#anomalie care bears

[darknoverse]

Care bears oc moment yeah boy

I forgor to share all of these oopsieeeee

You know I actually need to properly talk about my AU but I keep forgetting

Anyways a 2 fake screenshots story . Basically Timidheart Civet , even though he's a sweet wittle baby who wouldn't even hurt a fly cuz he's afraid of his own shadow lol , he still ended up working along with Bugge Boogie and her fellas. (All of them are comically evil they can do evil shit legit and be like idc but they care).

Ok so the manticore looking gal is called Anomalie btw. She was a failed evil magic experiment , was supposed to be like an anti-care bear but ended up being way "too nice" according to her original master who went "nah I ain't keeping this smh". She ends up working along Bugge too, she like the big bully who's actually a softie and would kick anyone who looks at Timidheart wrong .

Oh also here's some Bugge and Fright cuz I can do whatever I want

[urlocaldesertdweller]

How far he is willing to go for you (Stanford x reader)

angst at first, then fluff

During his youth as much as you want to ignore it, he is going to put his studies and knowledge before you, especially when he starts to put all of his focus on the source of anomalies in Gravity Falls.

At first, you were fine with this. After all, you thought that this obsession for finding out about the truth was going to pass.

It only grew, as much as you wanted to ignore the cold empty spot in your once shared bed.

This obsession only grows once he meets Bill. Curiosity kills the cat. You couldn't stand any of it, the overbearing loneliness was becoming too much. And even the time you can tell that he hasn't been taking care of himself both physically and mentally.

He snaps at you when you even try to get him to go outside. He'd go into rambles and mutter about how you could never understand what is upon humanity with his greatest work in progress. You are stunned, to say the least.

You know it is hopeless to argue, he will only return back into that dusty, suffocating basement.

You went out by the time Stanford was pulled into that portal looking for a new place to stay.

But something brings you back to that dreaded cabin. And you saw "Stanford" acting different...something screamed that it wasn't your Stanford.

You are quick to see through the imposter's BS as you become aggressive and confrontational. You were never afraid to pull up a gun your Ford made and gave you for "emergencies".

The imposter turns out to be Stanford's twin brother as you continue to draw out more information while you learn more about Ford's family. Stan mutters under his breath a snarky comment about how Ford's managed to marry another equally as crazed weapon-wielding manic.

The news of hearing that the very same reason Stanford has been killing himself over has now trapped him in some dimension makes you feel sick. Stanly only tells you this, you are the only person he tells about the accident, he tells you to tell absolutely no one if you want to work together to start the portal back up once more for Ford.

You can't bear to live in that house anymore, especially over time you watch Stanley turn the home you once loved with Ford with all of your heart into a tourist trap. But you keep your mouth shut about your opinion against Stan, you only come around that ugly home to just hide yourself in the cold basement to work on the portal.

You went from lonely to lonely and bitter. Despite everything you thought about Ford in the last few times you interacted with him, you still loved him. Even if it felt like he was choosing a doomsday device over you. You are sure to remind yourself you get that sucker back in your arms you'll punch some sense into him.

Throughout the painfully long 30 years that have passed, you work tirelessly on the portal, looking for the other two journals, and struggling to keep yourself on the ground from going insane over this damn portal. Its form mocks you every time you look at it, only seeing it as the reason why Ford started to go nuts.

The summer when the new Pines twins come into town gives you another reason to drive you toward the future. From Mabel's lovely personality and lighthearted jokes to Dipper's similar antics to...Fords. The kids kept you grounded, and frankly, you treated them like your own, willing to do anything to keep them safe from any harm.

...

You'd never thought you finally see the portal open up once more after nearly destroying the entire town and getting arrested but the American government.

The figure walks out of the portal covered up from head to toe looking like from another time and world.

Your racing heart slows down as Stan explains to the twins that it was the author of the journals, his brother. To you, its Stanford the love and light of your life.

Things settle down as Ford punches Stan and then rants about how dangerous it was starting the portal again, the comment strikes a nerve. After 30 years, have you been working for this attitude for 30 fucking years?

Ford looks around looking at the new company, then his eyes lay on you wide as ever. They soften as he steps forward stretching out a hand. His tone changes to the quietest volume ever. The quick mood change confuses everyone in the room but you and Ford. Mabel is quick to catch on and gasp watching the old couple tension between you and Ford.

You tighten your face as you fist your hand and go straight into his cheek. It's your turn to rant now. From how he acted before the accident to the ungratefulness of bringing him back.

He frowns rubbing his pink cheek but he lets you rant and rant until you're out of breath, those 30 years made him forget how awful he became towards you and he completely regrets every second of it. He knows that he deserves you to be mad at him but his heart aches to touch you, feel you, and love you.

Mabel's widened grin along with everyone else is stunned by your punch and long-winded ranting of serious and complex situations within your relationship. You finish off finally with your arms tightly crossed.

The tension becomes completely awkward and everyone holds their breath looking between you and guilty-looking Ford. Stan definitely feels the weight of guilt is lifted from your interaction with Ford.

...

Ever since that day, your relationship has been rough for the first few days have been rough, Ford knew how you worked, you needed time that's all.

Eventually, you hold your breath and start talking to Ford within the first week. Of course, you'd never find yourself holding a grudge against your husband, especially at your age.

It's slow and bittersweet when Ford starts to blabber on about how sorry he was both how he treated you and his bitter reaction towards Stan and you turn on the machine for his return. To which he actually says thank you to you. It ends with both of you sniffling and tightly hugging one another, with Ford's fingers digging into your arms as if afraid of losing you once again.

Needless to say ever since that day and 30 years, he will put you before anything else. Forget the research, forget the studies, forget everything just not you.

...

