#Invincible x ofc

[thesoggyraincloud]

Treasonous

Omni-Man ( Nolan Greyson) x OFC / Cecil Stedman x OFC (Platonic)

Oneshot- What if a rebellious half Viltrumite arrived on earth?

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He's coming

The relentless onslaught of wind and rain slashed across her skin, drowned out only by the roaring sound thundering through her head. Desperately reaching out for anything solid, her flailing arms threw her off balance, sending her into an uncontrollable spin. A scream cutting into the vast unknown as she was thrown in circles, sending blood rushing through her skull. Agony re-awaked in her chest at the force of entry on the small planet, quickly subduing to panic and fear.

Gripping desperatly onto control, her eyes wildly searching for the impending ground. The air ripped at her hair, sending her hair in a flurry and blocking her vision. Her stomch flipped, her jaw gritting down to stop her vomiting. Buildings materialized from the gray haze inch by inch as she spun towards land, attempting to vear towards the moonlit river. Until...

SMASH.

She hated proving herself right sometimes.

Forcing the last of her energy into keeping herself afloat aganst gravity pulled, energy she didnt have to spare in her weakened state. Tension in her stomach muscles flexed around at the metal lodged in her side. She vomited red blood. Splattering it over her stained sleeve.

“I’ll fucking kill you, Tiran!” Her voice, hoarse and barely audible above the raging storm, echoed into the abyss.

“You need to come home,” The sound cut through the tempest, sending a renewed ache through her side.

“I will not!” Her voice screamed, fear repleninshing her lost energy. She threw herself backward into him with a sick thud.

Slamming her head into his jaw, she grasped at him desperately, pulling his bloody arm into her grip and twisting it with all her might. Flesh pulling and spewing through her long fingers. She felt tendons give way, muscle tearing from bone. The force sent him backward, leaving his dead arm in her hand, cartilage lodged into her fingers from the pressure she gripped it with.

He faced her, the hole in his shoulder trickling blood down into the abyss. And in that moment he was like any other being from any other world. Weak, vulnerable and maybe for the first time in her life an equal. A body made of blood and meat, susceptible to being torn apart. Years of instinct, of preditory history, training and violence siezed her body in apprehention.

“You. Will. Come. Home,” Tiran gasped out, straghtening himself up. Flying closer toward her with each word.

The two colliding in a fury. He ripped at her side like a rapid dog, widening the gaping hole in her chest until his fingers gripped the piece of metal debris.

She screamed, arching away from his grip, stabbing him with the exposed bone of his departed arm. Undeterred, he pushed the metal further, ripping through her lungs, stealing her breath.

The bloodied woman freed her twisted arm from its usless defense against his assult, allowing him to continue his massacre unrestained. They grappled in a gory embrace, giving her the opportunity to free his severed arm of its flesh, degloving it in a swift motion.

Distracted with beating her breaking body, he didn't seem to notice her lift the makeshift weapon into the air. His eyes glazing over before any realization what she had done, the bone already launched deep inside his ear, reaching the brain with a small pop and release as it broke through the skull. His weight went limp in her hands, and she pushed them togther, feeling his head pop and crack under the pressure, before giving way in a wet slap. Only She let him fall, watching his body land in a broken heap on the concrete, concaving it under him.

The sight made her feel warm, humming in approval at the victory. Attempting to breathe back in, she filled her lungs with blood, a sensation of steel sinking into her chest. It weighed her down until she found herself falling once again, following her dead companion to the ground.

------------------

"Jesus fucking Christ."

Cecil had just arrived home. A dead alien and another on the brink of death was not part of his evening plans today, but certainly not unusual interruption in his line of work.

"Sir, there's more." Donald's voice wavered, the silence filtering through the background noises of agents bustling about.

"What is it?"

"It's awake, sir."

Cecil didnt wait any longer, slamming his hand down on the watch wrapped around his wrist. Teleporting to Donald in a snap of light before the sentence concluded. Perhaps tonight might be worth leaving the ‘comfort’ of his home. 

"Have we contacted The Guardians?" He shouldve asked on the phone, God knows they took their damn time.

Donald acknowledged the taller man as he approached, both looking into the fortified room containing the mysterious extraterrestrial. Nurses and doctors filtered in and out, covered in the beings blood. 

"I'm not sure we need to."

Cecil noted the unease in the mans demeanour, motioning for him to continue.

"It says it came here for protection. She wants to speak to Nolan."

Cecil looked up, these kind of nights kept this job fun he mused, plus he liked a mystery.

"How does she know who Nolan is?" He placed a hand to his face in mock annoyance, each question bringing more uncertainty.

"She won't answer. Well except to say she's not here to hurt anyone. And that she insists on speaking only to Nolan." Cecil nodded; the entire facility was bugged. Nevertheless, it was an intriguing request.

"Get him on the line. Now."

------

A/n: I've never done anything for this fandom before but I just rewatched watched the show and oh my fuck I cannot believe it took me so long to find it. I watched a 7 hour youtube video deep dive on the comic book lore recently and its only feeding my obsession so enjoy the result of this brainrot.

[aphroditesmoon]

heyy for the clarisse head cannons, maybe a enemies to lovers w clarisse

enemies to lovers hcs with clarisse

clarisse la rue x fem!reader

warnings: fighting, mild violence, kissing.

- I feel like you would probably be in athena cabin or hermes, (or whichever ur prefer)

- clarisse has a lot of people who hate her, but no one brave enough to challenge he, until she met you.

- the two of you match eachother's skills, and it's frustrating for clarisse to admit that you're actually good.

- "you really think you're all that, don't you?"

- "of course not, we both know no ones better than you, clarisse."

- you probably meant it literally, but everyone watching laughs anyway.

- everytime you spar with her, its not because you want to humiliate her but simply because you're intrigued by clarisse.

she was an angry, violent girl, and you wondered deep down if that was the only side of her that existed.

- she doesn't know that ofc.

- she thinks everytime you try to be funny or nice to her, you're just being patronizing.

- for example, when you tell her she's not that bad or try to help her up after you win she's sure that you meant it in a mocking way.

- that was until she got beef with the new kid percy jackson and he broke her spear 💀

- when you found her alone in the ares cabin while everyone's eating dinner, you tried to comfort her. she doesn't appreciate the notion.

- "you shouldn't have went after him, clarisse." you told her.

- "how was I supposed to know he was a son of the big three?" she snapped back, refusing to look anywhere else but atnthe spear.

- the cabin was sileny for a moment before yoi spoke again, "maybe you could give it over to the haphaestus kids, they could fix it."

- "this is a magical spear, not a normal one." she answers back.

- she assumed you came to gloat, to tell her she deserved it, to call her a bully like everyone else did, but she was weirdly comforted by your presence instead. she didn't have to lie or pretend to be strong in front of you, something she learned of after a few months in of sparring with you is that you wouldn't hit someone during their weakest.

- "I remember the first gift my mom/dad gave me when I first got here. a knife, It meant so much to me, but I didn't know that it wasn't invincible, I broke it while trying to pull it out of a tree after I accidentally staked it into."

- clarisse was quiet for a moment before turning to you with a frown and said: "that's so stupid."

- you smiled at her and nodded your head. "yeah it was." she smiled back at you and shook her head. "I can't believe thats the same person who beat my ass last week."

- your eyes widened. "I can't believe you're actually admitting that I've beat your ass." she scoffed at that.

- "how did it end up in the tree anyways?" She asked. you blinked for a few times and reluctantly responded, "I tried to carve my name onto the tree." you could tell clarisse was so baffled by it that she wanted to laugh, but instead she just stared at you with her mouth wide open.

- "thats-" "stupid, yeah, you already said that."

- "carving your name on a tree? really? what, were you 10 years old or something?"

- you were 10. "I was 10 actually." "oh." her face relaxed, all of it finally making sense.

- "anyways, what I mean is, at least your spear went out in a fight. I'm sure your father must be really proud of you."

- clarisse looked away immediately, as if the idea of her father at all, hurted her.

- "you know nothing about my father."

- you shrugged and sat next to her on her bed. "I don't, but I know you. and I'd say you did pretty damn well.".

- you expected her to snap at you again, that was her thing, confronted by kindness or any kind of empathy, fight or flight. but instead she smiled sadly at you. "you think so?"

- you answered yes and inched closer to her. "everyone at camp is either scared of you, or they respect you. that respect didn't come out of nowhere."

- clarisse nodded her head, staring back down at the spear on her lap. "do you really think they can fix it?"

- "it's worth a try." you told her.

- the next time you see her was the following day after she and the other cabin leaders were gathered together for Percy to choose for his quest.

- you noticed she still tries ti act cold with you, but she was less meaner than before.

- "chiron gathered the best of the best to join the quest." she had told you when you asked her where she went.

- "and he asked you to be there?"

- "what, you don't think im good all of the sudden?" she asks, glaring at you.

- you rolled your eyes at her. "I know you're good, but I also know that you tried to kill Percy yesterday, not exactly team spirit is it?"

- she considered it for a moment and shrugged. "who cares, at least that punk will be gone for a while. everything can go back to normal." you follow her as she walked out of the cabin with a normal spear.

- "normal as in?"

- "normal as in, I'm going to kick your ass."

- the two of you sparred for an hour and a half, you wont say that you were holding back today, but you weren't exactly giving her your all. you liked to see the eay she smiled everytime she won, even if it was annoyingly smug.

- that same night, rumors were going around that clarisse was going soft. breaking her infamous spear, befriending her nemesis.

- "we're not friends," she told her cabin siblings. "It's not my fault she's obsessed with me."

- when word got out about what she said, you decided that maybe trying to get to know clarisse was a bad idea. not really being the confrontational kind of person, you just stopped talkiing to her.

- it was a few days later when she went out of her way to find you. all the cabins were in disarray. they were all choosing sides between zeus and poseidon after the news broke that the two powerful gods we're against eachother.

- uncharacteristically, clarisse aided with poseidon. she weighed her choices as cabin leader and daughter of ares and decided it was the best option

- (if you're a daughter of athena) then, you sided with zeus. athena is known to having feud with the god poseidon, and you would side your mother.

- (if you're in the other cabins), then you just use the feud as an excuse to not talk to her, claiming that all kinds of provocative interaction should be kept om a liminal time.

- clarisse found you in the bathroom and tried to get you to listen to her.

- "you're saying that this feud bothers you so much that you've just completely stopped talking to me?"

- "I think, that I'd like to stop being so obsessed with you, considering it was you who said that you wanted me out of your hair."

