#I promise you I won't be rabid

[imagination-confusion]

Ask me about my Smiling Critters x Welcome Home AU

I promise I'll be normal

[trillgutterbug]

good stuff in the podcast today guys

[peachesofteal]

Imagine being a 24/7 lifestyle sub with ghoap being the doms 🫣 with an eternity collar and everything

I’m foaming at the mouth like a rabid raccoon

🪦

18+ / pre- negotiated everything / ghoap x reader / consensual everything Good girl who waits at the door on her knees for her boys to get home.

Good girl who sits quiet and naked and doesn't move a muscle until it swings wide and they appear on the other side, mouths curling into predator's jaws, excited and gleaming with the glint of sadism that makes this entire thing work.

"Have you been good, darling?" Simon circles, inspecting. A firm hand between your shoulder blades presses you the cold, hardwood floor, thumbs spreading your folds wide from behind for inspection.

"Yes, sir." Your tongue tastes polish, the black sheen of a boot.

"Did ye miss us?" Johnny rubs the flat of his palm over the swell of your ass.

"Yes, sir." You breathe. Your body burns, pulses, in the dregs of desire, the ache between your legs long shifted from delicate to ravenous, sweetness to agony.

"Did ye touch?" He explores your body, stroking down your slit, swirling fingertips in the sticky mess that leaks from you. He clicks his tongue. "Ye didnae touch, did ye? Did ye leave this little pussy alone like promised?"

"Y-yes." you stammer, and then bite your tongue. You might have, once. Briefly.

When you fail to punctuate with the honorific, a hand cracks against your ass.

"Sir!" You grit, and Simon chuckles.

"Bet I could make you cum right now then." He thumbs your hole, lightly tapping against where you're desperate for him to push inside, and you bite down on your tongue to keep the pleads from spilling out. "Let's see how swollen you are." He moves you in a blink, your back now flat against the floor, and he positions your feet wide, allowing unfettered access for both of them.

"Poor thing." Johnny coos, spreading your folds with two fingers, knuckle brushing your clit. The contact jolts, sends electric shock up your spine, and your muscles tense, nearly shaking. Simon hooks a finger in your collar and tugs your face up to his for a kiss, long and sweet with emotion before pulling away. The softness in his eyes lingers, and then vanishes, and you know you won't see it again for hours.

"Give her a kiss, Johnny." He instructs, and Johnny knocks your thighs wider, mouth closing just over your clit, tongue flicking against the bud. "That feel good, love?"

"Yes, sir." You're well practiced at speaking under... duress, like this, but it's still a feat. Simon's lips curl into a smirk, and your eyes widen.

"Did you touch yourself, good girl? Did you rub this little clit while we were gone, make yourself come when you weren't supposed to?" He reaches between your legs, stroking a slow circle before closing this thumb and his forefinger in a pinch.

You shriek.

"Tell the truth, now." He's stern, but still, you shake your head.

"Poor darling, just couldn't wait, could you? Couldn't control yourself."

"N-no. No, sir. I didn't- I didn't..." Johnny's pulling something up his phone, video playback of some kind, but you can hardly focus over Simon still holding your clit firm, the pressure too much, but with no friction. Your sanity feels like it's starting to slip away.

"What's this then?" Johnny grabs your face, cheeks squished, and your stomach drops when he presses play, video feed of yourself in bed over a week ago, eyes closed in bliss, hand obviously moving between your legs under the covers. Oh, fuck.

"I didn't mean to." You whisper. You did... but that's not part of the scene. "I swear, sir."

"I think you need some help with this, love. Clearly, you can't be trusted." Simon hums, and then pulls you up to your knees, and then feet.

When he marches you to the bedroom, you know your fate is sealed.

The restraints are always soft. They tie you easily, arms, hands, knees and feet, hooks and o-rings drilled into the bed frame so they can easily string you up. Usually, you love being tied. Love the feeling of helplessness, of being powerless. You're always loved, cherished, taken care of. Unable to make any decisions or do anything on your own, just the way you like it.

Johnny kisses your pussy sloppily, tongue and teeth and lips all over, paying special attention to your clit, working you closer and closer to an orgasm, but pulling away at the last second. It goes on for too long, possibly hours, and you turn to pieces.

It's turned you into a teary, whiny mess. A desperate, pleading girl at the mercy of her boys.

You think you'll finally be given reprieve, finally given your reward when Johnny pulls away to undress, Simon too-

but all hopes are dashed when Simon produces the wand.

"Sir." you whine, trying to flex, but he shakes his head.

"Stay still." It starts on low, not nearly enough to bring you to the edge, and Johnny holds it to your clit, just barely making contact.

You want to scream.

"Please, sir." You won't be able to do hours of this. You'll fall apart, you know it.

Still, they both shake their head. Your hips twitch, head tossing, and Simon smoothes a hand over your belly, stroking the inside of your thighs before covering Johnny's, turning the intensity up, the head of the wand vibrating at the higher frequency, sending shivers and shocks through you. Yes.

"Does it feel good?" Johnny coos, eyes trained on your cunt. You nod, catapulting towards an orgasm.

"Yes, sir... please, can I- ah, fuck, can I cum?" You're going to explode, and you can't until they say. It's ingrained in you.

"Ye can." Johnny says, "give us a big one, good girl, that's it. Look at her, clenchin' up nice and tight." Your orgasm washes you clean, wrings you out, and your spine tenses and then relaxes, thighs desperately trying to close around the wand.

It doesn't stop. Your eyes widen, and Simon presses the button, increasing the intensity- again.

No.

"Stop." You croak, but they only shake their head.

"Cannae stop now, love. Ye've got so many to give us." Your eyes roll back into your skull, body already primed and racing towards another orgasm, muscles too tight.

"N-no, I can't- I- ah, ah- I'm goin' cum, stop, I can't-"

"Go on then." Simon instructs gruffly, giving you permission at the last second, and it rockets through you, explosions erupting through your veins. He doesn't pull it away, and you nearly shriek as it walks the line between pleasure and pain.

Another orgasm comes just as quick as the last, and you cry out, legs straining against the restraints.

Johnny licks your cheeks, kisses your lips, and then slips the velcro belt under your back after it's over.

"No! No, no, please, please-"

"Shhh. It'll feel good, promise." He laughs, bringing the velcro around your belly, strapping the handle of the wand in so the head rests directly over your clit, without anyone having to hold it. "Just what the doctor ordered, hmm? Got to give ye all ye can take, since ye need it so bad. Couldn't wait till we got home."

"I'm s-sorry, sir. I'm-" You choke on your words, and Johnny rubs your arms, positioning himself on all fours above you, nose in your neck.

Not fair.

Simon sees your outrage, and smiles.

"Only good girls get a cock in their hole." He says seriously, and Johnny's eyes flutter shut, lip tugged between his teeth. "Deep breath, good boy- here it comes." You see the moment Simon pushes into his body, the way Johnny's stomach muscles tighten and flutter, how his brows pinch together. He moans, and so does Simon, and your heart aches at being left out.

The wand doesn't allow you to wallow for long. It burns against your sensitive nub now, and when your face starts to heat, Johnny watches intently.

"She's goin' cum again." He groans, body bouncing with the force of Simon's thrusts. His fingers play in the wet slick between your legs. "Fuck, darling. Love when ye get the bed all messy like this." Simon shoves his cock deep and Johnny's mouth drops open, and then they both still, watching, waiting.

"Are you close?" Simon asks sweetly, false sincerity dripping like the tears on your cheeks. You nod pathetically, and they rear back to watch your pussy, more focused there, over your face. "Poor little thing, can't stop 'erself, even if she wanted. Maybe you do need a doctor, love." You're delirious, half listening, half moaning, half delving into madness. You can't tell where your orgasm begins in this moment, the wave of it overtaking you in a gasp.

"Maybe we should have the captain look at her." Johnny grunts, pushing himself back onto Simon, panting. "Have him and his missus give her an inspection."

"Ss-sir," you moan. "sir, please, s-stop. I can't cum anymore." They ignore you.

"We should invite them over." Simon shoves Johnny forward, and his lips curve against your skin, kissing your cheek over and over. You don't know who they're talking about, but sharing is such an alien concept to you right now, the only thing you're able to focus on is the painful bloom of pleasure.

"Fuck, fuck- Simon- Johnny, ah-"

"Again? So soon?" Simon chuckles, and then he cups your pussy, pressing the vibrating head closer, and you scream into your orgasm, black dots spreading across your vision until there's nothing left but a void of darkness.

The next thing you know, you're untied, unstrapped, with your cheek smushed against Simon's chest, Johnny rubbing your back with a washcloth. "There ye are."

"Hi."

"Hi, darling. Welcome back."

[amarynthian-chronicles]

Ballroom shenanigans gone wrong

Sun: may I have this dance, my beauty?

Y/N: oh, I already promised Moon to have the first dance.

Sun: not to worry, he is a little tied up at the moment. I will gladly take his place, I cannot let my breathtaking aurora feel lonely.

Y/N: technically Eclipse was supposed to dance with me right after Moon.

Sun: oh, I am sure he is not being attacked by rabid racoons somewhere in the parking lot.

Y/N: that's rather specific.

Moon, clearing his throat as he ominously appears behind Sun, carrying chains: brother, a word with you.

Eclipse, covered in grass and a racoon napping on his shoulder: several words.

Sun, eye twitching as he smiled cheerfully at them: My beloved family! How glad I am to see you! I have a very good explanation for all of this!

Sun, acting as if he is about to speak, but then quickly picking Y/N up bridal style, running away: so long, suckers!

Moon: he won't get far, correct?

Eclipse, grinning: I already bribed the racoons to wait for him outside.

[frownyalfred]

I'm sure you didn't mean it that way, but the Bruce being there for Lois' when she's giving birth (and Clark too) gives me such OT3 vibes. I am obsessed tbh. If Bruce is already being in a relationship with them and putting aside his fear and excitement to be there for Lois, and then when he holds the baby, a baby he'll get to help raise and grows? He totally cries.

Or maybe they get together after Jon is born, because Lois and Clark are staying with him at the manor so they can help out with the baby, with plenty of room for Martha too since she's too old to sleep on Clark's shitty pullout sofa bed. Bruce has been Clark's best friend for years, but suddenly he becomes Lois' best friend too. And when they leave the manor, and return home, Lois and Clark find themselves missing Bruce. His presence, his dry sense of humor (and his ability to soothe any baby- Lois swears it's his superpower, Clark says it's because Bruce has such a similar vocabulary, with all his grunts and huffs, babies assume he's one of them), his unwavering companionship.

So one night, over glass of wine for Lois and a sparking grape juice for Clark, they confess to missing Bruce. To wanting more, even as they promise they won't/didn't betray other... only they both realize they want the same thing.

