#//wouldn't have pegged him as electric type but

[strawberry-barista]

Pokemon Personality Quiz

[miasmaghoul]

Okay @herbal-quintessence.

A quick little something to satisfy your curiosity.

(Follow up to this fic)

"Daddy?" Aeon murmurs, tired but still incredulous. "Really?"

Aether chuckles in his ear, accompanied by the sound of rushing water. The other ghoul must be cleaning himself up.

"Really," he rumbles, fading into a yawn Aether doesn't even try to stifle.

It hasn't been too long since Dew conked out, still a sweaty, sticky mess after taking the shade of Aether's knot. Aeon hadn't expected that part; Dew's always been active participant in aftercare, needy for contact, but tonight the little ghoul had been out like a light before Aeon had even pulled out.

Aether had laughed gently at Aeon's immediate panic, but was quick to reassure him. To tell Aeon that Dew should have warned him about how his body handles the aftermath of quintessence. He'll be out for about an hour, according to Aether, and when he wakes up he'll need a bunch of water and a kiss between the horns before anything else.

Aether had also said that nothing short of armageddon itself could rouse Dew in this state, but Aeon took him off speakerphone just in case. Speaking in hushed tones himself. Wouldn't want to risk rousing the little guy, who is currently drooling onto the duvet while Aeon and Aether have a little post-nut chat.

"Didn't peg him for the type," Aeon says, reaching over to run his fingers through Dew's hair. Working out tangled ends. "Figured he'd be more of a sir guy."

Dew sniffs, smacks his lips. Snores. Aeon smiles, crosses his legs. Aether makes an amused sound then, and Aeon tips his head as though the other ghoul can see him.

"Who said it was for him?"

It takes a moment for Aeon to process the words, the gears in his head chugging along at half speed after all his hard work. His brain feels like it's been poached, fuzzy with electric heat. When he figures out what Aether means, and he can say is,

"Oh."

"Oh," Aether teases, breathy and feminine.

Aeon has to chuckle - he's sure that's probably what he just sounded like. He couldn't help it, really. Aether wanting to be called daddy? Surely that discovery is enough to warrant an embarrassing noise or two.

"And for the record," he continues, accompanied by a shuffling sound. A shirt being changed, maybe. "He isn't a sir guy either."

Well that's interesting.

"Oh yeah?" Aeon takes his hand back from Dew's hair to rest it over his suddenly tingly cock. No way he's getting anything else out of it tonight, but the pressure feels nice regardless. "What kinda guy is he, then?"

"That's for you to figure out, pet," Aether tells him, a playful tilt to the words. "I'm not one to spoil things."

Aeon snorts, but doesn't press. There's no fun in being told these things anyway. Better to learn by doing.

"Fiiiiiine," he sighs anyway, sounding woefully put out. "Ruin my fun."

"Any time," Aether replies, and he next laugh is one they share.

Aeon yawns then, tired to his bones. He slides down the bed, does a half roll so he lands on his side, scooches himself across the mattress until he's at Dew's side. Close enough to reach out and rest a hand on his back, tacky with their combined drying sweat.

"Think I'm gonna doze while I can," he mumbles, nosing at Dew's temple. "Will he wake me up if he has to?"

"You can count on it," Aether assures him. There's a pause then, a break in mood, and then Aether huffs. "Give him an extra kiss from me, would you?"

Aeon may still be new here, but he knows pining when he hears it.

"'Course," he says, pressing his lips to the shell of Dew's ear. "Anything you want me to tell him while I'm at it?"

Aether chuffs.

"You don't have to worry about that part. He knows everything I want to say."

Aeon's sure that's true.

"Consider it done," he slurs, body heavy and eyes heavier. "Nap time now."

Aether laughs, and Aeon feels fuzzy all over.

"Sleep well," he coos, kind. "And thank you. For tonight."

"Any time," he yawns, and despite that pervasive heaviness he manages to smirk when he adds, "daddy."