- she chased after you as you walked out of the bathroom and pulled you to the side.

- " I didn't mean it that way." she was lying and you both knew that.

- "you know what your problem is clarisse? you care so much of what other people think of you, what their perception of you is like. people who wouldn't blink twice if you were in danger. but what about the people who do care about you? the people who want to keep caring about you?"

- your words caught her off guard, she knew it was her fault but she didn't think as far as you had said.

- "I care about you too." she says honestly.

- "you don't hurt people you care about." and she knew that. she knew what it felt like to be scorned and hated by the person you love. and clarisse la rue, will not be like her father.

- "give me one chance to make it up to you, let us start over again." she pleaded.

- you might resent her for what she had done, but that doesn't mean you're immune to her wishes. "one chance."

- "one chance." she agreed.

- the next day, while everyone was out practising, she finda you helping a younger girl in your camp with her stance in fighting and called you to the side.

- "I got something for you." she said.

- the two of you walked a bit further away from other people but she stopped and pull out something from her pocket.

- "the haphaestus kids couldn't fix my spear, but I did get them to work out something new for you."

- it was a knife, similar to your old on2, but the engraved heart shape on the black holder was different. The holder was made if rubbee, easier to grip, and the tip was sharper than anything you've seen.

- "this is for me?" she nodded and placed it into your right palm.

- "it's not magical, but it'll be useful."

- you did not hesitate to pull her by the back of her head to lean down and meet your lips halfway.

- and she did not hesitate to wrap her own arms around your nwck and waist to kiss you back just as strongly.

- "I'm gonna get laughed at for this aren't I?" she muttered against your lips as she pulls away slightly.

- "not something you can't handle." you decided with a small smile on your lips.

- "right, definitely not something I can't handle." she agreed.

[winchesterdefender]

And Then There Were Three | Winchester Sister I

Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.

Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Meg Winchester (OFC), Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter

Warnings - very mild cursing, John Winchester

Language - English (British)

Word Count - 3,096

Notes - This is the first instalment of the Winchester Sister series featuring my OFC Meg Winchester! Please be kind <3

Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

UPDATE - I have moved my writing to @winniewritesstories to make my writing easier to find than on this mess of a blog! I won't be taking this down but all future writing (for Meg and reader inserts) will be there!

Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.

Dean Winchester was strong.

And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby.

It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed.

The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother.

But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free.

But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.

He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.

The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.

"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.

"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.

"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"

"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.

"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"

"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"

"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"

"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."

"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."

Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."

"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."

Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."

"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).

As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.

The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.

"What?" he asked gruffly.

"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.

"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.

"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.

John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.

"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?

"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."

This time John did drop his beer.

The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.

He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.

In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.

"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.

"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.

"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."

"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.

"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?

"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.

"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."

Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.

"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.

"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.

"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."

"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.

"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."

"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.

"What?" Dean asked incredulously.

"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."

Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.

"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.

"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "

"We're her family! The three of us."

"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.

"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"

"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"

"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"

"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."

Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.

He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.

But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.

John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.

The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.

"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.

"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.

"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.

"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.

Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.

"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."

"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile. You don't know that."

"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."

"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.

"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."

John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."

"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"

"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?

Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."

It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.

"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."

Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."

Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.

Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.

John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.

Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.

Dean Winchester was strong.

But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?

The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.

And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.

He's Dean Winchester.

[violetswritingg]

Main Masterlist

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Imagines

Coming soon!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Series

Twisters

Thunderstruck

Tyler Owens x OFC!

Description: When cowgirl meets cowboy after a year of no-contact and chaos ensues during storm season!

Rating: M (Mentions of blood and death in Tornadoes and storms alike, angst and loss of loved ones, car accidents, Tornado aftermath, and injury to characters, slight age gap (5 years))

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 17 (Coming soon)

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Young Justice

Canary Cry

Robin/Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x OFC!

Description: Her violence was silent. Until it wasn't.

"I'm fine."

"Fine is just another word for drowning."

Rating T-M (mentions of blood, child abuse, mental health, cannon situations of violence and the like. Loss of parents, hard of hearing/deaf character, poorly written fight scenes lol)

Act-One

0: Creation

1: He Left

2: Birthday's and Nightmares

3: Drop-Zone A

4: Drop-Zone B

5: Disappointment

6: School'd

7: Trash Go Boom

8: Home

9: Infiltrator

10: Outfiltrated

11: Truces and Text messages

12: Denial

13: Downtime

Act two

14: Bereft

15: Mortal Wounds

16: Home Invasion

17: Alpha Male pt.1

18: Alpha Male pt.2

19: Plant Subterfuge

20: Revelation

21: To be determined

22: To be determined

23: To be determined

24: To be determined

25: To be determined

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Titans

Only in Darkness

Jason Todd x OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Or

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

0.5

1: A New Chapter

2: Crime Scenes and Cafés

3: Dodged Calls

4: Cop Killer

5: To The Rescue

6: Blueberry Pancakes and Rooftop Memories

7: Phone Calls

8: Panic and Motel Conversations

9: Old Friends

10: Second Chances

11: Leaving

12: Nuclear Family Drama

13: On Edge

14: Different Places

15: On The Move

16: Training Season

17: Seriously? These Guys Again?

18: Chicago, She-cago

19: The Three Musketeers

20: TBD

21: TBD

22: TBD

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Peacemaker

Stargazer

Adrian Chase x OFC!

Description:

Back in 1939 the Court of Owls set out to create the first Talon, they called this initiative the Ghost protocol. Their product? everything they ever wanted in a solider for their nefarious schemes to keep their power over Gotham City.

Roberta Harris, Bobbie if you don't want to get shot somewhere important, never wanted this life. A 'criminal' to the world and a legend in the world of spy shit and black ops project's. The bomb in her head keeps her compliant with Waller's demands until Project Starfish wins her her freedom. What will she do now?

Or

A world in which an elderly lady moves to a small town in Washington state to get away from the superhero bullshit only to get pulled back in against her will. Growing along the way as a result.

Rating: M (For obvious reasons, it's Peacemaker)

1: Freedom

2: TBD

3: TBD

4: TBD

5: TBD

6: TBD

7: TBD

8: TBD

9: TBD

10: TBD

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Invincible

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

Too Good To Be True

Carnage

Aftermath

Attacked From All Sides

Outer space

Nightmare

Burial Plot

Compromise

Shit Show

Shit Show pt.2

TBD

TBD

TBD

TBD

TBD

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More coming soon!

[xjulixred45x]

Hello :3 can I request a story or one shot about an evil invincible(prefer sinister makr) try to kidnap reader from the mainstream dimension, bc the reader of their dimensions dead :3 (platonic yandere ofc)

Sorry if this long, I just have this scenario in my head for days and I need someone to write it 😭����🙏

Take your time, and your work is amazing 💟💟💟

Hun, the Requests are Closed, but honestly? I can do this just bc My obsesión with Invincible isn't over yet(and will LAST) and honestly i NEED to write something (just the nex time wait until the Requests are Open again thank You very much)

This would be more a Drabble, aaaand i decide to use Mohawk Mark(1- i already have a work of Yandere Sinister Mark with a Sibiling and GOD i wanted to use this idea for so long 😭)

Platonic Yandere Mohawk Mark Grayson/Invincible x Sibiling Reader: You..

Mark had to take a second look as he passed by them.

Being surrounded by chaos, hurt people, buildings burning and falling down, he could only focus on them.

that was reader.

Mark knew that they were not His reader, not only because of the clear physical differences (his reader would have to be bigger, less soft and not even that small) but because he knew that in his universe there was no longer a reader who would wait for him back.

He had taken care of that himself.

It was when he began to question everything, when he accepted that he was part of the Viltrumite empire, that he realized that he could not bring his Sibiling with him. They were too weak for the empire, Nolan said.

Mark didn't want to see how they conquered the only being that made him feel genuinely happy, genuinely understood, he didn't want reader to live to be afraid of him, to hate him.

so he took the only measure that he thought would be the most merciful.

It was easy to put sedatives in Reader's food, they trusted him so easily, even after everything that was happening at that moment, what he had already done, Reader felt safe with him. Mark loved them so much.

which made what he had to do next even more painful.

reader fell asleep in a matter of minutes, leaning on him while they watched something, he doesn't remember what. Mark moved to rest their head where they were, mentally preparing himself for what he was going to do.

And he did.

a quick turn of their head and reader was gone.

quickly, while they slept, without pain. without knowing it was him. it was perfect.

Except it wasn't.

When they were making preparations for a funeral for his sibiling (they were one of the children of the new Viltrumite emperor after all), a quick analysis determined that Reader, like Mark, was just a late bloomer.

reader was about to awaken their powers. of being a complete viltrumite. they were not human, they could have been saved from seeing the horrors of the planet.

and Mark killed them.

and the feeling that remained in him was the only thing he felt since then. pure, agonizing and desperate Guilt.

Mark couldn't bring himself to try to replace the void Reader left like he had done with Eve, he just couldn't even think about it. It felt like tarnishing their memory, taking away the weight of what he had done.

It was as if the image of his sibiling now resonated both to give him comfort and to reproach him for all the horrible acts he committed.

So seeing that face that tormented him again, that face that in a way kept him alive, was creepy, but he needed more.

Mark caught up with them very quickly, as he got closer, he saw the similarities that this reader had with his own. someone young, inexperienced, fearful, weak...

But he was not prepared for what happened when he approached them. God, after so many years without them, with the guilt of what he did to them, Mark just wanted to hug them and ask for their forgiveness, he had the opportunity.

But the closer he got to the reader, the more they retreated, and then he realized that, indeed, one of his greatest insecurities had been fulfilled, even in another universe.

reader was afraid of him.

But I could tell I didn't hate him. His gestures, his blood pressure, the way he spoke to him so as not to have to fight, everything indicated a certain familiarity despite the tension in the atmosphere. This reader was like a blank slate from its original version.

a second chance. He could do things right with this reader, protect him properly, give him the opportunity he deserved within the empire, have his sibiling back...

but it would be very difficult to do that with this good-natured Mark on his heels every time he was around reader. Mark saw RED every time reader showed the closeness he had with said alternative version of him (which to make matters worse, it seemed like they were from the same universe).

Well, if this Mark is so good and heroic, he wouldn't mind handing over his sibiling willingly, right?

Even if not, Mohawk doesn't mind going over him to get to the reader, even if he scares then, even if they hates him, he won't lose sight of them anymore, he won't lose them again.

They're going home together, whether they like it or not.

Shares, reblogs and comments are very welcome!

