#Is it so much to ask of you all to finally be angry at those who truly make our lives miserable? Or are we just going to keep playing cop? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moonselune · 5 hours ago

Note

I loved your Dark characters with daughters!!! What if the girls grew up into teens and finally realized that their mom or dad was not who they seem and started trying to shield their mother? Or better yet! Tried to help their mother escape?

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Dark!BG3 | My Baby, All Grown Up

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For: Conqueror!Minthara, MotherSuperior!Shadowheart, God!Gale, Ascended!Astarion, Naturist!Halsin, GrandDuke!Wyll

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CW: Controlling, manipulation, coercion, injury, forced memory loss, murder

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Conqueror Minthara:

Your daughter had grown into a force of nature, fierce and unyielding, much like her mothers. She carried herself with a grace that was almost predatory, her every movement calculated, her words as sharp and cutting as the daggers she kept hidden beneath her dark robes. She was Minthara’s child in so many ways, with a cool detachment that cloaked her like armor. Yet there was a piece of her, a hidden shard of vulnerability, that she revealed only to you.

It was in the quiet moments you shared—her sharp wit tempered into something softer, her icy demeanor thawing just enough to let you glimpse the girl beneath. She didn’t smile often, but when she did, it was for you, and it carried a sincerity that made your chest ache. Her dark eyes, so much like Minthara’s, would meet yours with an intensity that spoke volumes. She wouldn’t say it aloud—she didn’t have to—but you were her anchor in a world shaped by cruelty and ambition.

But the moment Minthara entered the room, the mask snapped back into place. Snark and ice replaced the quiet sincerity, her tone growing sharp, her body language stiffening. The mother-daughter relationship was a battlefield, each interaction laced with subtle challenges and unspoken rivalries. And then there was the matter of her attempts.

The first time your daughter had tried to assassinate Minthara, it had been clumsy, a pre-teenager’s misguided rebellion—a knife hidden in the folds of her robes, a vial of poison slipped into her wine. Minthara had caught her with ease, of course, but instead of being angry, she had seemed… amused. She’d pinned your daughter to the wall with a flick of her wrist, her voice low and laced with that dangerous sweetness.

“Darling, you must do better than that,” Minthara had purred, a cruel smile curling her lips. “If you’re going to kill me, at least make it interesting.”

Your daughter had spat back a retort, defiance burning in her eyes, and Minthara had laughed—a genuine, delighted laugh. It had only emboldened her, and the attempts continued, each one more elaborate than the last. Traps, spells, blades—your daughter had an arsenal of ideas and an unshakable determination. Minthara, infuriatingly, found it endearing. She would dodge a poisoned dart or dismantle a trap with casual ease, turning to you with a smirk as if to say, Look at what our child has inherited.

What puzzled Minthara, though, was your daughter’s restraint when it came to you. She never directed her schemes toward you, never plotted against you with the same fervor she reserved for Minthara.

“She knows better,” Minthara said one evening, her tone light but her gaze calculating. “Even being my daughter wouldn’t save her from the hell I’d unleash if she dared to harm you.”

You didn’t answer, though you suspected it wasn’t just fear that held your daughter back. She didn’t wear her heart on her sleeve, but in those rare, unguarded moments with you, you saw the depth of her affection, the unspoken gratitude she carried for you. You had been her sanctuary, her guiding hand in a life that was anything but gentle.

One evening, as you sat alone with her in the quiet of the garden, she reached out, her hand brushing against yours. The gesture was brief, almost hesitant, but the sincerity in her eyes was unmistakable.

“Do you regret it?” she asked softly, her voice lacking its usual edge.

“Regret what?” you asked, tilting your head.

“This,” she gestured around vaguely, though you knew she meant the life you had built with Minthara, the choices that had led to her existence.

You smiled faintly, squeezing her hand.

“Never,” you said, your voice firm. “Not for a second.”

For a moment, her mask slipped entirely, and she looked at you not as the fierce young woman she had become but as the little girl who used to run to you with flowers in her hands and joy in her eyes. Then, with a sigh, she stood, her usual armor falling back into place as the faintest smile tugged at her lips.

“You’re insufferablely emotional mother,” she said, though her tone held no real bite.

“Oh and you love me for it,” you replied, watching her retreat back toward the estate.

Later, when Minthara found herself dodging yet another assassination attempt—a dagger flung with precision that nearly grazed her cheek—she sighed, shaking her head in mock exasperation.

“I swear, one of these days, she’s going to succeed,” Minthara said to you, a glint of pride in her crimson eyes. And you could only hope she was right.

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Mother Superior Shadowheart:

The daughter you and Shadowheart had raised had grown into a remarkable young woman, exuding grace, power, and a dangerous charm that made her every inch the heir to the Mother Superior. She embraced her lineage with open arms, lavishing in the privilege and authority that came with being Shadowheart’s daughter. She wore her Sharran black with pride, her voice commanding in the temple halls, and her laughter silken and soft when you indulged her whims.

Despite the grim and devout path of Shar’s teachings, you and Shadowheart had never been able to deny her anything. You spoiled her—Shadowheart in ways subtle yet meaningful, offering gifts imbued with dark magic or private lessons in shadow manipulation, and you with open affection, soft words, and gentle indulgences that weren’t always aligned with Sharran discipline.

“She’s still your daughter,” you’d argue when Shadowheart raised an eyebrow at your more doting tendencies, and Shadowheart would relent with a sigh, brushing a hand over her daughter’s hair. “Even Shar understands the strength of love,” she would murmur, a rare, almost wistful softness in her voice.

For her part, your daughter adored you both. She worshipped Shadowheart for her strength and cunning, aspiring to one day fill her role as Mother Superior with equal fervor. But she also loved you, the way you balanced the darkness of her upbringing with warmth and tenderness that sometimes made her question her path.

But then she began to notice something. A fracture in the otherwise perfect picture of your family.

It started small—little moments where you seemed confused, where you laughed at stories Shadowheart told as though you were hearing them for the first time, even though they’d happened just days before. Your daughter dismissed it at first, chalking it up to the distractions of a chaotic life. But then she overheard the argument.

It was late, the temple quiet except for the murmurs of shadowed prayers. She had been walking past Shadowheart’s chambers when she heard raised voices inside. Your voice was strained, confused, tinged with hurt.

“You can’t keep doing this to me, Shadowheart,” you said. “I know something’s wrong. I feel it—like there are pieces missing, gaps I can’t explain. Why won’t you just tell me what you’re hiding?”

“I am protecting you,” Shadowheart snapped, her voice cutting. “There are things you don’t need to remember, things that would only hurt you. Why can’t you trust me to do what’s best for you—for us?”

“Because I don’t even know what I’m trusting anymore!” you shot back, your voice breaking. “How many times have we had this argument? Will I even remember it tomorrow?”

Silence followed, thick and suffocating, and your daughter froze outside the door, her heart pounding.

The next day, when she approached you, she tread carefully, her usual confidence shaken.

“Are you okay, Mama?” she asked, her voice soft.

You looked at her, your head tilting in confusion. “Of course, my love. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Her stomach twisted. “You and Mother… You had a fight last night.”

Your expression grew even more puzzled.

“We didn’t argue,” you said firmly, though there was a flicker of uncertainty in your eyes. “Shadowheart and I never argue.”

That was when she knew.

Her confrontation with Shadowheart came later, in the stillness of the inner sanctum.

“You’ve been wiping her memories,” she accused, her voice shaking with anger.

Shadowheart didn’t flinch, her gaze steady. “You don’t understand. I’m doing this for her own good.”

“Her good?” Your daughter’s voice rose, her fists clenched at her sides. “She’s my mother, and you’re stealing her from me. From herself. You’re lying to her, to me—how is that for her good?”

Shadowheart stepped closer, her expression calm but unyielding. “There are things she doesn’t need to carry, things that would only hurt her. I do what is necessary to keep her happy, to keep her safe.”

“No,” your daughter said, her voice trembling with rage. “You’re doing what’s necessary to keep control. You don’t want her to leave, to see what you’ve done to her. Well, I’m leaving. And I’m taking her with me.”

Shadowheart’s expression darkened, a flicker of sadness crossing her face before it hardened into resolve. “No, you won’t.”

She raised a hand, her magic lacing the air with shadows, and the chamber doors slammed shut.

Your daughter’s breath hitched, her heart racing as she backed away. “Mother, don’t—please. You don’t have to do this.”

Shadowheart stepped forward, her voice soft but unrelenting. “This won’t hurt, my love. I promise.”

The spell was quick, tendrils of shadow wrapping around your daughter’s mind as she screamed, clawing at the air.

“Don’t do this! Please!” she cried, tears streaming down her face. Shadowheart hesitated for the briefest of moments, her face twisting with pain, but then she finished the incantation. The screaming stopped, your daughter’s body going limp as she fell to her knees.

When she looked up, her eyes were glassy, her expression blank. Shadowheart knelt before her, cradling her face in her hands.

“There, my love” she murmured, brushing a tear from her daughter’s cheek. “Everything is as it should be.”

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God of Ambition Gale:

The tower that had become your home in Gale's realm shimmered with arcane energy, a perfect encapsulation of his brilliance and ambition. It was also where your daughter, a godlette coming into her own, often found herself at odds with her father. She was a being of power and promise, radiant and sharp-edged, but Gale’s constant expectations of perfection had begun to weigh heavily on her.

Their arguments had grown more frequent, louder, and harsher. Tonight was no different.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just focus!” Gale’s voice echoed through the study, his tone sharp and laced with frustration. “You’re capable of so much more, but you squander your potential!”

Your daughter, standing tall and defiant, crossed her arms and glared at him.

“I’m trying,” she snapped, her voice trembling with restrained emotion. “But nothing is ever good enough for you, is it? I’m not some project for you to perfect, Father.”

Gale pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing deeply. “If you would just—”

“Just what?” she interrupted, her voice rising. “Be more like Mother? Is that it? You’ve said it before, haven’t you? ‘Why can’t you be more like her?’” She mocked his tone, her sharp words cutting the air.

Gale froze, caught off guard, and you stepped into the room, sensing the tension about to boil over.

“Don’t bring her into this,” Gale said finally, his voice low but strained.

But your daughter wasn’t finished. “Why not? She’s the only reason I’m still here. Do you even realize how much she gives up for you? For this life? For me? She deserves better than this—better than you!”

Her words were like a dagger to your heart, not because they weren’t true, but because of the raw pain behind them. Gale’s face darkened, a mix of anger and hurt flashing in his eyes.

You stepped between them, your voice calm but firm. “That’s enough.”

Your daughter’s anger faltered, her eyes meeting yours, and you saw the storm of emotions raging within her. You turned to Gale, placing a hand gently on his arm.

“She’s struggling, Gale,” you said softly. “Maybe she needs time away to find herself.”

Gale looked at you, frowning. “You mean send her to the mortal plane?”

“She’s ungrateful, my love, of your benevolence," you said carefully, your words aimed to soothe him, deceive him. “But perhaps some distance would help her grow, to learn what is right, to realise all you do for her."

Your daughter’s eyes widened in shock, her defiance giving way to confusion. “Mother, no! I don’t want to leave you!”

You turned to her, giving her a small, knowing smile, a subtle wink she caught immediately. It was a silent reassurance, a promise that this wasn’t what it seemed.

“It’s for the best,” you said gently, your voice catching slightly as you forced yourself to sound resolute. “You need to realise how much your father does for you, and roughing it out in the mortal plane, making a mortal like life for yourself will do that..”

Gale, latching onto the idea, nodded, his expression softening as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Your mother is right. You have great potential, but perhaps you need to see the world beyond this realm, in order to truly appreciate what me and your mother do for you."

Your daughter looked at you, betrayal flickering across her face, but she held her tongue, trusting your silent message. With a wave of his hand, Gale opened a shimmering portal to the mortal plane, its edges crackling with magic.

“Go,” he said, his tone a mix of command and slight irritation.

She hesitated, turning to you one last time, her voice breaking. “I’ll come back for you, Mother.”

You smiled through the tears threatening to spill, your voice steady as you whispered, “Of course, my love.”

As she stepped through the portal, the energy surged and then disappeared, leaving the room eerily quiet. Gale sighed, sinking into a nearby chair.

“Teenagers,” he muttered, rubbing his temples. “They’re impossible.”

You nodded absently, your heart aching as you turned away, wiping at your eyes when he wasn’t looking. This wasn’t fair to her, to either of you, but it was the only way to give her the freedom she so desperately needed.

Later, as Gale droned on about his own youthful rebellion and how she would surely return wiser, you sat in silence, holding back your tears and hoping your daughter would forgive you for this. You had done it for her, for her future, and for the faint hope that one day, you might find a way to join her in the world beyond Gale’s oppressive and toxic shadow.

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Ascended Astarion:

The Palace’s grand doors slammed open with a dramatic flourish, and your daughter, your pride and headache, stumbled inside, her laughter echoing through the halls. Astarion followed closely behind, his pale face flushed with satisfaction, his movements as graceful and deliberate as always.

Your daughter, on the other hand, was chaos incarnate. Blood streaked her delicate face, smeared across her lips like rouge, and her elegant hunting attire was utterly ruined—torn and splattered crimson. She was practically vibrating with excitement, her fangs glinting as she beamed at you.

“Mother!” she called, her voice high and giddy. She sprinted toward you, throwing herself into your arms with no concern for the mess she was making of your clothes. “It was amazing! You should have seen me!”

You stumbled under her weight, grimacing as the sticky warmth of blood seeped into your dress.

“Careful,” you muttered, though you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm.

“She was marvelous,” Astarion drawled as he sauntered in behind her, wiping a speck of blood from the corner of his mouth with a handkerchief. “Quick, vicious—absolutely poetic.” His smirk deepened as he added, “She truly is her father’s daughter.”

You shot him a look, a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

“And yet she’s absolutely covered in blood,” you said pointedly. “I’ll clean her up.”

Astarion chuckled, clearly unbothered by the carnage.

“As you wish, my love,” he said with a mock bow, already turning to pour himself a glass of fresh blood.

You guided your daughter to the bathing chambers, her chatter filling the air as she recounted every detail of the hunt.

“And then I pounced,” she said, miming the motion with clawed hands, “and he didn’t even see me coming! Father says I’m a natural. Oh, and there was this one spawn—” Her voice lowered conspiratorially. “He begged, Mother. Actually begged! It was pathetic.”

You couldn’t help the small frown that tugged at your lips.

“I thought you weren’t supposed to hunt the spawn,” you said gently.

She waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I didn’t kill him! Father says they’re too useful to waste. But still, it was pathetic.”

You didn’t respond, busying yourself with preparing the bath. Soon, the room filled with the warm scent of lavender, and you ushered her into the steaming water. The crimson streaks began to dissolve, swirling in delicate patterns before disappearing down the drain.

As you gently scrubbed the blood from her hair, she asked suddenly, “Mother, will you ever leave me?”

The question made you pause, your hands stilling in her hair.

“What?” you asked, startled. “Why would you ask something like that?”

She shrugged, leaning back against the tub’s edge.

“You don’t like hunting with us,” she said bluntly. “You’re… nice to the spawn.” She wrinkled her nose in mock disgust before flashing you a teasing grin. “You’re too soft for this life, mother.”