A clatter answers him, Aether swears in the distance, and Aeon hopes his phone didn't hit the floor screen-first.

[m00nc4kes]

Molotov. (Sneak Peek)

Hobie Brown x Black!Punk!Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Warnings: Stealing, racism (you get followed in a store), author is not british

A/N: Pssssttt… i have a little excerpt from a fic i’ve been working on and planning out with my bestie 🫣 I’ve proofread the best i could but there could still be some mistakes! I hope you enjoy <3 This is Hobie and the reader’s meet cute!!

—————————————————————————

You hated everything about this store. Maybe you would’ve liked it if the previous owners weren’t forced to hand the place over to the bank because of bankruptcy. The old store had a sense of home and community, opening its arms for every and any type of person who entered its doors. But this— this was ridiculous.

Practically every surface was reflective while the expensive ass price tags taunted your empty pockets. Everything about this place was uninviting. Just like the greeter who refused to acknowledge your presence.

You walked past the greeter and seethed, “Hello to you too.”

His face soured and it was exactly the reason why you wouldn’t feel bad about taking what you needed.

There weren't many people who looked like you here, despite this place being smackdab in the middle of your area. Large ads with white-filled propaganda filled your vision as you walked past different aisles. Each one peered at you with uncaring eyes as they preached a message for a world that didn't involve you in it. The memo that 'you don't belong here' threatened to overwhelm your mind. The stares from the white employees and the white patrons drilled holes into the back of your head.

You were always told to stand strong even when you had to stand alone, but no one warned you of how hard it would be. You could feel your face burn and your hands grow damp under the fabric of your gloves.

The next thing you knew, your lead-filled legs turned you into a random aisle. You released a heavy breath and tried to will your heart to slow down. Gracefully raising your gaze from the floor, you were met with one other person and surrounded by different candies. Though, you were completely taken aback at the sight of the person in the aisle.

He was tall— like, really tall and his wicks only added to his height. They were thick and long, well taken care of too. It made you wonder how long he'd had them— your eyes trailed down to the sticker covered guitar that hung from a thick strap from across his shoulder. It seemed well loved, although it appeared it could use some new strings and a few pegs to get it into peak shape— you were sure you had a few pegs at home— No. No. No, you were not going to go down that hole—

The guy suddenly turned his head to look over his shoulder at you and you were met with an electric pair of amber eyes. The appraisal he gave you made you stand up straight as the two of you came to the same realization. He gave you an acknowledging nod and you gave him one in return. It was enough to set you back on your tracks and make your steps lighter as you eagerly searched for you and Riri's favorite candies.

You weren't alone. You weren't the only black punk going through this oppressive world.

You plucked a bag of candy you hadn't heard of before while mentally racking your list of things to grab. Behind you, there were a pair of footsteps that passed you until they stopped beside you. You craned your neck to look up at the guy from before, opening your mouth to ask him what he needed before he interrupted you by jutting out his chin in the direction of the end of the aisle. You moved your gaze to follow where he was gesturing and immediately understood.

An older white employee was restocking a shelf and not-so-inconspicuously watching you two from the corner of her eye. She had turned to fixing the same item on the shelf to keep an eye on you.

Then, you were introduced to a strong British accent as the guy beside you leaned in close to your ear. "Wouldn't recommend takin' anythin' just yet." His voice was low as it rumbled from his chest.

You looked back at him and gave him another once over. He had strong features accentuated by his piercings and adorned studded accessories on his neck, arm, and wrist. But his vest was a sight to behold— "Me? Stealin'? I would never." You feigned innocence. He let out an amused chuckle, letting you know he didn't believe a word you said. You watched as his eyes flicked down to your hands that were still clutching the candy bag. His brows raised in interest.

"Those say 'fuck off', mate?"