[libraryofsecretfantasies]

Driven to Distraction

Max Verstappen x OFC. WOC. NSFW One shot. This is a long one.

The tension crackled between Max and Tara as they stood face to face in the locker room, their rivalry simmering just beneath the surface. Both accomplished F1 drivers for the Red Bull team, their competitive spirits burned bright, fueling the fire of their heated argument.

"You think you're invincible, don't you, Max?" Tara spat, her voice dripping with disdain. "You act like nothing can faze you, like you're some sort of racing god."

Max smirked, his confidence unwavering. "Damn right I do, Tara," he shot back, his tone laced with arrogance. "I can handle anything that comes my way on the track. No distraction, no challenge, nothing can break my focus. I'm the best, and you know it."

Tara's eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing in their depths. "Is that so?" she challenged, her voice low and dangerous. "Well, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

Max's smirk widened, thinking he had won the argument. "Yeah, we will," he replied smugly, turning to leave the locker room, convinced that he had bested Tara once again.

But as Max strode away, Tara's lips curled into a devious smile. She watched him go, her mind already working on her next move. Max may have thought he had won this round, but little did he know, Tara had something up her sleeve, something that would shake his confidence to its core. She was determined to prove that she was too was a force to be reckoned with. ---The next morning---

The sound of virtual engines filled the room as Max was engaged in a heated competition. His fingers danced over the controller with precision, his eyes fixed on the screen as he battled against his formidable opponents: Charles, Lando, and Alex. He had only four more laps to finish, and he was in the lead. Nothing can stop him now.

He felt someone enter the room. Tara. They had started their fight in the locker room after training, and finished it in bed that same night. No one knew about their relationship, and it was to remain that way. When Max woke up the next morning he knew he would wake up alone. Tara was long gone. That was their arrangement - they fight, they fuck, and they race.

So when Max joined his Twitch livestream, he was completely unaware that Tara had returned to his home. He tried to ignore her presence, but as he turned into the final fourth lap, he felt something touch his leg. Two hands going up his leg, and resting on his thighs. He jerked and glanced down, his eyes widening at the sight below him.

Beneath the desk, hidden from the prying eyes of his streaming audience, Tara knelt, her fingers tracing tantalizing patterns along the inside of Max's thigh. She had lipstick on. Red, just like he liked it. Her dark hair was out, and she didn't have a top on. The sight of her tits out almost made him throw his controller and suck her nipples, but he remembered their argument. Nothing could distract him from a race. Her eyes had a wicked gleam in them. She placed a finger on her full lips. An instruction - be quiet.

She slowly pulled down his shorts, until they were around his ankles. His cock was hardening, as she ran her hands up and down his leg. She stared slow, peppering his thighs with kisses, her breath hot against his skin, igniting a fire within him that threatened to consume his every thought. She saw Max's cock twitch and she smiled. This was going to be easy.

Above the table, Max had grown quiet. His hairline was itchy, his breath was starting to get heavier and his brows furrowed. Charles, Max's closest friend and fiercest rival, couldn't help but notice the subtle change in Max's expression. With a quirk of his brow, he leaned in closer, his voice filled with concern. "Hey, Max, you seem a bit... preoccupied. Everything alright over there?"

Just as Max was going to answer, he felt Tara's tongue on his balls. Fuck, she was licking them like they were her favorite ice cream. His cock was in her hand, and she was thumbing his tip. Fighting to maintain his composure, Max tried to think of answer. "Feeling the heat of the competition, Charles," he replied, his voice strained with arousal.

At this point, Tara had taken his cock in her mouth, paying special attention to the tip. She alternated between sucking the top and kissing it. She wanted to take her time, really draw this out. One of her hands was still stroking his cock, the other fondling his balls with a gentleness that wanted to make Max scream with frustration. He wanted more.

Charles grinned, his gaze lingering on Max's flushed face. "Sure, buddy, but it looks like you're feeling something else entirely," he quipped, a playful smirk tugging at his lips.

Max's heart pounded in his chest as he tried to deflect Charles's suspicions with a carefully crafted double entendre. "Well, you know me, always striving to come out on top," he replied.

Charles chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "Yeah, I can see that," he replied, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Just make sure you don't burn out before the finish line, alright?"

He smiled at that, "Don't worry about me, I'm always in control." As he spoke, he jerked his hips up so that his cock hit the base of Tara's throat. Caught by surprise, she gagged a little, but recovered. She had planned to be gentle, but if he wants a challenge then so be it. She took his entire length in his mouth, and sucked like her life depended on it.

Max let out a string of curses, and she knew that he fucked up in the race. She looked up at him, her lips still around his cock. He shot a glance down and back up to the screen, "Its fine, I'm still in the lead". It seemed like he was reassuring the stream viewers, but Tara knew he was actually telling her. At that she stuck her tongue out, so she'd lick his balls whenever she took his full length in. His cock was rock hard, she was having trouble taking him in, but she couldn't give up.

It was the last lap now and he could feel the tension building within him, sweat was rolling down his forehead and his breath was heavy. Tara's hand was now wrapped around his cock, pumping him as she sucked his tip. Her other hand still fondling his balls. Max was close, in every sense of the word

Tara was unrelenting, she kept sucking knowing that the finish line was fast approaching. Max could hardly breath, all he could feel was her lips around her cock. The finish line was right there, just a few more seconds. And just as he shot across the finish like, claiming victory against his opponents, Max's body tensed as pleasure ripped through him. Blood roared around his ears, and his vision turned white. His cum was spilling into her eager mouth as he rode the waves of his release.

As the cheers of the crowd echoed through the room, Max couldn't help but moan in ecstasy, knowing that he had conquered both the race and the ultimate challenge by his secret lover. He had slumped back into the chair and smiled lazily at the screen. He looked below his table and saw Tara still kneeling with her head resting on his leg. Her hand was still around his cock as it grew soft.

He reach down and placed his hand in her hair, stroking it and petting her. She had done well. Tara looked up at him with a hazy look in eyes, that previous fire had dimmed. A drop of his cum was on the corner of her lips and Max couldn't help but wipe it with his thumb.

She smiled at him, and in that moment of sweet victory, he realized that some thrills were worth risking it all for.

[pillowdrawz]

DBZ X Invincible and No not because of Fighting I want Mark,Eve , Debbie etc To HEAL By The SONS FAMILY THE SON FAMILY WHO IS LITERALLY ONE OF THE MOST WHOLESOME FAMILY. Like common you got a Mentor /Uncle Piccolo a badass mother Chichi who I can see be friends with Debbie ofc, You got GOKU (this Will be the Dbz Goku so he is matured but still got super saiyan god) Goku who is literally a farmer But one of the Most supportive Father figures (Umm Actually Goku was never -*SHUT THE FUCK UP PEOPLE WHO ONLY WATCH ABRIDGED AND DIDN'T UBDERSTAND GOKU'S CHARACTER THIS AINT FOR YOU-*)

Goku would Be their second Good father figures along with Piccolo to be their With Mark and Eve.

Look Im at Season 2 at Invincible I just want them to be happy please They have so much trauma I want Debbie to heal-.

Basically The son family+ Piccolo got into the Universe of Invincible and Try to live a normal life.

Idk its late lmaooo

(This is DBZ goku okay He can literally sense An Evil persons intentions and smart This isn't Dbs goku-)

[raccoon-eyed-rebel]

White blossoms - Chapter 7

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

If you like this fic, please remember to reblog so that others may also see it!

Pairing: Melot x OFC (Tamsyn)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Angst, some more angst. Shenanigans. Historical inaccuracies, probably.

@deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss @geralts-yenn @sillyrabbit81

The many long nights spent on the cold, hard ground were beginning to take their toll on your body as well as your spirit, the only solace to be found in the knowledge that it was the same for everyone else, save for the ones who had already fallen, and would never return to the warmth of a bed. Those of you who were still alive, though be it a little worn from weeks of war, had reluctantly accepted the blessing of their blankets and furs. Sadly, the warmth they provided was a pittance in the battle against the icy cold that always seemed to creep right through whatever it was you were lying on, and seeped right into your bones every night. 

The lion’s share of your remaining hope now came from the fact that there was ample reason to believe this war would be over soon, and you would return home in a matter of weeks, possibly days. That evening, as you all were gathered around the fire, you listened quietly to the roaring confidence of your brothers, wishing they would quiet down at least a little. To drown in despair would predict your demise on the battlefield almost as certainly as to imagine oneself invincible. You joined Gerant and Lowen, who were sitting to the side, quietly staring into the flames, not sharing in the ostentatious comradery of the others. 

“Bad night?” Gerant asked you as he offered you a bottle - its contents unknown to you - and a place to sit.

“Never a worse one,” you replied as you sat down and took a sip. Whatever it was, it contained copious amounts of alcohol, and that was precisely what this moment called for. 

“You miss your woman,” Gerant said plainly, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. You looked at him and sighed deeply. He was right. 

“I should have been married by now,” you said as you let your head hang between your knees. 

“You’re a lucky bastard,” Lowen snapped at you suddenly, making you look at him, one eyebrow raised both in surprise and contempt. The look in Lowen’s eyes mellowed slightly as he sighed and drank from the mug he was holding. “Morwenna’s father turned me away when I asked him for her hand in marriage. Apparently I am not a respectable enough match since I hold the same station as their son, her brother.” 

“Perhaps I am a lucky bastard, then,” you said, a sardonic chuckle creeping into your voice despite your efforts to stifle it, “I’m sorry to hear that, brother.” 

“Thank you, my lord,” he answered. It was - at that moment, at least - a painful reminder that no matter how much you did consider him your friend, your brother, he would never be quite the same as you. 

“Enough with that, you bleeding sods, it’s easy for both of you. Have you any idea what I would give right now to be like you? To never have known the touch of a woman, or what it feels like to wake up next to one? Never before in my life have I longed so violently for the presence of another person.” Gerant buried his head in his hands, possibly in hopes that neither of you would see the tears that so unconcernedly spilled from his eyes, with no regard for his composure. 

You put a hand firmly on his shoulder and looked ahead of you, into the last remaining flames of the dying fire. “All we have to do is make it home.” 

When Beryan arrived at your house to tell you the news, you were ecstatic, throwing on the first gown you could find to make yourself presentable, and following Beryan immediately to her quarters so that she could loan you something fit for court. Elowen and Morwenna were both already there, though God only knew how they had made it there before you, and you got dressed so quickly that no one would ever believe it should you ever decide to disclose that information to them. Then, you had the tremendous pleasure of waiting, impatiently wandering around the courtyard until finally someone notified you of the return of the men to the city. You longingly awaited the return of your ‘handsome warrior prince’, as Morwenna had once put it - though you stood by what you had said then: he wasn’t a prince.