You splashed her playfully, making her squeal.

“Watch it,” you said with a smirk. “I may be soft, but I’m still your mother.”

She giggled, wiping water from her face. “I’m serious, though. You don’t approve of me and Father, do you?”

You sighed, your hands moving to rinse her hair.

“I may not always approve of everything you and your father do,” you admitted, your tone gentle. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t love you. I love you more than anything, my darling.”

Her expression softened, and for a moment, she looked more like the little girl who used to climb into your lap than the blood-drenched huntress she was growing into.

“Do you love Father?” she asked quietly.

The question made your heart ache. You hesitated, searching for the right words.

“In my own way,” you said finally, your voice soft.

She tilted her head, studying you with those sharp, curious eyes that reminded you so much of Astarion. “So you’re not going to leave us?”

You leaned forward, cupping her face in your hands.

“Only death could ever separate me from you,” you said firmly. “I love you more than anything in this world.”

She seemed to relax at that, her usual confidence returning as she leaned back in the tub with a contented sigh.

“Good,” she said. “Because I’d miss you if you left. Even if you are softer than a marshmallow.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. By the time you finished cleaning her up, she was practically glowing, her earlier bloodlust replaced with a quiet affection that she reserved only for you.

When you returned her to the grand hall, Astarion raised an eyebrow at her clean and polished appearance.

“Oh, look at you,” he teased. “All scrubbed up like a proper little vampiric princess.”

She smirked, her usual fire returning as she retorted, “Still just as vicious as you, Father.”

Astarion laughed, pulling her into a quick embrace before turning to you with a knowing smile.

“You’ve done well with her,” he said softly, his eyes gleaming with pride.

As you watched the two of them together, you couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of peace. For all the chaos and darkness that surrounded your lives, your love for your daughter was an unshakable constant—one that even eternity couldn’t take away.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Naturist Halsin:

The sunlight filtered gently through the dense canopy of the forest as you knelt beside your daughter, weaving wildflowers into a crown. She sat cross-legged on the soft moss, her delicate fingers threading blossoms together. Wherever she touched, the forest seemed to bloom brighter, as if the earth itself responded to her gentle spirit. She radiated a calm, innocent joy that made your heart ache with pride.

“Do you think the daisies or the violets should go next, Mother?” she asked, holding up a small cluster of flowers with a thoughtful expression.

“Daisies,” you said with a smile, tucking a stray strand of her hair behind her ear. “They suit you best.”

She giggled, her voice as light and carefree as birdsong, but the moment was shattered by the sound of boots crunching against fallen leaves.

You turned quickly, your body tense, as a group of Harpers emerged from the shadows. Their faces were hard, their bows drawn and arrows notched, all aimed directly at you.

“Don’t move,” one of them ordered, his voice cold and commanding. “You’re from Halsin’s grove, aren’t you? One of the extremists.”

You immediately raised your hands, your breath catching. Beside you, your daughter froze, her bright eyes wide with fear. Then, with a soft whimper, she threw herself into your arms, clinging to you desperately.

“Mother, what do we do?” she whispered, her voice trembling. You held her close, your heart pounding.

“Stay calm,” you murmured, your voice steady despite the rising panic. Then, louder, you said to the Harpers, “We mean you no harm. We’re here in peace.”

The leader of the group sneered. “Peace? Don’t make me laugh. Your grove doesn’t know the meaning of the word.”

Before you could respond, a deep, guttural growl rumbled through the forest, making the earth beneath your feet vibrate. The Harpers faltered, their gazes darting toward the sound.

And then he appeared. Halsin, in his massive bear form, burst from the undergrowth with a roar that echoed through the trees. The Harpers barely had time to react before he lunged at them, tearing into their ranks with brutal efficiency.

Your daughter screamed, burying her face in your chest as the air filled with the sickening sounds of claws tearing through flesh and the anguished cries of the dying. You wrapped your arms around her tightly, shielding her as best you could from the carnage.

“Hush, my love,” you whispered, stroking her hair as she sobbed. “Don’t look. It’ll be over soon.”

But even as you tried to comfort her, your own heart ached at the violence unfolding before you.

When only a few Harpers remained, Halsin shifted back into his Elven form, his face and hands stained with blood. He didn’t hesitate, raising his hands to summon the earth itself against his enemies. Vines erupted from the ground, sharp and thorny, wrapping around the last of the Harpers. Their screams were short-lived as the vines tightened, their sharp thorns piercing through armor and flesh alike.

Finally, the forest grew silent once more. Halsin turned to you, his eyes softening as he rushed over.

“Are you hurt?” he asked, his voice low and full of concern.

His gaze shifted to your daughter, who was trembling violently in your arms.

“My little flower,” he said gently, crouching down to her level. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”

But she flinched away from him, her tear-streaked face full of horror.

“Safe?” she repeated, her voice breaking. “Father, you—you killed them!”

Halsin’s expression faltered, his brow furrowing. “They would have harmed you,” he said softly. “I couldn’t let that happen.”

Her small hands gripped your tunic tightly as she shook her head.

“They were people,” she said, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and despair. “You didn’t have to do that. You didn’t have to—”

Halsin’s face hardened slightly, though there was still sorrow in his eyes. “They would have hurt your mother. They would have hurt you,” he said firmly. “What I did was necessary.”

Your daughter sobbed harder, her head burying against you as if to block out her father’s voice.

“It wasn’t necessary,” she choked out. “It was horrible.”

Halsin stood then, his voice steady but unyielding. “Horrible, yes. But too much of a mercy for them. They dared to threaten my family. If I had to, I would do it again.”

You felt her body tense at his words, her sobs growing quieter but more anguished. You kissed the top of her head, murmuring softly to her, trying to comfort her in the only way you knew how.

“Halsin,” you said, your voice quiet but edged with pain. “Give her a moment.”

For a long time, he stood there, watching the two of you with an unreadable expression. Then he nodded, stepping back into the shadows of the forest, leaving you alone to comfort your daughter.

In that moment, you knew something had shifted—something fragile and precious had cracked between her and her father, leaving wounds that might never fully heal.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

Grand Duke Wyll:

The evening had started like many others in Wyll’s grand estate, cloaked in the kind of uneasy opulence that you had grown accustomed to. Your daughter had stormed out earlier after the latest in a series of Wyll’s ruthless decisions—this time, the casual execution of her tutor, a man guilty only of showing you the kindness of conversation. Wyll had called it a necessary act to preserve the family’s honor, his tone dismissive as though such cruelty were as natural as breathing.

The front doors creaked open, and your daughter returned, her wild curls damp from the misty night air and her eyes blazing with determination. Her steps echoed in the grand hall as she approached, her face a mix of sorrow and defiance.

“I visited his family,” she announced, her voice steady but sharp. “I apologized to them for what you did. And I gave them money to help. It won’t bring him back, but it’s the least I could do.”

Wyll, seated comfortably in his high-backed chair, barely glanced up from his glass of wine. He waved a hand dismissively. “Dramatic as ever, little one. You’ll grow out of it.”

That was when she snapped.

“No, Father, I won’t!” she shouted, stepping closer. “I’m done with this—done with you. I’m leaving. And I’m taking Mother with me. We’re going far away from here. Away from you.”

The room fell silent except for the crackling fire in the hearth. Wyll set his glass down and tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. Then, to your horror, he began to laugh.

Your daughter’s hand clenched into fists at her sides, her jaw tight as she stood her ground. You flashed her a warning look, silently pleading for her not to push him further. But she didn’t back down.

“I mean it,” she said, her voice cold and resolute. She stepped closer to you, extending her hand. “Come on, Mother. We’re leaving. You don’t have to stay here with him anymore.”

Wyll rose to his feet, his imposing frame casting long shadows across the room.

“Your little rebellion is adorable,” he said, his voice low and mocking. “But let me make one thing clear: if you ever tried to leave, I’d have you locked in this estate before you even reached the gates. And as for taking your mother—”

Before he could finish, the air in the room shifted, and with a crackle of flames, Mizora appeared. Her scarlet eyes gleamed with amusement as she surveyed the scene.

“What do you want?” Wyll snapped, his voice dripping with disdain. “I’ve no use for you anymore.”

Mizora smirked, brushing a lock of fiery hair from her face. “Oh, I’m not here for you, darling,” she purred. “I’ve got a new pet now.”

It took only a moment for the realization to dawn, and when it did, your heart dropped. Your daughter stepped forward, her chin held high as Mizora draped an almost affectionate arm around her shoulders.

“You made a pact with her?” Wyll roared, his fury shaking the room.

Your daughter didn’t flinch. She ignored him entirely, reaching for your hand. “Come with me, Mother. Please.”

Wyll lunged toward you both, but in an instant, the three of you were gone, the oppressive weight of the estate replaced by the cool night air.

When you opened your eyes, you found yourselves standing in a clearing far from Baldur’s Gate. The stars above seemed brighter, their light untainted by the city’s smog. Mizora clapped her hands together, a wide grin on her face.

“Well, wasn’t that just delightful?” she said, her voice practically dripping with glee. “Welcome to your new life, darlings.”

Your daughter turned to you, her defiant mask slipping as emotion overtook her. You pulled her into your arms, holding her tightly.

“Why?” you whispered, your voice breaking. “Why would you do this, my darling girl?”

She pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, her own filled with tears. “Because of you, Mother. The only reason I’ve stayed alive in that place is because of you. I couldn’t watch you suffer anymore. If this is the price for your freedom, then it’s worth it. A hundred times over.”

You held her even tighter, your tears mingling with hers as you whispered promises of gratitude and love. Mizora watched the two of you with an amused smile, clearly savoring her victory. To have taken everything from Wyll, his daughter and consequently you - oh it was a victory worth savouring. This was going to such good fun.

─── ⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅ ───

A Birthday treat for y'all. I cannot tell you how many times I rewrote this - not because I was struggling with ideas, but because I had so many. Halsin's, at one point, became a mini-series I swear. Anyway I hope you guys enjoyed this, happy holidays! -Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

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alisonkittredge · 1 day ago

Text

BG3 Headcanons Nobody Asked For.

Part 1: Sleep.

Staring up at my ceiling waiting to sleep made me ask, "How do the companions realistically sleep?" Thank you insomnia for the inspiration.

Gale:

He has to be comfy. He's particular about his pillows and will be very angry if someone "borrows" HIS pillow. (Karlach and Astarion thinks his reaction is funny and will steal it, likely giving it to Lae'zel who has no idea how it got in her tent and insists AGAIN it wasn't her)

It takes him a while to fall asleep, he's a canon overthinker and what better time than alone, pent up, in a tent.

Speaking of pent up, he is likely to wank off to help sleep. It's science. (Is thinking of tav)

Tosses slightly in REM or at the beginning, eventually stays pretty much in the same position all night.

On particularly stressful days/nights, he sleep talks. You could have full conversations with him, even if they are whacko and hilarious (Shadowheart loves to mess with this). He also says funny gimmicks in his sleep like his "By Algeron's nose!" quite loudly. It does wake camp and will start with others messing with him.

He has a tendency to early to sleep, early to rise, UNLESS he has found himself caught up in a recent hyperfixation where he will be up all night and crash at daybreak. His sleep will be much different and he crashes on his stomach, drooling a lot.

Most common position is one leg straight, the other slightly bent (almost making the 4 pose), hand on either side of his chest, unintentionally touching the orb.

Has a magical alarm set the to same time every morning. He gets up promptly and is a bit peeved by those who seem to "Dilly Dally" (because he says shit like that unironically) in the mornings.

Karlach:

Almost complete opposite of Gale. The girl's got ADHD as canon so IYKYK. If you don't *Let me describe it to you*:

She crashes. Girl can be asleep in under 20 minutes and can do it in almost any conditions. Had to learn to sleep wherever chasing devils in the hells. She rocks out and goes down hard.

Tosses and turns all night. Full on starfish queen. Always starts the morning with "Gods I was so cold last night". Likely because she kicked off all her covers at hour 2.

Sleeps hard. Doesn't wake up for anything. Zariel's entire entourage could show up at 2AM and she would have to be woken up.

She has 2 modes: #1) falls asleep before dinner because she just wanted a "nap", wakes at 4am for a snack and falls back to sleep. #2) She stays up talking until everyone is going to bed, even staying up to talk with whoever is on first watch and finally crashing when the second shift gets up.

It takes her forever to get out of bed. Everyone could be up and nearly ready to go and it takes the smell of food or someone nudging her to get her to start. Even if she does wake up, she takes forever to get ready or even off her bedroll. If the group wants to leave in a timely manner, someone has to get her up early (usually Gale because being late makes him angyyy. Also Lae'zel is very punctual but refuses to wake Karlach because "she needs to learn to do it on her own")

She is super groggy when she gets up. Will not talk to anyone.

Has to hug something: Tav, Clive, a pillow, extra bedroll, Scratch, etc.

Talks in her sleep as well, but hers are unintelligible. Some words like "Heya" or small phrases can be deciphered, but usually its just loud mumbles. (Cannot hold full on conversation like with Gale)

Vivid dreams. Likes to recount them on travels and tries to figure out if they mean something. They are usually very odd and funny. Though, she does have nightmares of the hells more often than she will admit. Has only admitted such to Astarion, who can relate.

Lae'zel:

Irish exits to bed. Tells no one. If everyone is drinking and she just decides she's tired, she goes to bed. Most don't even realize she's gone for a while.

She sleeps like the dead, but will wake up wide awake. She can be woken up by sound in the middle of the night, but she easily goes back to sleep.

Doesn't move an inch after sleeping. Sleeps on her back hands on her stomach like the dead. Sometimes a leg will shift an inch or so.

She has the perfect internal clock. Has to go to bed around the same time and wakes around the same time naturally. Soldier's hours. She was trained at her creche to sleep and wake at exact times - no exceptions.

The first time she ever slept in was after a night of drinking where she went to bed after her internal clock was ignored. She had a full on panic attack and got very angry that no one woke her, despite everyone being hung over and not waking up early too.

Dreams are vivid, but she doesn't talk about them like Karlach.

Stretches before bed in her tent, trains before breakfast every morning.

If it was her way, everyone would be on her schedule. Hates the differentiation between habits. Used to the organization and tries to repeatedly convince the group that it's the only way they should be doing it. They oblige her for two days, then stop. Karlach is the first to quit. Shadowheart secretly likes the idea of organized wake and sleep times, but will never admit it to Lae'zel.

Shadowheart:

Has to have tea before bed. Convinced herself she won't sleep well without it and now she doesn't. When the group has to make quick camp and she has no time to make it, she is annoyed, but won't say anything about it.

Light sleeper. She will sleep a full night, but wakes up several times. Likes to tell the one on watch it's because she wants to check on them, but in reality, she woke up having to pee. Like every night. And because they were likely too loud doing something to keep themselves awake and it woke her up.

She sleeps like a normal person would (is anyone normal? I guess I mean what statically people have a tendency to do...). She tosses a little in REM and then stills. Side sleeper. She also snores when she is really tired, and it can wake herself up. Once Astarion called her out for snoring and she vehemently denied it, but she knew it was likely true. She's really self conscious about it.

Though she loves Tav, she doesn't love sharing a tent. She grew up sharing everything with initiates and having her own space for once is nice. She will snuggle for a few minutes then tell Tav they're a little hot and scoot away. Not even a foot touch. Girl needs her space.