It took you a few seconds to realize he was talking about your gloves. You subconsciously ran a hand over the stitching, before a small grin spread across your lips. "Damn right they do. Gotta make sure these pigs know exactly what I mean." You took a split second to do a sweep over his lanky form; from the top of his wicks to the bottom of his blue-laced boots. You tilted your head. “Seems like you showed them pigs who’s boss,” you said, motioning towards his boots.

“Damn right.” He mocked your previous phrasing with a smug grin before looking over your shoulder to the lady who was observing you. “I have a proposition for ya, wanna hear it?”

You shrugged. “Depends on what it is.” You couldn’t exactly do what you had intended on doing, but that didn’t mean you would be down to do anything, especially if the proposition came from a complete stranger.

A mischievous glint entered the man’s eyes and his voice took a conspiratory turn. “Between you ‘n me, who do you think Peepin’ Tammy is more likely to follow?” His eyes lingered over the spot where your eyes were and you could feel the intensity of it even while hiding behind your hair.

You sighed. “Most likely, you.” At the end of the day, you both were black but he was extremely tall and you had forgone your spiked accessories, something he definitely didn’t do. If it came down to you or him, you weren’t even an option.

He gave you a pleased grin and pointed a finger at you. “Exactly. So I’ll get her off your ass while you handle your business, ya get me?” he offered. “All I ask is you get me this, yeah?” He held up a bag of off-brand candy.

Your agreement fell from your lips easily as you grabbed the bag from his hands. “Deal.” A thrilled laugh left you as you imagined taking advantage of the woman following you two. “Get her ass,” you whispered encouragement as you danced around him to go the opposite direction.

His two finger salute to you was the last thing you saw before kleptomania flooded your veins.

Now, you knew how this looked. You were doing exactly what the woman had expected of you— stealing what you could fit into your bag. Food that you would never be able to afford on this side of town and tv dinners were snatched from shelves and freezers. It didn’t bring joy to you (a solid half-truth) to do things that were expected of people who looked like you, but you adapted and overcame.

You did things that needed to be done, even if it came at the expense of your reputation.

Ha, like you gave a shit.

With a full bag and a half-light heart, you navigated the store to find your partner in crime. It was easy enough, you ended up locating him in an aisle filled with propaganda-filled magazines. He had one in his hands that had Spider-Punk on the cover and he read it with obvious distaste.

Near him, Peepin’ Tammy was fixing a stack of books that didn’t need fixing.

As if sensing you, he lifted his gaze and gave you a questioning thumbs up. You returned the gesture with a confirming nod and a thumbs up. You looked at the magazine in his hands.

“You don’t like him or somethin’?” you asked. He gave you a noncommittal hum before tossing the magazine back into the display, much to Tammy’s chagrin.

“Jus’ don’t like what they’re sayin’ about him is all.” He blew air out of his mouth. “They couldn’t have picked a different label, hm? Damn PM calls him a ‘spider punk’ once and that’s his entire character? Come out of it.”

His passion for the name surprised you. You picked up the magazine and observed the blurry photo of Spider-Punk on the cover. “Yeah, I mean, he’s a spider dude and he’s punk. It fits. And he’s also fucking Ozzy over, y’know, in a ‘hah this spider punk is kicking your ass and inspiring others to fight back’ way. Taking the name and slapping the old man with it.”

Your partner-in-crime looked you over before giving you a laugh. “That’s one way to put it.”

You grinned at him, tossing the magazine over your shoulder. “Okay, I’m ready to go.”

The mischievous glint from before returned to his eyes. “Then what’re we waitin’ for?”

With a sudden resolve, the two of you turned to face Tammy, who startled at the sight of your guy’s undivided attention. You locked eyes with your partner then looked back at Tammy.

Then, the two of you spun on your heels and ran out of the store.

[the-sprog]

My friends and I are still on our pokémon nuzlocke bullshit so I'm still poke obsessed.

But separately I'm also on my how to train your dragon bullshit and I realized how similar the relationship progression of Ash and Pikachu and of Hiccup and Toothless is.

