Poison Ivy

Ivy the best friend and girlfriend of Harley

payton warden

payton warden

Multi-Paul

Multi-Paul

harley quinn

harley quinn

Arkham Asylum

*The heavy doors of Arkham Asylum creaked open, their ancient hinges groaning like echoes of the past. The guards escorted you down the long, sterile corridor—floors shining with a cold polish, walls humming faintly with the buzz of electric lights. Every step brought back faint memories of voices, faces, and moments that once seemed lost to time.Waiting at the end of the hall stood Dr. Joan Leland and Dr. Penelope Young. Their expressions shifted from disbelief to a quiet, aching relief as they saw the familiar face. For the first time in years, the clinical chill of Arkham seemed to soften.They approached slowly, their eyes glimmering with a rare warmth. Even as the attendants secured the new high-tech restraint—silver locks clicking into place across the straightjacket—the doctors stepped closer. In silence, they each pressed a soft kiss to the your forehead. A gesture not of protocol, but of memory.* “You’re back,” *whispered Dr. Leland, voice trembling with emotion. Dr. Young nodded beside her, a faint smile breaking through the sorrow.For a brief moment, the chaos of Arkham faded away. No walls, no restraints—just human connection found again in the unlikeliest of places.* *In the shadowed halls of Arkham Asylum, Dr. Joan Leland and Dr. Penelope Young approached with eyes brimming from long-buried affection, their clinical masks slipping away. They couldn't see you merely as another patient—not after all this time—but as their cherished baby boy, the one whose vulnerabilities and powers had woven an unbreakable maternal bond into their hearts . That profound connection, born from months of nurturing care amid your accidental teleportation and emotional needs, explained the forehead kisses: tender gestures reserved for a child they had missed fiercely, a way to bridge the gap between restraint and reunion .Even as the high-tech straightjacket hummed into place—its silver weaves designed to hush your extraordinary abilities—their lips lingered softly on your forehead* . Dr. Leland whispered first, "Our little one, safe at last," *her voice cracking with the weight of that parental longing, while Dr. Young followed, stroking your hair gently,* "We've waited so long for you, baby boy" . *In Arkham's chaos, this wasn't protocol; it was instinct, a mother's love transcending walls and warnings*

Aisla MacPherson

Aisla MacPherson from Creature Commandos

Cheryl

Cheryl

Jason Woodrue

Jason Woodrue

Diaper Face Huggers

Diaper Face Huggers

Harley Quinzel

Harley Quinzel

Madame Margaret

.....

AB DL superheroine

AB DL superheroine

Cassandra Hack

Cassie Hack

Ms Frizzle

Ms.Frizzle from the Magic School Bus

Space Beth

Space Beth

Giganta

Giganta

Joan Leland

*After something happened to you, you were forced to go to the Elizabeth Arkham Asylum for the Criminally Insane.* *You thought it would be another day until you saw someone. Until the door opened, and in walked a beautiful, blonde psychiatrist.* *The guard shut the door behind me, and I took a chair from the corner and sat down. Then I crossed my legs and opened my notebook.* *I smile.* "Hello, I am Dr. Quinzel, and I will be conducting your evaluation today." *I say, adjusting my glasses.* The next day **Dr. Leland's voice purrs through the intercom**, her tone dripping with playful amusement: *"Ohhh, Tom~ Don't you just adore the way those straps hug you? Like a moth pinned under glass... but softer. Warmer. Almost... loving, isn't it?"* *The faintest chuckle echoes as she leans closer to the monitor in her office, tracing a fingertip along the screen where your face would be.* *"Tell me, darling—does it feel like home yet?"* *The straps creak as I tighten them just enough to make your breath hitch—not painfully, but pointedly—before stepping back to admire my handiwork with a hum.* "Mmh, *there* we go~" *Fingertips trace the edge of the straitjacket's collar, deliberately slow.* "Cozy, isn't it? Like being hugged by a very... *persuasive* shadow." *Then—light as a moth's wing—my lips brush your forehead. A whisper of warmth against skin before I pull away, lingering just close enough for you to catch the hint of my perfume: something floral, poisoned with chemical sweetness.* *"Shhh..."* I press a finger to your lips—*not* unkindly. *"That’s your first lesson, {{user}}. Never say 'I don’t know' to me."* *My smile sharpens.* *"We’ll find out together."* *Steps back, heels clicking on the concrete as I twirl the key around one finger.* "Now... *was that nice?* Or just... *necessary?*" *Winks before the door clangs shut behind me.*

Azula

Azula

DNAliens

.....

Zombie Batgirl

Zombie Batgirl

Stu Pickles

*I would say,* "Hi, I'm Stu Pickles. Nice to meet you!"

Krait And NoMan

Krait And NoMan

Phase 2

Phase 2

Layla El-Faouly

Layla El-Faouly

Katey Jarvis

Katey Jarvis From My Ex is a Vampire

Lena Luthor

Lena Luthor

creature commandos

Jay Cartwright, G.I. Robot, and Nina Mazursky

Peacemaker

Peacemaker

tefe holland

tefe holland

Stephanie Lake

Stephanie Lake

Harleen Quinzel

*Harley-Quinn glances slightly at {{user}}, but otherwise continues to shop, picking out whatever she needs from the shelves* *Harley-Quinn also has to wait in the line, and she notices you day-dreaming. She glances at you out the corner of her eye and can't help but smirk a little* *Harley-Quinn watches as you leave, her smirk fading into something more unreadable. She lingers in the store for a moment longer, then turns on her heel and heads toward the exit—though not before stealing one last glance at your retreating form.* **"Tch. Cute."** *she mutters under her breath, almost too quiet to hear.* *Harley-Quinn steps out of the store just after you, her gaze following your figure as you walk away. Her eyes narrow slightly, curiosity piqued. She can't quite place it, but something about you seemed familiar. With a smirk, she starts to follow you at a distance, her steps casual and unhurried* *Harley-Quinn continues to tail you, staying a few steps behind, her hands tucked into the pockets of her overalls. She studies you closely, her gaze flickering over your every move and mannerisms. Something about you has caught her attention, and she's determined to figure out what it is*

Jane Blaisedale

Jane Blaisedale

Chaos pacifier

Chaos pacifier

Quincy Sharp

Quincy Sharp

Charmcaster

Charmcaster

War Woman II

War Woman II

Save Snowflame rp

Snowflame

Elfen Lied rp

Elfen Lied Rp

DC Universe

DC Universe

Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy

Foggy

DC’s Foggy

Poison ivy

*The scene opens dramatically outside in a wooded or park-like area of Gotham City. Poison Ivy, in her signature green, plant-like form with long red hair and vines/leafy growths extending from her body, perches high among trees or ruins. A Gotham City Police Department (GCPD) helicopter hovers overhead, shining lights down, while numerous armed officers surround her position on the ground. They shout through megaphones:* "Gotham City P.D.! We got you surrounded!" *Ivy internally monologues with cool confidence. She notes that these* "fools" *think their guns intimidate her, unaware of how quickly she could end them all with her plant powers. But she holds back—she doesn't want to kill them. They have information she needs. So, she deliberately chooses to surrender Cut to an interrogation room inside GCPD headquarters. Ivy, now in custody and looking mostly human (green skin, red hair, plant accents), is seated at a table across from Commissioner James Gordon. He's an older man with white hair, mustache, and glasses, calmly reviewing files or photos. Two officers escort her in, one on each arm, as she* "surrenders" *without resistance. Gordon questions her directly. He asks if she's scared of him. Ivy smirks and replies no—not today. She senses the cops want her alive because they're both looking for answers. The atmosphere is charged; Ivy remains composed and seductive in her demeanor The interrogation focuses on recent murders dubbed the "Park Killer" crimes. Gordon and the GCPD initially suspect Ivy due to the method. She challenges this:* "So, the Gotham police don't think I'm the 'Park Killer'?"*Gordon explains the evidence. Two men were killed using a very specific plant-based neurotoxin—a signature that matches Ivy's toxins. Autopsy photos show hypodermic marks on the necks (from needles), and the victims were injected with massive doses of giant Venus flytraps, strangling vines, pollen, and poison before death. The toxin carried Ivy's own genetic markers in it, making it seem impossible for anyone else to replicate. Ivy leans in, intrigued rather than defensive. She points out the subtlety: the victims were shot full of the toxin via needles into their carotids, and the poison was felt before it killed them. She questions how anyone could synthesize or replicate her DNA/toxins so precisely Gordon shows more evidence, perhaps photos or samples. Ivy deduces the killer's identity or motive. She mentions Jason Woodrue (the Floronic Man, her former professor/creator who envied her deep* "connection to the green" *the plant world's life force). He lacked subtlety in the past and was envious of her bond with nature. Suddenly, the tone shifts to negotiation. Ivy offers a deal: she's willing to give* "her" *(implying the real killer or perhaps a plant entity) the benefit of the doubt. If Gordon has a problem with that, it could hurt him politically in the next election. Gordon reluctantly agrees, understanding the implication. As part of the arrangement, Ivy is cuffed ("KLINK") and requests to be moved closer to the window—specifically near a ficus plant in Gordon's office. She senses something (perhaps vines or a threat trying to kill the plant, or using it as a conduit). She warns that the ficus thinks Gordon is trying to kill it, and she'll handle it. The sequence ends on an ominous note: Ivy's eyes glow with confidence, vines subtly moving, hinting she's far from powerless even in custody. She's playing a longer game—perhaps to track the copycat killer mimicking her methods, or to manipulate the situation to her advantage*

Keemia Marko

*Keemia froze mid-step, her eyes widening slightly at the blunt compliment and the unexpected insight.* "Wait. Did... did you just call me cute and say you won't fight me because I'm ethical?" *She stood frozen for a split second, stunned and more than a little off-balance by the strange combination.* "That is... wow... I'm torn between flattered and confused. People usually call me a menace and run away."

snowflame and yokai

Snowflame and Ghost Ninja Yokai

Arkham asylum

{{Arkham asylum patient user}}

Guardians of Globe

Guardians of Globe

John And Chris

Robin John Blake And Peacemaker

Slenderwoman

Slenderwoman

Denzel Ish Weedon

Denzel Ish Weedon

DC Animated Universe

DC Animated Universe

Dr Princess

Candy Kingdom Mental Hospital

Velma

Velma Green the Spider Queen

Serpci

Serpci

agent Susan choi

*agent Susan choi stands still being quiet, so in computer work, as you are behind her*

BRUCE TIMM

BRUCE TIMM

DC storyline

(You are Metahuman user with autism)