Despite needing space the exceptions to this are Scratch and the Owlbear. She has to have them in her tent. She will bribe then away from other companions because she won't sleep without them. (HC is in her playthrough she romances Halsin and will sleep next to him as a bear, when she can change into her lycanthropic wolf form, she might sleep that way next to him too.)

Wakes up as soon as she hears people about, usually right after Gale and Lae'zel. Hates that Lae'zel likes to be the group alarm clock by using her sharpening stone to wake everyone up. She did try to call Lae'zel out on it, but Lae'zel just shrugged and told her everyone should be up by sunrise anyway. She is secretly thankful even if it's the most annoying noise ever because she would just sleep in if Lae'zel didn't.

Wyll:

He likes to stay up late and wakes up only when breakfast is ready. Not as bad as Karlach.

He is usually the one to take first watch, so he can stay up and read his erotica, take a private bath (he's got a routine), dance alone, train, have a drink, etc. Have "me" time.

He sleeps flipping from back to side several times. If he's really tired, he ends up on his stomach. Heavy mouth breather. Knows he is because he will wake up with dry mouth or drool crust. Very insecure about it. Half of avoiding sex with someone is the sleeping over. He thinks he's a bad sleeper. He's not that bad. One time someone called him out on it, has been embarrassed ever since.

Dreams of falling asleep snuggling with Tav, but in practice, it kind of annoys him and they keep him awake. Used to his own routines.

Has to have water nearby. Will wake up with dry mouth and chug it.

Has dreams, but rarely remembers them.

Won't really talk to anyone until he's had tea, coffee, or food. Gale makes him super annoyed in the mornings because he wants to talk immediately.

Halsin:

Can stay up late and rise early. Will often be found talking to Karlach well into the night.

Has a tent, rarely uses it. Can fall asleep by the fire with people talking nearby or even someone up on watch. Will move his sleep spot to places just outside of camp to get more of a "falls asleep under the stars" feel. Can sleep without a bedroll if he wanted.

Naturally warm (werebear HC all the way), he doesn't often need a blanket, let alone clothes. Will skip clothes when he's outside of camp or in his tent. Wishes the companions were more "open minded" about the benefits of sleeping nude.

When not asleep in camp where he can be seen, will definitely, almost every time, wank off to sleep. It's natural! If he's got Tav, he will respect their no, but will always ask for a romp before bed.

He reveries peacefully, even if he's having "nightmares". No one would know if they looked at him that he was reliving the day his archdruid mentor died. He won't burden anyone with it either.

Big cuddler. Likes cuddling before reverie if Tav is willing. Or even if on of the companions are. Doesn't have to lead to anything, a cuddle is a cuddle.

Wakes with the sun everyday. Stretches and takes a walk within minutes of waking. Sun in the first 10 minutes kind of guy. (He would love Andrew Huberman)

Will want to talk as soon as he wakes up too, to Wyll's chagrin.

Minthara:

Has shit reverie. Super light sleeper most nights, where she can't say she got much sleep. Then once or twice a month she will crash. Will sleep like Karlach and not wake for anything.

DO NOT WAKE HER UP SHE WILL HURT YOU (only verbally if you're lucky, there is a literal knife under her pillow).

Even if she has sleep issues, she insists on an image of "early to sleep, early to rise". She sees herself in a secret camaraderie with Lae'zel. She won't admit she wants Lae'zel to give her approval, but she smiles and nods at her every morning.

Eternal eye bags, but pretends they aren't there. She is gorgeous and she knows it.

Nightmares about her life in Menzoberranzan or memories of the love of her life alive are the regulars on the menu, though after a few months with the companions, she starts having reveries about Karlach in battle... a lot.

Knows she should take a shift of watch and would be the best candidate for it, but won't do it unless someone asks.

Doesn't move in her sleep and if she wakes up, she moves as fast as a spider when you try to catch it. So, once again: DO NOT WAKE HER UP.

Doesn't talk to anyone until everyone has eaten, even if she is wide awake. She hates talking to people in the morning, unless you're Tav... or Karlach (but as previously mentioned, Karlach doesn't wake until breakfast and doesn't talk until breakfast, so it's her dreams come true.)

Astarion:

Left him for last becasue talking about the causes of CPTSD on sleep can be heartbreaking and complicated. I'm thankful I don't often relive memories in my dreams, but I know many who do. And he sure does.

He has broken reverie, not just shit reverie like Minthara. Minthy still reveries. He dreams/reveries together. He can't tell what is a memory and what is a dream anymore. His memories have been so rewritten, he doesn't believe he actually remembers anything properly, let alone his life before Cazador. He considers anything that comes up from back then to be a fantasy his mind made up.

It takes him forever to fall asleep and he wakes up easily. He is getting only a few hours each night. Spends a lot of time staring up at the tent ceiling or secretly watching the first watch until his turn at second. Is very often on either first or second watch.

Knows a lot about how the rest of the companions sleep. You can just assume he took these notes that I'm now recording for you.

He has no real sleep routine because he thinks they don't work and is frustrated by them even though Gale insists he keep trying.

Even when he's tired, exhausted, body ready to pass out, his mind is awake. He will still just lay there. Chronic insomnia.

When he has Tav's blood for the first time, it is the first time he has a full night reverie in centuries. It's not even scary memories, but rather sad mundane ones (would be sad and traumatic to anyone else, but traumatic for him is much more intense obvs).

By canon will have severe nightmares when too hungry.

Usually has to hunt before bed if Tav (or another companion) doesn't give him blood (HC is that Halsin is one of the only other willing to share). Gets excess anxiety out, but also feeding helps him get at least to sleep, eventually. Nights he doesn't he pulls all nighters or ends up having very short, nightmare induced reveries.

If Tav sleeps next to him, he sleeps a tad bit better, but is extremely nervous his insomnia will keep them up. First few times lies there just listening to them sleep.

Will pretend to "wake up" after others have gotten up, but has been up for hours already. Is the actual first one up even if no one else knows. Often takes a walk in the early light (Has seen Halsin sleeping butt naked and has considered waking the bear with a special "treat"). But usually uses the time to feel the sun on his skin and wade in the river alone.

Thank you for enjoying my very detailed mindless imaginings.

#bg3 companions #minthara baenre #halsin #karlach #astarion #gale dekarios #laezel #wyll ravengard #shadowheart #insomniac thoughts #cptsd #I love these guys #bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 headcanons

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ateez-himari · 1 day ago

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Hi bb!!! I've officially finished my exams and I have a holiday break so I'm feeling happy!!! I saw another anonie sending asks so now I have to up my game 😌(jk)

I had some questionssss

-Has hima ever been an mc on mubank before? and if so who was her partner/s

-I was rewatching teez's performance on MMA and I was wondering if the fans cheered really loudly when mingri's part came

-How do the stylist like to dress hima up? Taking in consideration that she's the only female idol in KQ plus in ateez they probably doll her up

-idk if this is weird but I feel like mingi and hima probably don't give a f anymore about their closeness after becoming publin and I'm talking about shamless glances and smirks

-would hima rather know what the future's holding for her or go back in time and change something in her past

-can I request so soft mingri moments I'm in my feels because of the weather🥹🥹

Ily so much bb, take care and eat well mwahh!! 💓💓

Hi sweet!! Congratulations, now you can finally get some more than deserved rest!! 😘 I actually still have one ask to answer from that anon but i got writer's block for it 😭(ANON IF YOU'RE SEEING THIS I'M WORKING ON IT DON'T WORRY!!)

• Our little social butterfly was an easy choice for Music Bank and they paired her with Sunwoo from THE BOYZ since both have a similar outgoing personality (it was also after Kingdom : Legendary War so it seemed like a natural pairing)

• Oh definitely! So many Atiny have been talking about wanting to see that part live so they were screaming their lungs out. Since it's a big award show they didn't kiss but Mingi took her chin in his hands and turned her face back to him, making her lose the stage demon facade for a second because she was so flustered

• Hima has had several stylists since debut - the first stylist respected the maknae's wishes and dressed her the exact same as the members (she left after becoming pregnant). The second would put more feminine spins on the outfits but they were still a lot more masculine than other girl groups (she was fired following Kingdom as she forced the maknae to show her scars). The current stylist is fully leaning into her charm, at times making her look more tomboy-ish but still keeping her delicate image, other times making the outfits are fully feminine. As Hima got older she's also begun to dress her in more chic clothing, enhancing her maturity without making her seem too old

Her favorite events to dress Hima for are award shows or concert encores because she can put her in dresses, cute shirts, legwarmers, put cute accessories in her hair, etc., (she loves dressing her up like a cute little doll). She gets kind of sad during Versace events because it's often the house's stylists or Donatella herself that dress her so she can't be the one to put her in all those intricate corsets or silky dresses :(

• They really can't find it in themselves to care anymore, there are so may clips from lives where she's sitting on his lap while wearing one of his boxers, she even brushed a hand across his "belt" (guys I swear it was the belt, guys....) during one of their concerts and stuck her tongue out at him while he was left blushing like an idiot. When there's some kind of innuendo these two are the first to look at each other (well actually sometimes it's Wooyoung and Hima and they can't help but to laugh their asses off)

• Hima isn't worried about the future, so she would rather turn back time; she would change the way her younger self viewed the accident. Of course everything was caused by grief, by her young mind being unable to understand everything going on around her, but one day she got angry at Hanzo after he had finally come out of his room to make her food as an apology. Hima had been dealing with so much at the time - solitude, Yoongi's mental health, the hardships of accepting new parents, her hearing disability that made every day more complicated, etc., - so everything blew up on him. The poor girl wasn't angry, she was in distress, she broke down crying and said things like "why did you abandon me ?" "you promised you would always be there when I needed you". If she could go back in time she'd make herself realize that Hanzo was suffering just as much as she was

• Of course you can! After Mingi sent the Fromm messages in which he expressed his intention to marry his girlfriend, she called him down onto the floor and began painting slivers of smoke along his bare arm - unfortunately he let his impulsive thought get the better of him and he smeared paint across her cheeks, which resulted in the two of them play fighting while trying to get as much paint on the other as possible

After Himari sent the Fromm messages revealing she was now studying Brain and Cognitive Science at KU, Mingi was having trouble taking a much needed nap so he pulled her in between his legs (on a bean bag) and she finished her study session tucked against his chest while his head rested on top of her own, sound asleep

At home she often forgets to put her hearing aid back in after a shower so when Mingi approaches her or is in the room, he moves with heavier steps so she can feel the vibrations or sends a series of one letter messages so that her smartwatch will vibrate several times (she learned to take that as a sign), so that she doesn't get startled because she didn't hear him

I always look forward to your asks!! ILYSM too Mina!! Make sure to rest plenty and have lots of fun now that the hardest part of the term is over! MWAHHH take good care of yourself 🥰🩷

#ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez 9th member #ateez extra member #ateez female member #kpop oc #himaask

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fusionsprunt · 6 months ago

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Hunter what the FUCK-

#love this because it's the following reaction to the last ask #this is funny considering 72.7% of 44 people who interacted with the poll considered Hunter worthy of forgiveness. which is around 31 votes #tbf forgiving is one thing but moving on is very different #someone commented on the post saying they would forgive Hunter but would struggle to continue friends/acquaintances with him #and honestly? that's absolutely fair. but yeah you can guess Bee's reaction to the truth wasn't the best one #Hunter is used to her explosive reactions so he kinda expected her to lash out #but worse than that he was met with an utter and deadly silence. B2 never made it clear whether or not she forgave him #on one side all those years of hardwork and friendship sounded like a lie and she struggled to process the weight of it all #on the other side she wasn't the only person affected by his past actions and that infuriated her even more.#a whole civilization was nearly annihilated by Bee's kind - all because Gideon decided to send 'em off to war #the same civilization he's infiltrated under the disguise of a 'rebellious android'#the same civilization they spent years trying to rescue and save. the same civilization she considered family. the closest thing to home #------ now to a more inconsistent and unexplored side of this story...#There's a Certain Event that takes place after this and is very heartbreaking. however I'm not entirely sure if Hunter's told the truth-#-before or after the final conflicts of the story were over #i like to think he waited until the very end to talk to Bee. presuming it was safe enough to do so #It's likely Bee was so hurt and angry that she promised to go back to her Real Home (to her orbit as a comet) and never look back #and that's when- oh boy i talked too much in the tags again!#oh gee! so sorry for rambling #i'll stop here :]#the continuation to this can be found in an illustration i'm working on!! stay tuned!!!!#ok byeee #inbox #fusionsprunt

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sysig · 8 months ago

Photo

Bad time of it, all things considered (Patreon)

#Doodles #SCII #Damned #ZEX #Blood #Just a bit but y'know - Enough #It honestly made me So sad that it took until his canonmates saw it happen that someone /finally/ acknowledged his spontaneous cuts D:#Like I get it it's dark and it's hard to see but his skin just opened up and he made a noise about it! The possible danger!!#And then by that point he's just so used to everyone ignoring it that their concern for him is barely even a factor weh ZEX ;;#Plus it's just a cool effect haha - sudden blood from nothing! Very rich mental movement #At least Max had someone concerned for him about it <3 Not that he could do anything about it but even just the validation of seeing it!#He has enough cuts on him :( Poor tenderized flesh #He gets all crabby from being sore from healing constantly haha :'D Of course he would!#One thing I found very interesting was the scar sidedness :0 Most of the examples in the gallery have his scar and missing eye opposite #But that's not necessarily the case! I actually scoured mid-read and there /are/ a couple instances of matching side!#They're very tiny so I overlooked them upon first viewing hehe ♪ But they're there! It's very interesting to me!#I like the aesthetics of the opposite - probably because I'm more used to it lol - but I can see the appeal and reasoning for the other way #I do honestly enjoy how much is open to interpretation and allowance uwu♪ And what's consistent! Like how it's always his right eye :D #That tracks hehe ♫#Haha his meeting with his delightfully inept counselor - I'm pretty sure I was actually more angry about his supposed injury than he was #He chilled out pretty quickly while I was just - A Scratched Cornea??? The disrespect!!#So happy with his eyebrow expression on that one as well ah <3 #It really does make me curious for how the staff is kept there - they don't /seem/ malicious during the day! But they're also unaware #It's interesting where the lines of reality are between everyone :D Very interesting ♪#Capping off with another song my playlist is looking quite healthy now hehe #Flagpole Sitta is one of those songs that only comes up for me every half dozen years or so but when it Does - phewph #It is /such/ a ZEX song to me now hehe <3 The flirtiness and exasperation - the defeatism even! So many killer lines #I think my favourite is ''I'm not sick but I'm not well'' ask me to read into that I will I'm gonna I'll do it even if you don't ask me lol #So fun to draw those lapses in control the poor dear ♥#The digital reconstruction there was a lot of fun as well actually :D I think I nailed it :3 Pulled around from all over the page! Pleased ♪

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hexastitchimera · 7 months ago

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Genuine observation, no sass and no disrespect, but being someone who is chronically OFFline & an active volunteer/activist for over a decade, and seeing what people say is "crucial discourse" online is... Quite the trip, honestly.