As the days go by you feel a feeling you haven't felt in years, love, for your husband you thought not only fell out of love but also was lost to whatever dimension claimed him by the portal.

You both felt like a pair of flirty teenagers back in high school, from kisses, hand-holding, and cuddles. If you were ever to do it in front of the twins including Stan, he would cover the twins' eyes to which he'll remind the two of you that you have an unwanted audience and to also get a room.

Stanford would also spend nearly all of his time with you, including having you have a more important role in his smaller projects and adventures!

Stanford would sketch you in whatever journal he jots his thoughts in. Mainly admiring how beautiful you along writing small poems about you. What a charmer.

Nearly every day he always makes sure to express his gratitude both for you waiting for him and starting the portal up for him. He'll have those moments where the past comes up to him and he feels guilt once more, he will hide away or just seem down even around you.

Of course, you'll be there to reassure him with both words and kisses which also brightens up his mood and face. It seems that no matter how old and how long your marriage will last he will always get all shy with kisses.

From his lips, cheeks, forehead, hands, each finger and knuckle, neck, literally anywhere. Bonus points if you wear lipstick and the kiss marks stay, he won't realize it until someone besides you points it out. He won't wipe it away though, he wears them like a medal of honor from your love.

If you were to ever renew your vows, Stanford is completely on board by the way. It's the youngest you'll ever feel. You both look dashing in your old, or new ceremony outfits. The twins of course were proud as ever no matter the timing for both their grunkle and in-law finding love even in the fit of chaos. <3

[paymechildsupport]

I've never done a request before so please bear with me🥲

I was wondering if you could do another Francis Mosses x reader.

I really enjoyed your Spouse!Reader x doppelgänger!Francis and wanted to see your take on D.D.D. trainee!Reader x doppelganger! Francis, where we get sent out to 'take care' of Francis.

Really excited to see what you do with this prompt🙏🏾

>nahhh this is a devious prompt, -- I gotchu 🙏😈🙏😈

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

“Does this please you, Officer?”  // Doppel!Francis x DDD Officer Reader

--Doppelgänger!Francis x DDD Reader tasked with his neutralization 🙏

-!! AFAB Reader, -- though genetalia isn't outright explicity stated -(?) -- there is room for your imagination though 😋

-!! CW: nsfw- (smut), ; Dubcon /// Hand-job; sex against a wall; degradation; implied overstimulation

A/N: the number of Francis requests are CRAZY, -- and I completely understand why, -- man's actually majestic <3.

————-

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

...

This was not how you planned to spend your Tuesday night,— grumpy and exhausted, woken up mid-sleep by an emergency dispatch.

“Mm… hello.?” Your groggy voice speaks into the ringing phone, eyes still sticky from sleep. 

“Emergency Dispatch: Doppelgänger identified at Complex II,— repeat, doppelgänger identified at complex II,— dispatch agent, neutralize the threat”. They clicked off, leaving you alone in the dark. 

Fuuuuuuck…. 

You fit yourself to your uniform quickly, practically ripping the hazmat suit in an attempt to get inside. Stupid cheap uniform. 

Hurriedly, you grabbed your gear before rushing out the door, immediately stopping to softly tiptoe down the hall, (it would be inconsiderate to wake your neighbors at this hour).

You bolt out the complex, trying your best with the minimal light from the lampposts to groggily stumble your way to Complex II. You recall briefly the mention of a new doorman, a rookie. You figured it made sense,— poor new guy’s first day and he’s greeted by what you can assume as a particularly aggressive doppelgänger. 

Trudging up to the looming building, you approach the iron bound mechanical door. You can see immediately the shutters to the doorman’s office are closed, bits of movement visible from the gaps in the blinds. The poor dude was in shambles. 

You approach the gate, eyes locking on the figure of the doppelgänger, 

Hmm, let’s see who it is tonight…

You’re surprised to see the handsome face of your milkman staring back at you, eyes looking as dead as ever. The air was knocked right outta your lungs,— holy shit these doppelgängers were getting good. 

Clearing your throat, you address, 

“Uh,— right, sir,” you look at the doppelgänger, “I’m gonna need you to come with me.” 

He says nothing, opting to just stare. It’s then you notice the gaping hole that was his mouth, the two black chasms that were supposed to be his eyes. From afar, he’d look perfectly normal,— but in the light all the inhuman imperfections stuck out like a sore thumb 

Holy smokes that’s hot. 

“I’m going to take you with me now,” you don’t even know why you’re telling him this, why the hell were you being all nice with a doppelgänger? Sure, he was good looking,— sure, you were curious what that mouth could do—- 

But that’s besides the point. 

You approach hesitantly, hooking an arm around ‘Francis’, giving him a light tug to signify him to follow you. 

Surprisingly, he does. Without a single word or complaint. He just… stares. With those beady white pupils. It sends a delicious shiver down your spine. 

Leading him away, you look over your shoulder at the doorman who just peeked out from behind the shutters, giving him a reassuring thumbs up as you walk away with your new companion. 

“Threat neutralized,” you repeat into the bulky walky talky attached to your belt, “order complete, over”. You place it back in its compartment, continuing until you and ‘Francis’ reach the anomaly compound for all things strange and odd. 

‘Francis’ looks at the compound with horribly disguised disgust. You only chuckle grinning, 

“No no, don’t worry. You aren’t going in there…” he seems to breathe a sigh of relief— if that’s even possible—, before you finish the last bit, 

“— don’t worry, I have… other plans for you..”

——

“Strip.” 

“Excuse me?” He whirls around, taken aback. 

“You heard me, strip” 

“And why,” his eyes narrow, “would I do that?” 

You shrug, “safety protocol,-- we’re in the decontamination room,-- can’t let you in if your clothes are contaminated, y’know?” 

'Francis' is absolutely flabbergasted. 