A shrill contrast to your enthusiastic anticipation was it, then, that before you stood Aedan, Tristan and Lowen with concern on their faces. 

“Where is he?” you asked carefully, well aware that you had no right to his time or attention, thus demanding to see him would be impertinent at best. 

"Tamsyn…" Lowen spoke softly, in a tone you didn't like whatsoever. 

"Where is he?" you asked again, finishing the sentence just in time before your throat tensed and your vision went blurry from the welling of tears in your eyes. 

It was Morwenna who first took hold of your arm. Then, when she was finished welcoming Gerant home, Elowen followed. Beryan, who you knew to stand behind you, did nothing. 

"Is he alive?" she finally asked in the smallest voice you had ever heard, the sound drowning in hurt and despair. For a moment, jealousy coursed through your body as she revealed in that instant just how deeply she cared for your beloved. It was a brief moment, however, as Pyran made his way into the courtyard. Morwenna hugged her brother, unable to keep her eyes of Lowen. There was no doubt in your mind that she longed to be locked in his embrace, instead.

“He has been taken to his sleeping quarters,” he informed you. You gazed at Pyran suspiciously before tentatively drawing your conclusion. 

“That means he’s alive, correct?” you asked, the trembling of your voice immediately obvious to all. The men nodded quietly, exchanging looks that made you feel unwell. Several times, Tristan looked at you as though he wanted to say something, deciding against doing so every time until you were fed up with his sighing.

“Oh, for the love of God!” you exclaimed, scaring yourself with your newfound courage, and gaining some disapproving looks from others in the courtyard. “You, Tristan, either tell me what’s wrong with him, or take me to him. Now!” Behind you, you heard an approving chuckle from Beryan. It ended in a sob.

The door was ajar, so despite the hushed tone in which Tristan argued with Melot’s – and his – mother, you understood most of their conversation perfectly. The gist of their talk was that under no circumstances would you – and any and all other unwed maidens – be allowed in Melot’s quarters, let alone unchaperoned, and no, as always, unwed young men did not qualify as chaperones. Not that the latter mattered, because she made it abundantly clear that neither you, nor Beryan, were getting into that room in any kind of proper manner. The argument that you were his betrothed seemed to hold no value to the lady Rhian. Miserable and defeated, you dropped to your knees in the hallway outside the door, unable to hold back your tears for so much as a second longer. It wasn’t long before Beryan joined you.

In the end, it took Tristan, Aedan and Pyran to peel you and Beryan off the floor and escort you to the Great Hall, where king Marke seemed to take more pity on you than Melot’s mother had.

“Lady Tamsyn,” he said, “I am so very sorry. This must be very difficult for you.”

“I thank you for your kind words, my king,” you replied timidly, through exhaustion and grief now thoroughly bereft of the fire you possessed before. Morwenna took your hand in hers and guided you to a bench, where you sat down. Your friends surrounded you, all sharing the same expression, filled with sorrow and sympathy for your situation. With all your might you attempted to will yourself to force the thought of Melot’s demise from your head, but your efforts were ultimately unsuccessful. It wasn’t until you saw a rather familiar ring on an equally as familiar, wrinkled hand that reached for you.

“Yselle,” you said as you looked up at her friendly face. Lady Yselle was the old crone who had lived on the edge of the forest for as long as you could remember. As a healer, she had been one of your mother’s most frequent customers for cheesecloth and linen – the materials she used to strain her concoctions. Your dear mother had truly given it her best efforts to teach you the art of weaving, however it had soon become obvious that you were not suited for that particular craft. The lady Ysella had then offered to instead teach you hers – a proposal you had gladly accepted.

“You know, I could really use some help, dear child,” lady Yselle said as she smiled kindly down at you.

It was her friendly smile that rekindled the embers inside of you. Without thinking, you took her outstretched hand in yours and rose from your seat, happy to be given something to do. Something to take your mind off Melot. “Where do I begin?”

“I was told the king’s nephew finds himself in quite the dire state,” Yselle spoke, a mischievous twinkle in her eyes that you would recognize from miles away. “Clean and dress his wounds. Meet me here when you have done all you can for him.”

Armed with a small leather bag containing supplies, you rushed back to Melot’s chamber. After a short knock on the door, his mother called you into the room. Upon seeing you, however, she immediately ordered you to leave.

“I believe I told Tristan that you and Beryan were under all circumstances forbidden from visiting Melot in his current state,” she snapped as you set foot in the room.

“Lady Rhian, I am not here in that capacity, I-” She did not allow you to finish your sentence. Instead, she interrupted you with a tirade regarding propriety and decorum that you heard scarcely a word of. One look at Melot, who was lying on his bed, told you how dismal his predicament truly was. He was covered with blankets only until his middle, while a sheen of sweat covered the rest. A horribly deep gash was clearly visible on his shoulder and chest – no longer bleeding, but that was about the only upside to his situation.

“My lady, I am terribly sorry to interrupt you,” you said sternly – more so than you had ever thought yourself capable of, “but Melot needs help, or he will die.” To swallow the lump in your throat created by speaking those words was a horrendous task, but you eventually managed. Behind you, your friends seemed to have followed you to Melot’s quarters, and judging from the sounds they made, were impressed with your fierceness.

You rushed to Melot’s side to inspect his injury, carefully laying a hand on his as you did so, hoping his mother wouldn’t see – or at least wouldn’t complain. His skin was hot, and damp with sweat, the injury on his chest red and swollen. The bag you had been given only held about half of the supplies you were going to need.

“I need clean water, Pyran,” you snapped as you rose from the ground and strode across the room towards the table, where you unpacked the contents of your bag. “Morwenna! Meadowsweet, yarrow and chamomile.” While Morwenna sped off immediately, Pyran stood in the door, frozen.

“Pyran, bring me what I asked for, or so help me God, I will give you a lashing so brutal your future children will feel it, still!” Several sets of eyes stared at you from the doorway in absolute incredulity.

“Tam-” Pyran started his protest, but he wasn’t allowed to finish, for lady Rhian rose from her stool in the corner and put her hands on her hips.

“Do as you’re told, Pyran. Tristan, go with him. Quickly, before I make good on that threat of hers!” The boys didn’t even wait for her to finish her sentence. Lady Rhian then turned to you: “He has another wound on his upper leg.”

You walked over to him again, kneeling nearer his feet this time, and carefully lifted the blanket that covered your beloved. Underneath it, he was naked – a fact that both startled and excited you. Though the latter was, of course, wholly inappropriate given the circumstances, you couldn’t help yourself. Resolutely, you pushed the thought from your mind and focused on the wound in front of you: Another appalling gash, no doubt caused by a sword or knife, at least as deep as the one on his chest, and equally as swollen and warm to the touch. What worried you most is that Melot barely made a sound as you examined the wound, despite your having to touch it numerous times, the pain of which just had to be excruciating. Yet he uttered not a single word, nor a cry.

When Pyran and Tristan returned with your water, Morwenna had already brought you the herbs you asked for.

“What took you so long?” you snapped at the men as they handed you what you needed. Without waiting for their answers or excuses, you went back to work, preparing poultices to treat Melot’s injuries. While you waited for the water to come to a boil in the kettle over the brazier in the room, you handed lady Rhian a jar of dried willow bark and gave her the instructions necessary to make it into a tea that would hopefully improve her son’s condition.

“Twice daily, if at all possible,” you added.

You kneeled by his side once more, applying compresses to both wounds as gently as was possible. When you were done with that, you dipped a piece of linen in cold water and wiped his forehead with it, repeating the motion over and over again, just to take your mind off the state in which your intended found himself. You sat with him until the poultices needed to be removed, and you cleaned and dressed his wounds.

“I have done all I can for now,” you spoke softly to his mother, “I will come back to check on him tomorrow.”

“Dear child,” lady Rhian replied, “you may sit with him a while longer, if you wish.” From her eyes spoke gratitude, from her voice humility. “Lady Rhian, as grateful as I am to hear these words, I promised the lady Ysella to help her when I was done here.” You curtseyed briefly before leaving the room and made your way to the grand hall, where Ysella had her hands full with numerous other wounded soldiers.

[gravioli]

Random 8ACV04 Continuity Notes Because There Was So Much

 "Tonight's winning number was approximately six" may be a reference to "today's winning lotto number was 4." from When Aliens Attack.

"Up here in the clouds, our technology makes us invincible, like the mighty X in Tic-Tac-Toe." - Zapp in Fun on a Bun. Fry and Zapp both think the secret to Tic-Tac-Toe is choosing X.

Bender does a play on words with human skin in this episode when he says "The dust is drying out my skin". He did a play on words with a human heart in Insane in the Mainframe ""You've got the heart of a robot. Just like inside me, I've got the heart of a human."

The Beast with a Billion backs also did a "it's a bird, it's a plane" joke.

Bender's grandfather is a pounder. He mentions his grandmother was a bulldozer in Beast with a Billion Backs. He mentioned his aunt was a screw in The Sting, but it was Leela's coma dream.

Farnsworth disagrees with something that he just said again, a very common gag.

"Neat" Bender catchphrase, ofc.

"My manwich" Hermes catchphrase, ofc.

In "Parasites Lost", the mayor of Fry's colon said his ancestors came over on the sandwich, so it probably is NOT the same worm since their lifespans were supposed to be very short.. or y'know, the writers maybe ignored that.

Farnsworth introduced the enlarging ray in "Anthology of Interest I", so the crew doesn't remember it because that didn't actually happen (but like the fing-longer, he must have invented it in real life, too). It also looked pretty different in that episode.

"You could end up permanently tasting colors". Fry tasted purple in "The Why of Fry", another episode where Nibbler is an important character.

Not really continuity related, but wouldn't it have been easier to just get some more sand from Eternium?

[minopauro]

"people u want to know better" tag

i was tagged by @pulpa-de-gorila, gracias chikiss, hora de doxearme muejejeje

1: Three Ships

There's a lot of fictional/canon ships that i like, but the ones i remember at the moment would be:

Raine x Eda from owl house

Aziraphale x Crowley from good omens

Luigi x Bowser from the mario bros franchise

I really like the dynamics they have in general, mostly because im a sucker for the "old, rancid(?) and in love" type of ships, which is something i personally don't see that often in the media.