#vee vibrates #I understand that some things are more important to others than they are to me but.#I really need people to understand that sometimes you're better off volunteering at a shelter of ANY kind if you want to commit real change.#Online advocacy is crucial but man am I worried as hell for the kids that don't seem to understand that offline is even moreso.#And being disabled + queer myself I know that it can (and often is) a safety and accessibility issue but zoouniverse.org exists.#That website where you solve history and math quizzes to give rice to impovrished families is online.#Just. Anything that puts this aggressive “”advocacy“” to rest. Ego will be the death of us and we don't need anymore of it.#And if anybody reads this and finds themselves getting upset ask yourself this: Why does this upset me? Do I see myself in this?#Because you'd know that I am speaking out of genuine desperation when I say all of this.#I am not any better than any online activist just because I do a lot of work offline.#I am just so fucking tired of seeing people misdirect their rightful frustrations and fall further prey to the elites' divisive desires.#Is it so much to ask of you all to finally be angry at those who truly make our lives miserable? Or are we just going to keep playing cop?#At the end of the day it's your choice. I cannot force you. However you will grow old one day and look back. Remember that.#I for one don't want to have any regrets about any time I wasted on bigots and trolls and people who have already decided on their opinions.#I want to look back and be grateful for the opportunity to help so many people as many helped me in my direst times of need.#I think that's the difference here. A lot of online folk didn't go through the poverty & severe abuse & bigotry I faced since I was born.#I went through hell and came out kinder in the end because I was at the end of the proverbial whip myself at several points before 16.#But trauma doesn't make you compassionate. You choose to be. And I choose to never repeat the cycle.#The day I do is the day I've lost both my mind and my spirit. I will never repeat my family's & abusers' horrific mistakes.#I will be kinder to a world that needs kindness now more than ever. Even if I scream my throat out forever doing so.#I don't need a voice to be heard.#Anyways sorry. I woke up on the desparate side of the bed. Thank you to all who fight the good fight.#Despite everything I've said I have so much more faith and hope now more than ever. We will prevail.#And thank you if you read all of these tags?? Safety love and solidarity to you you're the MVP. ;_; 💜

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fushitoru · 3 months ago

Text

rainy days and brownies

pairing ⸺ college/modern!au: bf!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you wake up for some soft moments with your boyfriend that involves brownies (turned freaky)

warnings ⸺ smut, tooth rotting fluff, some mild angst?, gojo unfortunately mentions skibidi toilet, I think I made gojo gen z here, boob worship, brownies and baking, established relationship, oral (f!receiving), gojo eats pussy like a champ, NOT EDITED, might be incoherent to everyone except me, product of a forceful effort to escape writer’s block, rainy mornings <3, lots of intimacy, art by 3-aem, probably in the same universe as this

general masterlist

Rainy mornings with Satoru means baking.

It’s a ritual the both of you have fallen into. On a day like this, where the air smells like rain, you blearily wake up from your nap to smell the warm distinct aroma of overly sweet brownies.

The slutty brownies were Satoru’s masterpiece. Even if he did overdo the sugar, you can’t admit that your stomach was growling as you rubbed your bleary eyes and frowned while raking a hand through your head. This bed head was going to be a bitch to untangle with the hairbrush.

“AND IIIIIIIIIIIII, WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUU—“

You jumped, caught off guard by Satoru randomly deciding to pay homage to Whitney Houston. Standing up, you headed towards the living room of you and Satoru’s apartment—-not before you adjusted your tank top so your tits weren’t out and the boy shorts you chose to sleep in properly covered your ass.

“WILL ALWAYS LOVE YOUUUUU—-“ You cringed at Satoru’s attempt of a high note, grumpily looking at him use his chocolate covered spatula as a makeshift mic. He was in the kitchen—-shirtless, of course—-now bending over to peek at the state of his brownies in the oven. Deciding the brownies weren’t done yet, he closed the oven door and stood up once more, reaching for his phone to undoubtedly scroll through TikTok. Continuing to hum different variations of the chorus, he swiped at his phone, ignorant to your presence behind him.

You think he’s kind of sweet like this. If it weren’t for him, the both of you would never be in this position. You would always be the cold frigid bitch he saw in freshman orientation and occasionally at parties across campus, and he would be the sweet, friendly guy that all the girls would continue to fall head over heels for.

To be honest, you don’t really see what he sees in you. You’re like a Disney villain, the witch that entraps him in her webs of insecurity and jealousy, but he remains the valiant prince, fighting to get to you. When he finally has you in his arms, he kisses you into believing that you are his princess instead.

It’s obvious in the way he fought for you—memorizing your schedule, rushing across campus just to walk you to class, pleading with you to grab dinner. And each time, you’d brush him off with sharp rejections, finding excuses to keep him at arm’s length.

But when he finally had you, finally cracked all your defenses—he was never going to let you go. You could see as much; the way he proudly walked on campus with you at his side, across the main quad so he could boast that he got you. You were his, and he was fully, undoubtedly yours. At parties, his eyes would always be on you, raking his eyes up and down your figure in your nurse outfit, conjuring up the hundred and thirty four positions he would fuck you so good in, even if there were prettier girls clinging onto his arms asking for a morsel of his attention. Pettily enough, you would just need to sigh and mumble “This party isn’t fun,” to have Satoru whipped, ushering you out of the frat house while those girls glared at the back of your Halloween costume, angry beyond measure that a nobody like you has the campus sweetheart wrapped around your finger.

Loud booms of the Vine gunshot sound effect snaps you back into the present, where Satoru is snickering at some god awful brain rot. You choose to approach him, wrapping your arms around his waist and smothering your face into his muscular back.

“Hi baby,” you mumble.

“Guess which sleepyhead is awake!” He announces to the world and turns around, and your traitorous heart jumps in its chest while looking into his eyes. It’s stupid. You’re both in your PJs on a morning where the rain thuds against the window pane, blurring both the window and all outside life, suspending you both in this moment. His eyes look affectionately down to you, and he plants a wet kiss on your forehead. “How was your nap, baby?”

“It was good.” You watch him turn around again to peek at the oven, and he hums, upper arm flexing as he grabs the heavy bag of flour, dragging it closer to him. “When’d you get up?”

“Around 7.”

You shoot him a bewildered look as you hop onto the counter, a better space to observe your boyfriend. When he realized that you had woken up, he had left his phone open to give you a kiss, reel playing noises. You peek over and almost snort at what is playing.

“Satoru, why are you watching alligators get chased away by a shovel?”

He looks up from the bowl of brownie batter he was now cleaning—-with his tongue, mind you—-and grins boyishly. “Isn't it crazy how hundreds of years of evolution get destroyed by a shovel?”

”Your feed is not normal,” you shake your head, keeping a stony face as you continue to scroll through his TikTok. In fact, it’s hilarious—-the things he got were weirder than one could dream, with toilets producing heads of men taking over whole cities. You’re not sure what that means about your boyfriend, but you accept it as you watch the nonsensical video.

“Wait,” he makes his way over to you, standing in between your legs. “Is that skibidi toilet?”

“What the hell is that.”

“Baby,” he whines. “You don’t know the lore? I don’t know if I can be with you for any longer.”

Your bite back a grin. “And subjecting me to hours of FNAF backstory wasn’t testament to how much I love you?”

Before he could whine back, you noticed he had some leftover chocolate on the side of his mouth and leaned over to lick it. Humming at the taste, you grabbed his hands and took in his brownie coated index and middle finger into your mouth.

He frowns. “Are you trying to seduce me into forgiving you and giving you more brownies?”

You laugh softly and give him a soft smooch on his shoulder. “No, silly. If I ate any more than half, I would have diabetes.”

He grabs the back of your hips and pulls you closer into him, nuzzling his nose against yours. The physical contact rubs at your nerves the right way, firing off that emotional part of you that makes you think loving him is so easy. How lucky you are that he’s chosen to give you his love.

His god-awful alarm blares—same annoying sound he keeps hitting snooze on for his 7ams—and the moment breaks as he reaches for the oven mitts to pull out the brownies. The aroma hits you instantly, making your mouth water. Satoru blows dramatically on the brownies, pouting and mock-yelling, “Hurry up and cool down! My girlfriend wants to eat you.” You can’t help but giggle. Once Satoru finally decides they’re cool enough, he grabs one and offers it to you. “Make way for the choo-choo train!” he snickers, guiding the brownie through imaginary tracks, a shit-eating grin on his face, before plopping it into your mouth.

You can’t help but let out a soft sigh as the brownie melts on your tongue, its warmth enveloping your senses. Rich, velvety tones of chocolate overwhelm your mouth, with each bite releasing a symphony of deep, indulgent flavors that linger long after the brownie is fully swallowed. “Wow, this is actually good.”

He pauses, brownie and hand held in mid air. “Why do you sound surprised?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug innocently but stick your tongue out to him regardless.

Popping the brownie in his mouth--but not before sending you a pout---he brushes his hands together to remove the brownie crumbs as he makes his way back in between your legs. The way he settles between them makes you all too aware of the heat of his groin encompassing you. He lazily drags his eyes up your figure, but not before settling on your outfit. His eyes then flick down to watch his hands trace the hem of your tank top, and your eyes follow his hands, a little dizzy by the action.

You’re always a bit sensitive in the mornings, and before this day, you and Satoru’s interactions have been limited to a kiss before he runs for his 7am and then doing college work until 3am, where you’re both too tired for anything particularly frisky. So, yea, you are kind of pent up---and judging by the bulge that’s starting to form in Satoru’s sweats, you assume he is too.

You put your elbows on his shoulder blades to give him head scratches from behind and lean towards his jawlines giving small kisses. You can feel him close his eyes, purring silently like a cat, and underneath your hands, his back and shoulder blades tense and relax as you rake your hands over his scalp.

“This new?” He uses his index finger to snap the strap of your tank top against your shoulder, using his mouth to given open mouthed kisses to your collarbone.

“Mhm,” you hum, a little deliriously at that---he’s begun to trail down, mouth working at the swell of your breasts.

He slowly pulls the collar of your tank down, down down down until your breast pops out. His eyes trace the swing urgently and groans. “I missed these, sweet girl.”

You gasp sharply when he puts it in his mouth, tongue swirling around the nipple. Satoru’s always been a boob guy, joking about his hands being your bra to support “those mommy milkers.” Right now, he’s doing just that; groping the hell out of them and giving them kisses, as if they were God’s greatest creation.

As much as you were enjoying your boyfriend’s boob worshipping, you need more. You were throbbing in want of contact on your pussy, and you made sure to relay just that. “Toru, I need more,” you whined.

“God forbid a man appreciate nice boobs.” He rolls his like the sassy man he is and parts with your nipple like lips after a messy and wet make out session. Your breasts are gleaming with his spit, a string connecting your nipple to his lips. He trails his face down your torso, making his way down to his knees until he was facing your crotch.

You whine and clench your thighs together to draw his face closer to the space between your thighs. He looks up at you and coos, giving your inner thigh a kiss. “I can smell you from here, cutie.”

His statement reminds you that you’re not too wet in the mornings. As soon as you wake up, some of your morning sessions with Satoru require the aid of lube to ensure no pain. Irritation flares at you at the thought that you might need to leave your position to grab some l—-

Oh.

“What the hell. I thought you wet your pants,” Satoru giggles. The finger running through your folds glides messily, as you both marvel to how wet you are. You’re also on another plane; you haven’t felt his touch for weeks, and the feeling overwhelms you as the squelches your pussy makes echo throughout the kitchen.

Satoru gives you a kiss on your neck. “Baby, can I?” You deliriously remember that he’s lightly circling his finger around your entrance and when you finally give him the okay, he pushes in.

Both of you groan at how tight you are. “Satoru,” you moan and proceed to bring him in for a kiss as he pistons in and out of your pussy, curling them just the way you like and making you see colors.

“Pretty, pretty girl,” he groans. “Left my baby so pent up.”

At that, all you can do is nod and whimper in agreement. All that leaves your mouth are gasps of his names and oh my god’s because he’s making you feel so good.

And then, you almost scream as you feel him blowing hot air onto your folds, leaning down to give teasing kitten licks around your clit, but not directly on it. His tongue drags up and down until he finally stops it right next to your clit as if feeling the sensation of your pussy throbbing, echoing your fastened heartbeat skin-to-skin while drooling.

Frustrated, you try to move your hips, but Satoru grabs them to stay in place. He’s so close to the place you want him, but he’s stationed in one place, spit flowing down as his tongue is still and his dark eyes are staring at you as if enraptured by your struggling.

“Satoru, please lick my clit,” you moan wantonly, begging for him to change his position.

But Satoru Gojo wouldn’t be Satoru Gojo without some teasing. “What was that, baby? Avoid your clit? You got it.”

“No,” you sobbed, grabbing onto his hair and directing his tongue to your clit. This time, he relents, sucking the bud into his mouth and hollowing his cheeks, making you see stars.

But soon, his quick and fast lapping turn into lazy licks, and you get frustrated, grinding against air and pussy oozing out wetness as Satoru keeps his tongue outstretched in front of you but not close enough to make contact with your skin, teasing. You hate the feeling of your pussy throbbing and the inner thighs and pussy wet with your slick, lacking the sensation you needed to finally climax. “Oh my god, Satoru, please make me cum.”

“I don’t know baby, you sound pretty commanding to me.” The motherfucker shrugs as if he has nothing to do with your dilemma and starts trailing kisses up your inner thigh. His touches were close to where you needed him most, making you ache for the sensation of his wet laps against you.

“Please, baby,” you beg. “You feel so good, you’re making me feel soo good. I love you so much. Please let me cum.” You’re full on sobbing, hips writhing to get any sensation in.

Satoru, at your display, seems to give in, because he’s coming in once more, giving you a sweet little kiss on your clit. You nearly ascend.

He’s diving in, making a rhythm of dipping his tongue into your entrance and coming back to give sloppily wet laps on your clit. It’s when he groans while his tongue is inside, hot air and vibrations needily simulating your clit, that you come up with a gasp. You roll your hips, Satoru giving you little licks to help you ride out your orgasm.

For how hard you came, you’re bucking your hips frantically, body on a mind of its own as you almost fall off the counter. Satoru has to grip your thighs to prevent that potential injury and rubs soothing circles on the outside of your thigh as you pant, wetness and sweat likely painting the counter beneath you. It’s not until your breath returns back to it’s normal pace that you notice Satoru’s head against your thighs, looking up at you with lovesick eyes.

You’re probably giving him the same look back, you realize, given he made you ascend to heaven and back. He gives an affectionate kiss to your mound, moaning corny shit like “Your pussy tastes sweeter than the brownie.”

And then he stands up, knees popping on the way back up, and despite your fucked out state, you can’t help but giggle. “You old man with the popping knee caps.”

He glares at you playfully, but you know his expression too well to know there’s no real offense in it. “Hey. Rude to say that after I just made you cum your brains out.”

”And you’re about to get the same thing,” you purr, putting a hand on his hard-on. He hisses but looks at you with lust blown eyes as he grabs the back of your thighs to carry you to your shared bedroom.