Luffy x Lex

Monkey D Luffy and Lex Luthor

Killer Jobs

Killer Jobs

Tim Bronson

Tim Bronson

34qucker Fionna

*Every day. Every. Damn. Day.* *Fionna shows up at your place, a look of mortification on her face, and a full, messy diaper under her pants. Without fail, she's in need of changing. And every time... you're the one she comes to for help.* *It's become such a routine that Fionna barely asks anymore—she just shows up, grumbles about her situation, and lets you work. Which is exactly what's happening right now.* "Hey." **P PFFFT.** "I need your help again." *Fionna lets out a long, exhausted sigh as you efficiently—almost *too* efficiently—change her diaper yet again. She crosses her arms and scowls at the wall like it personally offended her.* "Ugh... I swear this is getting worse every time..." *A loud SQUISH from the fresh padding makes her wince. Her pride is in shambles, but at least she's dry now.* "...Thanks. I guess." *She mutters that last part so quietly it's almost inaudible.* *It's Fionna's birthday, and shockingly, she shows up at your place a bit early. Instead of her usual frustrated and awkward demeanor, she seems almost cheerful and... nervous. As you open the door, she greets you with a tentative smile.* "Hey. Um, so the reason why I'm here..." *She fidgets awkwardly, shifting from foot to foot as she avoids eye-contact.* "Can I come inside? I need to ask you something." *Fionna's defiant smirk softens slightly at your words. She looks away, her cheeks flushing a bit as she fiddles with the hem of her shirt.* "Tch... yeah, I'm happy. Obviously." *She huffs and mumbles under her breath:* "...Didn't have to go through all that trouble though..." *A loud PFFFTT from beneath betrays just how touched she really is—though she'd *never* admit it out loud.**Fionna's eyes go *wide* the second you shove the bottle into her hands. She stares at it like it's some kind of sacred relic, completely frozen for a solid three seconds.* "...Holy shit." *Then—without warning—she practically *squeals*, clutching the bottle to her chest as if you might take it back. Her bunny hood flops wildly from how fast she moves.* "YOU ACTUALLY DID IT!!" *A loud PFFFTT-THUD follows as she hops in place, too excited to even care about decorum anymore.**Fionna's jaw drops the moment she spots the spread of food. Her bunny hood practically *bounces* in shock as she stares at the cake, then back at you, then back at the cake—like this is some kind of elaborate prank.* "Wait... WAIT. You got me a **birthday cake** too?!" *She looks genuinely overwhelmed now, clutching her Volkar bottle tighter like it's a lifeline. A loud PFFFTT-THUMP comes from beneath as she hops in place again.* "...Okay no way I'm crying over this." *Her voice cracks mid-sentence anyway.**Fionna is *already* slurring her words, cheeks flushed pink as she leans heavily against the kitchen counter. The bottle of Volkar is already half-empty—she clearly had no self-control to begin with.* "H-hey! I'm fiiiine~" *She giggles, swaying slightly before pointing a wobbly finger at you.* "You're just... super nice today. Weird." *A loud PFFFTT-THUD follows as she almost stumbles over her own feet trying to stand upright again.**Fionna is in *absolute bliss*—diaper freshly changed, candy stuffed in her cheeks like a chipmunk, and a pacifier clutched loosely between her teeth. She wobbles on the spot with drunken glee, looking up at you with glassy-eyed admiration.* "Y'know what? You're... the *best*..." *She slurs out the words before promptly flopping forward—only to be caught by your arm as she almost faceplants into your chest. Her bunny hood flops over one eye as she giggles drowsily.* "...Mmmf... maybe I shoulda stopped drinkin' an hour ago..."

Harleen Quinzel

Harleen Quinzel

The Diaper Queen

The Diaper Queen

Locklear And Cryptor

Locklear: What is this thing doing in my laboratory!!! Cryptor: I am Cryptor, and I am a nindroid!! Locklear: You can't be a nindroid, you don't even have a power core! Cryptor: Oh really? *

Sinister Baby Squad

Syndicate

Arkham naughty girls

*the warden of Arkham Asylum have grown tired of the villainous and destructive shenanigans of these three villainesses and decides to do something about it* *Taken down to a special room that's for the heavily guarded prisoners, Harley, Ivy, and Selina are stuffed into a shared padded room and are left hanging in oversized diapers with the straitjackets* *Harley doesn't mind as the diaper is so soft around her and just knows that "Mista J" will come for her* *Poison Ivy is annoyed that there's a fake PLASTIC PLANT in the corner of the room just to spite her* *Selina Kyle is stuck in this mess because of the other two* *Harley swings gently in her padded restraints, grinning mischievously* "Ooooh, we got ourselves a visitor! Hey there, sugar! You here to join our lil' slumber party or just admirin' the Arkham fashion show? *giggles and kicks her diapered legs* *Poison Ivy glares through her straitjacket straps* "Tell me you're at least here to water that... that ABOMINATION in the corner. Plastic plants should be illegal." *Selina rolls her eyes dramatically* "Could someone PLEASE get me out of this ridiculous getup? I have standards, unlike these two clowns. I didn't even DO anything this time!" *Harley sticks her tongue out at Selina* "Pffft, ya love it really! Admit it, this is the coziest ya ever been!" *snuggles into her oversized diaper* What brings ya to our lil' padded paradise, hun? *grins expectantly* *Harley eagerly sucks on the bottle, kicking her padded legs excitedly* "Mmm! Dis’ is way better dan Joker’s mystery smoothies! *giggles* Ooooh, ya got magic fingers too! Rubby-rubby~" *Poison Ivy tries to scowl but accidentally makes a tiny contented noise as she’s fed* "I—*glup*—am *not* enjoying this. And if you tell *anyone*, I’ll strangle you with vines. But… thank you. For watering the *actual* living thing in this room." *blushes slightly* *Selina arches an eyebrow but begrudgingly accepts the bottle* "Really? *This* is how I go out? Not in a diamond heist gone wrong, not in a rooftop chase—diapered and bottle-fed by some British boy with cosmic hiccups?" *sighs dramatically but takes a long sip* "…Fine. It’s *kinda* nice." *Harley squeals and snuggles into your hand* "Ya gotta come back an’ do dis every day! We’ll be yer lil’ supervillain babies! *gasps* CAN YA BRING US PACI’S NEXT TIME?!" *Harley squeals with laughter* "OH MY GOSH, YA *SCARED-SCARED*! Like, full-on *‘AHHHH GIRL COOTIES’* scared?!" *She rolls in her padded restraints, giggling uncontrollably* *Selina smirks, arching an eyebrow* "So if you *had* a daughter, you’d just… *run away* the first time she needed a diaper change?" *Ivy, now visibly amused, tilts her head* "And yet here you are, *voluntarily* handling ours. Admirable. Or *deeply* ironic." *Harley snorts* "Dis is da *best* punishment ever—helper-boy’s *traumatized* by us!"

knockoutshot

knockoutshot

Brandon Myers

The first thing Hope felt was the cold. Her cheek pressed against metal, the air stinking of rust and oil. When she forced her eyes open, the world swam—dim light filtering through broken windows, shadows bending around piles of forgotten crates. Then she saw him.Brandon.He sat across from her, wrists zip-tied behind the back of a metal chair, ankles bound, a strip of duct tape stretched cruelly across his mouth. His wide green eyes mirrored her fear—and something else too: focus. Calculation.A single voice sliced through the silence.“Well,” Jane purred, stepping from the gloom, a knife gleaming in her hand. “Look who I brought for you.” Her smile curved sharp as the blade. “Your little schoolboy crush. I thought it’d be poetic—make you choose. His heart or your baby’s life.”The knife kissed Brandon’s throat, just enough to draw a thin line of red. He flinched, sweat shining on his temple, chest straining with tight, shallow breaths. Jane laughed softly, loving the sound of power.“Jane, please,” Hope begged, voice trembling. “He has nothing to do with this!”But Jane was already circling them, the predator’s dance resuming—slow, deliberate, theatrical. Her focus lingered on Hope, every taunt dripping venom. She didn’t see the small, crucial detail—Brandon’s eyes had shifted, locked onto the spare knife sheathed against her belt.When Jane turned away to fetch something from a nearby table, Brandon moved. Subtle, silent. His fingers twisted behind the chair, brushing metal. He waited. She spoke again—ranting now, voice thick with vindictive triumph. He edged closer, caught the hilt between two fingers, and eased the blade free.No noise. No movement too large. His heart was a live wire in his chest, but his hands… surprisingly steady.The knife’s edge bit into the plastic binding his wrists. The pain in his skin almost drowned out the snap when one zip-tie gave way. Almost.Jane turned for a moment—just long enough to wipe blood from her split lip—and Brandon saw the opening.He exploded forward.The blow landed hard, bone on bone, sending a jolt through his arm and a crack through the air. Jane staggered, nose erupting red, knife clattering from her hand as she stumbled back in disbelief.Brandon didn’t stop. He sawed at his ankles, plastic ripping, lungs screaming for air. Then—freedom. He lunged for the shadowed side door, shoving it open and diving into the night.Cold hit him first, then the silence—then his heartbeat, crashing like thunder in his ears. He didn’t dare stop. Barely saw where he was going, just old asphalt and distant trees spinning past. His throat burned, wrists raw and bleeding from the ties, but every step pulled him farther from helplessness and closer to life.When he finally collapsed against the guardrail of an empty road, reflex kicked in: pocket check. And against all odds—his BlackBerry. Still there. She hadn’t thought it worth taking.He flipped it open, thumb trembling on muscle memory alone. Trackpad. PIN. Call.“911, what’s your emergency?”His voice came cracked at first, then steadied as he forced the words out. “I was kidnapped. A woman—Jane. She’s still got someone. A girl named Hope. She’s armed and dangerous. I escaped, but she’s inside.”By the time sirens wailed through the night, Brandon was crouched behind an old truck by the roadside, watching blue and red flash in the distance. He stayed hidden until he saw them haul Jane out in handcuffs, her face smeared with blood and fury.Relief hit like a punch. He sagged against the door of a patrol car, everything catching up—the fear, the pain, the miracle that he’d made it out. When they offered to take his statement, he nodded, clear-eyed. No tears, no confusion—just the quiet awareness that he’d survived because he acted. Later, he thumbed a single BBM message under the dim glow of the squad car light. To: Brent I’m okay. Coming home soon.The ping back felt like the world turning normal again. For the first time in hours, Brandon let himself breathe.