2: First Ever Ship

The very first one i can remember was fear and anger from inside out (pls don't judge me 😭) , i don't even know where i saw the appeal between those 2, i guess it was thanks to the fanart from 2015 tumblr

3: Last Song

I like to have the phantom of the opera 2011 musical on the background while i do homework, which is mostly all the time lol

4: Last Film

Paprika! Saw it with a friend for the first time and i did not understand a single thing, still had fun watching it though, i'm a big fan of the animation and compositions from Satoshi Kon's movies

5: Currently Reading

I'm not someone who reads that often, but since i recently got the physical books of treasure island and pride and prejudice, i've been checking a few pages of those! i had a fear of not understanding them but they are pretty enjoyable so far :)

6: Currently Watching

Still in the first episode of Pluto, i've already read some of the manga, the fact that all their episodes are about an hour long amazes me for anime on netflix

Also Invincible s2! had a great start, can't wait for the next episodes to come

7: Currently Consuming

tuna with crackets, i normally put mayonnaise but i forgot to buy some for this week :'p

8: Currently Craving

i haven't had carnitas from my hometown for months.. december come sooner please ajsjsaj

i don't think i have many active mutuals >.>, so i'll tag @monstatron @lucifers-horror-harem and @sorrowful--owl, we haven't talked in a long while so feel free to ignore ofc! hope you're doing great :)

[silveraurea]

The lion cub

cr: pinterest

Pairings: OFC x Ned Stark

Summary: King Robert fears a Targaryen restoration. Maerryn gives birth and returns to Westeros to pay an old debt.

TW: angst; death; mention of sex.

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Chapter 12

Legs of iron crossed the wheat field, grey of ashes, red of blood. The feet nearly stumbled on a soldier, robust and dead. The stag grunted, damned the great wolf who rebelled against him, his old friend and brother. Twenty years ago he was tall and strong and invincible, his fury alone ended the Targaryen dynasty. Damned be, all who now rose against the mighty stag, chained to his lust in all but power. All in name of a dragon bastard.

Entered the tent. Found the great lion cleaning his sword, as old, as cruel. “Damn you, Tywin Lannister!”, the brown eyes lit. “Damn you for ever fathering that whore! Kept her right under my nose, thinking I wouldn’t spare her!”.

“She is no longer a Lannister, Your Grace, and much less my daughter. They all use her as an excuse to raise their banners”.

“You fool! Why didn’t you kill her back then?”, he exclaimed, filled a chalice with wine. “Now the two whores are pregnant!Viserys and his two sister-wives, leading a Dothraki hord!”.

“I wouldn’t worry much, my king”, Tywin lifted the sword, “The Dothraki can never afford a fleet. Furthermore, dragons are extinct”.

Green scales dragged the iron chains across the carpet. The dragon let a small roar when a tiny hand lifted a dragon made of wood and hit it thrice on the castle. The silver-eyed twins, Rhaella and Rhaellor, aged three, struggled to teach the bronze-eyed boy, Aerys, how to fight with wooden dragons, with little success.

“Aerys, this way you’ll destroy the castle!”, Rhaellor took the wooden dragon from his hand. Aerys cried.

Maerryn approached the children, got down to reach them. The three were raised as siblings, spoke only High Valyrian, to honor their blood. ��Rhaellor, stop arguing with your cousin!”, she scolded him, and returned the dragon to the little boy.

Went back to the seat beside Daenerys, who supported a velvet fabric in her growing womb. “I thank you, sister”. They shared a smile. “Look, I’ve been working on this for Aerys’ nameday”.

Maerryn analyzed the brown fabric. Three dragons flew over the Red Keep on a cloudy sky. Goldwing, Bleedfyre and Wildbreath were in their splendor, as big as history would describe their glory, three dragons for the three remaining Targaryens. She looked at the three dragons playing near the children, and wondered where they would be kept once they grew larger; the ancient idea of a pit filled her with sadness. “It’s beautiful. I’m proud of your progress, sister”, Maerryn smiled. “I wish I had my rhinestones to add, but I left them in Winterfell, years ago”.

“Do you miss it? Winterfell?”.

The golden eyes looked ahead to the red sand. The cold of Winterfell haunted her through the eyes of Rhaellor and Rhaella. They reminded her of the never ending snow, the cold walls, the loneliness. When Maerryn first held them upon leaving her womb, the sight of silver eyes made her cry. She thanked the gods, for they gave her something to remember her husband. Alive or dead, Eddard Stark was present in their strength, their compassion. The princess prayed every day for him. But Winterfell could burn, she’d rather spend her whole life on the desert with little water. “There was not a day in which I didn’t shiver. Only Ned could bring warmth”.

They shared a laugh. “Indeed, must be unbearable. Our little dragons would suffer. As did you, sister”.

Suddenly, Wildbreath sung. Goldwing climbed on Maerryn, big enough to cover her body. The entrance was lifted, Viserys was welcomed by the green dragon, the blue eyes enchanted on how he had grown, almost the size of a pony. His hand messed the white curls of the children and embraced his sisters.

“Viserys! It’s been years!”, said Maerryn, as the two sisters got up.

The prince kept them seated. “Do not rise! It seems I’ll have another nephew”, his hand greeted the child on Daenerys’ womb.

“No one is more thrilled than the Khal! He even dismissed Daenerys of serving him, on the sole purpose of preserving the child”.

“What is Valyria like? Did you get hurt?”.

“It’s beautiful. Surrounded by ruins, abyss and sea. Inhabited. Got a few scars from it, but it’s too soon to say”.

Rhaellor pulled his mother’s dress. “Mother!! Look, dragon eggs!”.

Each child carried an egg, scales shining on the sun. Bleedfyre quickly flew to protect the bag. “Er, children, these are not toys!”, said Viserys, putting the eggs back to the bag. “It was supposed to be a surprise. If they hatch”.

“So it’s true! Sister, maybe we can hatch more! Look how many!”, Daenerys asked to see the bag, and counted three red, one bronze, two silver, one green, two gold.

“Maybe Goldwing can help incubate them”, said Maerryn, and the gold dragon bumped on her hand.

When the moon was beginning to lower, Maerryn woke up with screams. Beside her, Rhaegor slept profoundly, but Rhaella had terror in her eyes, large tears made of fear. “My angel”, she hugged the girl, “did you have a nightmare?”.

Rhaella sniffed, calmed at her mother’s embrace. “Can you tell me what it was?”. She caught breath, “I… I saw a giant lion. It was a cub, but big. Cornered me and Rhaellor to an abyss. It stepped closer and closer, until it was inches away. And then… a wolf jumped in front of us. But the cub killed the wolf. There was a lioness with wings who attacked the cub, carved the claws on his heart and started eating him. Mother, I’m scared. These dreams are not real, are they?”.

Maerryn frowned, caressed the white curls. “Have you had these dreams before?”. Rhaella shook her head. The princess kissed her head. “I’ve had dreams like yours since young. They talk of past, of future, and will haunt you as long as you live. Rhaella, look at me”. The child obeyed, the silver eyes shining in the moonlight. “Don’t ever tell anyone about them. Not even Rhaellor. They will fret once they find truth in your visions, and you will be their prisoner. You must only tell me. Promise?”. Rhaella nodded, and hugged her.

The amber eyes looked at the white curls of the twins. Maerryn had delayed her mission to ensure their safety, but Rhaella’s dream reminded her of their fate. She woke up Rhaellor. “My two little dragons”, she smiled, “I need you to be kind and strong. Mother will be away for a while. You must obey your uncles. I will send for you when the time is right. Take care of Goldwing for me, will you?”.

They cried silently. Maerryn kissed their foreheads, a blessing for the difficult times to come. Gave them the dragon’s eye ring as an insignia for her word. “We will meet again very soon”.

Entered Daenerys’ tent. Touched her shoulder. “Sister. I must leave now. Please take care of the children. I will send for them, for you, as soon as I can”.

“Where will you go?”.

“I must pay an old debt”.

In the ardent sun, iron claws touched the golden grass. The white curls shined on the open wheat field. Once the land made of gold, the Westernlands were now an open grave. Even the strong Baratheon army and the king’s army couldn’t defeat the wrath of the Riverlands and the North. The golden grass hid the ashes on the ground, castles were crumbled to ruins. As a result, Tywin Lannister was deposed as hand. The lions lost most of their glory.

The sun seemed to mock at the sight of Maerryn Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone, chasing a rabbit across the wheat fields. She had payed her way from the red waste to the free cities to Lannisport. Painted the white hair with octopus excrement, no one would say a thing to a lowborn witch traveling to the Island of Faces. The claws grasped the ears, looked at the paralyzed rabbit. In other times, she would skin it, turn the beautiful fur into a hand warmer for the lands of ever winter. But at this moment, her thoughts were muddled, the lioness craved for flesh.

Entered a cave under the hill. Found seat on a rock, made a cut on the rabbit with the iron claws. A deep growl startled her. The remaining sun rays kissed golden paws that stepped closer. A copper-black mane adorned the large head, showed its fangs at each growl, larger than a hand.

The great lion approached slowly. The amber eyes widened, marveled at its mightiness. Placed the rabbit on the floor, in front of the animal, she was herself a lioness and it would spare her. It would spare her, Maerryn watched the great lion tear the rabbit apart. The sun hid on the horizon; the lioness laid on the rocks and closed the eyes at the sound of hunger.

Woke up in a fright. The bright sun lit the black cave, and the great lion laid beside her. Purred at the pale curls, its mouth presented her with a rabbit, intact. Maerryn held the dead rabbit, the beast lowered its head, the small hand found its mane. The great lion curled to her. Astonished, Maerryn accepted its company. “The gods showed mercy”, she whispered, caressing the beast, no house from the west had ever tamed a great lion. The princess cried at the sun. She had a claim to The Rock.

Walked for days. The great lion became her esquire, often hunting for them both, growling in response to whatever she told him. Maerryn then begun circling The Rock, hiding in caves, scratching the claws to spend her time. Until one night the guards marched outside of The Rock. Until one night the great lion followed her and sat behind, as her hand found the secret door to the mines. Until all lions from Casterly Rock were freed and answered to her command. Until she found Tywin Lannister in his room, without a single man to guard him.

The marble floor lit by the crackling fire. The old lion sit at the council table, accompanied by two empty goblets and a chalice full of wine. Had the last sip of many, all around him begun to blur and he wanted nothing more than a maiden to bed, a sack of coins would do. Supported the body with his hands on the table, and as he tried to focus ahead, a woman appeared behind the arch. Stepped forward, he could see curls ignited by the fire, hidden by a blue veil. Pierced his eyes at the fragile body, the small hands, the cat eyes. Eyes he knew too well.