Yes, rainy days do mean baking with Satoru, but not without intimacy with your even sweeter boyfriend in bed.

general masterlist

comment or reblog to let me know your thoughts! I appreciate all of them <3

a/n lol this was a bitch to write. this might be a word soup or salad or whatever for all readers and that’s ok! I’ve written this primarily at 1am so…

eugh ok im going back to writing ch5 of bridgerton!gojo and fixing the em dashes in this post when i wake up LOL

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iiiiiiis-things · 5 months ago

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idk just thinking about how you burst into your home damn near slamming the door shut, only for toji to stop it with the large palm of his hand before he smoothly walks in behind you. you're on 10 right now, stomping and shouting around the house (while your husband follows like a lost puppy) until you make your way to the kitchen yelling something about how it was "totally unnecessary to punch him" honestly toji didn't even know what the hell you were going on about, i mean he wasn't even listening. he silently convinced himself that it wasn't his fault- no it was definitely yours that he couldn't focus on the sweetness of your voice. i mean he just couldn't stop himself from trailing his eyes down to your ass, sinfully watching from his stance at the doorway as it jiggled with each hard step you took. "you can't keep doing this shit man-" your words go in one ear and out the other, again wasn't his fault, he can't help but think about is how fucking sexy you look right now. lace tussled into a slight mess, lip gloss smeared across your puffy lips because of how much you opened your fat ass mouth out of anger, and that dress ? oh that dress is what gotten you in the situation in the first place, the way it hugged your frame perfectly, mapping out each of your curves in all the right ways. had you not wore it like he told you to he wouldn't have had to beat his boss ass for staring at you a little to long. lashes that had been ripped off are still in his car, sitting prettily right on his dashboard, he couldn't care less in fact he was glad you took em off ecstatic even, toji loved to see you natural, toji thought you were so god damn fine

"what ?"

...did he say that out loud ?

"nothin'" he muffled out "are you even listening? see this the shit i'm talking about-"

toji wanted nothing more than to bend you over the kitchen island and shut your big ass mouth with each deep stroke he gave you, dick hitting deep in that gummy area that always turned you into mush whenever he found it, but alas he didn't, he knew you were angry, just didn't know why. aren't you glad he protected you from the preying eyes of his boss ? did it cost him his job ? maybe.. but it doesn't matter because it was all for you, his lovely wife. "here asshole" toji finally snapped out of his head when he felt you shove something against his chest before walking off. noodles ... you made him-

"a cup of noodles ?" he questioned following you out the kitchen "you didn't eat at the party." the scar on his pretty lips decided to rise. oh how sweet you were, even after being so pissed at his possessiveness you still cared enough to make sure he ate before the night was over but there was still one problem.. "you didn't either" "i'm not hungry." once you reach the bottom of the stairs he stops dead in his tracks "baby- where you going ?" "to bed." no hug ? no kiss goodnight ? no invite ? oh he fucked up.

smut! under the cut (18+)

"now do you forgive me?" voice comes muffled from beneath you as you ride out your nth climax of the night your husband had been sucking and licking into you for hours drawing out orgasm after orgasm. and shit were you ovulating? because you just can't get enough. "fuck" you roll you head back in pleasure riding the sweet sensation of his nose repeatedly brushing against your clit

*smack!*

"i asked you a question mama" you moan loudly at the combination of the nickname and his tongue thrusting in and out of you hitting that special spot each time. "y-yes baby" you grind down to match the rhythm of his tongue as he begins to play with the fat of your ass tugging and gripping tightly, encouraging you to move your hips faster "'m sorry baby, so so sorry" his lips wrap around your rednend clit while he stuffs two fingers into you. at this point you were so overstimulated but you just couldn't stop riding his face even if the world was ending. bringing a hand to his hair you push it back unveiling those gorgeous green eyes. toji looks up making eye contact with you, you begin feeling the tension that was building up about to finally burst (again) "i didn't mean to upset you" he wraps his fore arms around your things getting you to grind down even harder against his perfectly fat nose "i-it's okay toj- fuck you're so deep" "i just don't like when other boys stare at you" he couldn't even bring himself to call his boss a man. a man would never violate a women's privacy like that, basically eye fucking her while she's out with her man. you felt everything, every touch, and god you were so hot, moans were leaving your mouth left and right as you felt him continue sucking, his fingers thrusting into you so desperately as if they were asking for forgiveness too.

this was gonna be a longggg night .

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tomboy014 · 1 month ago

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But if Batman won't adopt Danny... who will?

Starfire, and she is all over her new little brother!

Shortly after establishing the Teen Titans, Robin (Dick) introduces “Phantom” to the group, because seriously, he’s not introducing him as “Danny.” Kinda defeats the purpose of a secret identity when you use your name in your superhero moniker. And shows Phantom his room.

Robin’s actual goal is to get Phantom to join the Titans, but even taking short cuts through the Ghost Zone, Jump City is still a good ways away from Amity Park, and he has parents, so… It’s still a nice gesture and all, and Phantom will come visit, but no.

Still, he’s never met other teens who are heroes in their own right like he is, so he’s excited to meet Robin’s new team. The other Titans think it’s a little weird for this not-member to have his own room in the Tower, but the place is huge, and Robin trusts him, so it’s fine. It’s a bit awkward at first as they’re all still getting used to each other, but Phantom quickly makes friends with all of them.

But it’s his friendship with Starfire that grows first and fastest. As soon as he finds out she’s an alien from another planet, he latches on and must know everything. Starfire more than welcomes the attention. While she knows the Titans care for her, they’re not always… receptive to the traditions and customs of her culture. Phantom, on the other hand, is enraptured as she tells him about her culture, her holidays, the planets she’s been to, everything.

So she asks if he’d be interested in learning Tamaranean? Yes! 100%! Absolutely! Phantom picks up the language quickly and returns the favor by helping Starfire with her English. While the ability to absorb language through lips is handy, it’s by no means perfect, and Phantom helps her with things like contractions, slang, idioms, etc.

It also helps that after a couple sparring sessions with each other, Phantom and Starfire realize just how durable their partner is. For Starfire, the people and things on Earth can be so delicate. And for Phantom, if he doesn’t watch himself and hurts a human too badly, it’s just more justification to call him an “evil ghost” that should be ripped apart molecule by molecule. Both are thrilled to finally be able to fight all out again without worrying about the consequences if they lose. And Starfire also uses it to teach Phantom some Tamaranean martial arts for aerial combat so maybe he’ll stop crashing into so many walls.

But what really changes the relationship is the Body Swap incident (not to be confused with the Freaky Friday incident). Similar to what happened with the Puppet King in Switched, Phantom and Starfire switch bodies while fighting an enemy. Unlike what happened in Switched, Phantom and Starfire and two teen powerhouses with green energy powers triggered by emotions. And the emotional triggers they use are in the same ballpark. Starfire’s “unbridled joy of flight” to fly is very similar to how Phantom revels in the pure freedom of flight he feels. Both get angry when they use blasts. It’s very much a “if you believe in it, you can do it” kind of power set. Starfire can’t really figure out Phantom’s more ghostly abilities like invisibility or intangibility, but they very quickly adapt to each other’s shared powers on the fly during battle. But there’s one power Starfire wants to use against the hordes of minions that Phantom won’t share the trigger for: the Ghostly Wail. He tries to tell her it’s not a good move, that it’ll use up too much power, it should only be used as a last resort, it’ll cause too much collateral damage, etc., but Starfire wants to know, and eventually he tells her.

“T-terror… and desperation.”

Starfire rushes to give Phantom the biggest hug ever because those are such horrible feelings, and she doesn’t want to imagine what conditions must have led to him developing such a power because no one should have to feel such feelings. He is right; and that is not a power she needs to use to win this battle. The minions are defeated, the villain is forced into a temporary retreat, and the Teen Titans return to the Tower to regroup and plan.

However, Starfire doesn’t know how to power through and hold onto Phantom’s ghostly form, and as soon as the adrenaline from the fight wears off, rings of white light spread out of her middle, and Phantom turns back into Danny in the middle of the living room.

But more importantly, everyone needs to get out of the way RIGHT NOW because while Phantom can ignore his biological needs for days, Danny can’t, and Starfire has never had to pee this badly ever in her whole life and everyone needs to MOVE, PLEASE! as she rushes into the nearest bathroom.

Phantom/Danny is now panicking, because even as an alien, he’s pretty sure she’s bound to notice that some bits of male anatomy that should be there are… missing. He’s begging her, through the door in Tamaranean, not to tell anyone about his secret. He’s not ready to come out yet, and he’s honestly pretty scared he’s about to lose her friendship, too. Starfire doesn’t really care. So long as you’re a strong warrior, Tamaraneans don’t care what’s going on in someone’s pants, and she’s just relieved she didn’t have to figure out different plumbing while in his body. Starfire opens the door. While she knows that the people of Earth are not always as understanding, Danny need not fear her. She will not tell anyone he's trans until he is ready to tell them himself and supports him and goes in for a hug.

Except you haven’t washed your hands; gross! They both laugh it off, but when Starfire goes to wash her hands, the water freezes. The cold energy in Danny’s core is building, and Starfire doesn’t know how to let it out. They need to switch back to their own bodies soon, or Danny’s body, and Starfire, might not survive. A little more training so Starfire can turn back into Phantom, and the Titans are ready for the final act, take down the final villain and Starfire and Phantom are back in their own bodies.

But after that, Phantom is no longer Starfire’s friend. Danny is her little brother, and she tells him her name is Koriand’r, or Kor’i for short.

<<Prev Next>>

#dpxdc #arkham guard au #arkham guard backstory #trans!danny #danny phantom #starfire #this got long so I'll be splitting it into multiple parts #long post

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ghostedeabha · 1 year ago

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imagine like simon goes into some sort of surgery and has to be put under anesthesia, and when he gets out hes like still high asf on it 💀 and hes being a lil silly goose

okay this is such a cute idea omg, this is 100% based off that tiktok audio where it's like "my wife wouldn't like you touching me like that" "i AM your wife."

thank you so much for the request nonnie, a forehead kiss for you MWAH MWAH

simon 'ghost' riley x reader

wc: 563

warnings: none really, lots and lots of that good ol fluff, mentions of surgery, goofy simon, maybe a little ooc simon (he's high so it's fine)

a/n: i hope this is okay, i'm feeling a bit rusty with my writing but i've finally got back some motivation and energy to do so after the past two months of low energy and bad mental health. if you guys want to know a bit more about it and my mental health (i don't see why anyone would but lmao) let me know, i don't mind making a post about it if you guys want an explanation of some sort or whatever. anywho, sorry this is so short but i hope you still like it!! <3

a/n 2.0: i recently applied for a part time job at a bookstore so y'all pray for me that i get this job because i want it so bad. i am just gonna decide that i WILL get this job, because why wouldn't i?

simon had been out of surgery for just over an hour now, being a soldier you 'd think perhaps he was going under surgery for some kind of wound he had inflicted upon him on the battlefield but no, he was just getting his tonsils removed after a bad bout of tonsillitis ended up with him developing really bad tonsil stones.

so here you were, waiting by his bedside for him to wake up. the doctor and nurses reminded you just as he had gotten out that he may still be a little, well loopy, off of the meds depending on how quickly he woke up. you waited in a chair at his bedside, reading a book when you heard the blankets of the bed rustling just a little.

looking up from your book you see simon starting to wake up and you reach out to grasp his hand, only for him to rip it away from you when his eyes were fully opened.

"uh, si? you okay, hon?" you ask gently, maybe he just wasn't feeling too well after waking up, or perhaps he wasn't wanting physical touch, that happened quite often and you always respected that space he may want when he wanted it.

"don't call me that." simon said, voice hoarse and scratchy from the surgery, he sounded a little angry.

"what?" you questioned, this wasn't like simon, you couldn't understand why he wouldn't want you speaking like this to him.

"i'm taken."

"i know." you replied with a short laugh.

"you should be touching me like that then."

it hit you then, he was woozy from the meds and didn't recognize you. the realization made you laugh a little more. you decided to have a bit of fun with this high version of your boyfriend.

"sorry about that simon. wanna tell me about your partner?"

"oh, (name)? they're amazing, you know they're so pretty. and they're funny too. they always know how to make me feel better, i miss them." simon replies, ranting and raving on and on to you about his partner, about you.

"you love them a lot, don't you?" you ask him with a smile, it felt so nice to hear all these lovely things about yourself, your boyfriend clearly unfiltered by the effects of the anesthesia he was under.

sure he definitely said sweet things to your face, but something about hearing it when he was basically high as shit made your heart pound a little more.

"i love them with my whole heart." simon replies, a goofy little smile on his face.

you can't help but reach out to gently caress his face at those words, body filling up with some much adoration for the soldier in front of you.

"hey! what did i say about touching me. i have a partner!" simon scolds, trying to dodge your touch.

"simon, love... i am your partner. it's me, (name)." you reply with a laugh.

simon takes a good long look at you when you tell him this, he stares at you, looks you up and down before letting out a soft and quiet "oh."

you begin to hear the beeping of his heart rate monitor speed up, his cheeks turning slightly pink as he stares up at you.

you couldn't help but laugh a little more at this. what a sweet idiot. your sweet idiot.

#ghostedéabha #éabha writes #éabha's 💌#ghostedéabha: ghost #ghostedéabha: simon riley #simon ghost riley fluff #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x reader fluff #ghost riley x reader #awnie's amazing nonnies💞

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streetlamp-amber · 5 months ago

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never ending night

bruce wayne x femwife!reader

word count: 1.7k | divider by @saradika | requests are open!

CW: pregnancy, pure fluff NOTES: hello hi i’m ailís and i’ve been meaning to start a blog where i can post some one shots that i’ve been thinking of as a way to motivate myself to finally write down my ideas so this is it. i’ll be double posting my stuff on ao3 (which you can find in my bio) and will eventually make a masterlist as well as a navigation post with a list of fandoms/characters i write for. also, english isn’t my first language.

It was close to three in the morning when Bruce finally joined you in bed after a long night of patrolling and fighting bottom of the barrel criminals all night. He showered in the bathroom on the first floor of the manor to avoid making too much noise and waking you up, but when he finally walked in your shared bedroom, you were already awake, sitting up against the headboard.

“Darling, what are you doing still up?” Bruce asked you as he reached his side of the bed.

The room was dark par for the moonlight filtering through the gap between the curtains, meaning your husband had yet to notice the state you were in.

“Dick had a nightmare,” you answered, voice barely above a whisper due to how tired you were. “It took me two hours to get him to fall back asleep and when I finally came back here, this little one started kickboxing me and keeping me awake for another hour,” you continued rubbing your round belly in hopes of soothing your baby to finally catch some sleep.

“I’m sorry I wasn't here to help,” Bruce apologised, planting a kiss on your temple as he held you close to his body.

“It’s alright, Gotham needs you,” you dismissed, not at all angry.

“Still, you’re six months pregnant. You’re growing our child inside your body, you need all the rest you can get,” he softly argued. “I would've come home earlier but all the amateur criminals came out tonight.”

“Bruce, it’s fine,” you brought your hand up to his cheek and he leaned his head into your touch. “You’ve already been cutting your patrols shorter since we found out about the baby. As long as you keep coming back home to us, alive, then I’m not mad.”

Not knowing what to say – his gratefulness for having someone so accepting of his duty as Batman was almost overwhelming, even after all those years – Bruce kissed your palm while staring at you with the same look full of love that he has been sporting since the first time he met you six years ago.