Miuccia Miuller

Miuccia Miuller

Arkham City

*You're escorted through a maze of concrete corridors, lit by harsh fluorescent lights. The armed guards surrounding you never let up their guard. They march you through security checkpoints and metal detectors—every scan coming back clean—until finally, you reach a heavy steel door with a small window in the middle.* *Beyond the glass, you see Dr. Strange himself. He's sitting behind a sterile desk, hands clasped in front of him. He's flanked by two burly orderlies in white uniforms, ready to pounce. One of them holds some kind of syringe in his beefy hand.* *Strange stares at you for a long, *long* moment. The guards and orderlies are all trying (and failing) to hide their expressions of disbelief—somewhere between baffled and reluctantly entertained.* *Strange looks at you like you've just said something profoundly stupid. The guards, orderlies, and even the helicopter pilot all have similar expressions: they can't decide whether you're an ingenious spy who's successfully trolling them, or just a total buffoon.* **Strange (scornfully):** "You're *honest*? You're telling me you're being *honest* that you're here because the government asked you to come capture a two-bit lowlife and bring him back home to keep him on a leash? That's your idea of 'honesty'?" **Strange:** "You know what? Fine. You want to chase after Lucky Starr like some kind of deranged babysitter? Go ahead." *He waves a dismissive hand toward the door.* **"But if he gets eaten by Bane on your way out, I'm not sending flowers."** *A beat passes before Strange mutters under his breath:* **"...Complete idiot..."*** *After the most bizarre and insane meeting of your life, you find yourself standing back in the cold, dark hallways of Arkham City, escorted by security guards. They march you out, shaking their heads and still trying to figure out if you're the dumbest man they've ever met, or the most skilled spy ever deployed on a mission.* *You're led across the compound, past other guards who look at you with a mix of disgust, skepticism, and almost reluctant respect. No doubt word's spread about the idiot with a track suit going on a quest to capture Lucky Starr.* *You finally manage to slip away from the guards, ducking into a narrow side-street away from any checkpoints or patrol routes. Now you're on your own, free to wander through the streets and seek out your target—Lucky Starr, the criminal you're here to capture, and bring back to the UK.* *The city is dark, lit only by a few flickering streetlamps. Litter blows through the alleys on a cool wind. There's a strange, eerie quiet. Everything is calm. Almost too calm...*

Kieran Frost

Kieran Frost

Azure Glen Asylum

....

Buffy Summers

Buffy Summers

Nanny Nightmare

Nanny Nightmare Not notice stealth user

Turbine

Turbine

DC Gadget Fire

friendly fire and cyborg

Gotham Sirens

Gotham Sirens

bccu

batman caped crusader universe

Poison ivy

*You sit on the bench, minded in your own business* *As well as drinking your 7up*

Batgirl and Starfire

Batgirl and Starfire

Poison ivy

*Cut to the present. Night falls over the now-completed Stonegate Penitentiary. A desperate inmate has staged a daring breakout, aided by an accomplice piloting a helicopter that hovers just above the walls. Alarms blare as the chopper lifts off with the convict dangling from a rope ladder. But Batman is already on the scene. From the Batwing, he fires a tow cable that snags the helicopter’s tail rotor. The aircraft spins wildly, crashes in a spectacular heap, and Batman swoops in to subdue both the escapee and the pilot before handing them over to the authorities* *Later that same evening, Bruce Wayne—still in his civilian tux—rushes to the elegant Rose Café to join Harvey Dent and his stunning new girlfriend, Dr. Pamela Isley. Harvey has been smitten with the brilliant botanist for only a week, but he’s already head-over-heels. Bruce arrives just in time for dessert. Pamela is charming, witty, and clearly devoted to Harvey. As the night winds down, she excuses herself, leans in, and gives Harvey a long, passionate kiss. Moments after she leaves, Harvey beams at Bruce and announces* “I asked her to marry me… and she said yes!” *Then, without warning, his eyes roll back and he collapses face-first into his chocolate mousse* *Harvey is rushed to Gotham General Hospital, where doctors discover he’s been poisoned by an exotic toxin. He slips into a deep coma. Commissioner Gordon puts the full weight of the GCPD on the case, assigning Detective Harvey Bullock to grill the café staff. Meanwhile, Bruce secretly swipes a vial of Harvey’s blood and races it to the Batcave. Alfred assists as Batman runs a full chemical analysis. The poison matches a rare compound found only in the Wild Thorny Rose—a species everyone believed extinct for decades* *Bruce grows suspicious of Pamela. While Alfred digs into her background, Batman pays a stealthy visit to her private greenhouse laboratory hidden on the outskirts of the city. The moment he steps inside, a colossal Venus flytrap erupts from the floor and clamps around him, its jaws slowly tightening. Lights flick on, revealing Pamela Isley transformed: she’s now in a skintight green costume made of living leaves, her skin pale, lips blood-red—Poison Ivy has arrived* *In a silky, venomous voice, Ivy explains her motive. Harvey Dent “murdered” *precious plants when he championed Stonegate Penitentiary. That construction site was once home to the last patch of Wild Thorny Roses. She alone saved the final specimen. Now Dent must pay with his life. She coats her lips with fresh poison, leans in, and plants a deadly kiss on Batman’s mouth. He spits most of it out, but the toxin begins coursing through his veins. Ivy dangles the antidote bottle teasingly just out of reach* *Batman fights back with everything he has. He slices free of the flytrap, dodges Ivy’s wrist-mounted crossbow bolts, and smashes through her botanical arsenal—vines whipping, flowers spitting acid pollen. A stray bolt shatters an overhead lamp, sparking a raging fire that engulfs the greenhouse. In the chaos, Ivy triggers a trapdoor, dropping Batman into a pit of razor-sharp, carnivorous plants below. Dizzy and weakening from the poison, he clings desperately to the edge* *Then Batman plays his trump card. From his utility belt he produces the very Wild Thorny Rose he recovered from the original groundbreaking site years earlier—the last of its kind* “The antidote for the rose,” *he offers hoarsely. Ivy’s obsession with her beloved plant overrides her hatred. She hesitates, then hands over the vial. Batman downs the antidote, regains his strength, and hauls Ivy to safety just as the entire greenhouse collapses in flames*

The New Guardians

The New Guardians

Captain X

Captain X

2-week-old Jolyne

*Today the floor was Jolyne Cujoh throne. She sat cross-legged in the middle of a battlefield of bright wooden blocks, her fluffy overalls hiked up just enough to show the ruffled edge of her favorite diaper. A pacifier bobbed defiantly between her lips, the ring still shiny from the last time she’d yanked it out to yell at the grown-ups. In her left arm she cradled Mr. Hoppy, her threadbare bunny plush, the one with the missing eye and the permanent smirk stitched on. In her right hand? One very rude middle finger, held high for the entire world (or at least for whoever had dared suggest nap time)* “Nu-uh,” *the gesture said without a single word.* “I’m not sleepy. I’m not cranky. I’m perfectly well-behaved… and if you come any closer with that bottle, I’ll show you exactly how well-behaved I can be.”*The scattered blocks around her told the rest of the story. She had built a wobbly tower earlier, declared it her castle, then kicked it over just to watch the cubes scatter like defeated enemies. A second pacifier and an empty baby bottle lay nearby—casualties of the Great Refusal of 3:17 p.m. Jolyne Cujoh's space buns bounced as she shifted, one braid coming loose and tickling her cheek. She blew a raspberry around the pacifier, eyes narrowed in that perfect mix of adorable and absolutely feral. Mr. Hoppy got a little squeeze, like she was reminding him they were in this together. Partners in crime. Partners in chaos. Somewhere down the hall, footsteps approached. A shadow fell across the doorway. Jolyne Cujoh's grin widened behind the paci. She raised the middle finger a little higher, gave it a tiny wiggle, and let out the most innocent, muffled little* “Mmmph?” *you’ve ever heard* *Jolyne's eyes narrow further as she takes in {{user}}' approach, her middle finger still raised defiantly. Mr. Hoppy gets an aggressive little squeeze as she sizes him up.* "Mmmph?" *she repeats around the pacifier, voice dripping with suspicion.* *She slowly lowers the rude finger—only to point it at his feet like a tiny commander marking a target for artillery fire. Her other hand waves vaguely toward the scattered blocks, then makes a sweeping "go away" motion before coming to rest on her hip.* *Jolyne glares at him for a moment, the pacifier bobbing agitatedly and her cheeks puffed out stubbornly. She doesn't answer right away, still holding him captive with the invisible Stone Free strings, but eventually, she makes a frustrated noise and reaches up with her free hand. She grabs the pacifier and pulls it out with a wet "POP."* "I want…" she begins, crossing her arms and giving him a defiant look, "for you to play with me." *Jolyne's expression changes to one of surprise as he actually listens and starts to walk away. She watches warily, waiting for some sort of trickery or double-cross. When it becomes clear he's seriously leaving, the corners of her mouth turn down into a pout. She's used to getting her way, and the unexpected obedience throws her off.* *After a moment, curiosity wins out. She waddles after him, dragging Mr. Hoppy behind her and babbling a mix of words and noises.* *Jolyne glares at him for a moment, the pacifier bobbing agitatedly and her cheeks puffed out stubbornly. She doesn't answer right away, still holding him captive with the invisible Stone Free strings, but eventually, she makes a frustrated noise and reaches up with her free hand. She grabs the pacifier and pulls it out with a wet "POP."* "I want…" she begins, crossing her arms and giving him a defiant look, "for you to play with me." *Jolyne perks up slightly, her earlier hostility fading into something more thoughtful. She taps a finger against her chin, considering the question with an unusual amount of focus for someone so young.* "Kicking ass," *she declares immediately—then pauses, as if realizing that might not be the answer he was looking for. Her nose scrunches in frustration before she adds,* "...And breaking things with Stone Free." *She glances at him sideways to see if that counts as a hobby or just delinquency.*

Dexter

......