“Myrren?”.

As the dame approached, he noticed. The fire had deceived him, the hair shone as white, as bright as the moon; the eyes were of amber, the claws were of iron. His little cub was no more. Long was the sweet, longing stare of a frightened girl that everything understood, everything accepted. The fierce cat eyes, once cold and green and calculating, turned amber of vengeance, of passion, of fire. His eyes lost color. Beyond him was the little girl he rescued from the Red Keep, who attempted to end his life in this very room, two decades past.

“Maerryn?”.

The princess showed her face. Approached the old man, who struggled to maintain his balance. Giggled, the mighty Tywin Lannister was indeed mediocre, a man with cheap needs, trapped on a mine of gold.

Maerryn had one sip of the chalice. The amber eyes closed at the bitterness left on her throat. Opened, the walls of salt were suddenly licked by orange flames. Turned red. She hugged to swords melted into stone, and above laid a man with nails that reached the floor, hair as white as hers, violent eyes. “Burn them all!”, he ordered. “Burn them all”, the city was in flames, the pitiful princess laid beside her father, certain the guard with lion’s armor would kill them both. She saw the Valyrian steel trespass the black robe above her, clung to the feet of the lion guard.

Across the room, a man with black cape and silver fur stared. The sword fell from his hand, “What have you done?”. The princess quickly crawled to him, kissed his feet, there was kindness in his heart. “My good Ser, if there is any honor left in you, spare my life and of my nephews. They are two and three, and know nothing of cruelty”. A hand touched the white curls, “My princess”, his voice was crisp and deep, harsher than truth, “stay here. I’ll look for your nephews”.

Screams echoed in the hall of the kings. Maerryn silently followed the man with silver fur, and saw the Lord Hand taking off a spear from a woman in orange. Felt a black glove stop her. The princess cried, released herself from the stoic man, hugged the white-haired baby and the girl about her age. “My lord hand, I beg of you”, she pleaded, crawling to his feet, “I, Maerryn Targaryen, princess of Dragonstone, renounce my life in name of my nephews. Kill me, let them return with Lord Stark so they can know peace”.

The man with stern eyes kicked the princess away, stepped outside. The little girl watched him clean the spear. A giant man appeared behind him, a pair of hands lifted her, felt her face bury into the silver fur. Screams followed strange breathing sounds. The princess tried to look behind the man, worried about her nephews, but he rushed towards the door.

A man with a stag helmet stopped him, “Seven hells, Ned, kill the damn girl!”, said the voice as low as thunder. “I must save her”, she heard the crispy voice again. Then, he was stopped again, by a spear. “Hand her to me”, said the man in the lion armor. Maerryn tightened her grip to his neck, screamed at the guard who parted her from him, was thrown inside a carriage. “Your fondness for the princess will be remembered”, she heard the lord Hand’s voice.

“So it’s true”, his words echoed in her mind, as she slowly became aware of her surroundings, “Your hair lost color. Your blood lost gold”.

The amber eyes filled with water. Ned was the one who saved her during the siege. All along, he tried to protect her.

“That night, during the sack. Why did you spare me?”.

“You have the Lannister blood. It’s a pity you disobeyed me and turned to be so unfilial!”.

“I spent my entire life trying to please you! I married North to bring glory to your house. I converted tens of northern banners on your favor! And you had the nerve to disown me!”

His fist met the table. “I sent you North so you would tame the wolves and be fierce, ruthless! Create a Lannister court, seize their power! And what did you do instead?!”, he smiled. “I never expected Ned to be so humble, and you to be so stupid. In the end, you are just a woman. Why did you have to be so compassionate, so reasonable to him? And then… you kidnapped Tyrion! He would not lie about such atrocity, no matter how dumb it was. This is when I cut ties with you. And thinking it could not get worse, you ignited the Riverlands against me! Tell me, how can you possibly be my daughter?!”.

Maerryn looked into the fire. Whatever pain, whatever sorrow she ever felt was because of his doings. Her mother being killed on his command; taught to hate her own kind; Lady Catelyn’s murder, the Stark children becoming orphans, Ned losing his wife; marrying into an unwelcoming clan, the murder attempt by the septa. They all had the same end: to make her suffer.

“What will you do now, dare I ask? Return North? Take Dragonstone? Will you use Ned’s army or the Dothraki? I am curious. Did you ever received another seed? Will the Khal take you as a consort, or you’ll breed little dragons to your brother? A little thing like you is only capable of spreading legs!”.

“Beware of your words”, she warned. “My blood is made of fire and gold. I have children made of ice and fire”, she stated. The great lion appeared behind, and advanced slowly.

“The dragon’s blood locks you in this chain of vengeance! You will do everything in your power until you find justice. However, dear princess, you are doomed. Even if you burn all around you, your heart will never find rest”.

The amber eyes saw fury. “We are no longer father and daughter. But I am still a lioness”. Maerryn climbed on the table and held his neck behind a dagger. Tywin Lannister held the trembling pale hand, eager to push the dagger away.

“I have bred wolves. I have raised a dragon. And I have tamed the lions of the rock”.

The blade trespassed his throat. The lion jumped at his trembling body, as Maerryn took off his head and put it on the velvet sack. The imp invaded the room. “Sister!”, the green eyes widened at the sight of blood, his father’s body being fed to the great lion, “What have you done?!”.

“What I was destined to do”. The princess descended from the table. Her heart knew no remorse. “Rejoice, brother. As promised, you are now Lord of Casterly Rock”.

Tyrion gasped, hid his mouth with the little hands. “This cannot be! You weren’t supposed to kill father! This…”, he fret, failing to see in her the cunning Myrren, who always thought thrice, who would never surrender to such irrational desire. The white hair seemed to grow on her mind, she was a full dragon, in vengeance and madness. “Dear sister, you are blind! We have no forces to stand on our own! No grains, no weapons, all because of the stupid little war your husband laid upon us. How will we stand?!”.

He walked around the table, watched more lions invade the room and devour his father. “The West is but ashes. I- I cannot stay! I will find aid with the Cleganes, yes, they will be of help”.

The iron claws stopped him. “Little brother. Every time you see danger ahead, you flee. Tell me this, why did you lie to father? Wasn’t you who persuaded me to take the Rock for you?”.

He tried to smile. She could be mad, but she saw right through him. “Sister, see, this is too much for me. I never intended to have father killed, I only wanted to…”:

“Whore around and enjoy the never ending pleasures gold can buy! What a coward!”, Maerryn scoffed, “You are indeed a stain on the Lannister name! Good thing I am not your sister anymore”. The dagger met his neck. She would not face betrayal again. “If you back away, you will not live”.

Tyrion lowered his head. It was his fault she turned like this. Had not he encouraged her to take the Rock or supported her, she would not have left Winterfell easily, not after Ned showed his love. Tyrion had given her every reason not to trust him. Since things were so, it was best to let her act her way, and pray he would live. “Sister. Why don’t you rule instead? I never had such aspiration. I am content to stay in your court, even as a jester”.

The princess was silent. The ancient desire of power grew vines on her heart. For three years she rode across the Red Waste, commanded the Khal’s army, slayed people under his name. Maerryn watched the lions fight for Tywin’s body, tearing his members apart. Their obedience to her was a sign from the gods, a sign she was destined to rule the most fearsome of beasts: lions, wolves, dragons.

“There is no one more fit than you”, he sung, desperate for his life. “You have the blood of the dragon. Wherever it goes, so goes power”.

Two entire kingdoms led a three-year war on her name, she remembered. The West was brought to waste because of her. The stag hid on the Red Keep, afraid of the day the dragons would seek his power. She would be merciful, such day would not take much longer.

“Kneel”, she ordered. The imp’s knee met the floor, the sword tinted with blood hit his shoulder. “I, Maerryn Targaryen, the lioness, Queen in the Rock, princess of Dragonstone and heir to the seven kingdoms, hereby name thee, Lord Tyrion of Casterly Rock, as hand of the queen”.

Tyrion kissed her hand. Raised at her gesture.

“Send all the ravens in the Rock. Announce to the seven kingdoms: Casterly Rock is to stand on its own, as an independent kingdom. The lords of the West are to show on the forthnight to plead loyalty to their queen. Fail to do so, they will be considered traitors and be fed to the lions of the Rock”.

[nooms-posts]

SAO

Fire force

Spy x family

fairy tail

black clover

Oshi no ko

quintessential quintuplets

Akame ga kill

kill La kill

highschool dxd,

chainsaw man,

food wars

my dress up darling

one piece

Bunny girl Senpai

HxH

Horimiya

Seven deadly sins

Assassin classroom

Steven universe

Diabolik lovers

Citrus

The Vampire Diaries

Tokyo Ghoul

Death Note

JJBA

Lycoris recoil

Black clover

Fate

KPOP

TVD

FNAF

Genshin

Elden ring

Scp

Frozen 1/2

Legend of Korra

Overwatch

league of legends

The incredibles

Apex legends

Marvel

Dc

TDI

Valorant

Wwe

KPOP

Rainbow six siege

RE4

My hero Academia

Citrus

Dragon ball super

Yamada at level 999

Classroom of the elite

Attack on Titan

Spiderverse

Danny phantom

Scooby doo

The outsiders

Tokyo revengers

Deadpool 2

Ben 10

Resident evil (series)

Lara Croft

Nintendo

Hazbin hotel

Solo leveling

The flash

Evangalion

ATLA

My babysitters a vamp

Invinsible

The Witcher

Gravity falls

Rogue x gambit and John Constantine x Zatanna, storm x rogue and storm x gambit are my favorites

FxF main

Also sent a “” so I know you’ve read it. And “” if you would like to do a kpop or YJ, Wwe & Manhwa windbreaker

Swat, Tqq

For celebs: Scarlet Johansson, Brie Larson, Zendaya, Jenna Ortega, Chloe Bennet, Florence Pugh, Dixie D’Amelio, Charlie D’Amelio, Ariana grande, Bella porch, Sadie sink, Natalie Dyer, Maya hawk

, Bilie Eilish, Dua Lipa, dove Cameron, Sabrina carpenter, Sydney Sweeney, Emma Myers, pokimane. Valkyrae, Nicki Minaj, Rubi Rose, Doja cat, Taylor swift, Ice spice, Beyoncé, Tate McRae, Sidney Sweeney, Emma Wattson, Tara Yummy, Ari Abdul, Renee Rap, Sza, Natalie dyer

Prefer KPOP n lookism, burn the witch n street fighter 6, ff7, demon slayer, Etc

Valorant for sure! Looking for neon n Jett.