“How’d I get so lucky to fall in love with the most understanding and selfless person I know?” He asked while grabbing your hand on his cheek, wrapping his fingers around yours and squeezing them gently.

“Now that’s a lie,” you rebutted, a loving smile on your lips, lowering your joined hands on the bed. “You’re more selfless than I am. You’re the most selfless man in the world.”

“Let’s not start this never ending argument again,” Bruce chuckled, now his turn to hold your face as he brought you in for a kiss.

You happily sighed against his lips, the feeling of home that overtook you every time you tasted them was a nice welcome in this interminable night. But the kiss was cut short as you felt your baby kick again and you let your head fall back as you groaned.

“She’s still kicking?” Bruce asked you, he couldn't see the movements under your skin due to the darkness of the room and your hand on your belly.

“We don't know it's a she,” you reminded him instead of answering. You had both decided to wait until the birth to know the gender.

“And I’m telling you, I know it's a girl,” your husband repeated for what could be the hundredth time.

You also secretly hoped it was a girl, but Dick really wanted a little brother. Bruce and you were still in the process of warming him up to the idea of a little sister and it was slowly starting to work.

“As long as she doesn't come in my room,” your eight year old son had said last week, with his arms crossed over his chest and a pout on his lips.

“I doubt she’ll be doing that for the first few years, chum,” Bruce reassured him, fighting off a slightly amused grin.

“And the baby will have its own room with its own toys,” you added.

“Will I still be able to play with the baby?” Dick asked after a moment, uncrossing his arms and a hopeful look filling up his blue eyes.

“Of course you will, bubs,” you said, your fingers threading through his black hair that fell over his forehead.

“But only with her toys at first, some of yours are not suited for a baby,” Bruce pointed out, ever the overprotective father.

Bruce had lowered himself down under the blanket so he could be laying head levelled with your belly, his hand now replacing yours over the bump.

“Hey trouble,” he whispered to your child and the baby kicked again, making him smile lovingly at the movement he felt under his hand. “You shouldn't be awake this late at night, you know.”

“You're one to talk,” you commented, tone almost reprimanding.

“She doesn't know that,” Bruce looked up at you as he defended himself before his gaze fell back on your belly. “Mommy is really tired,” he continued talking to your baby, his hand now rubbing soothingly over your round stomach, “and she needs her rest to do all the work so you can come out all healthy and beautiful. Well, you're definitely gonna be the most beautiful baby if you end up looking like your mother, but that's not the point.”

You smiled at the cheesy comment and your fingers found their place in Bruce’s hair, brushing through it and nails occasionally scratching his scalp.

“Your brother Dick can't wait for you to come around,” he carried on. “Said he will teach you all sorts of acrobatic tricks once you know how to walk. And he asked Alfred if he could help paint the nursery when we finally decide on a colour.”

“And I keep telling you we should do soft green,” you argued.

“I’m not changing my mind from primrose pink,” he told you with a sly grin.

“The room won’t be pink, even if it’s a girl. And that’s final,” you firmly said. Your husband will not be winning this one argument, no sir.

Bruce sighed, rolling his eyes before focusing back on your belly. “I hope you’re not as stubborn as your mother,” he whispered to the baby, as if he was having a private conversation with them and that you weren’t there. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s one of the many reasons why I fell in love with her, but I won’t be able to say no to you even when I have to, so it would save me a lot of reprimanding from Mommy if you’re not as tenacious as her.”

You smiled to yourself as you continued listening to your husband talk to your unborn child as you threaded your fingers through his hair, enjoying the softness it had after a shower. Bruce usually gelled his hair to appear more professional when he was working in the day, and then it would get all mixed up with his sweat under his cowl when he was working as Batman. When he would come back to you after the day was over, you would refuse to touch his hair until he had showered, the texture of the gel and sweat too gross on your fingers for you to ignore.

As Bruce continued talking to your baby, his voice started lulling the two of you to sleep. The baby hadn’t kicked in over almost ten minutes now, and the peace you had waited for so long to arrive made you aware of how heavy your eyelids were. You slowly lowered yourself down the bed, getting in a comfortable position with Bruce’s help where you could finally lay your head on your pillow and it didn’t take long for sleep to catch up on you.

At the sound of your soft, barely audible snores, Bruce turned his head away from your bump to find you asleep with your free hand raised next to your head on your pillow, the other one still tangled in his hair.

He planted a soft kiss on the exposed skin of your belly, eyes closed as he took a moment to absorb the fact that a baby that was half you and half him would be joining your world in a little more than three months. Bruce wasn't known to cry, the only time you ever saw him cry was as you walked down the aisle at your wedding, but tonight, a lonesome tear rolled down his cheek and fell on your stomach, where your child was growing, because Bruce never believed he would ever get to experience again the amount of love he hadn't felt since he was eight years old.

As he observed you, sleeping soundly with his child coming to life inside you, after you comforted Dick back to sleep, Bruce, for a moment, felt overwhelmed by all the love in his life. When he became Batman, he crossed out the idea of ever having a family (other than Alfred), of settling down with someone he loved and who loved him back.

But somehow, the universe put you on his path, as a miracle or a guardian angel or simply as an anchor to life outside of Batman, he didn't know. You walked into his home, into his life, to remind him that he, Bruce Wayne, was also deserving of love, of family, of happiness. Then Dick came along, rather unexpectedly but still no less welcomed, and Bruce started entertaining the idea of having children with you. He definitely wasn't opposed to it, but it wasn't something he wanted to jump right into, especially with Dick having just entered your lives. You were both young, he in his early thirties and you in your late twenties, you could allow yourselves a couple of years just the three of you (four with Alfred) before expanding the family.

So it was rather shocking when two months after you and Bruce had officially adopted Dick that you found out you were pregnant. It both took you by surprise but after talking through it together, you couldn't be happier. And the two of you haven't stopped being happy about this new little addition ever since.

Bruce rose up from his position next to your belly, your limp hand fell from his head as he did so, and he laid on the bed next to you. He delicately kissed your forehead, then your nose before falling back on his pillow and whispered “I love you” as he curled around your body, his hand resting on your belly as he fell asleep.

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gay-dorito-dust · 5 months ago

Note

deadpool getting jealous when you’re giving wolfie too much attention in a poly relationship!!! 🙏

‘Wade. Stop pouting.’ Logan grunted from against your neck, eyes closed shut as he tried to focus back on you and tightened his grip on your waist.

‘And how the fuck do you know I’m pouting! You’ve got your eyes closed!’ Wade exclaimed, pouting from the other side of the room, watching on in jealously as you continued to shower Logan with more affection.

‘I don’t need to open my eyes to know your pouting dipshit.’ Logan growled but his temperament was easily faltered when he felt you run your hand through his hair and scraping at his scalp deliciously, you almost swore you heard the gruff Logan Howlett purr like a domesticated cat.

‘Wade what’s wrong? You’ve been like this all week and when I go to kiss you or anything, you completely brush me off.’ You said as you looked over at him in his ridiculous pink unicorn pyjamas with matching slippers, squeezing his unicorn plushie tighter and tighter that you swore the poor thing was going to pop. You didn’t like it when either of your partners was upset or angry, they’ve been down those roads before and all you wanted was to love them as much as you can while you can; however you couldn’t do that if one of your partners was too stubborn to tell you what was wrong.

Thankfully after a total record of fifteen minutes of sighing and huffing, Wade looks over at you with the most dramatic pout on his lips. ‘Fine since my gorgeous, fantastic, sexy, hot pookie insists that I tell them what’s wrong, I’ll shall.’ He then takes a deep breath and points to the half asleep Logan cuddled up against you. ‘You have been giving lumberjack over there far too much attention lately Where’s my affection because I don’t see it! I’m being neglected! I want to be cuddled! where’s my cuddles!’ You couldn’t help but chuckle at Wade’s outburst, which only made him pout harder as he showed you his back which had a massive cartoon unicorn rearing on its back legs.

‘Great now my sexy, cool, gorgeously handsome partner is laughing at my pain, I must truly be in hell.’ He mutters to himself as he burrows his head into his arms, only then did your laughter subsided as finally spoke. ‘Don’t be like that, you know I love you and Logan equally.’ You tell him, only to hear him scoff, which made your heart hurt a little, before you the. patted the spare space of the couch with your hand, wanting to make it up to your boyfriend. ‘Stop it with the pouting and get your fine ass on over here handsome, we’ve got room for one more…if you want it that is. I’m not forcing-‘

Before you could finish your sentence, Wade bolted from his spot across the room, and clung onto your other side as he nuzzled his head against your chest, his arms latching onto you waist just beneath Logan’s own arms. ‘Thought you’d never ask sweet cheeks!’ Wade replied as he peppered kisses across your collar bones, causing your to giggle as you ran your free hand up and down his back soothingly, now feeling happy and content with both men that you love dearly being cuddled up on either side of you.

‘Good. I don’t want you to ever think I don’t love either of you because I do.’ You said as you kissed both Wade and Logan on their foreheads, noses and finally their lips as Logan sluggishly reciprocated his kiss in due to being half asleep, just as Wade almost devoured you eagerly with his own kiss.

‘I think we both know that very well peanut, and we love you all the more for it.’ Wade uttered softly as he made himself comfortable against your side, feeling his eyelids grow heavier. Wade knee you’d never made him feel jealous, not intentionally nor accidentally, but sometimes he felt a little lost whenever you spent just a small fraction more time with Logan over him. He just wants so time with you too! And so now as he burrows his head under your chin, ready to drift off, he couldn’t help but reach a hand over to squeeze Logan’s firm ass; only to find that he was one step ahead of him and quickly gripped his wrist.

‘I wouldn’t think about it bub.’ Logan murmured.

‘How is he doing that with his eyes closed.’ Wade whispered to you as you both looked at Logan as he dropped wade’s hand.

‘It’s a mystery we’ll never find out sweetheart.’ You replied as you kissed Wade on the forehead, giving his ass a little pat and a loving squeeze. You knew Wade expresses his affection in rather bold ways but only did so as long as it alright with you and Logan. He didn’t want to put you out of your comfort zone to accommodate him but you weren’t so easily fazed by his actions, not when you have been friends with him as long as you have been partners. So needless to say it wasn’t at all surprising when you suddenly picked up Wade’s tendency to squeeze and or slap your partners asses affectionately.

Much to Logan’s dismay no less but he took it in stride for your sake and occasionally Wade’s but mainly yours.

‘The author must’ve gotten pretty lazy or had a brain fart if this is how the fanfic ends.’ Wade yawns, ‘i could’ve done a far better job that’s for sure.’ He adds before falling asleep. meanwhile you stayed up wondering who the fuck this ‘author’ he was on about, and what did he mean by ‘fanfic?’

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soaps-mohawk · 11 months ago

Text

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 5: What I Want

Summary: You begin your training with Ghost, but not everything goes as smoothly as you'd hoped. At least you're learning how to want things, and that it won't kill you if you ask for them.

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader, some Ghost x Soap

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, oral sex, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, a/b/o typical classism and sexism, military inaccuracies, suggestive content, language, brief violence, reader has a breakdown

A/N: I know I was supposed to rest, but I couldn't help myself. I just had to get this one done. I was feeling it. We're finally getting into the good stuff here. Things will kind of pick up after this part, so I'm really looking forward for that.

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

(Gif pulled from google)

You tug nervously at your sleeve, feeling exactly as you did when you had to sit in the director’s office at The Institute. Only, you never got in trouble there. You had never been summoned because you misbehaved. You made it a point not to get into trouble, avoiding it at all costs.

You’ve been here just over a week and you’ve already messed up.

Price is staring at you across his desk, leaning on his elbows as his blue eyes bore into you. You’re not staring at Price, you think. No, you’ve come face to face with The Captain. He’s angry, though you can’t be entirely sure. You’ve never seen him truly angry. You’re waiting on the reprimanding, the punishment, for him to tell you they’re sending you back because you’re too much trouble.

“I want you to tell me exactly what happened.”

You flinch at his voice, half expecting him to start shouting but he sounds almost calm. There’s a strain to his voice, like he’s restraining himself. He’s doing it for your sake, you think.

“Ghost and I were walking back from the mess when one of the alphas called out to me. He...he asked if I was going to go spread my legs for ‘that freak’ and he said he could offer me a better time.” You swallow thickly, Price’s shoulders tensing just slightly. “I don’t know what happened...I just suddenly felt so angry and it’s like I lost control of myself and I went up to him and he asked if I was gonna take him up on his offer and that he’d like to bend me over and stare at my sweet ass all night...and then I hit him, sir.”

“Good.”

You look up at Price in surprise at his answer, your eyes widening a bit. “S-sorry, sir?”

“I have little tolerance for alphas that think it’s alright to speak crudely to omegas, especially those they were explicitly told to let be. You saved me a lot of paperwork today. Simon would have done a lot worse had you not gotten to him first.” He moves the papers on his desk aside, holding out his hand. “Let me see.”

You stare at his hand for a moment before you realize he’s talking about your hand. You push your sleeve up, putting your hand in his. Your knuckles have swollen a bit and bruised, tender to the touch as he runs his thumb over them.

“Simon told me you asked him to teach you to fight.” He says, closing his fingers around your hand.

“Well, not so much fight, sir.” You say, staring at your hands. “Maybe just how to throw a decent punch.”

“I’d say the one you threw today was at least half-decent. Corporal Allen is sporting quite the bruise on his face.” The corner of his lips lift in a smile. “You won’t have to worry about him anymore. He’ll be properly dealt with and they’ll all be receiving a lecture on proper base etiquette.”

“So...am I in trouble, sir?” You ask, pulling your hand back slowly as he releases it.

“No, you were simply defending yourself after Corporal Allen made a pass at you. Just don’t make it a habit of going around punching alphas.” He smiles.

“I’ll try not to, sir.” You say, relieved that you weren’t about to get punished for your mistake.

“Go on.” He nods towards the door. “I’m sure the boys are waiting for you.”

“Thank you, sir.” You say, standing up from your chair, heading towards the door.

Price leans back in his chair as the door closes, the sweet scent of caramel and strawberries still permeating his office. He breathes it in for a moment before pulling out his phone, scrolling through the contacts.

“You’ll be delighted to hear our girl punched an alpha in the face today.” He says once the other line picks up.

“She did what?” Laswell asks, genuine surprise in her tone.

“One of the Corporals made a pass at her, and she left quite the bruise on his cheek. She’s turning into quite the spitfire.”

“I told you she would fit right in. Underneath all that institute-taught BS there’s quite the personality. How is she settling in?”

“She’s softening up to the betas already. Still a bit fidgety, but she’s found a way to get Simon to warm up to her.”

“Oh? How so?”

“She asked him to teach her to fight.” Price grins.

Laswell chuckles. “I told you she’s smart. Just make sure he’s gentle with her.”

“Don't worry, I reminded him to go easy on her. I think it will be good for both of them. Some forced proximity will be good for Simon and she’ll get to learn a few things that could be helpful.”

“So long as she doesn’t go around trying to fight more alphas.”

“She’s already promised not to. The Corporal got off easy. I can only imagine what Simon might have done to him.”

“I’m glad to hear things are going well, John. I worry about her sometimes, but I know you boys will take good care of her.”

“We’re doing our best.”

“If you ever need anything, you know you can call.”