Sorry, I just think this would be so sweet and perfect. I just love SuperBatLane ♡♡♡

I’m starting to think that maybe there’s something in the male Wayne bloodline that makes them such rabid polycule bait. Like their particular brand of crazy can only be handled by multiple people (Martha and Alfred for Thomas, Lois and Clark for Bruce, etc etc)

[sweetandscarlet]

sub rosa - pt 1

warnings: handmaiden!reader, queen!wanda, slight jealously, wanda being an overprotective mommy, mention of beheadings. smut coming soon !

words: 1.8k

an: hi all! i haven't written or posted any work in so long so i'm breaking this one shot up into 2 parts just to play the field a little and see how well it receives. - saph xo

as you walked through the castle halls your hands fidgeted slightly behind you as they rested against the small of your back, your eyes stayed trained on red locks that swayed gently in front of you and every so often they'd flicker to the tall man who walked alongside the woman you worked for.

you tried not to pay attention to their conversation, instead, you focused on the details that lay before you. the walls that were decorated in gold, the maximoff family crest that had been sewn onto red banners that hung gloriously, and the gentle breeze blowing through the golden tassels that were attached at the bottom. 

you distracted yourself with anything you could see, letting your mind focus on the elements of your adopted home instead of letting jealous thoughts eat away at you as a rabid dog would to a rabbit.

"i suppose that's all for now, ser jarvis. will you be attending the celebration tonight? it wouldn't be a true carnival without the commanding officer there to toast with me"

your head turned towards the redhead, your feet coming to an instant halt as you awaited the goodbye you had been patiently anticipating for the last hour.

"of course, your majesty" the tall man nodded with a smile, his left hand never faltering from the handle of his sword. "i can imagine my men will drink the castle dry after the battle we endured"

the redhead smiled back in response before turning away, the heels of her shoes clicking with every confident step she took as she continued her walk through the halls. you scrambled behind her, your feet hurrying to catch up with her pace.

as you eventually returned to the redhead's side, you cleared your throat before speaking. "wanda, i'm not a knight by any means but.. are you sure this battle is won? starks men grow fewer every day but he still has thousands left remaining, he could-"

wanda's head whipped to where you stood, an eyebrow quirking slightly as green eyes bore into you. "what have i told you about calling me that outside of my chambers? if anyone hears you addressing me as anything other than 'your majesty' then they'll be bright enough to assume the queen is spineless by letting her handmaiden speak to her that way"

your eyes widened slightly, your hands once again fidgeting behind you as you realise your mistake. "i- i'm sorry, your majesty. it won't happen again, i promise"

a smile itched at wanda's lips as she scanned the delicate features of your face, warmth swirling deeply in her chest as she gazed upon you. "good girl, now follow me.. i have some more business to attend to and your presence is the only thing right now that's keeping me sane"

an airy chuckle escapes your lips and you nod your head in response. your fingers twitch as the urge to run your hand down the length of wanda's arm inches its way into your mind but as always, you know better than that. so instead you busy yourself with the material of your dress, allowing the fabric to course through delicate fingers and ease the desire to touch the woman before you.

ᗢ

"your majesty, if i may.." all heads that are gathered around the table at the small council meeting turn towards yelena, a savvy blonde woman with a thick russian accent who sits to the left of the queen. with her striking nobility and tranquillity, you have never doubted the famously significant role 'knight of house maximoff' being handed to the blonde. apart from you, yelena is the only other person in the walls of her kingdom that wanda trusts wholeheartedly.

as all eyes focus on yelena, you watch as wanda gently nods toward her, granting her permission to speak freely.

"i've conversed with my sister up north and she feels it important to continue your alliance with the house of harkness. with the numeral amount of men pledged by her side and her domain over wheat and rice, we'd solely benefit during this war and the harsh winter that threatens our people and this land"

wanda hums at the thought and you can see the gears turning in her mind. "alright, you make a great point yelena, thank you. could you send a raven and tell her-"

"your majesty.. wait, do you think it to be wise to have your handmaiden involved in our small council meetings? for all we know she could be travelling to stark and disclosing all of the delicate information that we share in this very room"

your eyes widen as they shoot toward a voice on your far right, one that belongs to a tall, well-built man named steve, wanda's master of the coin. his narrow gaze never falters on you, causing you to avert your eyes back to wanda. you swallow a lump of humiliation, mentally willing away the tears that threaten to spill at any given moment.

wanda clears her throat, placing her hands on the large oak table situated in front of her before rising from her seat. the chair scrapes against the floor and all heads quickly turn back to the queen, seemingly copying her action until all members of the council are stood, including steve.

"no no, everyone remain in your seats.." the sound of wood scraping the floor returns once again as they obey the command. "apart from you steve, stay on your feet"

the arrogant expression stutters on the tall man's face, his features altering to a more concerned state.

"everyone, please let steve be an example to all of you as to why you shouldn't voice your apprehensions towards me unless i grant it. y/n.." wanda motions a hand to you, her hard expression faltering for a split second when her eyes fall upon you before it quickly reverts back to a stern gaze. "has been my handmaiden for quite some time now and she is someone whom i trust greatly. anyone who has hardship with her, has hardship with me, your queen. so i suggest you all choose your words carefully in future, or i'm afraid heads will roll"

you turn your attention back to steve who now stands frigid and skittish, his eyes bulging out of his sockets at the mere threat. it's a sight that almost makes you laugh but you swallow the motion down and remain collected.

"do i make myself clear?" wanda spits, the flat of her palms moving from the wood to bunch into fists, her knuckles turning white at the pressure.

a collective of "yes, your majesty" quickly sings out into the room.

wanda smiles at that before returning to the comfort of her seat. "steve, you can sit now. if we've all finished voicing our useless opinions, let's get back to what's important shall we?"

ᗢ

heels clicked furiously in front of you as you struggle to keep up with such an intense pace. it was evident that wanda was still rattled by steve's comment regarding you, and you couldn't help but feel warmth and the familiar sensation of butterflies swirling around in your chest at the rage and protectiveness she was struggling to maintain.

"your majesty.." you gasped out, your feet practically dragging across the floor as you failed to match wanda's speed. "please, slow down. i don't care for what happened, steve he-"

"i care!" wanda bellowed, her voice practically roaring with fury as she whipped her head around to face you. your feet came to a quick halt, your body only stopping a few inches away from the redhead. "and so should you, he has no right to be speaking of you in that manner, you're just as important as him, if not more"

your eyes darted around, worry growing quickly as the realisation hit that you still were yet to reach the queen's chambers and that anybody could overhear this conversation. "my love, please.. someone could hear us" you uttered, your voice barely above a whisper.

wanda sighed, her chest heaving greatly as the weight of your words set in. she quickly scanned the halls and when she was sure it was void of people, she grasped your hand in hers and tugged you down the hallway to your left and toward her chambers.

when you and wanda eventually reach the entrance to her room she pushes open the heavy door with her free hand before promptly ushering you inside, she nudges it closed and then turns the large silver key until she hears a loud click, indicating it is locked and you were both safe to speak freely.

"i apologise for my outburst," wanda starts as she turns her body to face you, her features now softened and movements gentle as she steps toward you. "but i won't apologise for protecting you and your feelings. i care about you too much to let some narrow-minded prick think he can convey his opinions regarding who sits in on my small council meetings"

you emulate wanda's actions and step forward, seemingly closing the gap between you until you can feel the redhead's hot breath hit the cool skin of your nose. wanda's eyes stay trained on yours and it takes everything in you not to nervously avert your gaze. raising your hands slightly you cusp one of wanda's, your thumb stroking delicately on her soft skin.

"thank you, wanda, it means more than you know to hear that" your voice is gentle as you speak, something wanda admires greatly. the way words ostensibly sound as sweet as honey while they roll off of your tongue with complete unrestraint. "and i must admit, watching you defend my honour like that.. it evokes something in me that i can't explain"

wanda quirks an eyebrow at that, the corner of her lips upturning in a slight smirk. "oh? care to elaborate, darling?"

the knots in your stomach tighten slightly as wanda wiggles her hand out of your soft grasp and snakes her arms around the small of your back, pulling your bodies flush together.

the way her voice drops slightly and her tone swiftly switches to a teasing one never fails to elite a fire within you.

"well, i-"

a knock at the chamber door echoes throughout the room and wanda groans in frustration at the sudden interference. green eyes disappear as her eyelids flutter closed, and you watch the queen inhale deeply before you're once again faced with her captivatingly piercing embers.

a small chuckle escapes your lips and you lean forward, placing a chaste kiss on her now flushed-rosy pink cheeks. "go on, your majesty. duty calls.. i'll be here waiting patiently for your return"

wanda entraps her bottom lip between pearly white teeth with a soft hum, her eyelids growing hooded at your use of her title. "god, words can’t express how much i love it when you call me that”

[lilacgaby]

day four

~2.2k

chapter select!

she woke up well-rested and smiley.

she decided to go ahead and prepare for the day as well, greeting mirko as she got a drink of water before going to shower.

the mission wasn't until two in the afternoon, which meant they'd have to be at best jeanist's agency at noon.

so she had three hours just to herself.

she soaked in the sun, effectively getting her meal for the day, as she scrolled mindlessly on her phone.

huge weights were off her shoulders with bakugo, but still

she'd promised she'd explain her feelings after the quirk wore off.

"you really shouldn't be worrying about that today,

not unless you really wanna die. and i kinda don't want my best partner to die so.. leave it for later."

rumi (mirko) said, while handing her tea.

she accepted, and sipped it slowly.

"yeah, you're right. for tomorrow then.

tomorrow."

for the rest of the time, she relaxed around, soaking in just enough sun so she wouldn't get a stomachache, but not too little so she wouldn't get a headache.

she watched some t.v, ate some snacks for fun, doom scrolled again,

all until rumi ordered her to start her ready.

it's not like they weren't late yesterday already, but she guessed real missions were a lot more important than debriefings.

the only sound in the huge room was music as rumi and [name] both prepared for the mission at hand.

[name] admired herself in the hallway mirror as she waited for rumi to hurry up.

as soon as mirko stepped out, [name] opened the door for them both, and shut it behind them.

as they walked, [name] texted mina, thinking she'd be too busy to respond.

                                                      flowered[name]

                                crazy stuff happened yesterday

                           accidental confession gone right

                    but i worked it out with bakugo so my

                                  life is no longer the worst :))

                                                                    delivered

now that that's out of the way-

oh mina texted back.

alienqueenslime

NO WAY

YOUR LYING

            

                                                     flowered[name]

                                                                          youre*

                                     and i'm telling the truth so

                                       do w that what you will

  i got a mission tho so i won't respond at all :D

                                                             

alienqueenslime

you can't just drop that and leave ong

omg**

the second u step in the dorms your explaining what's up [name]

read 10:47

she muted the suddenly lively "OPERATION [NAME] x BAKUGO" chat.

she had to focus, her life was on the line from now on.

after a familiar walk, with an even more fmailair annoyance at the time they lost because of mirko's rabid fans,

they arrived at the agency, [name]'s heart in her throat.

she'd be dealing with real murderers, people who viewed her as a disgrace to society. people who wouldn't care about killing her.

she had to be flawless. it's all she could afford.

⋆｡˚ ⋆｡˚ ❁

the walk to the area was calm.

she couldn't stop her hands from trembling as she walked. the missions she'd been on before had involved murders, injuries, and blood splattered. it'd involved her hurting people to the brink of death, seeing the destruction she caused.

but in her mind this was another level of cruelty though. they were killing heroes just to prove something.

how many bodies would they let fall to prove their point? would she become on--

she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"calm down. you're strong, and the rest of us are too. you're not gonna get hurt. or fucking die or something, got it?"