Fav: wwe, stranger things, force, dbs, Kim possible, invincible, Windbreaker (manhwa) + Elden Ring, lookism, supernatural,KPOP, titans, the boys, fruits basket, demon slayer, Rick n morty, SVFOE, JCREEP, Star Wars, AOT, TVD, atm LF YG

(For YG Which is what I’m mainly looking for.. these are the main ships. Looking to do Drama, angst, romance (no Erp ofc) and other things ^^ looking to do longterm. I play women.) I also prefer FxF or fxfuta tho idm FxM

Artemis x Wally

Zatanna x nightwing

Chesire x Red Arrow

Wonder girl x anyone (male or female)

[munchkinmarauder]

What's up with comics and their disdain for colouring brown people consistently? At least Pietro's colouring in his Upcoming Avengers bloodhunt tie is more consistent here with Wanda's that series and ofc the twins are visible PoC in Orlando's series for them as well and he looks so much better there.

Pietro randomly being drawn white in a series by Duggan again? Funny it's happened thrice now (looking at you Thanksgiving issue of Invincible Iron Man) when they corrected it in Uncanny Avengers.

Conversations about that aside Pietro's little cameo here is interesting. He's not technically a mutant anymore and they could have easily had Deadpool here in his place. Pietro's fall of X appearances have been aligning him more with the mutants- he gets specifically called a mutie by Orchis, berates the fenris twins for betraying their own kind, sides with Rouge and the other mutants in the leadership debate over Cap and is now here ofc. All small but deliberate choices, is it leading up to something or is it just saying he's a firmly mutant aligned and honorary mutant character for now. It's probably not that deep but I do suspect Marvel are bringing the twins more firmly back into the mutant fold now (maybe re-retconned into mutants again given Jarvis possibly implies Wanda may still be one in a recent Avengers issue?).

In any event everyone is gearing up for the final battle against Orchis. Hoping we get a Lorna, Pietro and Wanda reunion soon. Magneto is back but I'm not sure how any reunion (if we do get one will go). We're not finding out what Magneto wrote in his letter to the twins for at least another month and it's not clear chronologically where Scarlet Witch and Quicksilver takes place in relation to all this Orchis stuff (presumably it's before all this given Mags is back now when. He is believed dead before)

Who can spot the difference?

[violetswritingg]

Valkyrie

Mark Grayson x OFC!

Description: In which two superpowered teens meet and fall in love amongst blood, death, and betrayal

Rating: M (Canon typical violence, betrayal, mental health issues, survivor's guilt, abandonment issues, child neglect, angsttttt)

Want to read the other chapters?

Click here

10: Shit Show pt.2

The next few days were brutal, the training schedule for the Guardians had been dialed back due to Monster Girl’s restrictions but even then, flying to and back from the pentagon at least twice a day was taxing. With school added on top of that it was hard to balance.

Stella fell asleep in classes and struggled to focus. Doing her best to at least say hi to Mark, Willliam, and Eve in the halls before sprinting off to her next class and studying in between periods – when she wasn’t being called upon by Cecil to go save the world in one fashion or another. Having brief bright spots in her classes she shared with Mark.

It had been a long day, Stella slowly climbing through her window, and letting herself fall to the floor. Star fishing with a huff as she closed her eyes. Letting go of a long breath and letting the cold of the tile under her sink into her skin and ground her in the reality of the moment. The days previous having all smashed together into one continuous stream of jumbled training exercises, paperwork, and crimefighting.

“Stella.”

The teen superhero’s eyes shot open, the girl on her feet in an instant.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She spit at the two individuals in her living room. The man and woman causing a lump to form in her throat. Both looking at her with eyes tinged in sadness, desperation drowning out everything else.

“We need to talk to you.” The man, Ivan, spoke gesturing to the couch next to the woman, Helen. Matching eyes clashing as Stella looked between her parents.

“I think that ship has sailed.” Stella scoffed, planting herself where she was behind her kitchen island, taking off her backpack and tossing it on the counter behind her. Crossing her arms as she looked back to her parents.

“Stella, baby please-”

Stella held up a hand to the woman she used to call mom, “You don’t get to call me that. Not anymore.” Stella huffed, leaning on the island, palms prickling with the cold. “What the hell did you need to talk to me so badly about that you decided it was a good idea to break into my home?”

“This isn’t a home.” Helen spoke softly, rising from the couch and standing at her husband’s side.

“Yes. It is. It’s my home and it’s been my home since you kicked me out!” Stella snapped, taking a second, pinching the bridge of her nose as she breathed, “What. Do. You. Want.”

“We need to talk about Invincible.” Ivan cemented himself, chin rising as he matched Stella’s combative demeanor. Both facing off in a battle of wills. Neither one wanting to break eye contact first.

“What makes you think you have the right to come in here and talk to me about anything?” Stella seethed, slowly taking steps around the island.

“I am your father, we are your parents-”

“No! You’re not! You gave that title up when you kicked me out. You literally said it! You said that I wasn’t your daughter anymore if I became a hero. So, you don’t get to pull that card. Not anymore.” Stella barked, pointing an accusatory finger at the man. Teeth grinding when she felt her eyes begun to sting with tears. “It has been three years. You don’t get to suddenly come back into my life like this and talk to me about my friends like you still care. You don’t get to just show up like you didn’t do what you did.” Stella’s arm dropped back to her side as she shook her head. Watery gaze drowning in betrayal and anger.

“Invincible is not your friend, he’s a-” Ivan tried to speak but Stella just shook her head, talking over him.

“Who my friends are is none of your concern! Now leave, get out! You had no issue doing it before!”

“Would you just listen!”

“No! I told you to get out!”

“Stop it! Both of you!” Helen jumped in the middle of the pair who looked like they would tear open the other’s throats in another second. “Just, stop.” Helen laid a brief hand on her husband’s chest before turning to the almost adult girl in front of her, seeing how grown up she had become in the time she had been away from them, memories they had missed making with their flesh and blood. But also seeing the fatigue, the exhaustion plaguing her shoulders and eyes. “Please Stella, you have no idea who he is, who his father is.”

“I know who he is. He’s my friend, a good friend that cares about me. Which is more than I can say for you two. I’m not talking about this with you, get out before I contact Cecil and have you removed.” Stella planted herself, eyes hardening like stone as she lifted her chin.

“Don’t come crying to us when he hurts you.” Ivan spit out and stormed over to the front door, swinging it open and waiting for his wife. The woman just looking at Stella with a heartbroken expression, Stella just nodding to the door without emotion.

A few tears fell from Helen’s eyes as she brought a hand up to her mouth before turning on her heel and rushing to the door. Ivan just shaking his head before slamming the door shut behind him. Stella flinching at the sound.

The girl letting out the breath she had been holding unintentionally as her shoulder’s sunk. Hands catching her weight on the back of her couch as her legs shook. Her stomach turning over and over.

Stella shook her head. Pushing off the couch and walking back over to her backpack. Taking out her suit and climbing back through her window.

~~*~~

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Kallamar x reader? Like instead of killing the Bishops, Lamb just made them all follower sized and indoctrinated them. So S/o is probably the only person in the cult(aside from his siblings ofc) that Kallamar will really talk to, because s/o often stand up for him against any asshats? Maybe one day, s/o is attacked by a couple dissenters and Kallamar, in an uncharacteristic show of bravery, show up and scares them off? Or maybe he just beats tf outta them, I'll leave that up to you.

remember: hydrate of diedrate :]

It was just another lovely day in the Cult of the Lamb, with you being tasked with harvesting the vegetables at the farming plot. 

You hummed a tune as you put on your hat and started picking them, making sure they were neatly organized in the chest.

Your stomach was growling at the thought of having a delicious veggie stew, although you were quite eager to have fish thrown into the mix. Lamb went off to gather some at Pilgrim's Passage, so while they were out you worked hard to ensure they could make food as soon as they returned.

Unfortunately, not everyone in the cult was as obedient nor as chipper as you. 

In fact, you were currently doing your best to tune out the dissenters shouting nonsense into the megaphones near the shrine.

As of late, Lamb has made..a number of questionable decisions. Among them being their decision to indoctrinate the Bishops of the Old Faith into the cult after defeating them.

Yes, the same bishops who slaughtered their kind and tormented innocent followers--now under their ruling as immortal, but not entirely invincible, vessels.

You weren’t sure what made them decide to do that. Though their actions still broke the chains that kept the One Who Waits Below locked up...so you didn’t question them much and instead welcomed them as you would any follower.

Kallamar was the most recent arrival, and his cowardice was on full display. He was among the most obedient--albeit out of fear of being abandoned or killed by the lamb who bested him in combat.

This made him a doormat, in a sense, by others. They’d make him do the work they were assigned to, tell Lamb lies about him stealing, or attempt to trick him into eating certain..undesirable dishes as “revenge” for making them sick.

Yet he would endure it all...until you stood up for him one day and became a close friend. Nowadays he only talked to you, Lamb, Leshy, and Heket, finding comfort especially in your presence.

After some encouragement from his siblings, he nervously confessed his romantic interest in you during a chat over dinner. He nearly sobbed when you accepted his feelings, promising him you’ll protect him so he didn’t feel like an outcast.

Sadly, you couldn’t be in two places at once when he was being harassed. And you even made a few enemies yourself as word spread of your relationship.

Such as the dissenters who noticed you were alone and decided to pay a visit.

As you closed the chest lid, you felt your farming hat being snatched away and turned around, frowning. “Excuse you. That was rude-”

“Why do you love that monster?”

“...guys, we’ve already been over this.” You sighed, realizing you’re gonna have this conversation for the hundredth time. It was irritating you. “But you know, it’s ironic how you’re calling him the monster when you two have been nothing but bullies ever since he arrived. Just give him a chance.”

“Why? You’re not the Leader.” One sneered, getting awfully close to you--enough to invade your personal space. “They’re not here. So we can do whatever we want!”

“I know I’m not the Leader. And I can’t stop you. But we can still preach their good word. They’ve taught us about forgiving our enemies-”

“Yeah, over petty things..not over inflicting a terrible plague unto us!” The other dissenter snarled, their red eyes glowing with hatred. “We suffered so much..I couldn’t keep food down for three. Whole. DAYS!! What if he does it again?! What he targets our elders?! Do you not care about them?!!”