“Oh, and for security measures someone else has to be in the room at all times, – but uh,-” you grin, “we’re a lil’ short staffed at the moment, so it looks like it’ll just have to be you and me. 

'Francis' only looks at you through narrowed eye lids, thinking, “and if I refuse?” 

“Then I’ll strip you myself” and you step closer to do just that. 

'Francis' skitters backwards to the other end of the room, back hitting the wall, “h-hey! No need for that, I’ll do as you ask…” he mutters

Chuckling, “at least you can be obedient” 

'Francis' looks away almost bashfully as he begins to undo the buttons on his shirt, fabric peeling away to reveal the pale skin underneath. His hat rests on a nearby bench

“Fully,” you purr, “I want it all off.” 

You swear you see the tiniest hint of red tinge his cheeks, and you can’t help but wonder just how advanced this doppelgänger was. Good thing you were about to see for yourself in a moment… 

The air is heavy, tense, almost, as 'Francis' slowly undoes the buckle on his belt, pants sliding down to his ankles, – his boxers the only scrap of clothing left hiding him from you. 

He wearily regards the way you look at him, not missing the growing flare of hunger behind your eyes, 

“Does this please you, officer?” his words are clipped, tension building up behind each one. Biting your lip, your breath almost catches at the way he smiles, teeth a little too sharp to be human. 

“No.” The words are thick in your throat, forcing them out a bit of a struggle, “Get rid of the rest of it, now” 

He bites his tongue, making no move to do so. In a second you’re on him, pinning his figure to the wall, bodies pressed up together. He has no time to react as you hook two fingers around his boxers, harshly yanking them off. 

“Oh.”

Free of the confines of his pants, his erect cock springs loose, tip already dripping with precum. 

“Huh.” 'Francis' can’t even turn his head your way, face hot and sweating slightly, “Who would’ve thought,” – your hands curl around him, taking him fully in your fist. His eyes fly to your face, pupils blown and dilated, staring in horrified arousal as you began to knead the hardened flesh, “--what a sick little thing you are, getting off on my reprimands, hmm?” 

'Francis' sucks in a sharp breath, muscles tensing almost to a breaking point. His entire body shook with an animalistic need. More strands of precum build up on his tip, all read and agitated. Your thumb rubs the tiny slit, coating him with the sticky fluid. You found it hilarious, – no way this freakish creature had a fucking thing for degradation. 

His mouth opens in the shape of a small ‘o’, eyes rolling back as you teasingly pull at his dick, your hands making wet squelching noises playing with the soaked meat. 

“Mm,” you hum as you continue to play with him, dumbifying the creature in your hands. His legs start shaking like a dog’s, lewd whimpers flowing from his lips, glistening with saliva and drool. He desperately thrusts himself against your hand, chasing his pleasure farther. Jerking him off slowly, immense satisfaction burning in your stomach at the way your hand milks him. Each low groan went straight to your pulsing heat, drenching your own pants. 

Panting, unfamiliar with the immense, foreign pleasure curdling through his gut, 'Francis' seems to forget the guise of his human appearance, pornograpic moans mixing in with groggy animalistic growls and grunts. Carnal desire ripples through his veins, building up in his stomach, molten hot, and threatening to explode from his twitching cock in your hands. Poor thing can’t even formulate words, getting his brains fucked out just by your hand alone. 

He gasps, right about to climax into your hammering fist when you suddenly retract your hand. 'Francis' looks at you with wide eyes, looking every bit the kicked puppy, cruelly robbed of his orgasm. 

“Hh. huh… nghu..- ga-?..”,  panting.

You chuckle slowly, “no, not yet…” 

He can only watch with teary eyes as you skillfully unbuckle your pants, sliding them off along with your underwear. You grab him by the hips, positioning him (which isn’t hard, considering the only thing keeping his shaking body up was your torso), and aligning your pelvis, eyebrows furrowed in concentration. You carefully slip him into your drenched hole, gasping softly at the sensation of him.

“Hah… like I said….” ‘Francis’ can only gape as you adjust yourself, cock twitching madly inside of you, 

… “I’m not done with you yet…”

[kairiscorner]

OKOK BUT

Jealous!Miguel stealing your attention only because you told Ben Reilly he has nice muscles 😭

You know that dude, when he's jealous, makes it clear that you only belong to his *wink wink*

AGHHHHHHH i live for jealous miggy for real

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

yeah, i'm... just a jealous guy, so what? — jealous!miguel o'hara x reader

miguel was at his wit's end, hearing you giggle as the blonde, buff-oon of a spider man was entertaining you with his muscles, that miguel was very certain that he had beat in every aspect possible. he didn't mean to brag–he honestly wouldn't care in a normal setting–but objectively speaking, his muscles and figure was far more superior than that of ben reilly's.

he respected ben, both as a spider man and a person, though he couldn't bear the thought of you–one of his only real friends and someone with a decent, functioning brain in the entire spider society–entertaining the blonde boy by giggling along, praising him, and running your fingers and hands over his biceps and muscles. ben dared not to show his true, flustered self as he kept 'accidentally' flexing at you, making you chuckle even more–annoying miguel even more, because... he should be the one making you all embarrassed, flustered, and giggly with his own much thicker biceps and muscles.