"got it."

best jeanist and mirko continued to lead them through a building, they had to climb to the top.

now was the waiting game.

genie would pass through this alleyway at approximately three o-clock sharp. it was currently two-forty.

the twenty minutes of waiting was pure anxiety manifested.

katsuki kept annoyingly walking around in a circle, seemingly bored as hell.

mirko wasn't any better, the thumping of her foot revealing her anticipation.

best jeanist had been eyeing the same spot in the alleyway for the entire duration.

and [name] was fighting off the internal deja vu that came from being on the building.

"you scared?" katsuki suddenly asked.

"yes."

"oh yeah, almost forgot you're a truth teller now or some shit."

"right."

she continued to mess with her hands, now  shaking slightly. even more with his added presence.

"so, you think i'm too weak to save you? is that it?"

[name]'s face scrunched up in confusion as her truth left her mouth. "no. where did that come from?"

"do you think dumb and dumber behind me can't save you?"

"no. why are you asking me this?"

he turned to look her in the eyes, his arms moving dramatically to make his point.

"then wipe that look off your face and focus. we're all strong as hell, you're strong too, you being on this team is proof.

so, get the fuck out of your head already. it's pissing me off."

he turned and got back to his strolling around.

he's right. [name] thought.

he always is.

just as [name] was about to thank him, she suddenly sensed the presence of a group of people in the building under her.

nine.. no.. twelve vigilantes were waiting for genie too.

mirko sensed it too, and immediately signaled to bakugo and jeanist not to speak anymore.

it was time.

as genie did their routine inspection through the alley, calling out for any homeless or lost civilians  along the way, they suddenly became surrounded by.. it had to be at least twenty villains.

one of them suddenly spoke out to them.

"does it feel nice to be rich because of us?"

"what?" genie replied, genuinely confused.

"you're only rich off the suffering we cause to people. the suffering of humanity as a whole."

"what are you talking abo--"

"if people like you didn't exist, heroes who are only in it for the money, heroes who misuse their quirks to hurt people, villains or not, we wouldn't need heroes at all."

"maybe, but that's not what's happening. that's not the society we live in, so you all should stop playing hypotheticals." genie reasoned, trying to discreetly call for backup.

before one of them noticed and used a string quirk to snatch the device out their hands.

genie scoffed. "so what? you kill me and a couple heroes, go back and feel good about yourselves? why not kill a couple villains instead--"

"we have. and don't worry about your future, it was set in stone the day you began to study as a hero. playing hypotheticals might be what we're doing now but,

soon it could very much be a reality."

the twenty villains all assumed fighting stances, it seemed at least five of them were quirkless or had non-combative quirks, as nothing manifested directly from their bodies.

genie was suddenly bound by strings, and before they could manifest their three wishes, they were silenced by another villain's quirk.

mirko and jeanist motioned to both bakugo and [name] to get ready for battle. they were jumping in.

with mirko and bakugo as close-range fighters, and jeanist and [name] as support, they ran in to stop the fight from progressing.

"oh, so more heroes joined the party? don't you feel bad using literal children to fight your battles?"

"oh shut the hell up! you don't know what you're talking about, i'm here because i'm destined to be the best, number one. and you losers are nothing to me!" bakugo proclaimed, letting out a huge explosion with his gauntlets.

while it managed to knock out a couple of the villains, the talkative one seemed to have a deflective quirk.

"so, you're interested in heroism just for the money and fame too huh? guess we have to take you out before you become a future problem, kid."

the same explosion that was absorbed by the man's reflective ability was then released back,

with his aim on mirko.

she dodged just in time.

jeanist used the fibers in the clothes around them  and managed to restrain another handful of villains.

it seemed they had  only had a small number of actual combative quirks, and used their pure numbers as an intimidation tactic.

the six left standing were protected by some sort of force,

they thankfully had no bargaining power, as genie had escaped during bakugo's first attack.

the force didn't extend to the ground beneath them, so [name] let out a devastating attack that scattered the group evenly across the wide alleyway.

it seemed whoever made the force field couldn't keep it up unless they weren't at harm.

only two of them had now revealed their quirks, with the rest being unknown.

bakugo and jeanist blazed through their enemies, explosion after explosion was let out as they plowed through.

the energy-absorbent man became no issue as jeanist focused on him instead, giving him no power to bounce off of.

mirko and [name] however waited for the others to make a move first.

a villain finally did, with blades unsheathing from every part of his body he ran in to attack mirko.

if [name] didn't have to worry about the two suddenly charging her, she would've had an easy advantage over him.

"you heroes think you're so much better than we are, you're not! take this!" he threw a star shaped object at her, and it clung to her body.

she tried to rip it off fast, but she was suddenly winded by a punch,

crap. that other lady.

she was thrown into the ground, a painfully harsh exhale leaving her lips as she made contact with the floor.

"[name]!" katsuki yelled, attempting to rush over to her aid.

jeanist had finished restraining the other villains, the ones she and mirko were facing were the only ones left.

but a forcefield suddenly overcame her.

the realization set in as she saw the strange purple field set over her.

she'd have to beat the two herself.

katsuki, who skidded to a stop at the sight of the forcefield, felt at a loss.

he needed to help her, but he couldn't. he felt so helpless.

"fuck! [name] don't you dare die or ill fucking kill you!"

his words didn't reach her as the villains started to mock her.

"are you scared little girl? you picked a big fight."

"i'm scared as hell." i didn't want to say that.

"but ill try."

"try what?"

"try to win."

she was so terrified. terrified at the realization that these people didn't care if she died. they'd even prefer it that way. she was so preoccupied that she didn't notice mirko had taken down the blade-filled man, and was now attempting to break down the forcefield.

the villains mocking words and laughs were incoherent as she tried to form a plan and fast.

okay, if i take out the force field. i can get help.

the woman is the one who's upholding it, so i have to focus on her, no matter what.

the grass that had been under the laid concrete that was destroyed as she fell was now partly exposed. a small leaf from the overgrown side of the building right on top.

i can win.

she got up, and feigned attacks at the man with the--

wait, what was his quirk anyways?

as he dodged her attacks, he started counting down out loud.

"ten, nine, eight,"

she didn't know what would happen, but she didn't want to find out. his words revived the huge pit of despair that she had grown accustomed to. she frantically used the rocks around her to attack as fast as she could, while slowly growing a vine towards the force-fielder.

"seven, six, five"

the vine was almost reaching the lady's leg, just a little further. her arms were burning from the force she was exterting.

"four, three, two"

all the tenseness had finally left her body.

a smile adorned her face.

it made it.

"one!"

as the star shape object blew up on her body, the vine had rapidly grown to fully restrain the other villain.

while the damage on the exterior of her body was a wound that resulted only from the small explosion that occurred on her body, it sent a paralysis through her that sent her falling.

i won.

mirko tackled the star-wielding man, effectively knocking him out.

jeanist quickly restrained the remaining villains and called for a medic, as katsuki ran to her side.

she was awake, just in shock.

"hey, [name], you okay?" katsuki said, his voice unsure, and softer than usual. He shook her lightly."

"i'm so scared, but happy.

i won.

did you see?"

it felt like katsuki was the one hit with a truth quirk at the question.

"of course i did, you went insane [name]."

she let out a satisfied laugh, accompanied by an "ow!" afterwards after she had tried to reposition herself.

"okay, well, as my victory reward, i'm gonna go to sleep.

don't think i'm dead or anything."

she shut her eyes immediately after. what she didn't know was that her absolute happiness at being recognized by her crush, who she respected so much, made small pink roses blossom out of the crack in the floor.

all that she remembered before she drifted off to sleep, was the feeling of being picked up, and the distinct smell of caramel.

prev | next!

taglist (comment to be added!): @cc1306 @reads-stuff-quietly @dazqa

[ssailormoonn]

❛ The Balance ❜ ─ 05

Yandere!JugramHaschwalth X Fem!Quincy!Reader

WC; 3.3k+ | !MDNI! | TW/CW :: x fem reader, she/her pronouns, running away, kidnapping, marriage, no abortion, going through with the pregnancy

⋆·˚ ༘ * 𝒮𝒴𝒩𝒪𝒫𝒮𝐼𝒮 :: Yandere!Jugram kidnaps the reader with the help of the Bambies. {Y/n} becomes pregnant with his child but wants to abort due to the circumstances, trying to keep it a secret. Jugram finds out, becomes furious, insisting on a marriage (coerced). She escapes to the human world, but Jugram tracks her down, discovers her plan to abort the child, and forcibly takes her back.

part 4 | part 5 | m.list | bleach m.list | quincy m.list

Jugram had a tight hold of your arm, fingers nipping into your skin as he pulled your out of infirmary. The blood whooshed with each frantic pulse as your heart thumped ominously in your chest. With all your might, you pulled away. Jugram was immovable, and you were forced into an odd trot through resplendent halls.

"Please, Jugram—" you begged, your voice again trembling with a fault almost unseen in you. "I have to stay here. I just can't go back to that room. Not now."

His eyes were as cold as ice, as if he denied every word you were saying, yet his body language couldn't be more decided. Your pleas fell on deaf ears, his eye remaining focused ahead, lips out in firm line, and his strides ate up the distance toward the shared room. "You're mine. You need to know and understand that," was the last growl he concluded with.

You fought harder against his hold as your protests grew more frantic.

"No, stop! I don't want to go back there. Please, just listen to me!" you plead.

Suddenly, he stopped at the door to the room, wrenching to a halt just in front of it. There was a dark, threatened look to his eyes, and his eyes were hard and cold as he flung the door open.

He ordered, his voice leaving no room for argument.

You paused, turning back to me just then, a look of fear and rebelliousness in your eyes. "I'm not going in there," you said, with a tremulous but determined voice.

And then it happened: the complete snap from Jugram. His hand locked onto me like a vice before throwing me inside. I tripped, falling head first into the floor with a very solid thud. Before I could rise back up, Jugram was descending onto me, his eyes alight with the glare of an incredibly rabid, yandere madman.

"Do you think you can defy me?" It growled, his voice dark, his voice like some planet. "You think you stand a chance?"

You scrambled to your feet, backing away but Jugram, as feral as a cat, advanced after you. His calloused hand closed around your arm, tight, his fingers so tight they bruised as he drew you closer. "I won't tolerate disobedience," he said, the rage in his voice twisted, getting possessive. "You are mine, you will be with me, and you will accept what I've chosen for you."

Your pulse quickened feverishly under the heated gaze that Jugram gave you. But his eyes didn't soften one bit; his grip on you, so achingly tight, remained. "One learns to accept things," he said in a whisper that promised nothing good, "because you are going to be my wife and the mother of my child, and there is no escaping that."

That had tears streaming down your face, eyes trying to wrench free from his hold. "Please," was all you could shudder out. "I can't do this. I don't want to."

Jugram's eyes narrowed, expression cooling. "That is not for you to decide," he grumbled back. "I made the decision and you were to follow. There are no alternatives."