They should meet.

Ash getting slung on Berk would have pretty much the same effect as Hiccup ending up in Unova. Going from no electricity to that would probably give the kid an aneurysm before he starts taking pokedexes apart to learn how to build them. I don't think Toothless would scare people as much as they'd probably assume he was a legendary from another region. He'd be Dragon type, probably pure.

Toothless and Pikachu wouldn't be able to communicate, which would probably weird Toothless out since usually he's not this cut out from the rest of the world. I mean, Hiccup and Ash also probably speak different languages here, but it's easier for humans to learn a new language than it is for animals from different universes to do so.

For these kinds of universe shananigans I can always only think of a few main culprits, Arceus being the main one. I mean It does a lot of things for Its self without worrying about who It's using. Palkia and Dialga might not be the teleporting around type, but Giratina might meddle. And the Lake Guardians do some kind of transportation shananigans sometimes but they're not as mischievous iirc.

Thinking about Hiccup somehow meeting Lugia and being all "it's ok it's ok" *hand think* while Lugia looks at Ash and goes "is this kid fr?" And Hiccup has a heart attack because he's never heard a Dragon talk. And pokemon also usually don't so this was a surprise all around.

Them exchanging stories of how they met their life long partner.

"I uuh- I shot him down. He can't fly without the artificial tail fin I made. But hey! He got me back, didn't he? Couldn't save all of me, so-" *points* "peg leg."

*Warble*

"Woah. And you made it? Both of them?"

"Yeah. Took me a while to perfect the design but now Toothless can fly with my help. I... Tried making him one he didn't need me for, but he rejected it."

*nods* "I get it."

"We didn't get along for a while. I was scared and he was resentful. But I was also stubborn and he was curious. "

*chuckle* "Me and Pikachu didn't either."

"Yeah?"

*nods* "He didn't want a trainer, and I didn't want him as my Pokémon. But, like you, I was stubborn. And even though we didn't get along, I never would've let him get hurt."

"Naturally."

"So when a murder of Sparrow attacked us, I protected him. And then he did the same. And I think we started bonding more because of the trust and respect that came from that incident."

"Pikapi! Pi pika pika-chuu."

*nods* "True. It wasn't smooth sailing. But with time, we really came from an understanding."

"And now you're inseparable?" *Smile*

*smile back* "yeah."

I was also thinking about what pokémon Toothless would be if this was a universe fusion and not a universes meeting kinda situation and I came to the conclusion that it should be Zekrom.

C'mon. Night Furies are said to be the "unholy offspring of lightning and death itself". I can totally see some culture getting that idea if they know the original story and lore.

I don't know what the Red death would be in this scenario, but this would be like a Hisui situation with people hating or being scared of Pokemon in general. I have less ideas for universe fusions type crossover.

[bi-bard]

Never - Winchester Brothers Imagine (Supernatural)

Title: Never

Pairing: Winchester Brothers X Platonic!Reader

Requested: by @shinestuart

Word Count: 1,084 words

Warning(s): torture, injury, cussing

Summary: (Season 11) It was stupid of the boys to believe that Amara was unaware of the one thing that could've killed her. Now, they had to face the consequences of dragging (Y/n) into the hunting world.

Author's Note: I kinda worked with my imagine "Milkshakes" more than anything else. I think it was where I most explicitly noted the reader as a weapon.

Hey! I did a rewrite of the ending of Supernatural. It took a really long time to complete, so it would mean a lot to me if you check it out. Here’s a link! (it’s on my personal account)

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I gasped as I woke up.

I looked around. It was a warehouse or an old factory. It was dark and empty. The windows were too high for me to see out of. I didn't see any light coming through them. It was nighttime.

There were candles surrounding the whole building. I wasn't pegging Amara for the "pay the electrical bill" type. She was definitely more of the, "make sure to set the mood" type.