"it's just... so stupid." he muttered to himself as lyla chuckled. "gonna challenge ben to a flex off?" she sarcastically asked miguel, who–for a hot minute–ironically considered the notion, but ultimately decided against it with the shake of his head. "no, no need. i'll get over it." he said as a low grumble, which lyla raised her eyebrow at. "oh, will you, now?" she asked him with a hint of mockery, which made miguel snarl a little and sigh loudly. "you'll see." he declared with some spite in his tone.

he did not move on from it, not one bit actually.

it was driving miguel insane, because every moment he caught you that day to catch up and talk, he always caught you with ben–watching him entertain you yet again with him 'coincidentally' stretching and flexing those muscles he was so proud of but always played them off coolly when you happened to come by and... stare at him showing off.

this was it, this was the final straw–he had to prove to you once and for all just who you fold to, who makes you so flustered with a simple gaze your way with those piercing hazel (sometimes red) eyes of his–who made you want to have more and more of him and wouldn't be ashamed to get on your knees, or on all fours if he commanded you to, and beg for him to love you all evening into the early hours of the dawn. he had to show you who loved you, and who you loved endlessly.

when you entered miguel's office to report back to him on the statuses of some anomalies he needed word back on immediately. though when you entered the room, the atmosphere felt... entirely different now. you searched for miguel here and there since he wasn't there up on his platform, nor was he anywhere where the small pools of light touched the walls and floors of his office–he wasn't there, at least, not in front of you yet.

"you called, querida?" he asked you as he placed his larger palms on your smaller shoulders, feeling up your flesh gently and letting out low breaths as he got closet to you. your back felt his chiseled abdomen pressing against you, his pectoral muscles being pushed against your shoulders. you shuddered and felt your face get a little heated. you tried turning around to tell miguel you had the reports he was asking for, but it was a little hard to do with him pressing against you like this.

you finally turned around and pulled away from his grasp, but when you did... you were taken aback by the sight. he was completely shirtless, showing off his sculpted upper body, the curves and bulging of his arm muscles and built abdomen, and the only thing he was wearing was a flimsy pair of boxers that... looked a little thin from where you were standing. you gulped at the lump in your throat and tried to ignore the heat in the walls of your throat as you faced him with an embarrassed expression. you hurriedly handed him the report and tried to get away from him, but he blocked you in your tracks and looked down at you with darkening eyes.

"what's the rush, cariño? run me through these... one-by-one." he asked of you, which sounded more like a demand for you to stay, really, as he moved closer to you while you backed away–backing yourself up against a desk and being pinned against the wall by miguel as he loomed over you and stared you down.

"again, cariño... what's wrong? you gotta run me through these all... now tell me, what's the status on these anomalies?" he asked you as he gently ran his hand over your arm and raised an eyebrow again and involuntarily flexed his arm muscles by pinning his arm against the wall you were nearly backed into if not for the desk in between you two.

"y'better start talking, bella, or else... i might just make you talk myself." he said with a lower, sultry voice as he brought his face even closer to yours, your noses brushing together, and him hearing you whimper a little as he took your smaller hand in his own, bringing it to his abs. "what, cat got your tongue? that's not the little sweetheart i know... c'mon, say something." he encouraged you as you whimpered again and finally mustered the words to utter to him. "...you're... kinda big..." "kinda?" "v-very big..." you blurted out, all flustered as miguel leaned in closer, smiling, about to plant a kiss on your luscious lips. "how sweet..." he muttered as he kissed your lips gently, buttering you up before he shows you how much he's craved your attention before making you desperate for his attention soon enough.

you're in for the long haul this time... before the night ends, all your love and attention will all be on him, and only him–nobody else, just him and his body–and how his face contorts into a wide grin when he sees you stammer, eyes wide, and fluster over how much of a grip he has on you with those muscles he's got. maybe you'll spend the rest of the day with miguel tomorrow, hmm? ben and everyone else can wait... but miguel certainly can't.

tags !! @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @hisachuu @wreakingmarveloushavok @fictarian @yuridopted0 @simsrandomstuff @luvstarrstruck @popeheywardssecretgf @meeom @arachnoia @melovetitties @fable-library @ophanimgold @smokeywhalee @capnshtfce

[f0rin]

Foreign Temptations

-------------------------------------------------------------- hi!!! i have no idea how tumblr works at all and this is my first post but anyway have some sae not understanding what love is itoshi sae x reader --------------------------------------------------------------

You were warm; warm against his skin, his touch— his body. The flutters in his stomach made him frown, and the silent pleas of want prompted him to cringe. Turquoise eyes narrowed with the familiar feeling of indecision— question. There’s an unmistakable yearning to feel you more, explore you more; delve into the surge of heat that tingled from your feathery touches when you traced his skin, body shivering in an ecstasy that wasn’t adrenaline. He was entranced by an emotion he didn’t quite understand.

 But he wanted to.

 His fingers hovered over your hair, eyebrows furrowed in an uncharacteristic uncertainty, something that became common around you– the hesitance, the wariness. The acceptance. He found himself disliking it. Heavily. He didn’t have the time, you weren’t supposed to be a priority. Itoshi Sae was an egoist, carved into a player who danced with the deck of opportunity— a playmaker of the game. Doubt wasn’t in his arsenal of cards, a feeling he long ago cast away. But not with you. He couldn’t predict you. He couldn’t analyze you. He couldn’t withdraw himself from you. The sleeping figure curled into his side, being one of the rare things Itoshi Sae found doubt in.

 And it was undeniably exciting.

 Fingers gently met your hair, careful digits tucking back the bangs sheltering your eyes. A test of the new territory, an itch to his curiosity. You were pretty. Pretty like this. Pretty with him. Head on his thigh, body relaxed with the blanket of sleep, an enchanting serenity painting your features. The back of his knuckles stopped beside your cheek– your vulnerability was a daring invitation he wavered to accept.

Sae didn’t know how to regard you— or think of you, or what to entirely even do with you. He only understood one thing— he was only sure of one thing: football.

And you were not football.

 You were an anomaly to his status quo, a foreign rival to his norm that made him hungry and challenged and soft. You came bearing gifts of intoxicating emotions he couldn’t comprehend, but found himself chasing like a high. Maybe he’d confront you about it later.