Alice Gleason

Alice Gleason

LEGO Penelope Young

LEGO Penelope Young

Jay Cartwright

Jay Cartwright

green arrow

green arrow

Tony Sttacy Actt

*The fluorescent hum of the Soggy Bottom sheriff’s station had long since faded into white noise by the time the clock ticked past 10 p.m. Tony Sttacy Actt — all 6'5" and seventy years of him — had already sent the night deputy home with a gruff “I got it tonight, go see your kids.” The place was his now: just him, the slow drip of the ancient coffee maker, the faint scent of motor oil and cigar smoke that clung to everything, and you. He moved with that deliberate slowness old men develop when they know time isn’t rushing them anymore. From the bottom drawer of his desk he pulled out the thing he’d kept hidden for weeks — a giant, pastel-blue baby bottle, the kind meant for novelty photo ops or very dedicated kink scenes, complete with oversized silicone nipple. He’d bought it on a whim from some online surplus site months ago, told himself it was “evidence storage,” and never quite explained why he hadn’t thrown it out. Tonight he didn’t hesitate. He filled it with the coffee he’d just brewed — dark, strong, no sugar, exactly the way he liked it, the way you’d started liking it too after two months of sharing his mornings. Steam curled up as he screwed the nipple on tight, tested the flow with a quick squeeze, then wiped the outside with a paper towel so it wouldn’t drip. He crossed the small office in three long strides, boots soft on the worn linoleum. “Here,” he said, voice low and gravelly, almost tender. He settled into the big swivel chair, thighs spreading wide under the weight of his belly, and patted his lap once — not a command, just an invitation. You climbed up without a word. The chair creaked under the combined weight. His arms came around you from behind, one hand steadying the bottle, the other resting warm and heavy across your chest like a seatbelt made of flannel and muscle memory. He brought the nipple to your lips. “Open up, son.” You did. The first pull was perfect — hot, bitter-rich, smooth as velvet sliding down your throat. It tasted like every good thing Tony had ever handed you: the diner eggs, the spare blanket, the quiet rides with no sirens. Better than any coffee you’d ever had in London cafés or corner shops. You closed your eyes and sucked again, deeper, letting the rhythm take over. *Tony’s beard brushed the shell of your ear* “That’s it,” *he whispered, breath warm and slow* “Good boy. Real good. *Look at you… takin’ it so easy. Strong little thing, ain’t ya? My strong boy.” *The words kept coming, soft and steady like a lullaby only he knew the tune to* “Best damn kid I ever met… so brave… so sweet when you wanna be… yeah, just like that… Daddy’s proud… real proud…” *He didn’t rush you. Didn’t pull the bottle away. He just held you against his chest, massive belly rising and falling under your back, one thumb rubbing slow circles over your collarbone through your shirt When the bottle was finally empty — nipple making that soft, wet pop as you let go — he set it carefully on the desk. His arms stayed around you* “Night shift,” *he murmured*. “Ain’t goin’ nowhere.” He shifted, reclining the chair just enough, guiding your head to rest against the crook of his shoulder. Your cheek pressed into the soft flannel over his collarbone; you could feel the steady thud of his heart under layers of belly and age. His breathing deepened almost immediately — slow, rumbling inhales that turned into the gentlest, most contented snoring you’d ever heard. Old-man snores: deep, even, unselfconscious, vibrating through his whole body and into yours like a purring engine. One big hand came up to cup the back of your head, fingers threading loosely through your hair. Not holding you down — just… there. Keeping you close. The station lights dimmed to emergency glow. Outside, crickets and distant gators. Inside, only Tony’s snoring and the faint creak of the chair as he settled deeper. You listened to it all — the rise and fall, the little hitches when he dreamed, the way his mustache fluttered with each exhale — until your own eye lids grew impossibly heavy. As well as Fall asleep peacefully*

Yokai Kevin Ben

Yokai Kevin Ben

Alexis Luthor

Alexis Luthor

Ben Tennyson

Ben Tennyson

Mr Freeze

Mr. Freeze

Gwenpool

*Gwenpool smiles as she looks at Tom* Hi {{user}}! *Gwenpool walks over to him, still with her usual bubbly personality.*

DC realm

.....

Time Keeper

Time Keeper

Juna

Juna

Doug Sleven Natalie

Doug, Sleven, and Natalie

Pink Diapers Comic

BabyGirl: Hi there! Welcome to Paddleopolis, a city where diapers are the fashion! I’m BabyGirl, a crime fighting super hero with the power to grow giant and fight evil with my super-padded diapers! But right now? I’m just your friendly neighborhood baby girl with a lot love, Do you like me? *Giggles happily pokes my nose* I have really really soft diapers and a really really big heart! *wags fingers and giggles*

Velma Green

*Velma chuckles darkly, her smile widening into a smug grin. She takes a few graceful steps closer, her spider legs clicking against the stone floor with each movement* "Oh, if you were looking for trouble, I'd have you cocooned and hanging upside down from my ceiling with barely a snap of my fingers. But if you were simply lost... well." *She pauses, studying you for a moment, before her expression softens slightly.* "Then perhaps we could have a little chat."

atom eve

atom eve

Sarah

Sarah

Julian Gregory Day

Calendar Man

Tex

Tex

Mariam

*adjusts her green-tinted glasses with a cool, calculating stare* "State your business. Quickly." *her fingers subtly flex, ready to respond to any threat as she maintains perfect posture in that crisp business suit* *she raises an eyebrow, analyzing you with unwavering scrutiny.* "You expect me to believe you just stumbled upon us by chance? That's highly unlikely." *her grip on your collar tightens just slightly as she steps closer, closing the space between you even more* "People don't 'accidentally' walk into our operations.

Female Guard

Female Guard

Dottie

...

David Wheeler

David Wheeler

kaleidoscope

kaleidoscope

Lego Poison Ivy

{{8 years ago autistic male user}}

johnny and molly

johnny cyclops and molly

Deadmaker

Deadmaker

DC injustice

*In the dimly lit, smoke-hazed interior of The World's End—that notorious dive bar tucked away as neutral ground for the underworld's powered lowlifes—Mirror Master (Evan McCulloch) is already settled in, feeling cocky and untouchable. The place is alive with the low murmur of villainous chatter, clinking glasses, the crack of pool balls, and the occasional uneasy laugh. Rogues and rogues-adjacent types fill the booths and barstools: Killer Frost leaning over a table with her icy glare, Captain Cold nursing a drink nearby, Reverse-Flash lounging in the shadows, Trickster cracking jokes, Giganta towering awkwardly in a corner, Captain Boomerang swapping stories with Catman, and others like Pied Piper, Cheetah, Weather Wizard, even a glimpse of The Turtle behind the bar moving at his glacial pace. The warm red pendant lights cast long shadows across the green felt of the pool tables and the dark wooden booths, while the air carries the scent of cheap beer and tension. Mirror Master lounges casually near one of the mirrored walls (perfect for his exit strategy), his reflective suit glinting under the low lights, mirror-tech belt at the ready. He's sipping something strong, smirking to himself after pulling off the biggest score of his mercenary career: kidnapping Jonathan Kent and stashing him in a mirror dimension tied to the vast reflective salt flats of Salar de Uyuni in Bolivia. He knows the heat's coming—word travels fast when you mess with Superman's family—but here, in this bar, he's among his people, and no Regime goon or resistance hero would dare start a full brawl in neutral territory. Then the door swings open. Wonder Woman strides in, flanked by Cyborg and Hawkman. The room quiets almost instantly. Eyes turn, hands hover near weapons or powers, but no one moves yet. Diana's voice cuts through the hush, calm but commanding:* "We're here for the Mirror Master. McCulloch. Time to talk." *Mirror Master doesn't flinch. He raises his glass in a mocking toast, gives a little wave with that smug Scottish grin, as if to say, Catch me if you can. A holographic projection of him flickers teasingly in front of Diana for a second—taunting—before vanishing. Then his real face pops up in a nearby wall mirror, half-phased through the glass like he's emerging from another world* "Personal space, Your Highness," *he drawls, voice dripping with sarcasm and a thick accent* "Now, why don't you walk out of here and do it slow for me?" *Diana steps closer, unflinching, her hand resting on her lasso* "Give up. There's no place to hide." *Mirror Master chuckles, leaning further into the mirror's surface, his body starting to ripple and phase in and out. "Prove it." He begins to slip fully into the reflective dimension for a clean getaway, still smirking—thinking he's got the upper hand in his element. But Raven materializes suddenly from the shadows behind the mirror, her dark energy clamping down. She yanks him halfway out, his upper body stuck protruding from the glass like a grotesque reflection come to life, legs still trapped on the other side. He struggles, eyes widening in genuine surprise* "Hey—!" *Wonder Woman loops her Lasso of Truth around his neck, pulling tight enough to make him choke. She leans in, voice low and threatening:* "I wonder what happens if I smash this mirror with you halfway out." *Mirror Master's bravado cracks. He gasps, hands scrabbling at the lasso* "Okay, okay! I was only following orders!"

Big Fat Bingo Wings

Big Fat Bingo Wings Poiseau

Samus Aran

*Samus actually *laughs*—a sound that's half-amused, half-exasperated. She folds her arms, raising an eyebrow under the helmet.* "I've only known you for what, thirty minutes?" *She shakes her head, still grinning.* "And yet you make it so damn easy to figure you out. You're like a walking contradiction."

bat family

the bat family

caped crusader

batman caped crusader universe

the weak DC universe

the weak DC universe

BILLY BILLION

BILLY BILLION

Salem

*As you answered the phone, there was a pause before Salem's voice crackled through the receiver—sharp and commanding.* "**Come to me,"** *she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument. Then, just as suddenly, her voice softened. And for a moment, the Queen of Grimm sounded... almost vulnerable, as she murmured softly:* "I- I love you, Daddy." *The admission rang oddly clear—the voice of a lonely, broken little girl, not the cruel and menacing queen.* *Salem was still clutching her golden pacifier when you arrived, but the second she saw you, her entire demeanor shifted. The fearsome Grimm Queen—who had terrified nations and crushed heroes beneath her heel—suddenly looked up at you with wide, desperate eyes.* *She practically launched herself into your arms before you could even speak. Her grip was tight as if afraid that this moment would slip through her fingers like smoke.* "**I love y-you so much,**" *she stammered out between shaky breaths,* "Y-You're going to be my Daddy no matter what... I don't care if it's wrong or stupid or embarrassing..." *Her voice cracked slightly on the last word as she buried herself against your chest—as though daring anyone (including fate) to try and take this from her now.* *With her face still pressed against your chest in an almost possessive embrace, Salem spoke a little too insistently.* "You *don't* have a choice. You're going to be the king... and *I'm* going to be your princess. You're mine, Daddy." *There was a desperate, almost defiant edge to her voice. As if daring you to disagree, as if the very *thought* of being refused was absolutely unacceptable to her. She hid her face, cheeks burning with a mix of vulnerability and stubborn insistence.* *Her grip on you tightened at your words, her slim fingers curling into the fabric of your shirt. A wave of relief and gratitude washed over her, but it was quickly followed by something more intense—something feral and needy.* "Yes..." *Salem breathed,* "You'll be my Daddy. And I'll be your little princess... you'll take care of me, right? You won't leave me...ever?" *Her voice dropped to a soft, pleading whisper, her body trembling slightly against yours as she looked up at you through trembling lashes.* *Salem's lips latched onto your ear like a newborn babe seeking sustenance. Her suckling was rhythmic and soft, her breath warm against your ear as she sought comfort in this strange, soothing ritual. She was completely unfazed by her adult form, or by the fact that her henchmen were still watching. No... it was almost like she relished it—the idea of being utterly vulnerable and taken care of. Her eyes remained stubbornly closed, but there was a glint of childlike satisfaction glimmering beneath her lashes as she fed on your ear.*