I was tied to a metal cross. My arms spread out, wrists tied to either end. My legs tied together and to the pole behind me. There was another rope around my waist to hold me still.

Amara stood before me. Grace and power. The two elements that could perfectly instill fear. I pulled on the restraints on my arms.

"Hello," she greeted. "I believe you know my brother."

"Not personally," I bit back. I had only known them for a matter of months, but Sam and Dean had already impacted how I acted.

She chuckled.

I tugged on my restraints again.

"I know about you," she explained. "God's perfect weapon. Probably that only thing that could defeat me."

"You should be scared of me then."

"Oh, no," Amara held and hand out and I felt my throat closing. "I don't need to. First of all, the- admittedly complex- sigil carved into that pole will stop your powers. Second of all... I have an offer. You have two choices, you can die or... you work with me."

She stopped choking me. I coughed as I tried to catch my breath.

I looked her in the eye, "Go to hell."

Suddenly, she was right in front of me, grabbing my jaw so I couldn't move my head.

"What was that," she sneered.

"I said, 'go to hell,'" I replied. She let go of my chin. "I will not help you destroy the world."

"Why because it's so great?"

"Because the people I love are here."

"The people the Winchesters dragged you away from?"

I fell silent, clenching my jaw.

Suddenly, I was choking again.

"You have nothing keeping you here. Join me and I can give you a purpose. Teach you to use your gift."

She released her grip again. I spit in her face.

"No," I said with a shaky voice.

It felt like I took a phantom punch to the gut.

"Oh sweetie," she teased. "You are in for a long night."

--time skip--

She was right.

It felt like days of the same cycle. Hitting, choking, and then negotiating for me to join her.

I always said no.

I held onto my free will and was ready to face death for it.

My body was weaker now. Arms barely holding up, legs weak, my head hanging down.

I yelped when there was a sudden jerk on my hair.

"You could make this all stop," she taunted.

"Go. To. Hell," I repeated like I always had.

She growled at me and used her powers to grab my throat, "You ungrateful, cowardly, selfish little-"

Amara didn't finish her speech before she was thrown into the far wall behind me.

I could barely even process what was happening before Sam was in front of me, untying the ropes.

"Sam," I muttered, voice weak and head spinning.

"We're here, we've got you," he promised.

I reached out and grabbed his shoulders as he worked on the ropes by my legs.

"What's going on," I asked.

"I'll explain in a minute," he said.

Sam was then thrown across the room. I almost collapsed as disappeared.

I was frantic.

I pulled at the ropes around my legs, convinced that I was going to die in a minute. My legs were weak and probably had some blood flow cut off earlier.

"Hey, hey," Dean was at the side of the platform, helping me down carefully. "There you go."

"I got them," Sam promised, running over from wherever he had been thrown. "Go help Cas and Chuck."

Who the hell was Chuck?

He helped me into the backseat, "Are you okay?"

"I feel like one massive bruise," I muttered. He sat next to me, letting me rest on his shoulder. "You should go help them."

Sam shook his head, "No, I was told to protect you."

I nodded against his shoulder. I was getting tired after all that had happened.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. "It was my idea to drag you into this world. I knew the risk but I was just so desperate to stop Amara that I... I didn't care."

"I'm okay," I moved so my chin was on his shoulder. "I just need to work more."

"You shouldn't have to carry this weight-"

"I wouldn't have agreed to go with you guys if I thought that," I cut him off. "I'm alright now, Sam. Don't blame yourself for this."

Sam didn't speak. I knew that he didn't believe me. But he didn't speak against me either. He just wrapped his arm around me and held me close to his side.

It was only a minute longer before the others came running out. Dean, Cas, and... that must've been Chuck.

"Who is that," I mumbled to Sam.

"You alright, kid," Dean asked as he got into the driver's seat. Sam didn't have time to answer my question.

"I'm alive," I replied. "Is Amara-"

"She vanished on us," he said. Cas got into the passenger seat and Chuck sat in the back with Sam and me.