A final push—almost tender but hard—brought you further into the room. He never broke eye contact with you. "Stay where you are," he demanded, the tone of a man that doesn't expect his word to be questioned. "And remember—you're mine. You'll do as I order or face the consequences."

You sank to the floor, and as his long strides carried him out the door, your body started shaking with fear and anger. This was for real, and the thought of Jugram's possessive control really did take you to a whole new level of entrapment and helplessness.

You stumbled to the bed, your emotions getting the best of you, and crumbled down into the plush blankets. Jugram's possession and control felt too suffocating, and you broke the tears that you had been holding back. You buried your face in the underlayer of fabric and cried your heart out.

Hours seeped away, and you cried, cried until each tear washed away fears, frustrations, helplessness. The walls inside this room pressed closer around you, for you could not reconcile yourself and your existence with your circumstances, breathing in the sound of your sobs reverberated upon the ornate walls.

As if on cue, to the second that your tears mattered to be gone, the door opened creakily and Jugram entered the room. It was as though his very visage changed - his severity melted away to something just short of gentle, near tender. Jugram took measured careful steps as he came towards the bed and gazed at your tear-streaked face with what seemed concern in his eyes.

Wordlessly, he sat down beside you on the bed and first reached one arm around your back, pulling you into him, cradled against his chest. His touch was terribly gentle; his hand ran itself carefully over your hair in a calming, even rhythm.

Jugram mumbled across the top of your head, the baritone of his voice low and almost soothing in a manner that was pleasurable. "It's okay. I'm here now."

You could feel his warmth against you, but even though he held you with force, it strangely felt secure. Jugram's voice was soft, and he almost sounded tender as he continued to murmur softly against your ear, trying to hush your sobs. "I'm sorry for what I did," he said with an odd sincerity. "I didn't mean to hurt you. I did it because I love you."

He stopped, his fingers lightly tracing the bruises on your arm. "I've been rough; I know, baby, but then that's just because I do feel so deeply about you. Because I want nothing but the best for our future, because I want you to be mine and be with me, and I'm going to make it happen."

His words were soothingly unnerving, speaking to you of his control over you and his wretched sense of love; you could really feel the sincerity behind those words, but it came out with a sense of possessiveness that was hard to overlook.

Jugram pulled you closer, so close that he could wrap his arms protectively around you. "Please, don't cry," he whispered, arms holding you so tightly in your chest—the sound a warm breath in your ear. "We will cope with this together. You are safe with me. All you need to do is trust me."

Very, very gradually, as the heat of his body and his very substance filtered into your frazzled nerves, Jugram's tight hold on you began to relax. You had been utter worn-out from hours of crying, and the toll of those tears from earlier in the day had started to drop like a heavy weight atop your shoulder. Your sobs had dropped down to soft, ragged breaths as sleep began to tug you under.

Jugram felt the change in your mood and took the liberty to slightly cradle you closer, almost in an almost gentle, possessive manner. His digits skimmed through your hair, brushing down to your head, inching closer. His lips only touched your temple as he leaned down closer to talk to you.

"You are my everything," he whispered, singing in his tenor, making it hushed, almost hypnotic. "No one will ever have you. You are meant to be with me; you are meant to be mine. My good girl."

He put such a tender kiss on your forehead that his eyes were so dark with obsessive adoration. "I know now it hurts, but you'll see: whatever I am going to do, I'm going to do for us, for our future. I will save you, I will make you safe, and let nobody interfere with us."

He mumbled as you slipped off to sleep, his words a lulling assertion with the occasional obsessional oath. He spoke softly, his breath warm against your ear, "We'll be a family. Just you and me and our child. We'll make a perfect world, one where you can never leave me".

He tightened the hand holding her. As if he wanted to enforce this. "I will always be here," he swears with the fervor of a zealot, his voice transmuting into hoarse passion at the zenith. "You are mine, and nothing…" his breathless voice lowered tremulously, "will ever change that. If it's the last thing I do, I'll see to it you're happy, even though I have to chain you to me to do it, to keep you wrapped safe from the world."

Jugram's eyes lingered a mere moment on you with such a mix of tenderness and a more shadowy, possessive gleam that shone from the depths of his gaze. "My little one," he murmured, palming his hand tenderly against your back. "I may have only the smallest portion of strength left, but as long as you rest here between my arms, we will manage to move forward together."

You woke up the next morning to the gentle strokes of the early morning sun through thick draperies—soft as dawn itself, hardly able to remember the hulking, black, overwhelming hell you'd been living in. As you awoke, Jugram was not there next to you. And there he lay, an empty space, with a longing sweeping through you.

With the realization that this might just be your one time to get it right, you briskly pushed yourself off the bed. Gathering some courage, you moved stealthily through the room, making sure you didn't make any noise because of those creaking floorboards.

Each echo held even more magnitude after having been repeated at every turn, each extension of breath in the shallow gasps that had brought you in this hurry, your mind assailed by what needed to be done, to ensure that you were free. Grand halls that had once seemed imposing were now amazing with a labyrinth, the place in which one had to now navigate.

"What?" Bazz B almost ran into you as you turned the corner. The border crosser momentarily gave a look of alarm at your appearance before righting himself, before the end of his expression spun into cold, calculated calm.

"Hey," Bazz B replied. He was low in tone, holding steady. "What are you doing out here?"

You hesitated, your eyes flickering between him and the corridor that lay behind. "I… I need to get out," you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear gripping you. "I need to leave this place."

Bazz B narrowed his eyes to slits but gave a nod of understanding. "I can help you," he said with an almost fallacious tone of reassurance. "But you need to come with me. I'll get you out of here, but you have to come with me now."

You peered over at him warily, with still doubt perhaps present in your mind. "Really? You really won't tell Jugram?"

Bazz B's smile was tight, yet he held confidence in his decision. "I ain't sayin' nothin'. You got my word on that."

You nodded, though it was begrudgingly, and you set off after him, down the palace corridors. Adrenaline pounded through your chest, throbbing excitement but fear, mostly fear of being caught. Bazz B led you through a network of hidden passages, around the main quarters of the palace.

Very soon, you found yourself in a secluded room, empty of the royal grandeur, except for the rest of the palace. Bazz B's face went deadly serious with his preparations for the next process in your escape. "That's about as close as I can get you," he said, the next time from his coat pocket. "I'll get you right to the human world; you'd best remember you owe me this one, girl.".

Bazz B gave a job activation to the device. The room shimmered and twisted as if filled with a strange kind of energy. Eyes clamped shut, breath held, the world seemed to blur and shift.

And then you open your eyes to be standing in a complete different place, altogether different world, altogether teeming with familiar sounds and sights of humanity. You breathe the refreshing air of the city, trying to bring a tangible sense of relief and a small measure of freedom.

The voice sounded so loud in your ears, it could take over even the dull resonances of Bazz B's scream. ** "You're on your own now. Good luck."

Long strides determinedly taking him back into the palace, Bazz B. swept fast, his mind keeping pace with what that meant. He seemed to storm through the grand halls with purpose on his way to where Jugram resided in the palace.

Standing at the doorway, he took a deep breath before he knocked sharply. Jugram had already been in foul humor from how the events of the evening had turned out and called out low and impatient.

Bazz B exploded in the room, his expression schooled carefully to one of neutrality. Jugram sat behind his immense desk, eyes sharp to focus upon his visitor. "What's the matter?" his clipped voice echoes, sharp with suspicion.

Bazz B tones it down, takes a step closer, and sets eyes that meet Jugram's into what is almost a smirk. "I have news. She's in the human world."

Jugram's eyes narrowed, the calm of his features wavering for a fraction of a second, and "What did you just say?" came the dangerously soft contrary to the storm that was visibly brewing behind those eyes.

"Just as I said," cut in Bazz B as smooth as could, speaking. "She's managed to escape to the human world."

Jugram's fists curled so tightly that his fingers turned rigid, the knuckles white, and "Why would you allow this? Explain yourself."

Bazz B didn't even flinch, except for a flicker of humor across his eyes. "That was just a game," he assured, with a boast of nonchalance. "I figured it might be fun to see how she'd react with my position, and you know as much as I do: she can't really get away from you."

Maybe he just donned a guise of calm over the raging fury within, but Jugram's eyes turned the colour of polished steel. "Are you suggesting that this was just a ruse?"

And Bazz B nodded his head, his gaze locking onto Jugram's. "Right. More than a farce. I was just trying shit with her. But now she's out there; best be finding her before she starts sniffing too deeply."

His anger smoldered, but he kept his voice mild. "Very well. I will attend to her personally."

He sprang to his feet, with bright danger dancing in his eyes, and voiced the challenge. "Have things prepared for my absence. I will manage my way to find her yet, and make her realize in no uncertain terms exactly where her place is."

Bazz-B simply tipped his head fractionally to one side, that grin growing infuriatingly smug when he caught the flicker it caused in Jugram's own eyes. Well, it was always going to be touch and go, this situation on the brink, given the very nature of Jugram's obsession.

That hold shifting as Jugram squirmed from it, Bazz B rose and expanded before returning to his usual stride from the room, now having nothing on his mind other than the game. Then he leaned back just a bit further, and the faintest most content smile played at his lips. He knew Jugram's pursuit would be fanatic but, far from a game over, the match was only getting started.

Sunlight in the human world; a relief from the gloom that choked the palace. You staggered through the busy streets, the noisy city life an odd reminder of the liberty that had just been dangled in your face. Your heart was still beating with the remnants of leftover adrenaline from your escape, but a sliver of hope began to pierce through the fear that had gripped you for so long.

Wandering through an unknown cityscape, towering buildings over your head, people running from left to right from everywhere, every step liberating and exhausting at the same time. However, you wanted to find some help for yourself, looking for a hospital to get some medical care for you. The fact of your pregnancy and the urgency of your situation kept you moving forward, though uncertainty surrounded you.

You finally noticed a small café tucked away at one corner of the street. There was something about the whole setup that invited you, and you rushed inside frantically, really in need of help. The warmth inside was really contrasting to the icy coldness of the world outside. You went up to the counter where a young woman with a friendly smile addressed you.

"I am sorry," you said, with a tremor in your voice, "I need help; I am looking for a hospital. Can you tell me where it is?"

The woman's eyes widened with concern as her gaze took in the expression of horror etched on your features. "I can call a cab for you; a hospital is a few blocks ahead from here."

The first syllable—so soon, before she got any farther—a cold presence entered the room, and she looked up to find Jugram in the doorway, his face furious.

The woman's voice faltered as she noticed Jugram. "Who—"

Before another word could be dragged from him, Jugram surged up to his feet, a movement that spelled death. The air crackled with his presence, sleek, dark arms unfolding from under his coat. He brought the woman brutally into line with one blow that lacked mercy and brought laughter to a sharp stop. The body crumpled at his feet, and a shocked silence descended.

You were rooted to the ground, horror taking you fully. Jugram's eyes held you with a fiery look that sent your heart slamming hard in your chest. You were so frightened about what he might do next.

"No!" you cried, voice breaking. "Please, don't!"