 Or maybe he wouldn’t.

 He probably wouldn’t.

You’d have to take the first steps for him.

[monstercampus]

Which wolves like a fiesty human and which orefer a more submissive? Who's got the biggest dominance kink/problem??

HEH.

(cws: mild lewd, dom/sub dynamics, brat taming, knots)

Hate to say it but Athos loooooooves a fiesty little brat. He's so sweet on you you'd think he's just the gentlest, most darling wolf to bed--aside from Elliott and Ollie, probably--but those fangs will snap as soon as the attitude comes out. He hates how much he likes it and how he likes it, but it's in his blood, so how much can he really help it?

He likes the fight for dominance, the moments where you're first entangled with each other, when it comes to deciding who is going to stake their claim over the other--he wants to make you regret all that biting and wriggling as you try to break his grip, wants to watch that snarky smirk melt as he pushes you down on his knot. You think this is humiliating? You just wait and see what happens when he turns. Bigger knot, sharper claws, and droolier fangs to sink into the nape of your neck; you'll break if he wants you to break, and when he mounts you you'll know for sure there's no escaping a good, hard breeding from him. Sometimes he'll hit you with that plap, plap, plap of his knot driving into you, while both of those massive hands just hold down your head and grip your hair as he stretches you out on his cock. You can earn his mercy if you try--but you're gonna have to try reeeeallly hard to make him proud of you again, pup.

On the flipside, Portia's one to just adore a submissive partner. He likes fiestier ones for sure, but there's something about the implicit, loving trust and sweetness of a doe-eyed little human that really gets him dialed all the way up. If you can loop your arms around his neck and cling to him while he touches you it's even better. Even if it's just playing pretend and you aren't usually that way, he really likes the feeling of acting like you need to be taken care of--it scratches an itch in the core of his self, it makes him preen at the idea of giving you all that you ask for because you trust that he can provide. He's a giver, what can he say? He likes to be needed.

The rest of the wolves are largely on the sliding scale between those extremes. Ollie likes to be praised and Nick's more on the daddy-ish dom side than the aggressive brat tamer that Athos can be. Kirk is similar to Portia in the sense that he also really needs to be needed, but he also likes flipping that into a dominant role. Julian really just likes to please and will use overstimulation as his tool to dominate you. And Elliott is more of a switch that likes to be submissive on occasion, so when he's dominant he's not usually too aggressive about it. Priam is...well, he's kind of an anomaly. Mostly a big wolfy teddy bear, but there are times when, under the right circumstances, he just goes...feral. So he can kinda flip the switch between ultra aggressive/possession to super gentle and sweet.

[scribble-dribble-writes]

I have a request!! Y/N being sent on a mission by Miguel, them being gone for hours and not getting back at him makes Miguel check in on u over Layla & she has to him that they got hurt. A feral/worried Miguel going in for the rescue of a badly injured Y/N, taking care of their wounds and staying by their side. Once they regain consciousness -> lots of apologies and fluff/tenderness would be awesome!!

Thank u for reading this request of madness 🙈 x

Hi anon! Thanks for the request, I had to write it the moment I read it. GAH SOFT FERAL MIGUEL HAS ME IN A HOLD.

I hope you like this 💖💖💖

---

Unsaid words

"LYLA", he called for his assistant.

His eyes glued to the monitor, looking through street footage and maps. His eyes now awake with the thirst of knowing where you were. Your location marker turned offline and he drew a sharp breath. Something was wrong, his mind coming up scenarios that he wasn't very fond of.

"Where is she?", he asked next. His fingers turning into claws that bit into the top of his table.

He was impatient. No. He was worried.

He had stayed numb, not getting close enough to miss anyone but you, his heart began to race, you were special.

"I can't find here active data but it's certain that she's hurt.", LYLA responded. Instantly, he pushed away from his desk, he had to find you.

His suit covered his head with his mask, his claws now fully out as he had only one goal in his mind.

He turned his gadget to the universe you were sent to and jumped into the portal, he couldn't wait for it to open, he shouldn't have sent you alone, thoughts and feelings he had kept hidden were now rising to the surface. He struck his blade into the time fabric tearing it open.

Cold rain greeted him, covering the world he entered in a goulish green. A sign that the anomaly here would be one of the Doc Oc variants. And just as he had though it, he saw a silhouette with tentacled arms climb up a building. In one of its arms, he caught sight of the colour of your suit.

Anger rushed into his system, one mixed with the overwhelming need to protect you. He hadn't felt that in a long time, since he lost his universe. The tip of his tongue felt the sharp end of his fangs bearing out at the thought of losing you.

He didn't waste a second, his eyes were locked on his target.

You grappled against the cold metal that wrapped around your throat. Your feet dangling over the dark city. It was getting hard to breathe and in the state you were in, you were certain that if you were dropped from this height, it would be fatal.

The mask you wore was torn in half, allowing you to witness the sheer force of an object that slammed into the anomaly. Red blades gleamed against the eerie moon as clawed hands tore away a couple metal arms. You could recognize him anywhere. His large back over powering the anomaly as he slammed Doc Oc's face into the glass facade of the building. Over and over, he wasn't like himself, you had never seen him this triggered.

The anomaly lost consciousness and the red eyes in the tentacles flickered out, the grip around your neck easing. Fear filled your system, your eyes widening at what this meant, you clawed against the metal now to hold on, to not slip. But the rain made it difficult, the glass panes were too smooth, it made it impossible for you to catch onto any surface. You pressed into your web shooters only to for it to confirm with a hiss that it was broken.

It was all in slow motion, your body feeling the pull of gravity, the anomaly tilting head back into a fall and the red slits on his mask turning to you, widening as he watched you fall.

