdom and his weariness. You had seen him angry, the oncoming storm, his rage so palpable that it seemed to radiate from him.

But you had never seen him so helpless.


You grabbed his shoulders in an attempt to steady him.


It was unbearable.


Shooting upwards, the Doctor was suddenly awake, eyes darting around the room and panting, terrified.

You gently took his face in your hand and guided it towards your own. Placing your other hand on his chest you breathed heavily and slowly, encouraging him to do the same. His terrified brown eyes met yours and your heart wrenched. As his breathing slowed there was a change in his eyes; the initial fear had gone and had left only sadness in its wake.

‘It’s my fault.’ He croaked. The nearly not-there sound an awful contrast to his shouting.

‘No, it’s not.’ You breathed, holding back tears.

The Doctor buried his head on your shoulder and hugged you around the middle. You could feel his tears soaking through your pyjamas.

‘I’m so sorry. It’s all my fault. I couldn’t save them.’

‘Shhhh, it’s ok, it’s ok.’ You tried to reassure him, stroking your hands through his hair.

You wondered what had plagued his dreams. Was it the loss of Gallifrey or perhaps another planet that he couldn’t save? What horrors could possibly haunt the nightmares of a Time Lord?

After a while, the Doctor finally spoke. He lifted up his head but avoided meeting your eyes.

‘Go to the med bay.’ His voice hoarse, barely a whisper. ‘The supply room, on the top shelf, there’s a bottle of purple liquid. Get a needle too.’

You nodded.

You entered the med bay and made your way straight to the supply room: a labyrinth of various bottles and powders, even tanks of small luminous swarms. Many of these remedies were familiar to you and as you searched the shelves you were reminded of fond memories of the countless times that you and The Doctor had patched each other up after a perilous adventure.

Just as you thought that it would be impossible to find this vial among the cluttered shelves, a golden beam of light appeared which illumined an ancient looking bottle with Gallifreyan writing on the label.

'Thanks girl.’

You reached up and upon closer inspection you realised that there was hardly any of the purple liquid left. You grabbed a needle from the draw and made your way back to The Doctor.

Gingerly, you pushed the door open. The Doctor was sitting up in bed, his head in his hands and his beautiful hair upended.


He dragged his hands down his face and silently took the supplies from you. He moved with surprising ease and precision as he drew the substance out through the needle and located a vein in his arm. You averted your eyes as he administered it. The effect was immediate, and he began to fall backwards. It happened so fast you could do nothing but throw your arms around him and ease him down onto the pillows.


The next morning your mind was troubled by the events of the night. The thing that burdened you the most was how little of the purple substance was left in the bottle. How many nights had The Doctor spent like that? How many times did he endure it alone? You wondered if his dream was about Gallifrey or perhaps another planet that he couldn’t save. Your heart lurched at the thought of the weight he must carry; all those lives he blamed himself for losing.

You didn’t quite know how to act as you walked into the console room. The Doctor had exposed a part of himself that you had never seen before, and you didn’t quite know how to approach him.

You caught a glimpse of The Doctor.  He was in his blue suit and was leaning against one of the branch-like structures, tall and thin like an evening shadow. A terrible emptiness in his gaze told you that his mind was far away. But only for a second. As soon as he saw you his entire demeanour changed.

‘So!’ he bounded around the console and began to press various buttons and levers. ‘There is a burst of star fire, right now, off the coast of Metasighnafolia. The sky is like oil on water! Or, back in time. We could meet, oh I don’t know, Charles the Second? Henry the Eighth? I know – Jane Austen! I’d love to meet Jane Austen, I bet she’s brilliant.’ He looked up at you with a smile that soon died upon his face, the slight red in his eyes the only sign of the night before.

You looked at each other for a moment, the familiar humming of the TARDIS filling the silence. You couldn’t think of any words that could address the helplessness that you felt and your awe at his stoicism. That man was so like the galaxy, so full of wonder and beauty yet filled with secrets.

‘Oh, and thank you’

A glimmer of light had appeared in his eyes again.

You smiled at him.




Please let me know what you think! This is my first fic so I’m quite nervous about posting 

Thank you @tenandcrowley for proofreading 

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WC: 1200

Warnings: hurt/comfort, kinda just ramblings, descriptions of depersonalization, unedited

pairing: bakugou x reader

description: katsuki bakugou hasn’t always been patient, but he’s learning as you become accustomed to relying on him

please read the note at the end <3

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Known - Spice

Day 20 practically begged me to write some Yunmeng shuangjie reconciliation, and who am I to deny that. 