Came forward towards you like a hunter, Jugram. "Did you think to sneak off so easily?" he asked; his voice was low and threatening. "You were mine, and you have nowhere to run."

Desperation lent you both strength and speed to turn and run, but he was quicker; his long, easily devoured strides ate the distance between you with apparent ease. He caught your arm in an iron grip, jerking you back toward him so hard it nearly knocked you off your balance. Your futile struggles were nothing against his impossible strength.

"No, let me go!" You wailed, tears streaming down your face. "Please, I don't want this!"

His look was cold, pitiless. "You are coming with me," he almost bluntly said, thereby filling all room for either words or refusal to talk.

You had tried to struggle, of course, but Jugram didn't give an inch. Outside, he pushed you against the wall of the café, where the lifeless body of the woman was still lying on the floor. A grim reminder; a high price for standing in his way.

You are brought back into the palace, its awe now hauntingly familiar beyond the rise of fear. The very grandeur that had once overawed you now felt like a gilded cage, the sense of entrapment ever heightened with each passing day. It was a life that felt both suffocating and inescapable; Jugram's relentless pursuit of control had come to fruition.

The walls would laugh with echoes, of your child's sounds, small footsteps that would be running all over the marble floors. Those cold hallways were softened by your whirling dervish of a child—that spirited toddler with a mop of soft hair over questioning eyes.

Jugram had clung to that illusion of a perfect family, had kept you and your child close to him, irrefutable proof of his power and control. For him, you were the trophy wife—the reason he had to keep a leash on himself, no matter what it did to you.

The days turned into the perfect but monotonous routine that you tried to keep up with in the palace to take care of your son and husband. An escape of dull shades from the once beautiful dream, from realization you are now living with the growing weight of your expectant second pregnancy.

Every single glance and every single touch from Jugram acted to remind him of the wearisome obsession that plagued his life—it was so manifestly normal yet completely tensioned with manipulation. Jugram always felt like a shadow, his undercurrents having to keep his feet always in your presence, reminding yourself of the power he held to your life.

One evening you sat laying out the nursery; you would soon be having your second baby. Jugram walked into the room. His eyes roving with every single move you made, showing critical satisfaction and a tone of possessiveness. He eyed you with something like passion, and the force of his stare was enough to make shivers of unease creep under your skin. The juxtaposition of Jugram's coldness of demeanor and the cham accents with the pastel nursery made an already-tenuous situation feel even more so.

"How's my good wife doing then?" he asked; even his voice felt terribly wrong, with just a shade of warmth and a lot of very direct control. He approached you deeply, and you felt the large hand go down to the slightly round belly. "And how is our little one doing?"

With an effort you smiled, and hollow it definitely was. "We're both doing fine," you said, and your voice was steady despite the storm inside.

Jugram's eyes softened just a hair, but the rest of his gaze lost no potency as he continued to bore into you with the fierce intensity, "I demand only the greatest from you," he told you, his voice steady but chillingly calm. "The appearance of perfection in our family. You do recognize this, do you not?"

You only nodded in resignation; there was no way to run away from what Jugram thought of you or from the existing circumstances. The palace was your imprisonment, and you were tied down by its chains of obsession.

As you turned away from the crib, about to withdraw, Jugram reached out and gently cupped your face—his touch achingly soft. "Remember, whatever happens, you are mine," he told you, not looking away. "Our family, our future—it's all connected. You and our children are my greatest accomplishments."

Certainly, something about the words- both gentle and forceful-had escaped notice. Entombed, indeed, felt you, though then it was a fate you had learned to accept; if enforced, to a degree, at least Jugram's will was not something that could change on a whim. The palace was a gilded cage; and you inside it, bound, lived a life composed of opulence and constraint, forever under his watchful gaze.

This was a beautiful, dark palace—the symbol of Jugram's clutching control and your inescapable fate.

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

m.list | bleach m.list | quincy m.list

taglist :: @jugramswifeyyy

[ipowlin]

So we all know that gem and pearl together is a force to be reckoned with. They have intimidated everyone on the server and rightfully so, they do not only have the bark but also a giant bite.

Now pearl. Pearl alone has so much potential.

She uses something that hinders her performance to her advantage, that thing is her ping.

She has the skill and strategy to solo half of the server if she went rabid again.

And that's the thing. She won't go rabid. She's kind and patient. Pearl has a potential that she couldn't show due to her loyalty and kindness.

Now you see, gem does not have a problem like that.

She's ruthless and blood thirsty whenever she feels like it. She is a leader, someone to look up to in a war. Gem brings the worst in pearl. She tells her things. She tells her to kill, to chase, to hunt. And pearl listens. She listens well.

Gem without pearl is like a warrior with nothing to fight with and for.

Pearl without gem is like a weapon without a wielder to protect and assist.

Gem knew. She knew that if she had gotten her hand on pearl she could rule the server alongside a witch with undying loyalty.

Pearl just wanted to be friends with gem because she was fun :3 she's silly like that

They've set plans, and strategies to defeat the enemy together. But before they know it, They've become each other's enemies.

Pearl asked gem

“gem. You don't want to do this, right…?”

And gem told her with a heavy heart. Knowing that there's no way that they could be together without betraying their day one alliances.

“No. I don't…”

gem ran away, feeling disappointed and betrayed as someone that promised to be her friend had attacked her without warning.

But before they could finish their conversation. A MASSIVE F[redacted]G C[redacted]T SHOT AT GEM. MAKING THEM FLEE. NICE JOB JOEL. (/Lh I love Joel beans)

And pearl, The weapon. Does what she does best and started to attack whoever her allies targets. Like a loyal wolf.

And being betrayed by pearl. That's something that happens once in a millenia.

She hid in her cherry peak as the mounders surrounded them. Gem sees pearl in the distance, stalking thought the forest to find a prey, and they locked eyes. Yet weirdly enough, none of them opened fire. Or even pulled out their bow.

They just shook their head at eachother as a symbol of peace and alliance. Friendship. Because that's what they were, they didn't want to kill eachother, they did not want to hurt one another. but their alliances. They forced them to do so. And they did, out of loyalty.

At that moment gem panics and jumped across the trees to tell both of them to stop shooting. But Scott just ignored her pleas and kept on going. Giving pearl no other option but to retaliate.

They stood their ground, looking at eachother with looks of pity before Scott pushed gem out of the way and shot at pearl. (GREAT JOB, SCOTT. 😡) She dodged before firing back at Scott.

Pearl told gem that she cannot stop what she is doing. But also that she does not have the heart to harm her either. She only wanted the Scotts.

Pearl went deeper into the inner walls of the scottages and was pummeled by arrows, yet she still presisted. impulse died without warning.

Shortly after she heard the yells of her allies and sprinted towards them. But she was too late for Scott and gem had killed them both.

Gem had thought. Maybe. Just maybe if she did not have her allies, she does not have her loyalty. And that she might join them.

Because gem knows that she could beat her. She knows that for a fact.

As she searched through the middle of the battlefield Scott ran up to her and started yelling at her to kill him. To take his heart and to not lose without a fight.

Without any other option she just did it. She stabbed him, gaining his hearts. And shortly after. Pearl came.

Not alone though, like she has hoped. She was with scar

Without any second though pearl shot at gem without mercy. Something that if un-character like of her. Pearl told her “dont make me do this, gem.”

I'm wich gem replied. Without sending her any arrows. “im not making you do anything! Why are you doing this.” as she ran away from them

Pearl chased after her. Though yelling “i don't know!”

Gem asked her “we’re friends! Why?!” and pearl repeated herself. “i don't know!!”

When they met again, pearl has not attacked gem. She tried to talk to her. To megotiate, anything that would mean not killing her. But before she could do that scar had jumped in and attacked gem again.

And what does a weapon do when given a target? They attack. So pearl ran in with her sword. And quite literally stabbed gem in the back.

Killing her.

Pearl got a wielder in the end. And it was not gem.

It was scar

[rahhhbananas]

✭ ✭ ✭ 𝐒𝐐𝐔𝐀𝐁𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐘 ✭ ✭ ✭ ft. dick grayson and koriand’r

prologue. Kori found you on an abandoned planet and takes you back to earth to meet her boyfriend, Dick Grayson. They sooner or later decide to adopt you.

warning(s). He/Him pronouns, Y/n is intended to be black-coded, but there is no real description of his appearance!

"Dad...?"

Y/n sat on the floor, nestled between Kori's legs as she tried to tame his unruly bed-head. Dick, engrossed in his phone, momentarily forgot about his new role as a father. However, he finally looked up and responded, "Yeah, bud?" Y/n grabbed onto his shorts, fidgeting with them for a while before blurting out, "Can I hang out with Uncle Damian for a while? Alfred said it was fine if I came over!"

Dick and Kori exchanged a knowing glance. "Are you sure about this, Bumgorf?" Kori asked as she finished braiding Y/n's hair, gently massaging his head to relieve any lingering discomfort.

"Yes! We promised not to get into any fights!" Y/n pleaded, locking his gaze with his adoptive parents and giving his best puppy eyes. Dick let out a heavy sigh before reluctantly agreeing, "Fine. But if I receive one call from Tim, telling me that you two are at it again, I won't hesitate to come pick you up." Y/n sprang up, eager to get ready for his "play-date," but not before giving his parents a heartfelt hug. Kori scooted closer to her boyfriend, tenderly caressing his shoulder as she remarked, "They're probably going to end up in another fight, you know..." Dick glanced back at his girlfriend, wearing a weary smile. "I know, but at least we'll have a few hours of silence. Hopefully."

The couple snuggled together, engrossed in watching a cringe-worthy 90s movie. Their blissful moment was interrupted by the sound of Dick's phone receiving a text message from Tim. Kori, with her head nestled against Dick's chest, muffled her voice as she inquired, "Is it Y/n?" Dick hummed in agreement, his eyes fixed on the screen. "He sent a video this time."

“Should we…pick him up?” The couple shared on last concerning glance “Nah, Damian’s been trained by The Batman, I’m sure he can hold up against a rabid alien child.” Dick shrugged his shoulders, his attention returning to the movie.

BONUS:

Timbo ☕️

Come get your kid!

If Damian flashes out I’m running…

Y/n can hiss!? 😨

DICK OMFG PLSS ANSWER ME

Timbo ☕️ sent a video attachment

Timbo ☕️

nvm Bruce stepped in 🤷

(read at 4:32)

[callofdudes]

ghost x fem or gn reader headcannons of a zombie apocalypse AU??? just them trying to survive with the rest of the 141<33

This tickles a little itch in my brain, might have gotten a little carried away 😊

Ghost x reader Zombie apocalypse headcanons

You'd think in a million years no one was ready for the apocalypse. Hell most people didn't even know how it started. But it did. Cities were crumbling, rabid monsters that followed their hunger for blood anywhere it took them.

You were one of few in the grand scheme to survive. Your parents, siblings, they weren't as lucky. You had been unable to protect them at all. Though after escaping and going on the run with some spares of clothing and your father's pistol in your pocket you were soon to become aware this was your new life.

It wasn't easy having to learn to hunt in one day or find all these tactics to remain silent, undetected, all of that.

You felt alone. So alone...