“I care very much!” Your voice was starting to tremble, but you stood your ground. “J-Just leave me alone. The Lamb will not tolerate this--oof!!” 

You were roughly shoved to the ground, the dissenter above you scowling.

“What do they care? We’re just disposable to them..things to throw away once we stop being useful! So what if something bad happens to you..or Kallamar?”

With wide eyes, you stared at the pair, before gritting your teeth. “You’re liars. Lamb approves of us, so why don’t you?!”

“Because falling in love with a bishop is taboo!! It should be considered heresy!” The dissenter who pushed you grabbed a rock. “He’s a heretic, and so are you...and heretics deserve to be stoned.”

Now you were utterly terrified as you tried shuffling away. “P-Please..don’t do this..”

“We show no mercy to heretics here-!”

“S-STOP THAT AT ONCE!!!”

Surprised, the pair looked to see a furious Kallamar standing there. His eyes were pitch black, save for his cross-shaped pupils that glowed bright.

Yet they only laughed and decided that he would be the first to get stoned, and they chucked the rock at him-

Only to see a black skeletal hand emerge from his robe and catch it, followed by another hand...and then two more. The stone was crushed into bits as he stalked towards the duo, before grabbing them both by the throats.

“I don’t care if you think of me as your enemy still. You can push me around all you desire..but if you dare a hand or stone on my beloved again, I’ll cast an illness upon you so horrible that you’ll BEG for death to come take you!! UNDERSTOOD?!!”

Realizing they completely underestimated his power, the dissenters nodded. Their eyes almost instantly turned back to normal as he dropped them, watching them run away in tears.

Kallamar smiled in triumph, though upon seeing you he gasped and ran over to help you up. “Are you okay? They didn’t touch you, did they?”

“No, I’m fine..thank you, Kall.” You smiled and kissed his cheek. “My heroic squid still has some of his powers, it seems.”

Bashful, he looked at his skeletal arms, turning them back into his normal ones as he laughed nervously. “Y-Yeah, haha..I wouldn’t call myself a “hero”. I was just..returning the favor after all those times you helped me.”

Only a few moments later, Lamb returned to the cult looking worried. They knew who dissented and arrived to resolve the problem, but they were just working twice as hard on their tasks.

Upon reading their minds, they learned what happened and went over to you and Kallamar. “Did you..stop them from dissenting through fear?”

“I-I did.” The ex-bishop admitted. “They were going to hurt [y/n] and..I-I stepped in. I didn’t mean to scare them that badly-”

“No, no..it’s okay, Kallamar. It’s honestly a headache trying to re-educate some of them. So sometimes fear will do the trick. Thank you.” With a light smile, they blessed him and went on their way.

“C’mon. I’m starving.” You tugged on his hand, while he nodded in agreement and followed Lamb to the cooking fire.

For once, he was glad he could protect you.

[chuuyrr]

omg hi chu can i request on the scarlet witch baby. toji finding out baby fushiguro has a bf ofc knowing mikey is a gang leader asking if hes strong and telling mikey to spar with him? it's okay if u don't want to :)

sano manjiro meets scarlet witch! fushiguro! reader's biological father, fushiguro toji

jujutsu kaisen x reader x tokyo revengers

masterlist of the series

warning(s): possible manga/anime spoilers for jjk, mentions of violence and mentions of scarlet witch's power

omg hi nini, thank you so much for requesting! this is the first time i got a jjk x tokyorev request in a long while, i missed writing for this crossover sm :D ok enough me rambling, happy reading <3 (sorry it took a while to get written down 😭)

sano manjiro, your boyfriend, has learned about your powers as a chaos sorceress or witch, one of which was your capability to ressurect people by transferring their souls that hadn't passed on to the next life yet to bodies you have created. mikey, being mikey, was not that surprised when you told him that you brought your biological father back to life. what surprised him the most, though, was your father's weird request; fushiguro toji wanted to fight him.

when toji learned from gojo about your boyfriend, he was kind of desperate to meet mikey. he hasn't been able to be with his biological daughter, and he comes back to life to find out you're now a teenager and you're dating, meaning toji had a lot to catch up on, especially with the fact that your boyfriend is a gang leader.

you were the one who was nervous instead of mikey. you recalled gojo's first impression and instant disapproval of mikey when he and the others met him. toji might do the same. from the moment he learned about your boyfriend, he hasn't stopped asking you questions. toji wanted to know and meet the guy that his precious baby had fallen for.

what was your boyfriend like?

is he really a gang leader?

how did you two meet?

mikey was unfazed by the tall, muscular man standing behind you when the two finally met in person. the two of them exchanged greetings and handshakes, toji immediately started asking questions, but not before mikey greeted you with a kiss on the cheek and an embrace.

"you must be manjiro, huh?" toji's analytical eyes looked at the short blonde from head to toe. "[name]'s boyfriend."

"you can call me, mikey, sir." mikey smiled at him, glancing up at him in return.

"so, i've heard you're a gang leader." toji began, folding his arms across his chest. "people call you, the invincible mikey."

"yes, i'm the leader of the tokyo manji gang." mikey simply hummed, nodding his head at toji.

"hmm, are you strong?" toji raised a brow, his tone of voice was almost mocking mikey.

you watched your boyfriend stifle a fit of laughter and cheekily smiled at toji's question, still unfazed by him. "not to brag, but yes. more than capable of protecting [name]-chan over here." he gestured at you with his head.

"i like a guy who has spunk. you're pretty bold for a kid, or gang leader you could say." toji shrugged his shoulders, "on that note, i'd like to spar with you."

"you want to spar with me?" mikey questioned to confirm with a raised brow.

toji simply nodded with a grin plastered on his face. "you heard me, kid. i want you to fight me."

"but.. but, dad!" you cried out in attempt to persuade him, but toji simply ruffled your hair.

"don't worry angel, i'll go easy on him." toji said in reassurance, as if that comforted you at all. your biological dad is about to beat up your boyfriend.

"please, don't. you have my full-consent, sir." of course, mikey is not the type to back down. if anything, he was pretty confident in himself. but you? you were deadass sweating bullets.

though both of them do not possess any cursed energies at all, toji has a heavenly restriction. he was capable of pummeling curses just as he was capable of beating up people. toji wasn't called the sorcerer killer during his prime for nothing. on the other hand, you've seen mikey fight before. sure, your boyfriend was quite the prodigy in martial arts, but this toji is what we were talking about. they were still two different worlds.

"can't the three of us just have coffee and dorayaki?"

"we'll do that after, [name]. if your boyfriend survives, that is."

no matter what you did, your biological father and boyfriend were persistent on sparring against each other. so, here you were, stressfully nibbling on your fingernails as you stood from the side, repeatedly exchanging glances at them. your heart dropped when mikey lunged towards toji, flitting his leg upwards for a high roundhouse kick to the temple at blinding speed but as expected, toji was able to block with a simple raised fist.

toji reacted shortly afterward, delivering a series of jabs and hooks which mikey was able to maneuver and evade almost effortlessly, all the while using his legs to retaliate and fight back. your father was stunned. sano manjiro possessed a prodigious physical condition for his age. not only was he capable of launching devastating "nuclear" kicks that could crush cars and deliver instant KOs to enemies, he had lightning fast reflexes too.

the next scene that took place had your jaw dropping. toji and mikey were now fighting in a blur.

what the fuck was going on?!

you thought to yourself.

even with your keen eyes, you barely caught up with the exchange of fists and kicks. you were more impressed with mikey, however. you've seen him fight taller and stronger delinquents before, but seeing him go head-to-head against your father was another whole level. you never knew your boyfriend had such fighting prowess. maybe it was just toji going easy on him, but the troubled look on his face says otherwise. your father wasn't holding back.

after what seemed like hours, you forcefully stopped the heated fight between them with your chaos magic since you couldn't stand it anymore. toji and mikey started to get too personal, and you weren't letting either of them get their faces clawed or bones broken. mikey was starting to act like the gang leader that he was and toji was fighting like he was going to kill him. their thoughts were starting to flood and get through your head from how loud they were getting.

fortunately, there weren't any passerbys to witness your red psionics when you put them into play.

"alright, that's quite enough! no more reckless fighting! you two!" you scolded your father and boyfriend with a small glare. the two of them stared at your chaos magic with a wonderstruck look as it dissipated into thin air.

"sorry, [name]-chan." mikey first apologized. the terrifying charisma of a delinquent and gang leader had disappeared from mikey and subsided back into a normal, playful, and childish aura instead. "i got lost in the heat of the fight. i have never faced someone like your father before."

"you earned my respect, kid." toji peered down at your boyfriend, finally acknowledging him with a grin and a pat on the head. "you're not too bad yourself."

"you guys were about to kill each other, please don't do that ever again!" you sighed sharply, shaking your head.

both toji and mikey uttered in unison.

"me? kill your father? never!"

"me? kill your boyfriend? never!"

"oh, yeah? your thoughts says otherwise. i'm not the scarlet witch for nothing." you placed a hand on your hip, pointing at your temple and released a small wisp of red psionics for a brief second.

"i'm just making sure that you boyfriend is true to his words." toji reasoned with you, "what's a guy if he can't protect his girlfriend, huh?"

"i don't need protecting, i can handle myself just fine! gosh, you're just like daddy (gojo). stop babying meee." you whined, causing toji to chuckle and mikey to ruffle your hair affectionately.

"you might be your dad's baby, but you're my baby too. curses, sorcerers or not, i'll always protect you [name]." mikey pulled you to his side, draping an arm around you before pressing a kiss on your temple which made you giggle and smile.

"heh, you're really all grown-up [name]." toji stared at you with a long sigh, shaking his head. "you really take after your mother too. it's always the good girls falling for the bad boys."

"bad boys with a good heart that is." you snickered at toji's comment which made mikey grin as well.

"alright, alright. enough with the sappy moment. let's go to a café you lovebirds, and get some dorayaki and coffee." toji shook his head at the two of you, throwing his thumb behind him. "sounds good?"

"mhm!" you nodded happily as mikey nodded his head excitedly, a bit too excited at the fact there was going to be dorayaki.

you walked side by side with mikey, your hands intertwined with his. toji walked from behind, watching how your and mikey's eyes were filled with so much love and happiness for one another.

it almost made him jealous, but he was just as happy as you are. toji was glad that you found someone who treats you well and gives you the love you deserve. just like what toji mentioned earlier, you really do take after your mother. you look just like her, you act just like her, and you've even fallen for someone who's a "bad boy".