Capturing the anomaly was what was important, that was the mission, not one could be killed in action as they had to be returned into their respective universe. Whereas, you, you were expendable, fallen soldiers in this war no one knew about.

So who was he going to save?

Was this another one of his canon events?

But something within you caused you to scream out his name, some stupid want to feel his arms around you again, one last time. And that was what changed everything.

With inhuman speed he secured the anomaly to a broken steel column and dove towards you. He looked like he owned the skies, his blades stretching out against him like his wings, a streak of black, red and blue.

He didn't use his web to catch you, afraid that it would end like a few Gwen Stacy deaths. He retracted his claws, and reached out for you.

His weight enabled him to reach you faster in mid air. You felt his arms circle you, press you deep into his chest as he braced for impact. He held you tight as you felt the smell of tarmac beneath you. He had saved you, even though it wasn't a part of the mission.

With your ear pressed into his suit, you could hear the ferocity with which his heart was beating. He pushed away quicking to inspect you, his thumb tracing over a scratch across your cheek making him grumble. As though you were his priced work of art and someone had defied him to hurt you.

"You came.", was all you could muster to say.

"Of course I would.", he spoke softly as he carried you in his arms.

Now this made you feel like you were untouchable by any force that ever existed. Nothing could be strong enough to pull you away from him.

"lo siento llegué tarde.", he drew closer to you as help arrived to clean up the scene.

"You were right on time.", you responded to ease his worry, which surprised you. He never worried about anyone in this way.

"Oh you've found her!", LYLA popped up next to him.

"He was losing his senses over at HQ.", she laughed.

"LYLA", he warned her.

"What?", she winked at you as she acted innocent.

"Leave us.", he ordered and she disappeared.

His gaze was on you, you could tell with how the eyes on his mask softened.

"I was afraid I might lose you.", he said quietly as he stroked your exposed jaw. His warm touch eradicated the biting cold sting of the rain.

"Where you?", you asked watching his mask unravel, exposing his nose and lips.

You could feel where this was heading, you craved it. But to see him nod to your question in a way that it was the absolute truth set your heart on fire. He had saved you, there was no grander gesture than that. It spoke more loudly than what he could put into words. He held the side of your face that your mask didn't cover, your left cheek, the tip of your nose and your lips.

He leaned down, his hot breath over your cheek sent your mind into an overdrive as he softly kissed you, a cliche. Maybe it was his canon event, the usual spidey kiss.

The pain in your body evaporated just for this second as you kissed him back. Your reaction causing him to pull you closer, as though it was a confirmation. Your intuition in tune with what he was feeling, unsaid words could remain unsaid. Instead he spoke with his hands and a racing pulse in his throat.

He pulled away, his lips now spread out in a smile as the suit engulfed his face again.

"Let's get you cleaned up first and then continue this later.", he chuckled as he opened the portal.

Now that was a command you didn't mind obeying.

[tlou-reid]

spencer!dad with a teen daughter, theyre having an argument (bad grades, behaviour, sassy etc) but in the end she feels bad for her actions and apologises. fluffy/happy ending please <3

the only way to comfort your daughter most of the time was to remind her that spencer was a statistical anomaly.

there was such a small chance of him having such a big, beautiful brain, and it was completely unfair of her to hold herself to the same standards he held himself to. but, she did it anyways. and this caused a lot of tension in the house. especially since she started high school.

claire, your oldest child and only daughter, has been gifted. she was years ahead of her classmates, already taking calculus 1 instead of the algebra her friends were in. but being in these classes came with a lot of work on her part. and you did not mind helping her, but keeping up with the way schools change how they taught or trying to do the hard math she was doing wasn’t going too well.

so, spencer stepped in.

“you’re looking for the derivative here,” spencer spoke, frustrating clear in his voice. “that’s what i just said!” claire exasperated, throwing her arms up and tossing her pencil down the table. “you’re not listening to me!” you could hear the frustration and the hurt in her voice. you wished you could step in, but you knew you’d be no help.

“if you knew that, you shouldn’t have asked for help.” spencer rolled his eyes, growing equally as frustrated. “stop being rude, claire. i’m just trying to help you.” communication had never been spencer’s strong suit.

from your place in the kitchen, you could see the way spencer’s face was getting redder and redder, not liking the way his daughter was talking to him. “hey guys,” you called, quickly hustling around the kitchen to throw together a snack plate, “why don’t we take a break? i have a pre-dinner plate for you guys!” you did your best to cover up the real reason why you were interrupting them. hearing them go back and fourth broke your heart, you knew they didn’t want to argue with each other and it really did upset both of them.

“i gotta get done, mom.” claire deadpanned, once again rolling her eyes. “be kind to your mother.” spencer demanded. “dad!” she shouts, needing spencer to just be quiet.

“claire, go to the living room.” you pushed, shooing her away. they needed space from each other. they were too alike for their own good.

“you didn’t have to do that,” spencer sighs, accepting defeat. “yes, i did, spence. you gotta be nicer when she asks for help.” spencer nods, not really caring for your opinion.

claire had disappeared to her room, working on assignments for other classes. she doesn’t come out until you call everyone down for dinner. she asks her little brother, benny, to switch seats so she could sit next to spencer.

as you’re in the kitchen scooping everyone’s plate, you hear claire talking to her. “dad, i finished the homework.” she says, not elaborating. “yeah, how’d it go?” he smiles at her. the anger he was feeling washed away just as quickly as it came. “yeah, i had mixed up the different variables a few steps up. i had to resolve it like six times.” she explains. “great job, claire bear.” claire smiles.

claire was like her father, never one to apologize despite knowing she was wrong. neither of them would say the words “i’m sorry”, but the way they shared a bowl of chocolate ice cream for dessert was more meaningful anyways.