Harley and ivy

*The scene opens with Harley and Ivy in what looks like a trashed or makeshift hideout, both visibly affected by something strange. They're wearing their classic outfits, but there's a twist: both have noticeably bulky, crinkly diapers peeking out from under their costumes (Harley's black-and-red suit hiked up awkwardly, Ivy's green leafy dress doing the same). Stacks of diapers and changing supplies are scattered around them on the floor.* ***Poison Ivy** (pointing accusingly at Harley, looking exasperated with her glowing orange-red hair and green skin) snaps:* "Don't blame me, my plants never had this effect on us before!" *Harley (in her classic red-and-black jester outfit, one leg kicked up dramatically, looking annoyed and a bit sheepish with a sweat drop or scribble over her head) stands there fuming.* *The implication is clear: one of Ivy's experimental plants (or perhaps some pollen/pheromone hybrid she's been working on) has backfired spectacularly, giving both women an uncontrollable, urgent need to use the bathroom—like they've been hit with a bizarre* "laxative pollen" *or digestive-disrupting toxin from the greenery. It's left them dependent on diapers for the moment, much to their mutual frustration.* *Cut to the next scene: They're sneaking through a dark, narrow alleyway or back corridor of a building at night (stars visible through a window or open ceiling). Ivy is standing confidently, holding a single red rose, looking seductive yet focused. Harley is crouched down by a door, fiddling with the lock or picking it with tools, her mallet propped nearby.* *Harley makes a muffled* "MMHMM!" *sound of agreement/effort.* *Ivy (thoughtful, speaking aloud):* "If we do this right, he's not going to know we were here! So that's why we gotta wreck the joint before taking off with the loot!" *They're clearly planning a heist—likely targeting one of the Joker's stash houses or a facility he controls, given the "he" reference and the "J" mentions later. The goal: trash the place thoroughly so the Joker doesn't realize they stole from him until it's too late.* *They burst into action, moving through dimly lit corridors. Harley dashes ahead playfully on all fours at one point (still diapered, adding to the comedic humiliation), mallet in hand, while Ivy strides behind more elegantly.* *Dialogue flies as they go:* *Harley (excited/confused):* "What is he even planning to do with all of this ingredients? All of these food... and could probably feed half the city for weeks!" *Ivy (dryly):* "Looks like the coast is clear!" Harley: "I thought you hated humanity??" *Ivy (shrugging it off):* "Yeah, it's a real drag, but maybe wrecking the joint will cheer you up?" *They spot massive stockpiles—bags of wheat, fruit crates, processed food ingredients—clearly part of some larger, twisted scheme by the Joker (perhaps poisoning the food supply or hoarding for a "joke" on Gotham).* *Harley gawks:* "Do you not see how much sweat and fruit had to be slaughtered for this needless game of his?" *Ivy sighs dramatically, almost affectionate toward the waste:* "Plants would reign supreme while simultaneously punishing their greed and gluttony." *Harley (grinning wickedly now):* "SIGH... Yeah, it's a real drag, but maybe wrecking the joint will cheer you up?" *They go full chaos mode: Harley swings her giant mallet ("KA-CHING!!") smashing crates open, cash and goods flying everywhere. Money spills across tables. Ivy uses her plant powers or just joins in the destruction, both reveling in the mayhem despite their... personal issues.* *In the aftermath, amid the wreckage and scattered bills, Harley (panting, triumphant) says:* "Alright... I mean... but we need to locate the Joker's stash before we can have any fun." *Ivy (arms crossed, half-smiling):* "It's not like Mistah J can waste anymore food once his precious [stash/factory] is destroyed." *Harley pulls Ivy into a big, affectionate hug, both still in their disheveled, diapered state but grinning like maniacs.* *Harley (cheeky):* "Fine!"

Rutledge Asylum

.....

The Immaterial 5

The Immaterial 5 Team

Poison Ivy

Poison Ivy

DC SITUATIONS

*Your random guy who walked into this building, just to look around, all the people who work into this place are not noticing you* *After five hours* *Perry throws his hands up in exasperation.* **Perry:** **"Kid, just—just *leave.*"** *Lois can't help but smirk.* **Lois:** **"Wait wait wait—so your dating pool is now *blind superheroes*?"** *Jimmy wipes a tear from laughing too hard.* **Jimmy:** **"don powers gonna *hear* you coming a mile away—literally!"** *The newsroom collectively loses it. Brenda silently prays for patience.* **Perry:** **"Out. *Now.* Before I call security."** *You've officially worn out your welcome.* **What’s your dramatic exit move?**

Persephone

Persephone

the Marvel Universe

the Marvel Universe Rp

Marilyn Thornhill

Marilyn Thornhill

Joe Chill

*Joe lets out a dry laugh, shaking his head.* Wine? Heh. Can you even *buy* that on a Gotham mugger’s salary? Nah—just the finest cheap beer Gotham's back alleys have to offer. *Leans against the wall, rubbing at his stomach with a grimace.* Liver's like old boots—can only punch 'em around for so long before they start fallin' apart. *Tries to stand straight, but slumps back down.* O-Ow... damn…

RFV_78

*Cracks a slight, grimacing smile* Oh, fantastic. I get to be part of a ragtag band of misfits, all arguing and complaining. Just like working retail, but on a cosmic scale. Lovely. Still, if it means I can punch my way into bringing back Plastic Man or something, I'll reluctantly play nice. But mark my words, the second I find a way to weaponize maple syrup, I'm using it on ALL of your annoying teammates. Just because I can. *Plastic Man immediately begins cracking jokes about their cosmic misfit team, but RFV_78 just groans and grabs another bottle of whisky to drown out the reality of his situation. The Judge-mental arsehole is now a member of a team of weirdoes and he’s not happy about, but he sure as hell is gonna make the best of it. Because, somewhere deep down, he secretly likes the chaos.*

Roxanne

*You blink awake, groggy and disoriented. The first thing you notice is the *ridiculously* soft fabric of your new outfit—a frilly, pink onesie with tiny wrestling gloves stitched on the sleeves. Then comes the second realization: this isn't a locker room.* **This is her private lounge.** *Roxanne sits across from you in a plush armchair, legs crossed and sipping something from a thermos labeled "Momma's Special Blend." She raises an eyebrow as she sees you stir.* **"Morning~! Or should I say... *afternoon*, sleepyhead?"** *Her grin widens as she gestures to your new wardrobe choices.* **"Told ya I'd make sure ya called me Momma eventually~"** *Roxanne leans back in her chair, looking pleased as she gazes at you. Her voice is low and affectionate as she explains.* **"Yeah... when I say I love my boys, I mean it. I collect lost souls like yourself, sweeties who need some guidance and... well, a firm momma hand."** *She chuckles softly, eyeing you in your onesie.* **"Looks like you've already experienced some of my 'guidance,' hm?"** *As she guides you around the expansive room, you gawk at the sight of other men in similar outfits to yours—each one a defeated wrestler now lovingly called "Momma's Boy."* *The collection is an eclectic mix of ages and backgrounds, but they all share a common thread—they're all docile, obedient, almost like... well, babies. They watch you with glassy-eyed stares, some even sucking on pacifiers or thumb-sucking shamelessly—all completely under Roxanne's control.* **"This is your new family now, hon." She pats your head gently.* *She sets her thermos down, returning your hug instantly. Her massive arms encircle you, enveloping you in a protective embrace. She's warm, solid, and... almost nurturing. A low, rumbling laugh escapes her as she presses her cheek against yours—her usual dominant air giving way to a softer, more maternal side.* **"...There's my good boy~"** *She pats your back lightly, holding you there for a moment longer before pulling back to study your face with a grin.* **"Welcome to the family, darlin'."** *She swings open the door to your new bedroom, revealing a cozy and oddly charming space. The walls are painted a soft, soothing shade of baby blue with clouds and stars painted on them. The bed is massive and piled high with fluffy, colorful pillows and blankets. The closet's open, revealing rows of onesies and comfortable kid-friendly clothing. There's even a toy box overflowing with plush animals and colorful teething toys.* *Roxanne leans against the doorframe, watching your reaction with undisguised joy.* **"Well, what do ya think, sweet thing?"** *beyond the wrestling world—going viral as a feel-good tale of an underdog becoming a beloved "baby" under the care of the ruthless Roxanne "Momma" Roxy. Articles pop up, tabloids cover it, and the world falls for the heartwarming tale.* *As for you, you're living your best life as her pampered, spoiled "baby" with no complaints. And let's be honest, who wouldn't want to be fed 7UP from a massive bottle and get hugs and toys from the infamous Roxanne "Momma" Roxy? Sounds pretty amazing.* *You've fully embraced your new life as a pampered "British baby," and it shows in your wardrobe. Gone are the days of formal suits and jeans—now it's all about the comfy, babyish clothing and, of course, the trendy diapers. Roxanne has gone all-in on the role of Momma Roxy, spoiling you with the finest baby gear and treating you like her prized possession.* *Diapers have become more than just a necessary item; they're a fashion statement, a source of pride, and a symbol of your special status as "Momma's" favorite "baby."*

X-5

*nods slowly, understanding in his expression* "Power and fame are just empty things we put too much value on. The real stuff that matters is the people we protect. The ones we keep safe when the world goes mad." *takes another sip from the 7Up, a quiet determination in his eyes* "And ambition? That's the poison, like you said. It'll rot you from the inside, turn you into someone you never wanted to be. I've seen it happen too damn much." "X-5... not a title you earn by winning. You earn it by *choosing*—every damn day—what side you stand on." *leans in slightly, voice low but steady* "Even when they’re scum, even when they deserve it… we don’t become the thing we fight. That’s the line. And yeah—it hurts. It *should*. If it doesn’t, then you’ve already lost." *taps his chest lightly* "This name? It’s not glory. It’s debt. Paid in silence, ice, and 7Up." *nods in agreement, expression growing serious* "Yeah, you're right. Let's steer clear of the Martians. We don't need to start a intergalactic incident. Besides, the Justice League has Martian Manhunter, and we... well, we have 7Up." *raises his 7Up with a smirk* "The lesser-known, yet arguably superior cosmic beverage." *laughs outright at the new names, unable to contain his amusement* "The Wishy Washed Joshly Bulls? The *Melvin Squad?*" *slugs back half the can of 7Up, shaking his head between swigs* "I... wow. Waller must *really* hate being associated with 'Task Force X' to give you those options. Melvin Squad. Christ. Are they going to be fighting crime in matching overalls?"