Jiang Cheng is waiting at the main entrance of Lotus Pier, his hands clasped behind his back, standing straighter than he has in a long time.

He burned Wei Wuxian’s letter shortly after he read it, because he couldn’t stand to look at it for even one more second. 

It was formal—too formal—like a stranger respectfully requesting a place for the night instead of like it should have been.

His brother informing him that he was dropping by and only expecting the best accommodations.

Jiang Cheng has less formal correspondence with Lan Qiren of all people and that thought nearly made him refuse Wei Wuxian’s request on principle.

But Jiang Cheng never did learn how to refuse Wei Wuxian, even though he loves to complain about whatever idiotic idea Wei Wuxian comes up with. In the end Jiang Cheng always followed him after all.

Wei Wuxian is late, but Jiang Cheng isn’t surprised by that. Wei Wuxian has never arrived to anything on time, and Jiang Cheng figures this shouldn’t be any different.

He waited sixteen years for him. A few more minutes won’t hurt.

When Wei Wuxian finally does come into sight, Jiang Cheng can tell immediately that he’s hesitant about approaching Lotus Pier. Jiang Cheng wonders what the reason for that is; is it because he doesn’t actually want to meet with Jiang Cheng and only does out it out of a sense of obligation or is it because Lotus Pier doesn’t look like what he remembers from before?

Well, if it’s the last one, Wei Wuxian can turn right back around, because he does not get to complain about something Jiang Cheng had to rebuild all on his own because Wei Wuxian was gone. He could have come back earlier, then he wouldn’t need to complain.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” Wei Wuxian greets him with when he’s finally in reach and Jiang Cheng flinches.

So this is how they are going to play it. Jiang Cheng probably was a fool for hoping for anything else.

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Sorry! This is mostly a filler, but I wanted to get something up! - EmrysAaryn



People think a soul mate is your perfect fit, and that’s what everyone wants. But a true soul mate is a mirror, the person who shows you everything that is holding you back, the person who brings you to your own attention so you can change your life. 

                                                                                    – Elizabeth Gilbert

Opening the door that his quirk, and All For One had kept locked tight was like a shockwave to Tenko’s body, life and whole universe. 


The cathartic release of a good, hard cry.

The sharp pain of every kick, slap and punch he ever received.

The heart in your throat feeling of the big drop on a rollercoaster.

The cold sadness of being told there was no one out there to love him.

The zip under your skin that turns to a tingle down your spine with the first ‘real’ kiss.

The somber apathy at seeing other ‘villains’ find their soulmates.

The heavy, calming peace that settles as you look out your window and into the rain.

The sheer terror of finding out he had been lied to and manipulated by the one person who said they cared.

The explosive power of his decay quirk when he saw his soulmate crumple to the ground.

The love and happiness she felt at finding him before she passed out after her fight with Endeavor.


Outside the door to the small cell in the psychiatric prison stood All Might and two guards, and all three men jumped and turned to the solid door when a strange sound broke through. They each tilted their heads to the side and pressed on their ears trying to alleviate the pressure that had hit all of the sudden.

Toshinori raced to slide the metal blocking the cell door’s window with one palm pressed to his ear tightly. Looking in the room he saw Young-Shimura and Y/N seemingly unconscious on opposite ends of the room. The ex-villain looked like he had been flung away from the female hero with his neck at a strange angle up against the wall. Y/N’s back was pressed to the opposite wall as she was curved in a fetal position.

The Symbol of Peace tried to get into the room after he snagged the key card from one of the guards, but it wouldn’t budge. His confusion dissipated once he looked back through the window to see a ring along the walls of the room that would be at the same height as the door’s lock; a ring of dark, decayed matter as if Young-Shimura’s quirk had exploded out of him. ‘Much like that night. When he saw Y/N drop after Endeavor was dealt with.’


Back inside, it would seem the ex-villain’s decay quirk had exploded, unbidden from his body. The force of expelling his quirk in such a strange way was like a miniature explosion in and of itself. Y/N with her nullification due to the soulbond was fine other than becoming knocked unconscious when she flew across the room and into the wall.

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