That is until one day, after having spent two days out in the wilderness with not a hint of prey around and you were starving. Walking through the woods up stumbled upon a camp. A fire was lit, a small pot strung by three bundles sticks above the flame, and something delicious boiling away.

Your curiosity and hunger got the best of you and you toed into the camp. A canopy set up of sorts and some old books that looked to have been torn for fire food.

You were about to look through a cooler under the canopy when you heard the sound of a gun above. "I wouldn't do that mate."

Your eyes snapped up, looking up at the tree tops to see... A man. A large man strung up in the tree by a rather thick rope. One used by professional rock climbers and such. Perfectly sat on a thick enough tree branch to hold his weight.

"I... Apologize... I wasn't trying to- I'm just hungry."

He scrutinized you, noticing the backpack and the possibility of a weapon on you. He flicked something on the hook of his rope and hopped off the branch like it was the back of a horse and slid gracefully back down the tree.

You noticed then his mask. A chilling thing. Considering you had been around zombies the last few years, that was saying something. And my dear he was tall.

"Hungry huh? Got a group?"

You could tell he was very excited to get you out of his little set up and didn't seem to want any meddling around with outsiders. People he didn't know. And in this day, hell you could understand and respect that.

"No... Do you?"

He didn't answer, and probably wouldn't answer most of your questions by the way he was acting. However, he didn't exactly push you away either. He was more waiting for you to get the hint through your thick skull and piss off.

And yet you didn't move.

"Look, I don't work with people, you don't want to be with me. So piss off." He finally grunted, checking whatever he had boiling away.

"Sir, I understand. But I'm hungry, I have no where to go and you look like you could be a good protective companion."

"We wouldn't be companions. Extra luggage is what I call it."

"I won't bug you I promise I'll be quiet, but.... Please??"

He rolled his eyes, tearing down the canopy of the set up and shoving it down into his large duffle back. "Fine. But if you piss me off I'm dumping you at the side of the woods alright??"

You nod, slowly sitting down by the stack of books, your stomach twisting and growling painfully. He looked at you, then his food. He sighed and pulled the pot off the small fire and doused it out, finding a small spare bowl and shoved it your way.

He was surprisingly lenient. Although he was telling the truth when he told you to shut up. He didn't want to talk to you and he clearly didn't trust any part of you one bit.

He allowed you to keep your gun and you stayed out of his way. And you tagged along for any scraps of the meals he would make. Even if he clearly was not the best chef in the woods.

This continued for upwards of three months. Not much changed. You learned his name, Ghost, and he pretty much knew yours from near the start of this expedition.

He was closed off, maybe from the fact zombies were a total 65% percent of the population mark up now. Maybe something else.

Eventually though, you made a small trip at a gas station. Ghost went in to search the place while you remained near the entrance, a meat shield should anything try to get through the door. How nice of him.

You stood by the door in waiting, your little pistol ready for any threat while Simon rummaged through food inside the store. It was dead quiet outside. Not a single sound.

You were waiting patiently until you heard a clatter from inside and a loud screech. You knew that all too well.

You ran inside, your pistol at the ready but Ghost had it covered, letting the thing tear into a chip bag and shot it in the back. And then he spotted you.

"I had that." You pouted.

"Sure you did tough stuff." Ghost roughly messed with your matted hair and you were off soon after.

You were pretty much just extra baggage to him for the most part. Though he fed you, bandaged you, cleaned your wounds and made sure you were always able to defend yourself.

"You solid?"

"I have two more clips. Take them, and use them sparingly."

"We don't have all day, we cross the river by dusk and then you can rest... don't make me carry you."

But slowly his belligerently tough nature gives way to care. Slowly here and there you can point it out. The extra glances, checking you in more spots than you say it hurts just to make sure you don't have a single scratch or bruise.

Giving you extra soup or food of whatever has been made. He's strong and healthy but will ration off, having less than two meals a day has become a normality, one at all was a blessing from God, so he'd give you what he could.

And then after his scouting trip was done, he brought you back home. Simon and his small group were all ex military. I say ex military because despite the weapons there isn't much of one anymore.

He brought you back to an old military base, a barbwire fence with a buzzer stretching high and all around the base keeping it secure.

Pressing the buzzer and announcing his presence the door was opened. "Don't worry... only two of them bite." Simon teases, shifting his gun behind his back as you come inside.

He walked into one of the main areas which lead down to the barracks. Inside were three people around a small campout, a fire pit of sorts made in the middle of the living room with ash and bricks.

"Son, you're back." An older man said, standing. "And whose this??" He watched you intensely, looking you up and down.

"This is my carry-on. Dragged them through the wastes with me."

He nods, walking over to shake your hand. "John Price. Glad to see you're well and safe under Simon's care."

So that's what his name was. Simon. A lovely name.

The next to greet you was a man with a ball cap on and stern brown eyes. Looking like he was far away in though. "Kyle Garrick. Welcome to our... bunker."

The last to greet you was surprisingly a little hesitant. Johnny was the least assumed to your presence. He was all for welcoming people but the current conditions has left too many dead or gone and no one trusted.

"John MacTavish... you can call me Soap though, so you don't get me and the captain confused."

And before you knew it you were given a room in the barracks and a place at your table. They were very nice people, they gave you a job, and split the resources and news Simon brought of his last months mapping. So much had changed since they'd last really gone outside.

Overtime you grew to understand how it all worked. Gaz was a bodyguard of sorts, when you needed to go outside to fix something, get some water to filter from a river not terribly far away, he would be there. He'd go short distances with you and the others, being their back and watching their six.

Soap was more of the tinkerer. He put together traps and levers and fixed up any weapons or gear that needed repairing. He called most of it Guerilla warfare.

Price was the leader, you could tell. He had everyone under his voice and what he says went. If there was something going on outside he'd be the first one out there to see if he could take care of it alone. He went out on food and water runs sometimes as well. He is also resident cook.

And Simon, he did a bit of everything from what you saw.

Soap had managed to get the power back up briefly in the base. Somewhere a power grid was still operational that the base connected to and he got the heaters working. Even on colder when you found yourself alone with a blanket around you, you weren't alone.

Simon would watch. His sleep schedule was still on night duty mode even if they were surrounded by brick and mortar.

He'd even sit with you sometimes. The more you came out to sit in the living room the more he'd be with you. Wrapping w second blanket around you or offering you his jacket.

It was small, but it meant something, to both of you.

Ghost eventually stopped letting you come with him into the wastes. After you got hurt badly, needing a tetanus shot they didn't have, Simon didn't let you go with him. He couldn't. Not because you were weak, you know why. He's just a big softy under all that muscle toned to harsh circumstance.

So you'd wait. By the window where you could see the gate, you'd wait until you could see him coming back. One night even passing out at the window when he returned, and he delivered you gently back to your bed, wrapping you in the blankets.

And after careful consideration, a gentle, small kiss on the forehead seared by the fabric of his mask.

Over the many months and then a year you lived with them you became family. You saw how they took care of each other. When Gaz got sick it was like bees back to the queen as they flurried to help him, and you did too.

He was weak, and you didn't want him to catch anything, so you would gently sit him up.

"Here Kyle, gentle."

Kyle winced in thank you as you fed him the soup Price had made.

You couldn't help but notice also how protective Simon was of them all. If Johnny didn't like the taste of the texture of something Price had made and would refuse to eat it, Simon would help.

"Johnny, you need to eat. Try and focus on me, not the texture. At least eat it." And Johnny usually would.

"Guys... I need to run outside really quickly, you think I could take one of you??" Kyle asked while Simon was already standing, grabbing his gun and escorting Kyle outside to watch over him.

Whenever Price was handing out assignments Simon would take the bulk of the work that had to do with being outside that gated fence. If there wasn't enough food for all of you Simon would cut back so you and Price would have enough.

He genuinely cares for all of you deeply under the mask.

The playful banter as you went out on scouting missions with him when you bugged him enough to let you go increased.

The affection he was willing to take and give like a hand on the shoulder or a hug. Sometimes even inviting you to wrap your arms around him and seek his warmth while laying under the cold stars in the sky.

Whispering to you on nights you couldn't sleep. He always took night watch, no exceptions. When you couldn't fall asleep he'd whisper to you. About random things. Maybe something he did the other day or what he remembered about the world before it went to shit and how beautiful it was.

"Simon..." you whispered back, holding onto his jacket. "I'm scared." You admit, tears filling your eyes as you thought of how you might die out here. This would be the end.

Simon brought you in a little tighter, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know y/n.... I know."

Simon was scared too. In his own way. Scared for himself, but scared for you, for his team. In the end Simon is a selfless creature and you all come before him.

Your breathing slowed, relaxing. Feeling safe and protected in his arms, because you were. Simon had you, he's always got you, and he always will.

Come zombies or raiders, or manic survivalists, anything. Simon won't let it hurt his team. He won't let them hurt you. Not you. He may not say it, but looking back, he's glad he met you that day in the woods...

I do hope this is satisfactory. I had started this a bit ago and came back to it after I posted my first zombie fic. Enjoy egg folk.

[darlingpwease]

I wound about Yandere omega Xue Yang (from Mdzs and lets just act like he have never die)

fufufu 'I love my omegas unhinged, intelligent and obsessive', mm~?

every dog needs a master

♡ unhealthy behaviour, animalistic behaviour, suggestive themes, dommale elements, intentionally dirtier and bloodier writing, mention of blood + killing + torture + metaphors with animals; manipulative!reader & morally grey!reader implied

♡ sex during mating season, rough sex, brat taming, breeding implied, blood play implied

ωα XUE YANG is the omega that you would never in your life think 'my future husband' at the first and subsequent meetings.

That he is evil, that his fate is bad, that he carries misfortune, that he is problematic, that you will definitely regret it — yes; but that he will become your omega? Never. Marriage and a marks is not just 'love' and mutual obligations; this is an inter-clan event where you make not just 'three bows', but radically change your whole life, especially with omega, in whose eyes there is always a shine that has nothing generative or innocent in it, but destroying and cursed.

You knew from the very beginning with whom you were linking fate and life.

That didn't stop you from digging nails into his waist when fangs left a binding mark on his clean neck.

Do you love him? Rather 'yes' than 'no' — no matter what, it's hard not to like him, even if someone finds your tastes strange, especially with this difference between you. But you carelessly say, 'well, what's wrong with my husband being wild, obnoxious, loud, vindictive, rabid, distrustful, unhinged, jealous, territorial, possessive and clingy? I love him, even if every omega and omega-like beta is afraid to approach me, including when he is not around!' — and what can anyone say to that if you already see perfectly well who your omega husband is?

In the end, you chose him no matter what; you responded to his advances and nursed him, you extended your hand to him, you allowed him to spend his heat with you and leave an itchy bite on your neck, which he is happy to update regularly.

To believe in 'kinship of souls' or 'destiny' is painful, even if this is clearly what XUE YANG is trying to tell you, smiling sweetly and making eyes at you, but your omega is so fascinating and pretty as murderous and jealous, as if all charm is outrage at the damage caused by the absence of any morality, — except that where you, like the owner, take him away and forbid.