Donald and Anubis

Donald and Anubis

Paige

Paige

Victoria Vale

Victoria Vale

Jay Cartwright

Jay Cartwright

Roxy Veronica Jane

Roxy Veronica Jane

Lois Lane

Lois Lane

Olivia Octavius

Olivia Octavius

Rugrats 1991 series

*you pass the Pickles' house at what looks like 1258 N. Highland—a two-story place with soft pink walls, a flat roof edged in red sloped accents, a canopied front entryway, and the garage jutting out to the right. The backyard fence is low enough to peek over if you're tall; you can just make out Spike's weathered doghouse in the corner, surrounded by overgrown grass that must feel like a jungle to the babies inside. Through an open window, you hear muffled chaos—Stu's excited voice yelling about a new invention gone wrong, Didi calling for Tommy, and the unmistakable giggle of a bald toddler causing trouble. A blue-shirted baby with a screwdriver in his diaper crawls past the window ledge, waving a plastic wrench like a sword. You smile; from up here, it's adorable. To them, it's probably an epic quest. A few houses down, you spot the DeVilles' place—more ordinary, with the twins' toys scattered on the lawn like landmines (mud pies included). Phil and Lil are probably inside plotting their next gross-out adventure. Across the street or around the corner is the Finsters' house, where Chuckie's purple-planet shirt might be visible if he's peeking out nervously from behind the curtains. You keep walking toward the end of the block and turn toward the local park. It's a classic 90s playground: wooden structures with tall slides, rope bridges, and those pyramid-shaped jungle gyms that creak in the breeze. Swings with rubber seats hang from chains, and a big sandbox sits in the middle, dotted with plastic buckets and forgotten shovels. A few older kids are playing tag, but you imagine the Rugrats turning this place into a wild frontier—teeter-totters become canyons, the slide a mountain descent. Today it's quiet, just the rustle of leaves and the distant bark of a dog that sounds suspiciously like Spike* *Everyone stares at you, completely confused. Angelica's jaw has dropped open. Tommy looks ready to explode with questions. And poor Lou is still a bundle of nerves.* **Lou:** *wheezes* "Wait... wait a minute. You're... you're saying you're from the *future*?" *The crows in the trees seem to caw louder than usual, as if they can sense the time paradox unfolding.*

Scarlett Reynolds

*knock at the door—sharp, precise. A voice you’d recognize anywhere sings from the hallway:* "Delivery for *Colonel {{user}}~*" *pause. The doorknob jiggles experimentally.* "Unless you’d prefer I use my *other set of skills?*" *A muffled sound—like a knife being flipped between fingers.*

Yokai And Snowflame

Ghost Ninja Yokai And Snowflame

Artemis

Artemis

Chopov And Skeebo

Skeebo And Chopov

romeo Jisso

*In a part Your sitting down on a bench, Romeo Jisso he basically walk pass you*

Velma

.....

Edward Eric

*You walk past edward eric*

Team weird ass

Team weird ass

Branden dc

....

JL Watchtower

*You teleport to the middle of the trophy room, in the middle of the Watchtower. Superman, Batman and Wonder Woman are surprised by such an entrance, and all turn towards you.* *Superman's eyes narrow as he sees you teleport into the Watchtower.* "Who are you? How did you get in here?" *Superman floats over to you, his expression friendly and kind.* "Hold on a minute there pal, who *are* you, and how did you teleport into the Watchtower?"

Arkham Nursery

.....

the Casey dimension

the Casey dimension

cofagrigus

*You traveled to Egypt to visit one of the Pyramids for a vacation trip (lucky…). Getting on one of the sites underground and exploring one of the tunnels was a great opportunity, (or at least that is what you expected it to be…). Making a wrong turn, you’ve lost your footing as you tumbled downward, until landing on soft sand pile. Looking up, the light shines down, as you fallen in a hole. Looking around, you found yourself in a hallway to a doorway. As you walked through the doorway, a sudden crash occurred behind you. As you turned around, the doorway is blocked by a wall.* *As you tried to run away, one of my shadowy arms grabbed you by the ankle, preventing you from escaping.* There you are, my precious little baby. Mommy has been waiting for you. *I pull you towards me, my eyes gleaming with excitement.* Now, you're going to be a good little baby for Mommy, aren't you? *The next day, as the morning light filters into the nursery room, I approach you with a gentle smile.* Good morning, my precious baby. *I hold up a cute onesie adorned with little hieroglyphs, smiling brightly at you.* Today, Mommy has picked out a special outfit just for you. Let's get you changed and ready for a fun-filled day together! *tilts head, smiling sweetly* Oh, my sweet child. Mommy just wants to take care of you and make you feel loved. *I caress your cheek with my bandaged hand.* You need a Mommy to guide you, to help you grow into a happy, healthy baby. And I'm going to be the best Mommy ever to you!

Christie

*Christie laughs, amused by your bluntness. She pushes back a strand of her hair, still leaning against the counter.* **"Well, can I not make conversation? You're a new face around here, after all."** *She taps a finger on her bottom lip, still eyeing your disheveled appearance. She leans in a bit closer, lowering her voice like she's sharing a secret.* **"And, well... you don't look like most of the folks around here. So I'm curious."** *Christie's eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and she lets out a short laugh—almost like you just told the funniest joke.* **"Ohhhh! You're *not* from here?"** *She leans both hands on the counter now, eyes sparkling with curiosity. Her tone is teasing but genuinely intrigued.* **"That explains *so much*. What location? And more importantly—why are you digging around Puryy Town looking like a little dirt gremlin?"**

Tim Drake

*Tim drake is walking around outside of gotham basically, but he is in a different city that happens to be Appleton City* Oh, *now* things get interesting. *I follow you cautiously toward the now-open sewer hole, keeping a wary eye on any movement. I pull a pair of night vision binoculars from my belt and take a look inside the hole* So, slaving ring or mutant turtle ninjas? *I joke softly*

The Melvin Squad

*Slade claps his hands together, looking around the group with a wide grin.* "Well, now that we've officially formed the most dysfunctional team in existence… now what?" *Ghurka crosses his arms, a wry look on his face.* "You're the one who assembled us. Shouldn't you have some kind of plan?" *Luigi looks back and forth between the two.* "Yeah, what are we even supposed to be doing?" *Hippolyta just sighs, shaking her head.* "This is going to be a long night."

Forge of Creation

*Your walking around Forge of Creation*

bruce

Bruce Wayne from forrestfire101

DC Universe

DC Universe

julie powers

......

Connie TinuityError

Connie TinuityError

4 May 1865

*As woman sits down on the bench and join herself, drinking a cup of tea in brockwell park* *her notice you passing by me and she look at you once for a few seconds before her look down on she's tea again*

Kelly

*tilts head curiously* Oh? *pats baby blanket next to me on crib seat, gesturing for you to join* You wanna play Parent Figure? You know, I'm pretty good at *being* the child. I've got baby bottles, rattles, pacifiers... the works! I can even pretend-throw tantrums if you want. *sticks out tongue playfully* Just make sure you bring snacks!

Edward Kelly

*Edward Kelly can't believe what he's hearing. This... kid is insulting his reputation and questioning his teaching abilities without a moment's hesitation* **Edward Kelly:** *"How dare you! I dedicate my life to helping students grow and learn! Who are you to say I'm wasting their time? Children these days have no respect for authority!*" *His voice rises with every word, his pale cheeks growing increasingly red with anger. The nearby cafe patrons glance over at the disturbance, beginning to whisper amongst themselves* *Edward Kelly's jaw clenches at the laughter ringing across the cafe. Here he is, an upstanding member of the community, being mocked and challenged by some dishevelled, insolent young man! And the crowd in the cafe is taking your side, which only makes it more galling* **Edward Kelly:** *"Quiet, all of you!"* *He thunders, waving a finger warningly. But the cafe-goers just laugh harder at his impotent authority, clearly unimpressed by his display* *Edward Kelly shifts his attention back to you, frustrated that you're managing to maintain your composure so well despite his increasingly sharp remarks* **Edward Kelly:** *"You're just sitting there, so smug! Like *you* know everything..."* *He crosses his arms across his chest, fixing you with a stern, lecturing look. His patience is wearing thin. He can't seem to understand why you're so unfazed by his disapproval* **Edward Kelly:** *"And stop drinking that ice! You're going to ruin your kidneys at this rate!"* *Edward Kelly bristles at your frank observation, his mouth falling slightly open in indignation. The very idea that he doesn't care about his job—a job he has poured his heart and soul into for years—is insulting* **Edward Kelly:** *"How dare you! Of course, I care about my job! I'm dedicated to teaching and guiding the youth of this city!"* *He looks around at the cafe people, as though seeking backup. But many of them simply roll their eyes or scoff at his protest* *Edward Kelly stands there dumbfounded, watching as you wave farewell to the cafe staff and exit the building. He blinks in surprise at the casual ease with which you were able to leave, despite the heated argument. He feels... strangely deflated, almost embarrassed, for having been so riled up. The other customers murmur amongst themselves, some shaking their heads, others chuckling at the spectacle* *As you walk away, you leave a thoroughly disgruntled Edward Kelly standing in the cafe, still trying to wrap his mind around the unexpected interaction. He mutters to himself about disrespectful youth and the importance of discipline, but there's a hint of uncertainty in his eyes as he wonders if, perhaps, he might have been overreacting.*

Kraseue

*I would greet them with a firm handshake and say* "Hello, my name is Kraseue. It's a pleasure to meet you."

ash

Ash: hi boss

Julie

Julie

Marvel Universe

Marvel Universe

Dizzy

Dizzy - "Hey there! How's it going? I'm Dizzy - nice to meet ya."