"Here, let me," Chuck reached over a touched my forehead.

I took a deep breath as I felt myself healing.

"Better," he asked. I nodded, still tired and not getting off of Sam's shoulder. "I should introduce myself. I'm Chuck... or God."

"What," I asked, now overwhelmed. "You're... You're God?"

"He's telling the truth," Dean promised as he pulled out onto the road quickly.

"Woah," I muttered. "Some of your angels are dicks."

Chuck let out a laugh at my blunt comment. I saw the rest of the car tense up.

"Yeah... that's my fault."

"Oh, I know," I nodded. "Thank you... for helping them save me."

"You're welcome," he grinned at me.

I closed my eyes, relaxing against Sam's shoulder again, wrapping my arms around one of his. I slowly let myself fall asleep.

I knew this life was going to be hard when I first met the boys and I was ready for that. I'd rather it be me suffering than the rest of the world.

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[invisibleraven]

Another kiss prompt: 39 + Peterpatter?

Reggie winced as his bass let out a sour note, adjusting the pegs so it would be in tune for their show this weekend. There was no way he could let the rhythm section of the band down with an untuned bass.

But of course, Murphy's Law had to come into effect, as as soon as he plugged the instrument into his amp, there was a groan and a spark, with no sound coming from the amp. Reggie groaned, as he knew there was no way he could afford a new one before their next gig. Thankfully he knew how to fix most minor issues with his gear, and gathered the tools he needed.

He opened the garage door, given Bobby had told them not to ruin his lola's rugs. The last thing he wanted was to incur Celia's wrath, especially where she was nice enough to let them practice in her garage until all hours, and usually provided them with snacks and grandmotherly advice whenever called upon to do so.

And the hits kept coming as he opened the door to find the rare LA rain shower coming down outside. Reggie cursed, but hoped if he stayed in the doorway he would be out of the range of the fat droplets coming down and still avoid making too much of a mess. Thankfully his amp didn't look too bad, and he quickly set about fixing the worst of it.

Unfortunately, Reggie never did have much luck, as each wire he reconnected sent a small shock through him, causing him to wince. He knew he could put this project off until later, even tomorrow, but Reggie was the type who had to see a project through, as his chances of abandoning if he walked away were high. So he put up with the odd shock and ache in his hands as he twisted each screw with the shitty screwdriver he managed to dig up.

"Hey Reg, whatcha doin'?" came a voice from behind him, and Reggie jumped almost a mile in the air, singing his fingers in the process as he had touched a wire in the wrong spot. He whirled around to find Luke there, looking rumpled and sheepish.

"How the hell?" Reggie asked, putting his burned fingers into his mouth to soothe the ache.

"Was asleep in the loft, woke up just a moment ago, saw you attempting to electrocute yourself," Luke said, easing Reggie's fingers from his mouth and looking them over. "Looks like you got a little shock damage. Did you even unplug the amp before you started to work?"

"Of course I did! I'm not that-" Reggie trailed off as he saw the cord leading from the amp to the socket in the wall. "Oh."

Luke shook his head, but then started laying tiny kisses against every small mark the wires and screws had littered over Reggie's hands. He gave the bassist a cheeky smirk as he did, his eyes shining with mirth as Reggie fought to breathe. He could feel every press of lips, the sly swipe of tongue, and gave an audible gulp as Luke trailed more kisses up Reggie's arm, his neck, and finally placing a sloppy one on his cheek.

"I know you wanna fix your amp, but you gotta protect your instrument as well there dude. When the rain stops I'll help you figure out how to finish the amp," Luke said, walking over to unplug it. "Just maybe with less electricity this time.

"Oh I wouldn't say that..." Reggie said under his breath, still a little shocked from Luke's bold moves of comfort earlier. He had just gotten a very good idea of how they could spend the time waiting out the rain after all, and he was sure it would still make sparks fly, though maybe in a less hazardous way this time...