[obsessedwithspiderman2099]

Wisteria

Part three

Pairings: Miguel O’Hara x fem!reader

Word count: 1,168

Synopsis: Someone has been running laps around Miguel’s mind.

“Where’s Miguel???”

This had been the question all week long in the spider society. After ten pm he was gone. For other spiders, this was a normal if not longer time to leave work. But for Miguel, the workaholic rarely left his office. No one could successfully kick him out, not even Lyla. But for some reason ever since he stopped that lizard anomaly from Earth 1829, something about him has been different..

Jess was the first to clock it when she actually saw a smile form on his face. “Something’s up.” She told Lyla. “With Miguel?” “Who else? He’s been leaving at a normal time and hasn’t been frowning as much as he usually does.” Lyla thought for a moment about it, “you know I have been seeing him a little bit happier lately…”

She immediately began pulling up his files and stalking through them. Her yellow skin got brighter for a second when she found the reason.

“Aha!” She said, fishing out a tiny imaginary digital file and pulling it up.

“About two nights ago, he walked this woman, y/n l/n, home to her apartment after successfully taking down an anomaly that was in her area. He met her again last night to walk her home, which is probably the cause!”

They both looked at each other for a second.

“You don’t think he’s….” “No! I’ve never seen him like that before..” “Maybe she and he…-“

“Maybe who and I what.”

The two froze and turned around, Miguel right beside them now. His mask was off, with an eyebrow raised and the usual grumpy expression was looking at them.

“Miguel! We were just talking about work-“ “So who’s y/n?” Lyla asked, almost casually.

Although he didn’t move or seem surprised by the question, a small hint of blush formed on his tan skin. Jess noticed it immediately, but kept the thought to herself.

“She’s a citizen I was helping yesterday.” “And the day before? Sooo what’s up with that?” Lyla says, poking at the already annoyed bear.

“Lyla. Stop. It’s none of your business, I was just helping her.” He then turned to Jess, “It’s not yours either.” “Sorry, I guess I’ll get back to work.” Jess raised her arms up in defense, and left the two alone.

“Riiiiight, so why’d you go back.”

Lyla continued, making Miguel roll his eyes at her in annoyance. “She said she walks home every night, I was just being Spider-Man and walked her home.” “So why didn’t you just give her a taser and call it a day?” “Lyla, I'm not having this talk with you.” He said, and tried to shoo her away, but she went through his hand, staying in her spot around his shoulder now.

“Are you hiding something Miguel?” “No.”

“Then why does it look ,Ike you got sunburnt on your face.” “What? It doesn’t! Ugh- I’m not talking about this anymore.” He stormed off, slamming the door to his office on the way in.

“He’s definitely hiding something.” Lyla said to herself before glitching off, away to deal with something else.

Miguel stood in his office, looking at different screens.

With anomalies always appearing in different earths, there was always trouble to deal with everywhere. Checking multiple earths through the screens, he accidentally (completely purposefully) checks yours. Seeing nothing but semi empty streets lightly peppered with the usual purple flowers, he becomes curious.

What are you doing right now?

Probably in the book store helping with someone, or just being the kind person you were, but what? He wondered, subconsciously checking on more of your world. He didn’t know the Spider-Man who ran it, but after checking his files and the footage of him, he didn’t need to.

Although being presented and acting like an eco-friendly and caring hero, the man was really an arrogant and selfish person. After watching some interviews and reading his canon events, Miguel was already sick of the man. Working with the largest corporations in your earth to actually go against the climate instead of helping protect it like he promised and ignoring the people he was supposed to be saving, Spider-Man 1829 was a villain.

Miguel scoffed at the news, of course it had to be your universe. Of course that kind of ‘hero’ had to be protecting your earth.

He soon fell down a well of his own thoughts, not noticing Lyla popping up next to him until she spoke up.

“Still thinking about that woman?” She asked, propped up on a tiny digital yellow chair the same size as her.

Miguel jumped ( his non-existent spidey sense was always a huge help), “What? No!” “Then why’s her earth's footage covering your screens?” A smug smile plastered on her face, knowing she caught him red handed.

He grumbled, taking it off the yellow holographic screens.

“Anything else you have to say?” “Nope!”

And with that, she popped into thin air, leaving the already tired and annoyed Spider-Man even more in the regular feeling she had while working. He sighed, pinching the brick of his nose.

“Why did I program her like that??”

This was a question he repeated regularly.

Suddenly a message signaling the presence of an anomaly in a different earth showed up, prompting Miguel to go on a mission. He sighed, and turned his mask back on, covering his tan and tired face. He was back in the game.

After two more annoyingly difficult missions, Miguel was back sitting in his office.

Running a hand through his hair, he checked the clock. 9:48. His heart skipped a beat, knowing it was almost time to see you again. He stopped for a minute.

Wait. Why’d he have that reaction?

He barely knew you, and this was just him doing Spider-Man work. Right? Regardless, Miguel stood up and began to push the coordinates of your world onto his goober. After stepping into the brightly colored portal that appeared in front of him and going through the time tubes to your world, he landed on the familiar concrete.

Immediately clocking the rain that was pouring down, he sighed and quickly went back to hq to find an umbrella for you. Just in case. Miguel fished one out of the corner of his office, and continued on his plan.

He entered earth 1829 once again, and read his clock. 9:57. Looking down from the top of the building he landed on, he noticed the dimly lit lights of your bookstore still on. He remembered you mentioning your interest in books, and complaining about the screens that people were beginning to turn to instead of reading a physical copy. Miguel admired your love for literature and the earth, something he never really stopped liking either.

Again lost in thoughts surrounding you, he didn’t realize it was closing time until you were locking the front door of the shop. A smile emerged on his face under the mask he wore, watching you for a second. You were wearing nothing but a small shirt and shorts, clearly not knowing the heavy weather that would ensure. Freezing in the wet cold air that cling to you, he swung down to meet you.