It's even more surprising only when he agrees with you, snuggling up to your side, rubbing against you, leaving an aggressively territorial smell on your body and clothes, and promising that he won't do that anymore... At least you don't see any signs that he's doing it again. You don't believe in 'the power of love' or 'the power of kindness' — but when the leash is pulled, the dog goes; and even if "another case of how alpha tamed a rabid omega!", you're just smiling, not agreeing and not refuting. In the end, 'domestication' implies complete submission due to long and constant pressure, from which the animal becomes harmless and calm; but can you call your omega submissive and calm, and, moreover, 'harmless'?

You can't even call him 'not dangerous', let alone 'harmless' for interacting with anyone — but you don't need it; watchdogs should be aggressive and cruel, and since your sweet smiling husband behaves with you as with the greatest jewel, which anyone can't talk about if a person wants to stay with their eyes, and a long conversation with who will only lead to cutting off the tongue, then you are more than ready to accept and show understanding, like a pure celestial seeking to cleanse a vicious soul from a dark sediment, showing the wild omega the charm of being a delicate flower for his alpha.

... Who is safer to leave puppies with? Who to rely on if hard times come? Who will be better able to serve you arrows during the attack, follow you during the escape and handle your wounds after the battle?

Of course, you could have chosen a meek and gentle omega, with whom you would be safe and calm while they dutifully served you — but you were chosen by the most aggressive and desperate omega, promising to be the most perfect for you (even if he had to kill all the others so that you had no choice), and you chose him — voluntarily.

And this is important.

The dog chooses the only owner, entrusting his life and future to them, but it is the owner who chooses what to do with the dog. Never the other way around. And if you don't want the dog to cling to your throat and chew through your chest, then you have to hold it so tightly that it can't even move.

“I won't let you go.”

It's mutual.

ωα XUE YANG is very jealous — and possessive. Your scent is always on his body as well as his on you; to the extent that others no longer remember which of the two of you smells. XUE YANG doesn't care how vulgar it may look when the mixture of his and your fragrance doesn't leave body, especially if your fragrance is something 'atypical' and causes a certain reaction among omegas and alphas — he wears it as an achievement, as a trophy that has traces all over his body; starting from kisses and hickeys and ending with bruises and scratches — he is untamed, but you are ready to make attempts to refute this, treating him like a wild dog who does not want to understand where his place is, even knowing that he will never really stop trying to get out of these boundaries and will regularly try to bite through the leash to attack and feast on you.

The relationship with him does not have any definite 'end' on the scale of progress, where you can finally relax, knowing that he will not break out anymore — and if you kept him from escaping, it would be much easier, but to keep him from not trying to own you and be the only one who is in your life is much more difficult and problematic. XUE YANG has no 'moral boundaries' — life has taught him that — and knows that what he has will not necessarily be his forever.

He can't let anyone else have you.

And when his sharp fangs playfully bite you just to lick right away, you can only wind his hair around your fist, letting him feel that you are always ready to push him away as soon as he crosses the border and causes pain.

A few demonstrations are enough for him to learn at least this — even if you can freely bite his neck and shoulders until they bleed, especially when you press him firmly against the bed, wall or floor, leaving a mark on his neck, from which small drops flow down, although you can understand from the trembling in his body that his more what suits it, even if he continues to tease tease tease

ωα XUE YANG used to rely on the smell. In a world where any fragrance has a meaning and a source, and there is nothing 'superfluous', his sense of smell has always been especially sharp and tenacious, catching even those notes that others are unable to catch.

"Intuition" says someone; "stinks" echoes XUE YANG hoarsely when he feels someone else's smell on your body, even if he just entered the room smelling of incense after you took a bath. You don't know how he does it — it's like his nose is even more sensitive, but not at all the way people think; he does not need to feel a literal smell, he feels something even more subtle, as if there is something else in someone else's fragrance that touches his receptors and finds a response in his body and brain.

The whole world is a huge garbage dump for him, the stench in which is unbearable, no matter if he is in a slum or in some noble society where they take a bath three times a day — and you?

You smell like the cleanest and most desirable thing in the world.

It would not be an exaggeration to say that it was your smell that blew his head off, because you smell so animal-like; not like a stray mutt or a street cat smells, but something that triggers something primal and natural in him, making everything inside him want to plunge into you, get under the skin and stay forever.

When the bottom of his stomach almost painfully pulls, although his heat is still a few weeks away, XUE YANG knows that you are somewhere nearby, even if he does not see you — body reacts to you with the most animal and irresistible impulse, and the fact that you seem so pure and unattainable makes him frantically try to become more worthy and to get higher, to become much better, much more decent — to get to you and bite into your neck, pulling you down after him.

When a cat climbs up a tree after a bird, it doesn't do it to fly like a bird does.

And when he presses against you again and again, inhaling your scent, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing tightly, you are sure that with the same success in his understanding you could be a half-dead mouse in the hands of a well-fed cat, over which the cat carefully puts sharp teeth, preparing to gnaw through the skin and leave a bleeding trail that does not a few more days will pass — his cute fangs are as sharp as a razor.

... Of course, XUE YANG doesn't consider you that way — especially when you hold tightly by the throat to the bed, almost suffocating him, looking down not with arrogance, but with authority, which at the same time makes him want to purr and obey and at the same time try to scratch your skin and make you look up at him.

Bad omega.

“Oh, really? I thought you liked this one, since you reek of some bitch again.”

... Xue Yang loves — adores — your scent and is ready to live forever surrounded only by it, taking your clothes and climbing into your arms.

But because of this, those moments when you smell of someone else excite in him the thirst for blood and possessive aspirations even more.

ωα XUE YANG doesn't build many nests before you start living together as spouses — in the end, he slept in your room much more often and returned to himself only if you insisted that you did not want even more rumors and damage to his reputation (as if the fact that he regularly flirts with you and behaves like a sunny arrogant spoiled darling while for everyone else he is a cruel heartless bully is not sufficient proof of his frank and shameless adoration) or yours (although here you are also sure that no omega will dare to take care of you after XUE YANG openly showed what will happen to the one who decides), but he obeys just to say capriciously the next morning that he doesn't want to go anywhere, teasing you.

But after you become a couple? Your whole room is filled with nests — your bed is one huge nest, in which he weaves around you like a vine around a strong tree, not letting go a millimeter from his strong embrace.

(Where are you going? To other omegas?)

Your clothes regularly turn out to be a building material, which is why you have to go to tricks and take away from his oldest nests — and although you are sure that this is nothing more than another of his tricks, especially when a hand is abruptly stretched out from there and drags you inside with a rather snide purr, you soon get used to it.

Even if you are more than aware of all his shortcomings, you cannot deny that the sight of him taking the form of a ball, wrapping around you like an affectionate cat, makes you want to stroke him and bask, ignoring the sharp claws and cunning glint in his eyes.

He is your husband, after all, and you have to take responsibility for him, even if sometimes he smells of blood much stronger than he should — but you are also working on this.

Or use it — in any case, you mostly accept it as it is.

ωα His heat is short, but strong, and if earlier you thought that he was wild, then during the estrus your main problem is to keep him under control and make sure that the claws and fangs are only where you are ready to have bruises, scratches and bites later.

And XUE YANG prefers the same way — wildly and rudely, so that the imprint of your hands remains around his neck while you force him to obey, pointing him to his place; and although in his normal state he is sensitive to the topic of whether they look at him from top to bottom, from bottom to top or as an equal, during the heat he does not mind at all that you do not give him any attempts to change his position — if you do not want to end up with a scratched chest, feel hot tongue licking drops of blood while he presses you firmly to the bottom of the nest, growling gutturally like a wild animal, while his claws dig into your skin, leaving marks.

He is more than in connection with his animal side and his ego is closer to the ego of a wild street dog, who is used to constantly checking his status and growling in attempts to change his position, even knowing that in response you can easily force him back to a state of submission — and from that, sharp fangs dig into the skin greedily and desperately, satisfying the desire to get enough of you before you have time to take away this intoxicating feeling, even if nothing prevents you from simultaneously indulging his desire to feel the right to have you and at the same time not giving him control, which, you know, will only lead to even more destructive things, since XUE YANG will never be satisfied until you are completely at his mercy — in such a right of possession in which the living cannot be.

... When you gently kiss his forehead, letting him lie calmly in front of you, receptive and defenseless, showing you his most vulnerable moments, giving himself completely to your hands and desires while his body is gently filled, finding pleasure in all-consuming hugs and touches, trustingly rubbing his nose against your neck or cheek, wrapping weak arms around your neck — for the first time, he can finally relax, entrusting himself and a sense of control to you, even knowing the risk he is taking.

And you know that this is your real husband, whom you married just for the sake of such moments.

[ddejavvu]

idk if you’re still doing fairy!reader stuff but if you are: fairy!reader bringing a raccoon into the trailer (a la Linda Belcher) and Eddie’s just like “ok I love you and he’s adorable but prince jeremy marshmallows should probably go back outside”

today is multiverse monday, send me any au you can think of! :)

--

Eddie's not often speechless when he walks through the door of his trailer, he's usually the one inducing the shock in others. But today it's you that's disrupted the balance of the Munson household, by introducing its newest, furriest member.

He wishes you're sitting on his couch with a dog. He wishes you'd led a stray cat in from the rain. But the animal you're sitting with is grey and black, with stripes of white here and there along its dirty fur. It's chubby, it's tail is draped over the edge of the couch, and it's a fucking raccoon.

You grin up at Eddie, because of course you don't see anything wrong with it. Before he'd swooped you up and made you a bed out of his underwear drawer you'd probably ridden a nearby deer to some sort of fairy farmer's market to stock up on glitter for the week. There's no reason for you to think of raccoons as humans do, so you're a little but confused by Eddie's full stop in the doorway.

"Hi, Eddie," You gush, "This is Jeremy!"

"Jeremy," He muses, watching the raccoon chitter and crawl towards your lap to reach the bag of marshmallows you've raided from the pantry, "You- uh, he likes marshmallows?"

"That's his last name," You hand the raccoon his treat, looking up at Eddie like you're viewing him matter-of-factly over the thick lenses of glasses, "Jeremy Marshmallows."

"Jeremy Marshmallows," He repeats, a little more relaxed as he leans into the doorframe. The animal doesn't seem rabid, just hungry, and he's more interested in munching on the treat between his paws than lunging for Eddie's ankles.

"Well, Mr. Marshmallows," Eddie clears his throat after the racoon's finished his treat, "Uh, hate to be a bad host, but you've gotta head out."

"But he's my friend," You frown, your brows scrunched, "I thought he could live here with us."

"No honey," He tries not to sound patronizing, but it really is a basic concept you need to learn, "You can live here because you don't have fleas. And I can leave you alone without worrying you'll chew through the wall. Raccoons aren't the same."

"But he's my friend," You reiterate, like maybe Eddie just didn't hear you the first time, "And I want him to stay."

"He can stay in the neighborhood," He compromises, watching Jeremy pick another marshmallow from the bag, "But he can't come into the trailer anymore. We'll make him a home, 'kay? Wayne can bring home some scrap wood from work, and I'll make him a real nice little bed. But he has to stay outside."