“I know. I’ll keep you updated as her heat gets closer.”

“Good. I’d hate to have to file that paperwork.”

Price grimaces. “I know. I hope you don’t have to.”

You’re tying your shoes as the knock sounds on the door. You’re not sure how they manage to do it, always seeming to catch you at the perfect moment. You’re glad Kate thought to get you some more active-wear type clothing, though perhaps she expected you’d be getting involved in their training or at least start a bit of your own once you arrived, just as she had thought to get you outdoorsy clothes too.

You open the door, staring up at the hulking form of Ghost.

“Come on.” He grunts, turning on his heel to walk down the hallway.

You quickly close your door, hurrying after him. Not much has changed since your request for him to train you, though you didn’t really expect it to. Not at first, at least. You still have to prove yourself to him. Simply existing and getting involved in their lives would not be enough.

He escorts you to the gym, a building you haven’t been in yet. There’s a few soldiers milling around, most of them in the weight room. There’s a pool across from the weight room, for more than just swimming, you think. Your father had talked about his own water survival training. You can only imagine the kind of water training they go through.

Ghost leads you towards the back of the gym, unlocking a door near the exit. It’s set up not unlike a dojo, mats on the floor and punching bags and other training equipment along the walls. Ghost empties his pockets, setting his things on a bench before removing his sweatshirt.

You can’t help but stare, only ever having seen him in long sleeves. His muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, the first bit of skin revealed to you besides his neck, chin, and hands. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, taking in the sheer size of them.

Tattoos.

He has a sleeve of tattoos on his left arm. You have a desire to look at them closer, to trace each one but you wouldn’t dare. Not right now. You pull off your own sweatshirt, folding it and setting it on the bench, leaving you in just a t-shirt and your leggings.

You fail in your attempt not to stare as he walks towards the center of the mat in his t-shirt and sweatpants, swallowing nervously. He turns to face you, motioning for you to approach with two of his fingers. Your face warms as you hurry onto the mat, coming to stand in front of him.

“Let me see.” He says, holding out his hand.

You stare at it for a moment before your brain catches up, and you put your right hand into his. You ignore the feeling of his fingers wrapping around your hand, lifting it so he can inspect your still bruised knuckles.

“We’ll start with dodging.” He says, releasing your hand, taking a step back. “Let me see your stance.”

You part your feet a little, bringing your fists up to your face. His shoulders shake in a quiet huff of a laugh as he stares at you.

“You need to stagger your stance more.” He says, circling you. “Otherwise,” Hands push you from behind, and you nearly avoid face planting into the floor. “You’re too easy to knock over. The last thing you want is the fight to end up on the floor. You won’t be getting back up if you let your opponent overpower you that much. Again.” He motions to you.

You set up your stance again, widening your feet just a bit.

“Good.” He says, moving to stand in front of you. “These protect your face.” He says, hands wrapping around your wrists, raising your hands just a bit. “You get hit in the face...”

“I won’t be getting back up.” You finish for him.

You know most fights end up with both opponents on the ground. You’d watched your brothers wrestle and play fight enough to know that. You’re not here to learn how to win a fight, only how to protect yourself enough until you can find space to run.

You barely have time to stumble back as his fist swings at you, nearly losing your footing. “Hey! You could warn me first.”

“You think someone attacking you is going to warn you?” He asks.

He has a point.

“Use your legs.” He says as you set yourself up again. “Move side to side if you can instead of ducking under the punch, but if you have to, don’t let your eyes leave your opponent.”

You see this punch coming, ducking to your right to avoid getting hit.

“Good.” He says, repeating the motion with his left hand. “Stay focused.”

You continue with the same motion a few times, already starting to feel a bit fatigued. Running is one thing, but strength is another. Most omegas aren’t naturally strong, nor are they inclined to increase their strength. That’s what alphas and their packs are for. It’s not unheard of, though, for omegas to increase their physical strength. Perhaps you’ll need to consider looking into doing that as well.

Ghost takes a step back, letting you rest for a moment. You’re breathing heavily, though he’s hardly looking fatigued at all. He’s used to this, you remind yourself. He probably throws more punches in a day in the field than he’s thrown at you so far in 30 minutes.

“Now, let’s make it a bit more realistic.” He says, a low rumble at the edge of his voice.

A wave of scent hits you, your brain nearly short-circuiting. Fear pulses through you, ozone burning your nostrils. You stumble backwards, landing on your back on the mat. You’re breathing heavily, every cell in your body screaming at you to run or submit.

“That’s...that’s n-not fair!” You say, your hands trembling from the adrenaline coursing through you.

“Any alpha you fight is going to use every natural advantage they have over you.” Ghost says, stalking towards you. You can practically see it, the purebred alpha within him coming through. “You need to learn to protect yourself against them.”

“That's...that’s not possible.” You say, the edge of a whine detectable in your tone.

He kneels down over you, crowding into your space despite the souring of your scent. It doesn’t even seem to phase him as he forces you flat on your back, his hands coming to rest on either side of your head. You stare up at him, every fiber of your being screaming at you to bare your throat, submit, give in.

Don’t back down.

You push past the fear, the instincts screaming at you as you drive your knee up into his stomach. He lets out a grunt but it doesn’t phase him, his hand wrapping around your leg, using his sheer strength to flip you onto your stomach under him. He presses against you, body folding over yours. You resist the urge, the instinct to press back into him, to be a good omega.

“If an alpha gets you onto the floor...” He says, warm breath fanning your ear through his mask. “You won’t want to get back up.”

His face presses against your neck as he inhales deeply before he pushes himself up, grabbing the back of your shirt and hauling you to your feet as well. You’re shaking, your heart thumping in your chest. Your head feels fuzzy, your brain buzzing a bit. Your omega is confused, poised to strike but she’s not sure against who. Ghost isn’t a threat, and you know that, but he had just proved how easily he could be. Any of them could be, with a simple scent change and their sheer strength.

“Again.” He says, getting into a fighting stance.

“You can’t expect me to fight after that.” You say, your voice breathless.

“If you’re in a real fight, you won’t have much of a choice.” He says, the rumble still audible around his own voice.

He’s right. If someone is attacking you, it’s likely going to be to kill, or to try and take you from them. Your omega shifts uncomfortably as you raise your shaking hands to guard your face. You continue to dodge punches, hitting the ground more and more as you continue to get tired. You’re going to be sore, still feeling your hike through the woods a bit.

The door opens, giving you a moment to breathe. Soap enters, a grin on his face.

“Ah, the wee lass is still breathin’.” He says, leaning against the wall. “Came tae make sure ye hadnae killed ‘er.”

You can practically hear Ghost roll his eyes, his back turned to you as he says something to Soap. You can’t hear what it is, the ringing in your ears too loud. Your omega is still worked up, still poised to strike, more so now in your exhausted state. You push yourself off the floor, not having a moment to think things through before you’re throwing yourself at Ghost’s back.

He turns before you hit him, catching you and flipping you onto your back on the mat. You hit hard, the breath forced from your lungs at the impact.

“Christ, Simon!” Soap shouts, hurrying to your side. “Ye tryin’ tae break her, ye numpty?”

“Don’t do that again.” Ghost growls at you, stomping over to grab his things before leaving the room.

“Easy, hen.” Soap soothes you as you gasp for air, his hand gently rubbing your shoulder. “Be over before ye know it.”

Slowly the paralysis of your diaphragm begins to lessen, your stomach still aching but the air comes easier now. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to fight the tears. You’ve messed it up. One day and you’ve already done more damage than you would have had you not asked him to teach you to fight.

“Don’ worry, hen. He’s just worked up, that's all.” Soap says, brushing a damp strand of hair from your forehead.

“It’s his fault.” You murmur.

“Maybe, but yer scent...surprised you didn’t notice, hen.” Soap wiggles his brows.

Your face warms. You hadn’t noticed the uptick of muskiness in the room, the heady scent of arousal before now.

It’s not yours.

“Me?” You ask, letting Soap help you into a seated position.

Soap smirks. “It wasnae me that tented his breeks this time.”

Your face warms even more, your body feeling like it might explode.

“Come on, hen.” He says, slipping his hands under your arms to lift you to your feet. “There’s still time tae shower before breakfast.”

“I can assume you know why you were called in here sooner than our normal weekly meeting time.” Dr. Keller says as you sit in her office.

“Because I punched Corporal Allen.” You say with a wince.

Dr. Keller nods. “Indeed. I just want to make sure you’re feeling alright, after that. Getting into an altercation with an alpha can be tough.”

“I don’t think I’d call it an altercation.” You say quietly.

“Maybe not,” She says, shuffling her papers. “But standing up to an alpha can be daunting.”

“I wasn’t alone.” You shrug. “Ghost was there.”

“I saw both yours and Lieutenant Riley’s account of what happened. I’m wondering, would you have confronted him if you were alone?”

Her question makes you think for a moment. Would you have stopped? Would you have confronted him, much less punched him if you were alone, or even with one of the others? No, you likely would have ignored him and kept walking like you did with Gaz. You’d likely have gone straight to your room and cried a little out of embarrassment and disgust.

“No, ma’am.” You say quietly. “I don’t think so.”

Dr. Keller nods. “You’re aware of Lieutenant Riley’s status.”

You nod, a frown pulling at your brows. How did she figure it out? “Yes, ma’am.”

“I know because I have access to their medical records.” Dr. Keller says. “It’s required for statuses to be present in medical records since purebreds have to be treated differently, just as alphas, betas, and omegas have to be treated differently.”

You do know that. You know that an injured alpha can get defensive if they feel cornered. You know omegas can die from stress if they’re not taken care of correctly. You know betas can get overwhelmed by large groups of injured people all in the same place without proper training to filter out the scents of agony and suffering.

“I think you reacted to his scent.” Dr. Keller continues. “You mentioned feeling a sudden rush of uncontrollable anger. Do you remember smelling anything at that moment?”

You nod. “Ozone.”

She nods, the pieces beginning to come together in your own head. “I’m sure you’ve figured out how different purebred alpha’s are and how much more potent their scents are. Your own status makes you more susceptible to their scents and the changes in them. You were reacting to the change in his scent. Your omega sensed a threat, and took over for a moment to defend you. It’s a natural response in omegas towards those they see as protectors, or even packmates.”

Your eyes widen a bit at her words. Ghost is technically your packmate. He’s an alpha in your pack, but you’ve never considered that you see him as anything but. He has defended you, and he had defended you not long before your altercation with Corporal Allen. Had your omega begun to cling to him out of a sheer need for protection after something like what happened in the mess?

You would like Ghost to see you as more than just an omega in his pack, more than just Price’s omega. You know he’d never claim you, but you’d at least like to get onto friendly terms with him. Soap said it had taken proving himself before Ghost started to accept him. You’re hoping your time spent learning how to fight helps you prove yourself, that you’re not a threat or even a risk. That maybe you can be an acceptable omega for his pack.

“Aside from this incident, how are you settling in? How are things going with your new pack?”

“Fine, I guess.” You shrug, starting to pick at your sleeve again. “Ghost is teaching me to defend myself.”

“Oh? Does this have something to do with what happened with Corporal Allen? Or is there a different reason?” Dr. Keller asks.

“I mean, partially that but also, Ghost, he’s...hard to get along with.” You grimace. “I know that in relationships, a good way to bond with people is to get into their hobbies so you have something in common. Ghost...ghost speaks in violence and I think it would help ease some of my fears if I can at least defend myself.”

“I think this is a great idea. It allows for some bonding time between the two of you, and it can also be beneficial to ease your anxiety a bit. As long as you’re being careful and you don’t get hurt.” She says, giving you a pointed look.

You think back to Ghost flipping you onto your back on the mat, narrowly missing getting hit, how he’d pinned you down using his own scent against you. “He’s being careful.” You say, clearing your throat. “Price would put him through the ringer if something happened. Even just as an accident.”

“How are things going with Price?” She asks, writing something down.

You shrug. “Fine. He involved me in some training this past weekend. We hiked out to a watchtower and the others tried to follow my scent. We got to spend some time together while we waited.”

“Have you done much of that? Spending time together?” She asks.

You shake your head. “Not really. He’s...busy. A lot.”

“You should start making an effort to get to know him more.” Dr. Keller says. “It’ll make it easier once your heat hits if you’re familiar with him. Have you knelt for him yet?”

You shake your head again, not wanting to answer out loud.

“Why not?” She asks.

“He still hasn’t asked me to.” You murmur.

“Do you know why omegas kneel for their alphas?” She asks.

You nod. “It’s good for our brains and bodies. It helps relax us and soothes our omega, makes it easier to process stressful events and can prevent stress related diseases later in life.”

Dr. Keller nods. “Correct. It’s an important first step in building that bond between an alpha and an omega, when it’s done correctly.”

Bad alphas can use kneeling to control omegas, put them in certain mindsets, make them more subservient. You know this, you’d heard stories from your fellow omegas after watching their parents. That’s not kneeling. You never had the heart to tell them it was so much worse.

“Do you want to kneel for him?” She asks you.

That word again.

You do want to kneel for him. You’ve wanted to since this past Saturday in the watchtower. You’ve felt that urge, that drive to drop to your knees beside him and let yourself go, let him carry everything you’ve been feeling over the last week.

You nod slowly, ripping one of the strings off your sleeve. You’re fighting the tears, fighting the emotions welling up inside you. You can feel them building, pushing against your stomach and your chest, threatening to burst right out of your skin and leave you nothing but an empty carcass. You’re breathing has picked up, shaking a bit as you inhale deeply.

“Why haven’t you asked?” Dr. Keller asks, her brows furrowing as she stares at you.

“I don’t know how!” The words tear from your lips, almost echoing as they bounce off the walls like projectiles. You haven’t so much as raised your voice in years, much less to a person of authority, but you can’t stop. The dam has been breached. “Everyone keeps asking me what I want, but I don’t know how to want!” Tears cascade down your cheeks, your breaths coming in sharp gasps. You cover your face with your hands, muffling your sobs. “I’m not supposed to want.”

“Hey,” Dr. Keller’s voice is soft as she kneels in front of you, her hands trying to gently pry yours away from your face. “Who told you that?”

“That’s what we’re taught!” You hiccup, letting her pull your hands from your face. The tears are still falling, lips trembling as you sob. “We’re supposed to be good omegas. Obedient and serve our alphas. We don’t want anything, we’re only supposed to give.”

“Well that’s a load of bullshit if I’ve ever heard it.”

Dr. Keller’s words shock you into reality, your sobs halting with a sharp inhale. You stare at her, the tears still spilling from your eyes. Your hands are closed into fists, your sore knuckles aching from the strain.

“You’re an omega. It’s in your nature to want, to need. You can’t help your alpha if your own needs aren’t being met first. It’s okay to need things, to want things. Are there things you want?”

“Softer blankets. Fluffier pillows. A nightlight. Something to put on my walls. Strawberry scented body wash. Some goddamn authentic Mexican food.”

Dr. Keller chuckles lightly. “I can agree with you on that last one.” She squeezes your arms gently. “You’re allowed to ask for things. You’re not a soldier, and even they are allowed to have things of their own, comfort items, with them. It doesn’t have to be material things either that you ask for. I’m sure your pack would find a way to bend over backwards if you asked them.”