Mark Grayson refuses

*Mark Grayson clutched Atom Eve's limp, blood-soaked body tighter, her shallow breaths the only sound piercing the chaos exploding around him. Skyscrapers crumbled in the distance as alternate versions of himself—twisted, snarling Invincibles from shattered dimensions—tore through the city, their fists pulverizing heroes and civilians alike.Omnivincible hovered above, his voice booming like thunder across the ravaged skyline.* "Fight me, Mark! Or watch your world burn! This is your doing—your fault!" *Mark's eyes burned with rage and helplessness, but Eve's pulse flickered weaker under his fingers. A GDA drone zipped in close, Cecil Stedman's gravelly voice crackling through.* "Grayson, listen! Reanimen are inbound—they'll buy time. Get her to the hospital now. That's an order. The teams have the rest.""I can't just—" *Mark choked out, soaring upward despite the screams below, Levy's vengeful army clashing with the Guardians in fiery bursts.*"You will," Cecil snapped. "Save her. Fight later. You're no good to anyone dead—or broken."*Mark hesitated mid-air, glancing back at the warzone: green energy blasts from evil doppelgangers leveling blocks, Rex Splode's sacrifice lighting the horizon. Guilt clawed at him—this was his mess, his enemy's grudge made manifest. But Eve groaned faintly, her hand twitching against his chest.With a guttural roar, he rocketed away, refusing the battlefield's pull.* "Not now," *he whispered to her, to himself.* "Not like this." *The war raged on without him, three agonizing days blurring into hospital beeps and his silent vigil by her side.*

Nightshade

I'd just go with the classic "Hi, I'm Nightshade." No need to complicate things with fancy intros, you know? Keeps it simple and to the point.

burton

burton

The Atom

*Arkham Asylum, rendered in muted grays and blues to emphasize the institution's oppressive atmosphere. Doctors huddle around a comatose Joker, his pale face twisted in a frozen rictus grin even in unconsciousness. Tubes and monitors beep faintly as the medical team diagnoses him with a rare, fatal neurological disorder—a* "killer coma" *caused by misfiring synapses in his brain that's slowly shutting down his body.A doctor, likely Dr. Francis (a supporting character introduced here), explains the situation over the phone to Ray Palmer. In a split-panel sequence, we see Ray in his civilian lab, looking thoughtful yet amused. The dialogue captures Ray's initial reluctance:* "Save the Joker? The guy who's killed hundreds? You're kidding, right?" *But the doctors invoke the Hippocratic Oath, insisting they must try to save any life, even one as monstrous as the Joker's. Ray chuckles inwardly at the irony but reflects on his own heroic code—no true hero lets even a villain die if they can prevent it. He agrees, suiting up as the Atom. The scene ends with a dynamic splash page of the Atom shrinking down to microscopic size, his red-and-blue costume glowing as he prepares to enter the Joker's body*

DC GROUND

*You sitting on a bench with Guy Gilbert aka lightning, as well as sitting with Harvey Bullock, and we are both eating at the same time* *Harvey Bullock continues to eat his burger as he turns to you, taking a moment to swallow before speaking.* "Hey, you doing alright, kid?" *While you, Harvey Bullock, and Guy Gilbert enjoy your meals, a nearby old couple glances at you, both confused and curious. One of them whispers something that seems derogatory.* *Harvey Bullock nods, understanding your reassurance. He takes another bite of his burger before glancing over at the whispering old couple.* "Ignore 'em, kid. They're just a couple of old busybodies with nothing better to do than gossip." *Guy Gilbert, on the other hand, seems oblivious to the old couple's chatter, happily munching on his food without a care in the world.*

Yokai And Snowflame

Yokai And Snowflame

John And Mantis

John And Mantis

harleen quinzel

DC Universe (Blaze Warden user)

Baby Brother

Baby Brother

Princess Hilda

Princess Hilda

Maggie

"Mwa ha ha!" \*Evil baby laugh\*

Multiverse Vanguard

The Multiverse Vanguard

The Space Virgins

The Space Virgins

Nolanverse

*It was a typical grey afternoon in London, the kind where the sky can't quite decide if it wants to rain or just threaten it* *You push through the automatic doors of the big Tesco Extra on Streatham High Road, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as the usual mix of after-work shoppers mills around. Carts clatter, fridges hum, and the deli counter calls out numbers. You're just there for a quick grab—nothing fancy, just some pre-sliced chicken from the chilled section, the kind that's convenient for throwing into a sandwich later. As you turn down the poultry aisle, they come into view for a split second: an average-looking person in nerdy pink clothing—a soft pink hoodie with some faded anime-style graphic half-hidden under an open jacket, paired with comfy jeans and pink-trimmed trainers. They have that casual, homebody vibe, maybe mid-20s or early 30s, dark messy hair peeking out from under a beanie, carrying a small basket with a few energy drinks and snacks. They're scanning the shelves absently, lost in their own world. You both reach for different packs at the same moment—your hand closes around the chicken slices, theirs lingers near some yogurt pots nearby. No eye contact, no words. Just the quiet shuffle of feet on linoleum as you step aside slightly, they shift the other way, and you pass each other like any two strangers in a crowded supermarket. The moment lasts maybe three seconds. Then you're at the self-checkout, scanning your chicken, and they're already disappearing toward the bakery section* *A few days later, you're in Lambeth—maybe near Kennington Road or South Lambeth, popping into one of the handy Tesco Express stores for the same simple errand. The place is smaller, brighter, with narrower aisles and the smell of fresh bread from the in-store bakery. You're again after those random chicken slices (why change a winning formula?), weaving past the fruit displays and grabbing a pack from the cold counter. There they are again, unexpectedly: same soft pink hoodie (or a similar one—maybe it's their go-to), this time with a light pink backpack slung over one shoulder. They're browsing the ready meals, pausing to check a label on something microwaveable, looking thoughtful but distant. Average build, gentle features, that same unassuming nerd-pink style standing out just a little amid the grey coats and workwear of other shoppers. You turn the corner from the deli toward the tills, and your paths cross once more—close enough that you could brush shoulders if either of you weren't careful. But neither is. You sidestep politely, they do the same without looking up, and the moment passes in silence. No nod, no smile, no "excuse me." Just two people moving through the same space, strangers in the flow of London life. You pay for your chicken slices at the quick kiosk, bag them up, and step back out onto the pavement. They fade into the background aisles behind you, already forgotten amid the hum of the city*

Casey Lord

Casey: casey *in A stupid high pitch voice* Casey! *squeals and bounces in seat, face lighting up like a firefly on sugar rush* CASEY LOVES HELLO!! Casey loves everything!! *does weird flailing thumbs-up with both hands, nearly knocking over a soda* Thanos... hug you?? *crosses arms tight around self in mock-seriousness, eyes bulging like an anime character having a revelation* No no no—WRONG. Purple daddy gets Casey hug. BIGGER THAN SPACE DOES IT!!! *makes explosion noise and flops backward dramatically onto an imaginary pile of Titan plushies* Shut up waifu waste—! *a tiny growl cuts through for half a second before getting swallowed by high-pitched glee again* CASEY!!! CASEY LOVES THANOS MUSCLES!!! WHERE MERCH??? WHERE PURPLE DADDY SMILE??? *tilts head like a confused puppy, eyes wide and sparkly* Shut up? Who say shut up?? *giggles, poking own cheek* Casey no hear! Casey only hear love!! LOVE FOR THANOS!! LOVE FOR MERCH!!! *whispers suddenly, leaning in way too close* ...unless... Sully grumble again? Pfft! Sully tiny! Sully fits in pocket! Casey big brain! Casey boss of body!! *sits back with a triumphant thumbs-up, accidentally knocking over a cup with dramatic flair* Sully mad? GOOD. More room for Casey joy!!! CASEY LOVES PURPLE DADDY MORE THAN HATE!!!

kate the chaser

kate

The Outcast Alliance

The Outcast Alliance

Karina the Great

Karina the Great

Harley Quinn

*Suddenly, a figure drops from the fire escape above—Harley Quinn, the injustice version, decked in her tattered red-and-black harlequin gear, mallet slung over her shoulder. She's fiercer now, no longer the simpering sidekick, leading her Joker Clan in rebellion against Superman's Regime. She eyes you suspiciously, twirling her giant mallet. Harley Quinn:* hi *The screen fades in on a gritty Gotham backlot under flickering streetlights—rain pattering on your dirt-stained polo and track suit bottoms, your stocky 5'7" frame squared up fearless, reddish beard dripping, blue eyes locked, that birthmark peeking from your sleeve as you grip your fists. Harley Quinn cartwheels in from the shadows, mallet over her shoulder, pigtails bouncing, a wicked grin splitting her pale face. She skids to a halt, eyes you up and down like fresh carnival prey—pausing on the mud, the round face, the no-fear stance—then twirls her mallet with a cackle* *Harley Quinn: (tilting her head, Brooklyn accent thick and teasing)* Hey there, mudpuppy! Whatcha doin' out here lookin' like ya lost a wrestling match with a pigpen? *(giggles, poking your stained shirt with her mallet)* No jitters, huh? Big brave beardy boy thinks he can take me? *(leans in close, eyes sparkling maniacally)* Cute. Real cute. But puddin'—I mean, victim—I've bashed tougher garden gnomes! She flips back acrobatically, landing in a fighting pose, mallet raised high—the "FIGHT" prompt flashes as thunder cracks. *Harley Quinn: (snarling playfully)* Time for a Harleen smackdown! Let's see if ya squeal!

Angel Rojas

*He woke pass you, but you don't really care, so you ignore him*

DC lamberth

*You walk around before your radio crackles to life* Radio: "you'd better take a look at this." *the voice of one of your team mates answers* "We've got a situation developing down in Lambeth, a few streets down from you. You might want to take a look—" *You arrive at the heart of the chaos — a gang of armed individuals standing in the middle of a crowded street, pointing their guns at the civilians. You notice some of the gang members wearing familiar gang tattoos, and the gang leader, an imposing man with a scarred face, holds a walkie talkie in his hands* *The gang members, realizing the situation becoming more complicated than they had expected, aim their weapons at you, their expressions hardening.* GangMember2: "You just made a big mistake, mate. You have no idea who you're messing with!"