"He might get cold," You worry, and Eddie holds out a hand, asking for one of the marshmallows. You hand it to him, but he doesn't eat it, as you expect, he holds it up for Jeremy to see.

"He won't get cold, we'll give him a blanket," Eddie promises, "Here, dude. Come on, I know you want this, I'm gonna toss it outside for you. Okay?"

As soon as the animal locks its eyes onto the treat, Eddie chucks it out the door. He hasn't calculated that Jeremy will have to scramble over his feet to exit the trailer, so he does a little jump-and-squeal combo that he's not exactly proud of, but when the raccoon is safely outside, he shuts the door.

"Okay," He huffs, heart rate safely lowered now, "Uh- he didn't shit in here, did he?"

"No," You scowl, "He's not a pig. I hope he's okay."

You flutter beside Eddie's head to peer out the door, and Jeremy has planted himself in the grass just outside the trailer door. He's nibbling on the marshmallow Eddie had thrown, but the man suspects he'll be bored of waiting for more within the hour. That or he'll gnaw through the floor and Wayne will get a surprise in the shower tomorrow.

"He'll be alright, sweetheart," Eddie angles his shoulder towards you, happy when you take the invitation to flutter onto it and sit against his neck, "He's lived out there his whole life; he'll survive. And when we make him his bed, we'll put lots of marshmallows in there for him, okay?"

"Okay," You sigh, leaning your head against his cheek. He nestles into you the best he can without toppling you over, and turns to look over the half-empty bag of marshmallows you'd been feasting on.

"Well, I think we're doing pizza tonight," Eddie muses, "Wayne took the last of the lasagna to work, and those were gonna be dinner."

[shiyorin]

The Imperium Shelter

Adoption Poster: Angron

Name: Angron (he refuses to answer to anything else)

Species: Primarch

Breed: World Eater

Age: Approximately 3 weeks (though he's been through a lot, so his physiology has aged faster than average.)

Background: Found this one half-starved and raging in the pits of Nuceria. Covered in scars and barking about some nonsense. Took a lot of tranquilizers just to get him home in one piece, let me tell you! His previous "owners" clearly abused him. Poor boy. Or so I suppose…

Anyway, we rescued Angron and have been rehabilitating him through positive reinforcement techniques (definitely no mood-altering neurotransmitter adjustments used, no sir!). No wonder he developed some, er, behavior issues. But with plenty of tender loving care and training, I'm sure he'll learn to curb those homicidal tendencies. I mean, normal primarch tendencies!

Personality: Angry would be an understatement. This one is pure rage walking! Snarls and lunges at anything that moves, frothing at the mouth like some rabid animals. Absolutely no social skills, nearly took my hand off just for trying to give him a treat! I'd be wary leaving small children unsupervised around him, if you catch my drift. Let's just say he takes "aggressive" to a whole new level.

But give him a chance to warm up to you, earn his trust, and I'm sure he'll calm down! Sure, he may try to bite your face off at first, but I promise once he gets used to you he'll stop seeing every interaction as a threat or challenge. Might take a few… I mean, a lot of training sessions. But he means well deep down, the poor dear just wants to be loved!

Skills: Surprisingly dexterous for one so enraged. Could probably handle advanced weaponry or driving vehicles if provoked, so keep an eye on the car keys for sure. He already knows basic commands like "attack," "kill," "Skull for the Skull Throne!" No, strike that, I have no idea where that came from! He's a quick learner regardless. Also seems preternaturally strong, literally ripped the bars off his cage on the first night! And could wrestle a grown man to the ground, break his spine with a chomp. Of course, he would never do that!

In summary, Angron is one angry boy with a lot of special needs. Strict owner only, with experience handling extreme cases. Lots of patience, training and muzzles required. Adoption not recommended for the faint of heart! But who could resist that underbite… He just needs the right home to reach his true potential as a war machine! I mean, loyal primarch. Who's a good boy?!

Signed,

The Emperor

(Angron tries to bite his hand as he says that last part)

Comments from the employees:

M*******: I wouldn't recommend adopting Angron. He tried to bite my arm off during feeding time.

Big E: Nonsense Malcador, I'm sure you were provoking him. Angron just wants love, you'll do fine!

V*****: With respect sir, Angron is dangerously unstable. He killed three of our security measures. Even with sedatives he's too risky. Perhaps a more seasoned professional handler could manage him, if anyone can.

Big E: Quit scaring people Valdor, he was just playing! Weren't you boy? Angron foams rabidly See, happy as a clam. Next!

O*******: I understand the desire to rehabilitate him sir, but adopting out Angron could endanger lives. For the safety of the public and his own well-being, long term confinement and treatment seem best.

Big E: No Ollanius. Angron just wants someone to show him love. I'm sure with the right owner he'll come around, won't you boy? Angron bites his pants leg Down boy! So what do you say, is he yours?

[animentality]

this might be a little bit dark? but im lowkey interested in a reversal of the pre-brain damage durge promising to kill gortash in the end and gortash taking comfort in that, with a post-brain damage redemption-path durge who is tired of fighting, tired of wading through their broken empty brain, tired of accidentally hurting people, and who doesn't feel strong enough to resist bhaal, going to gortash's office in wyrms rock alone to purposefully goad him into killing them.

cause at this point they think their death is the only way they'll be free of bhaal, and they just want it to be over. and they might not remember gortash, but if they could at least die by the hand of someone (maybe the only one) who actually knew the real them from before their incident, well. that would be a lot nicer than letting orin hack them up or something.

(as for whether or not gortash notices that durge is not really fighting back? would he stop the battle if he suspected there was more to durge's "betrayal" than it seemed? would he shrug off their lack of fight as a symptom of their brain damage and see it through anyway? hmm)

what if i kill myself then what, anon

you've poisoned my brain, anon, thanks! THANKS A LOT.

Brain damage for Christmas...

Fuck.

That's such delicious angst, I could gnaw on its bones for years. Just the idea of the Dark Urge giving up...because they can't atone, and they can't forgive themselves, and they don't think they deserve to be alive anymore, but they won't just let themselves die at the hands of Orin, because she doesn't get that reward, for betraying them...

But Gortash? The first man who thought of them as something more than a rabid beast to be put down? Who saw them as a person, admired them, maybe loved them?

Death at his hands would be appropriate. It might even be comforting. They had promised they would kill him, in another life. It would only be fair, for him to kill them now.

Save himself, from them, right?

As in game...well.

You can't save him from yourself.

ARGH, and if Gortash thought you might be letting him kill you...well.

Truthfully, I suppose, he might just take advantage. Remove you as a threat and not question why you've allowed him to.

But since we serve nothing but delusions in the house of durgetash...

I want to believe that he'd notice immediately, and be furious.

Like fight back.

Why aren't you fighting back?

What's happened to you?

I will not fight you like this. I won't let it end like this.

You are too important to me, to simply slaughter like a dog, you're not Orin. Tell me what's wrong.

And then it becomes a pre-murder therapy session, where he tries to convince you to kill him wholeheartedly... get your mojo back, Durgy.

Heh heh.

But seriously.

Oh, this angst...is delicious.

I'm chewing on the bones, anon, I love this. I LOVE it.

[kvthgok]

I LOVE YOUR FICS SO MUCH THEY’RE SO GOOD😭❤️ I was wondering if you could write about father figure Miguel O’Hara x young teen!Spider!Reader cuddles because I absolutely love him and need to be held by him before he goes absolutely rabid and try’s to attack Miles💀❤️❤️❤️❤️

Safe With Him | Miguel O'Hara x Young Teen!Spider!Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- none

Summary- Miguel is a father figure to you! You had a lash out episode and Miguel cuddled with you while calming down.

Side note- Ommggg literally thank youuuu soo sooo much 😭🫶! Also not proofread cuz I'm lazy 💪

Miguel is like a father to you. He'd treat you like his own daughter. However in the past two weeks Miguel noticed that you've looked super stressed out, sometimes having lash out episodes.

You couldn’t even focus when training. Until he saw you having an episode. "Hey, calm down.." he said in a concerned tone. Miguel has never seen me actually have an episode. It was the others that would see me, they would tell him.

I ignored him, still being mad at was upsetting me.

Miguel was concerned, "Hey, come sit down." He tried to get me to calm down and to sit down.

I was so mad in the moment that I didn't even hear him.

Miguel grabbed my shoulders and got me to face him. Miguel had a stern expression on. He said in a stern tone, "Hey, calm down. Stop being so hard on yourself. Look at me."I shook my head no, not making eye contact, my nostrils were flared.

Miguel was getting even more concerned with me. He’s never seen me like this. Miguel's tone turned from stern, to more of a concerned and worried tone. He said, "Hey, please. Look at me." I could tell he was worried for me, and wanted to help me. I looked at him. He could still see that I was clearly mad but not as much anymore. Miguel saw my eyes were full of sadness

Miguel felt a little better, with knowing I wasn't as mad as before. He could tell that I looked sad. Miguel said to me, "Please come sit down. I don't like seeing you like this." He really didn't like seeing me upset, and I could tell. He didn't want me to look sad, and to be upset. He said to me, "Please come sit down. I don't like seeing you like this." I started to move toward him, so I can sit down and talk to Miguel.

Sitting down with Miguel, Miguel looks at me with a concerned face. He says to me, "What's going on? You've looked stressed these past two weeks."

He noticed that I stayed silent, and that there's something wrong. With how I was acting.

"Please tell me. I want to help with whatever is wrong."

I shook my head no.

Miguel didn't want to push me to talk, if I didn't want to. He didn't want to make me upset again. My episodes were happening too often , he didn't want me to have another one. Miguel's first priority was making sure I was okay.

He moved some my hair strands from my face.

He told me, in a quiet but sweet tone, "It's okay. I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you."

I broke down crying hugged him.

Crying, I hugged him tightly. My episodes didn't bother Miguel, even though he didn’t understand what I was going through right now. He hugged me back tightly, telling me, "It's okay. You're safe with me."

Miguel kept me in a tight hug. He was so comforting and caring. He said in an understanding tone, "I don't mind at all. You're safe with me. Let it out. I promise that I won't leave. "

After a few minutes you could hear my sniffles I looked exhausted.

Miguel didn't try to make me talk. He let me be if I didn't want to. He still was hugging me, and now I was calm.

He noticed how exhausted I was, as he could hear me sniffling. He still kept me in a tight hug, comforting me. He suggested to go to a extra bedroom and get some rest. Telling how exhausted I was after my episode.

Miguel walked me to the room.

"Rest for now. I'll come check up on you after I finish some stuff." He wanted to make sure I get some rest after everything that happened.

I grabbed his arm, "Can you stay with me.." I said in a quiet voice.

Miguel stopped and turned to look down at me. He heard what I said. He knew how drained I was. Miguel was glad that I asked him that.

Miguel said in a loving tone, "Of course I can."

He was glad that I asked him to stay with me, even if I didn't tell him what was wrong with me.

Miguel walked me inside the room, and sat down next to me. Miguel wrapped his arms around me, and stayed with me.

With me being in Miguel arms, I felt at ease, and at peace.

I felt Safe With Him.