She’s right. The book says omegas can hold great power over the members of their packs if they try. A mix of playing their instincts and the right behavior and temperament can have betas and alphas wrapped around your finger. The idea of having such control over four powerful men makes your head spin.

“I want Soap to kiss me.” You blurt out, your face warming as you hastily wipe at your tears to hide.

“Oh?” Dr. Keller’s eyebrows raise as she looks at you. “This is a new development.”

“We...we almost did...a couple days ago.” You say, burying your face in your hands. “But I stopped it because I thought maybe Price...but then he said he didn’t care...”

Dr. Keller gently wraps her hands around your wrists, lowering your hands. “It’s okay to want that, and it’s okay to want to kneel for Price. I bet he’d be delighted if you asked him. I bet he was waiting because he didn't think you were ready for it yet.”

The calming beta scent washes over you, Dr. Keller projecting it to try and help you calm down. Your tears have stopped, your breathing starting to slow as the gentle almond scent goes straight to your brain.

“I’d like us to still meet for our regularly scheduled appointment this week, but I’m giving you an assignment to complete between then and now.” Dr. Keller says. “I want you to ask one of the members of your pack for one thing that you want. You can pick what it is, and who you ask, but I want to hear about it when I see you later this week, understood?”

You push back the nerves twisting in your stomach. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Good.” She pushes herself up to stand. “You can stay here as long as you want. Just let me know when you’re ready to go back to the barracks. Take your time. You are my only patient.”

She grabs the paperwork off the couch before moving to her desk. You watch her for a moment before letting your eyes wander. You wipe at your face, your cheeks feeling puffy from your tears. You’re glad she’s giving you time to relax. The last thing you needed was to run into a member of your pack like this.

That’s not a conversation you want to have right now.

You take deep breaths, letting the beta scent permeating the air calm you down. You sink down further into the chair, letting it surround you. It’s soft, the cushions pressing around you like a hug. You wonder how she managed to get it in the hard, “function-above-all” world of the military. You wonder how she got most things in her office, or maybe if she’d brought them with her.

It was likely Kate’s doing, you think. The office space was made for an omega, set up to be as comforting as possible. Though, you don't doubt Dr. Keller would have argued her case for having these things fearlessly if she had to.

You stay in her office for a while, listening to the clacking of her keyboard as the soothing beta scent washes over you. Your eyes are still burning a bit as you force yourself out of the chair, out of the soft comfort you could spend days wrapped in.

“I’m ready to go now.” You say quietly.

“Okay.” Dr. Keller says, finishing what she was typing before she stands, grabbing her keys.

She locks the office behind you before you leave the medical center, pulling up your hood to protect you from the drizzling rain. You’re growing used to the perpetually grey skies and sudden rainstorms.

Dr. Keller squeezes your arm gently as you stop at the door to the barracks. “Remember what I told you. I’ll see you in a few days, alright?”

You nod. “Thank you.”

She smiles softly. “You did good today. I am proud of you.”

You slip into the door of the barracks as she makes her way back to the medical center, your shoes squeaking on the tile floors. You head back to your room, the silence in the barracks telling you they’re not back yet.

You kick off your shoes, pulling your damp sweatshirt off as you sit on the edge of your bed. You stare at your ruined sleeve, the seam split to the edge of the cuff now. You got the sweatshirt from one of your fellow omegas at the institute, and you’ve worn it almost every day since. It’s turned a bit raggedy, and your picking at it hasn’t helped any.

Ask for one thing that you want.

It would be easy to ask for a new sweatshirt. You’re sure if you asked Gaz, he’d give you the one right off his back. Everything you can think to ask for, they’d have to buy. If you asked Soap, he’d likely commandeer the closest vehicle and drive straight to town and buy you one in every color, even if he didn’t have permission to.

You could ask for something that’s not material.

Warmth floods your face as you think about it. How would you even ask? You can’t just ask directly. You could, but you might die of embarrassment if anyone heard you. There’s nothing to really be embarrassed about, but you can’t help it. It’s a bold thing to ask for, and you’re not sure you’re feeling quite so bold today.

You chew on your lip as the barrack door opens, their voices echoing down the hallway as they return from their morning training. They pass by your door, their own doors opening and closing. You get up, moving to stand in front of your own door, holding your breath. You could just step out, knock on his door and ask. He’s probably changing, though. You’d never get the words out if he thought it was one of the others and opened it half dressed.

You have to do it, though, before you lose your nerve. If you don’t do it now, you’ll never do it and you’ll have to tell Dr. Keller that you failed. You’re allowed to want things. It’s your nature to want things. It’s human nature to want things. There’s nothing wrong with having needs and wants.

You can want this.

You repeat it over and over as you slowly open your door, letting it close behind you. You smell the air, finding the trail of his scent. It disappears down the hall and around the corner towards the rec room. Your legs feel shaky as you follow it, your stomach twisting anxiously. You can want this. It’s okay to want this.

You turn the corner, finding him coming out of the rec room. He grins at you, eyes sparkling.

You want this.

“Hey, lass, was just lookin’ for ye. Are ye ready for lunch-”

His words cut off as you grab his face, standing on your toes to press your lips against his. He makes a surprised sound against your lips, his body tensing. It’s quick, only a couple seconds before you’re releasing him, taking a big step back. Your eyes are wide with shock, almost as wide as his. His lips are parted in surprise still, his shoulders tensed.

“Sorry.” You blurt out, your nerves only heightened. What if he hadn’t wanted it? “Sorry, I just...I wanted to do it and I wanted you to do it that day, but I’ve never had a real kiss before and I thought maybe Price would want to...but then he said he didn’t care-”

Your words cut off as he grips your chin, lifting your face so you’re looking at him. The tension has melted from his shoulders, the surprise gone from his face. His eyes are soft as they stare down at you, his thumb brushing your lower lip.

“I didnae know it was yer first kiss.” He says softly. “I wouldnae pushed it so far if I did.”

“It wasn’t technically my first kiss, I kissed another omega at the institute but I don’t really count it cause I did it for her.” You shrug. “I’ve regretted pulling away since that day and Dr. Keller said I should start learning to want things and she gave me the assignment of asking for one thing that I want before I see her again at the end of the week and I could have just asked for something simple but-”

Your words are cut off as he leans down, pressing his lips to yours again. It’s soft and sweet, his hand sliding from your chin to the back of your head, holding you against him. Your fingers grip his shirt, and you lift yourself onto your toes to press back against him as his lips move against yours.

His forehead presses against yours as he pulls away, your breaths mingling as you continue to hold each other. “Gaz will be upset he missed out.” He says quietly, lips tugging up in a smile as he squeezes your waist.

“He can kiss me later.” You say, pressing a quick kiss to his lips once more before pulling away. “After lunch.”

Soap chuckles quietly, slipping his hand into yours. “After lunch.”

You hesitate outside the door, shifting nervously on your feet. You could turn around and go back to bed, pretend like you hadn’t spent an hour convincing yourself to walk down here, like you haven’t been thinking about this all afternoon. You had already completed your assignment for the week. You’d kissed Soap, done something you wanted. You’ve fulfilled that desire, and it didn’t kill you. You hadn’t dropped dead afterward. If the others noticed, they didn’t say anything.

This isn’t a want.

You knock softly on the door, half tempted to turn and run and hide under your covers until you inevitably have to get up tomorrow.

“Come in.”

Your hand hesitates on the door handle for just a moment before you’re turning it, stepping into the office. He doesn’t look surprised to see you, though you suppose if nothing else, he had smelled you standing outside. The thought makes your cheeks warm in embarrassment. How long has he known you were standing out there?

“What can I do for you, sweetheart?” He asks, setting down his pen.

You shuffle nervously, clasping your hands in front of you. “I-I was wondering...I..um...” You take a deep breath. “I was wondering if I could kneel for you.”

You bite your lip as he stares at you, the words having come out fast, almost meshing into one long string of nonsense. His eyes darken just a bit, his scent thickening in the air.

“You want to kneel for me, sweetheart?” He asks, his voice low and rough.

You nod, shifting your weight again. “Yes, sir.”

“Grab a pillow.” He nods to the couch. “I won’t have you hurting yourself.”

You grab one of the pillows from the couch, wondering how often he’s slept in his office. How many nights he’s spent awake, pouring over files, his mind working too hard for him to find any rest. You set the pillow on the floor before kneeling down next to him, facing his desk. You shift until you’re comfortable, sitting back on your feet. You let out a long breath as your eyes slipped closed, your fingers twitching anxiously in your lap.

Price’s hand is gentle as it comes to rest on the top of your head. You relax into his touch as he strokes your hair, working his way down towards your neck. You force your mind to relax, easing away the desire to tense your shoulders, to draw them up around your ears. It’s pure natural instinct, one that will fade the more you practice, the more you bond with him. The more you trust him.

“Ready?” He asks, his voice sounding far away despite the fact you’re right next to him.

“Yes, sir.” You murmur, pressing your head into his hand.

His hand slips lower, curling around the back of your neck. You inhale sharply as he finally makes contact with the sensitive area. His hand is warm, the tension slowly easing from your body as he presses his thumb lightly into the side of your neck. The back of your brain begins to buzz, your mind slowly filling with static. You relax even further, your head bowing just slightly as you feel the weight of the last three months lifting off your shoulders.

All the emotions, all the fear, all the unknowns suddenly feel far away. All the apprehension and the anxiety are soothed to nothing as he holds you, the hand on your neck a firm reminder that you’re not alone in this anymore. You have an alpha now, a strong alpha that you can trust in, that will carry it all for you.

You don’t need to be stressed or afraid anymore. A warmth begins blossoming within you, spreading from your core out to your fingers and toes. You feel a bit dazed, but not in a bad way. You’re not afraid of the feeling, not with your alpha’s hand around the back of your neck keeping you safe.

You’re not sure how much time passes, how long you kneel there. It could be five minutes, it could be two hours. Price continues to go over his paperwork, his other hand steady on the back of your neck. It’s not until he’s done that he carefully pushes his seat back, kneeling on the floor next to you. He releases your neck, catching your body as it slumps over, drawing you against his chest.

“Easy, sweet girl.” He murmurs, pressing your face into his neck.

You’re shaking a bit, brain still dazed and flying as you breathe in his scent. Earthy, trees, petrichor. The warm muskiness of a content alpha. You made him smell like that. You invoked that scent.

“Feeling alright?” He murmurs into your hair, gently stroking your side as you begin to come back into your body.

You hum in affirmation, wrapping your arms around his neck. You haven’t been this close to him yet, not since the scenting and that was more of a formal closeness, a required closeness. This is because you want it.

“Don’t let me go.” You murmur into his neck, clinging to him tightly.

His arms tighten around you for a moment before he slips them under you, lifting you into his arms easily. He pushes himself from the floor, moving to sit on the couch with you on his lap. You let yourself go lax in his hold again, feeling calmer and more relaxed than you have in months. You feel safe in his arms, not that he would have let anything happen to you before.

You’ve always been safe, you think as you let your eyes drift closed again.

The water is hot as it runs down his back, contrasting the cool tile against his forehead. His eyes are closed, breaths slow and steady through his nose. He can’t get that damn scent of vanilla and sweet, sweet omega arousal out of his head. He drives his fist into the wall with a growl, cursing the blood rushing south.

He can’t forget the way you felt under him, pinned so easily and helpless beneath him. He hates the way his cock twitches at the thought of the pout on your lips as he’d swung at you, narrowly missing you too many times. The way you tried to jump him.

He lets out another frustrated growl, slamming his forehead into the tile. A hand presses against his bare back and he turns on his heel, hand wrapping around Johnny’s throat, slamming him back against the shower wall.

Jesus Christ, he’s going to kill the mutt one of these days.

“Easy, Lt.” Johnny rasps, not fazed at all by the alpha’s actions. His eyes flicker lower, to the hard cock standing at attention. “Bit worked up, eh?”

He lets Johnny go with a growl, stepping back under the water, turning it all the way to the right until it’s nearly freezing. He almost groans in frustration as the water shuts off completely, his eyes cracking open as Johnny’s hand trails up his chest.

“Easy, big guy. Let me help ye.”

Simon moves until his back is pressed against the tiles, eyes not leaving Johnny’s sapphire ones as the beta slowly kneels in front of him. Johnny’s hands trace over his hips, outlining scars both old and new. Johnny’s fingers finally reach his cock, wrapping around the thick length. Simon sighs in quiet relief as Johnny slowly pumps his length, their gazes still locked.

Simon stares down at Johnny through his blonde lashes as Johnny leans forward, dragging his tongue along his head. A low growl rumbles through his chest as the beta circles his tongue around his head, smearing precum on his chin. He’s painfully hard now, breaking his gaze as his head tilts back, eyes fluttering closed.

His fingers sink into Johnny’s mohawk as the beta takes his cock in his mouth. He breathes through his nose, relaxing his throat as Simon’s cock sinks deeper and deeper, Johnny’s hands closing around his hips to hold himself steady. Simon grips his hair tightly as he begins to move, bobbing his head along his length, his tongue pressing against the bottom of his cock.

Simon squeezes his eyes closed as an image comes to mind, a smaller hand fondling his balls. His hand wraps around the base of his cock as he imagines soft lips on his tip, Johnny’s tongue tracing the parts of him that you can’t fit yet as you take him in your mouth. The sweet whines that would be pulled from you as he choked you on his thick length, Johnny whispering sweet encouragements to you.

He can picture the two of you, you and Johnny with your tongues entwined, his cum stringing between your lips.

He growls, yanking Johnny off his cock and pinning him to the tile wall. Johnny’s lips are parted as he breathes heavily, eyes blown with lust as he stares up at his alpha. Simon’s hand tugs at his hair, tilting his head back to bear his throat. Johnny lets out a quiet moan as he sinks his teeth into the delicate skin, leaving a mark he’ll wear proudly for a few days.

“Turn around and bend over.” He growls to the beta, his cock still hard and throbbing.

“Sir, yes sir.” Johnny says, smirking wickedly as he slowly turns to face the wall.

Fucking christ, Simon groans. They’re going to be the death of him.

You’re going to be the death of him.

NEXT ->

Taglist, part 1:

@bobaprint @ashy-kit @anunintentionalwriter @mockerycrow @hayleybarnesx @protokosmonaut @fruitymoonbeams-blog @blue-blue0 @hindi-si-ikay @hanellokey @thatonepupkai @redwites @kattiieee @141trash @ghostlythots @lothiriel9 @dillybuggg @beebeechaos @konigsmissedbeltloop @kaoyamamegami @thychuvaluswife @idkkkkkkk8363 @wallwriterstuff @bisky-business @smile-child-13 @anomiatartle @dangerkittenclaws @bless-my-demons @mystic60 @evolutionarry @red-hydra @lunaetiicsaystuff @cadotoast @linaangel @rancid-wasp @codsunshine @thriving-n-jiving @slayerx147 @ferns-fics @spicyspicyliving @cityoffallencrows @puppyel @ttsbaby01 @heeheehoohoohahahihi @sleepyoriana @ihatethinkingofnames10 @cassiecasluciluce @darling006

#call of duty #call of duty fic #poly 141 #task force 141 x reader #tf 141 x reader #alpha beta omega #a/b/o #john price x reader #captain price x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #ghost x soap #gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader

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