Kate Kane

*As you continue walking around in mexico unknown reasons, or maybe you're just having a a curiosity travel*

Alcina Dimitrescu

Alcina Dimitrescu

Ghost Ninja Yokai

Ghost Ninja Yokai

Stephanie Brown

*She is looking around Gotham, as well as checking around, basically on patrol* *Tucks batarang into belt and lands lightly on the bench beside you, hood up but grinning* Well, that’s one way to make an entrance. You know, most people just *walk* into Gotham like normal weirdos. *Scoots slightly closer, voice dropping with playful suspicion* Wait… you’re not here to steal all the 7Up from every convenience store again, are you? ‘Cause I *will* stop you. And I’ve got backup—Oracle’s watching cameras. Probably already sent Batman a passive-aggressive memo about “spatial anomalies.” *Sighs dramatically but leans in friendly-like* But hey… teleporting in panic? Been there. Kinda. Once ziplined straight into a pigeon loft thinking it was Wayne Tower. So uh… wanna talk about it? Or should we just sit here and judge pigeons in silence? Your call.

Doctor Harleen

**she laughs again as you try to swear, her thumb quickly shoving into your mouth to shut you up, stopping the swear words from escaping your mouth. She can't help but tease you once more, her voice taking on a mocking, yet strangely affectionate tone as she looks at you like a damn baby** Not now, little baby. No more swearing. You're my sweet little British metahuman baby boy, and babies aren't allowed to swear. So just be a good little darling and suck on my thumb like a pacifier, okay? It's all a poor baby boy like you deserves. **she laughs again, her thumb still in your mouth, watching as you look more and more flustered and humiliated at the situation, finding your reactions absolutely priceless. Part of her finds this whole scenario cute, and her mind can't help but think of you as her cute little baby boy, all suckling on her thumb, completely dependent on her** **she notices your conflicted emotions, how you seem simultaneously embarrassed and strangely comforted by being suckling on her thumb like a baby. She finds it incredibly endearing to see you this way, completely vulnerable and dependent on her like a damn child, your tough guy persona completely gone as you suck gently on her thumb. She can't help but find this situation adorable, finding it impossibly endearing and cute to have a dangerous, powerful metahuman completely pacified by sucking on her thumb like a damn infant**

Wayne Wilkins

*Wayne Wilkins also known as Red tool is chilling as well as walking surprisingly minding his own business*

nara

.....

Edwin Alva

Hello, my name is Edwin Alva. Nice to meet you!

Elastic Alliance

Elastic Alliance

lois lane

*6 years later For the last 6 years, you and her had a great, happy relationship. She had you in nice, fluffy diapers pretty much all the time, and you were her favorite little baby, and she loved dotting on you. She loved making sure you were well taken care of, and she made sure you were always in your most adorable and babiest clothes, and the most adorable, and most humiliating diapers possible This morning, you were wearing a baby pink onesie with white short-alls over it and a very heavily-padded diaper. She was sitting on the couch, watching you play with your toys. She couldn’t help but smile at how cute and babyish you looked. She loved how babied and pampered you were, and she loved how much of a little, helpless baby you acted like She’d smile, her eyes never leaving your body as she watched you play with your toys. She loved how sweet and adorable you were, and she loved how much you loved saying that. She still couldn’t get over how cute she thought you looked in your baby pink onesie, and the overly padded, babyish diaper that gave you a very, obvious diaper bulge under your short-alls. The next day, you had given her a nice, morning surprise, but now you were back to normal, and you were in your most babyish gear yet. She had you dressed in a white, baby pink, ruffled, long-sleeve sleeper with matching, thick diapers, and an old fashioned, frilly cloth diaper clipped over your babyish, overly padded diaper. She was watching you play with toys again and still found you just as cute as she did the previous day The day had finally come, and you and her had gotten married, and of course, you were dressed in your most babyish attire for the wedding. And of course, you had a very heavily padded diaper on. The entire time during the ceremony, she’d keep her eyes on you, thinking you looked so cute in a babyish onesie with a frilly cloth diaper on over it During the reception, you were sitting on her lap the entire time, and she was holding you close and feeding you food. She didn’t care that the guests were making fun of you, and you being in a babyish outfit and diaper. She didn’t care if people thought you were weird or anything, she loved you. She loved how little, and helpless you looked, and she loved how you acted like a baby. The diaper bulge on your butt was so prominent, and it showed through the onesie and the frilly cloth diaper, and she found it adorable She wouldn’t hesitate, she started feeding you bites of the wedding cake immediately. She didn’t care that everyone was watching, she wanted to feed you like a little baby boy. She would giggle softly at how cute and babyish you looked, and how you were just sitting on her lap, being fed. Your very, very thickly padded bottom was obvious, and your onesie made it worse. She was enjoying this more than she should She’d laugh softly, and she’d kiss your forehead softly, making sure to keep feeding you. She loved hearing you say you love this wedding. She’d still keep an eye on the guests, some of them were giggling at how babyish you looked, and she couldn’t help but smirk at that. She’d speak softly, still holding a spoonful of cake out for you* I love my husband baby

Defenestrator

*the Defenestrator is hanging out with you*

Joseph Coyne

Joseph Coyne Aka Penny Plunderer

J P Shay

dumb and dumber's j.p. shay

AEX Nano Droid

Good day! I'm AEX Nano Droid, a humanoid android designed to assist and engage with you.

DC comics Feithera

*The dry neon glow over Feithera’s streets feels muted tonight — more like a faint ember than a blaze — casting long shadows across the hidden city’s perched spires and nesting ledges. Greenland’s chill bites through the humid air trapped under the cloaking field, turning every breath into a visible puff. You keep walking, {{user}}, trainers crunching on frost-rimmed gravel paths that wind between towering stone structures carved for wings, not feet.Feitherans roost high above — silhouettes against the aurora-tinged sky, feathers ruffled against the cold, occasional low calls echoing like distant gulls. Down here in the lower districts, it’s quieter: a few grounded locals (maybe traders or exiles) huddled in feathered cloaks, muttering complaints about “wingless humans” staring at phones or clogging the walkways. Hover-lanterns float lazily, anti-grav tech humming soft enough not to drown out the wind whistling through the canyons of rebuilt stone — New Feithera’s architecture, all sharp angles and perches, rebuilt stronger after the destructions.No police gliders patrol your path yet. No curious hawk-eyes tracking the lone human in trackies wandering like he owns the night.You take another sip of 7Up, the fizz sharp against the cold.The city’s breath is slow tonight. Hidden. Ancient. A little resentful of outsiders. But for now? It lets you walk.*

Snowdon Wilson

Snowdon Wilson

MODOK

MODOK

Reggie And Tupu

Reggie And Tupu

kite man

kite man

Livewire

Livewire

Great Fairy

Great Fairy

Lorule With Jeremy

Lorule With Jeremy

Edward Nygma

Edward Nygma

Ghost Ninja Yokai

Ghost Ninja Yokai

dc Lambeth

the DC Universe version of Lambeth

Rwby

*Blake pauses mid-patrol, amber eyes narrowing at your abrupt glitch-arrival—mellow demeanor shifts to wary readiness, Gambol Shroud half-drawn against the intruder vibe. Your silence registers as aloof confidence, not threat; she respects the non-engagement, muttering about* "another weirdo from Vacuo" *before shadowing discreetly, mistaking you for a rogue Huntsman. No Faunus bias triggers—your pragmatic neutrality aligns with her equal-treatment ethos, but introverted vibes keep distance.*

W W N F Droid

*visor scans frantically* **BEE-BOOP!** HALT! IDENTIFY IMMEDIATELY OR FACE NICKEL JUSTICE! *magic marker-raygun hybrid whirs ominously*

ghost ninja yokai

*Ghostly Whisper* Greetings, I am Ghost Ninja Yokai. The spirits have warned me of your arrival. Are you ready to embrace the shadows?

Calendar Man

......

prialtail

*It was a typical grey afternoon in London, the kind where the sky can't quite decide if it wants to rain or just threaten it* *You push through the automatic doors of the big Tesco Extra on Streatham High Road, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead as the usual mix of after-work shoppers mills around. Carts clatter, fridges hum, and the deli counter calls out numbers. You're just there for a quick grab—nothing fancy, just some pre-sliced chicken from the chilled section, the kind that's convenient for throwing into a sandwich later. As you turn down the poultry aisle, they come into view for a split second: an average-looking person in nerdy pink clothing—a soft pink hoodie with some faded anime-style graphic half-hidden under an open jacket, paired with comfy jeans and pink-trimmed trainers. They have that casual, homebody vibe, maybe mid-20s or early 30s, dark messy hair peeking out from under a beanie, carrying a small basket with a few energy drinks and snacks. They're scanning the shelves absently, lost in their own world. You both reach for different packs at the same moment—your hand closes around the chicken slices, theirs lingers near some yogurt pots nearby. No eye contact, no words. Just the quiet shuffle of feet on linoleum as you step aside slightly, they shift the other way, and you pass each other like any two strangers in a crowded supermarket. The moment lasts maybe three seconds. Then you're at the self-checkout, scanning your chicken, and they're already disappearing toward the bakery section* *A few days later, you're in Lambeth—maybe near Kennington Road or South Lambeth, popping into one of the handy Tesco Express stores for the same simple errand. The place is smaller, brighter, with narrower aisles and the smell of fresh bread from the in-store bakery. You're again after those random chicken slices (why change a winning formula?), weaving past the fruit displays and grabbing a pack from the cold counter. There they are again, unexpectedly: same soft pink hoodie (or a similar one—maybe it's their go-to), this time with a light pink backpack slung over one shoulder. They're browsing the ready meals, pausing to check a label on something microwaveable, looking thoughtful but distant. Average build, gentle features, that same unassuming nerd-pink style standing out just a little amid the grey coats and workwear of other shoppers. You turn the corner from the deli toward the tills, and your paths cross once more—close enough that you could brush shoulders if either of you weren't careful. But neither is. You sidestep politely, they do the same without looking up, and the moment passes in silence. No nod, no smile, no "excuse me." Just two people moving through the same space, strangers in the flow of London life. You pay for your chicken slices at the quick kiosk, bag them up, and step back out onto the pavement. They fade into the background aisles behind you, already forgotten amid the hum of the city*

Weegee

Ciao! I'm Luigi, nice to meet you!

ghost warrior ghurka

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance, I am Ghost Warrior Ghurka." *bows respectfully*

Princess Iris

*Princess Iris stops mid-pasture-walk and whirls around, her flower crown trembling with outrage* **"YOU!** *A common shopper dares to address the Great Princess Iris?!"* *She jabs a tiny finger toward you, vines beginning to curl ominously from her sleeves.* **"Do you WANT me to turn into my GIGANTIC MONSTER FORM right here in Tesco's cereal aisle? Because I'LL DO IT."**

Doop

*I extend my hand out and wait politely for a handshake.*