“Hey.” He said, standing on the pavement suddenly next to you with the umbrella in hand, You turn to him, a smile he could look at for days on your almost ethereal face.

“You’re back.”

A/N: Oh em gee. My first story done!!! I wasn’t sure if I wanted to end it early or what, but let me know if I should make a part four! My requests are also open for the moment so make sure to give me any ideas y’all are thinking! Thanks for reading!!!

[phyrestartr]

Simple Things [1] | Miguel O'hara x Male!Reader

# SFW, fluff, light comfort, light angst, male!reader, dad!reader, spider!reader, smoking, implied depression, implied trauma, old men just doing their best, dad energy, miguel is a sweetheart and a nerd, multi-part drabble collection

[ 1 ] Smoke Break | [ 2 ] We Change Like the Seasons | [ 3 ] Meet The Kids

Notes: Yes, this will have more parts to it! I'm editing the next bit as we speak (beheh) and it should be up within the week? Maybe? I keep bouncing around from draft to draft, so finishing parts can take a while, pls forgive :pray:

--Smoke Break--

You were just another hero. There wasn't much else to it, you'd decided, and in joining the Spider Society, the same rang true--Miguel didn't think much of it, you didn't think much of it, none of the others did, either. It wasn't a bad thing, no, it was just how it was when one gathered hundreds of superheroes together. Everyone was special in their own worlds, so being a cut above the rest when you were all insane super freaks was exceptionally rare.

Miguel O'hara, however, proved to be exceptional.

Even after all the time that stretched on, he still existed as an anomaly of sorts within HQ. Cool, calm, collected, he led everyone with his head held high and his words resonating like a church bell; everything he said became gospel, everything he said affected their way of saving the multiverse.

Miguel knew that.

You knew that.

Most thought him invincible, unyielding and unforgiving towards the laws of the multiverse, and most admired his dedication. You knew troops clicked well with strong leaders, that they felt secure in their mission and battles when lead by a brave soldier, but your experience-trodden understanding burned in the forefront of your memories.

To you, it was obvious. If you watched his back long enough, if you too often caught glimpses of what he thought were well-hidden tells, the fracturing became all too easy to see.

Miguel was breaking.

You knew that feeling well, the feeling of being unable to bend anymore, to have your limits pushed and surpassed, yet still somehow stay intact and working, like a frayed web.

Maybe that was why you couldn't keep him off your mind. Maybe your primal loneliness, the weeping cracks you'd endured on your lonesome, resonated with another's. Maybe it begged you to do something while you still had the chance.

--

You'd come to see him one day to force some baked goods into his hands and leave, the excuse that you and your daughters had made too much armed and ready on your tongue.

Yes, you were caring, and yes, fine, you were a bit awkward approaching your fearless, strict, hard-ass of a leader with a piece of pie in your hands like you were at some fucking chummy pot luck or parent-teacher night, so you needed an excuse, something to veil your heart. Were you supposed to tell him you were worried about him, or something? No, no, that'd come later (if there was a later).

You expected to see his broad back turned to you, to hear him mumbling to himself or talking into comms; instead, you found him tucked away in the corner of the lab, sat in an old desk chair, napping. His arms rested crossed over his chest, and his head hung down. It was reassuring, a nice reminder that Miguel, too, was mortal just like yourself

The corner of your mouth twitched into something fond and lopsided, though barely there, before quietly, slowly, you left the Tupperware container on his stage console and saw yourself out. You couldn't bear the thought of waking a fellow "old man" from a much-needed nap.

--

Time stretched the way it usually did; missions assigned, spiders injured, anomalies captured--nothing new, nothing out of the ordinary.

But, shit, were you tired. You were always tired, sure, but these days the stress of life and love threatened to break more of you down and grind you into dust. It must have felt terrifying. But you couldn't feel it. Your mind wouldn't let you.

The smoke from your cigarette burned your lungs as you inhaled, grounding you, and reminding you of your existence. You sighed, thankful, and rested your head back against the outside wall of the secluded little balcony you'd found in your mindless wandering. Smoking inside always got you an earful from anyone and everyone in all dimensions, anyway, so you figured you'd skip the scrutiny and take it outside right away. Besides, it was easier to think and wallow this way.

But the door beside you slid open, ruining your quiet. You sighed, letting your eyes fall closed, waiting for the intruder to say something, do something, make themselves known. Seems they weren't in a rush, however.

You cracked an eye open, and spied him. He stared out at the city, his city, and held a clean Tupperware box in his hands. Miguel's fingers drummed against its sides in thought. His twitchy, fidgety restlessness made him too endearing.

"Finished the whole thing, eh?" You asked, cigarette hanging limply between your lips. "Guess you really do have a sweet tooth."

Miguel huffed a laugh, short and sweet, before handing back the box. "Yeah, well, can't say no to homemade food. Besides, Peter stole some." His face soured, nearing an annoyed pout.

"Ah. Bastard." You took the box back, words of gratitude light under your breath. "I'll give him a piece of my mind later."

"Let me know how that works out since, well, that Peter doesn't listen to anyone." Miguel crossed his arms.

"Pretty sure he just doesn't listen to you, Boss."

"Oh, great. Even better." Miguel was smiling, despite his annoyance. His eyes, warm and sullen like those poppies from your memories, flickered over to you, drawing your gaze. You'd never had the chance to speak to him so intimately, to be the only one standing beside him. It felt like a privilege, but it was too mundane to be so. You welcomed it.

"Didn't take you for a baker," Miguel said. His eyes followed your fingers plucking the smoke from your mouth. "Or a smoker."

You sighed as you glanced down at the wisping cigarette. "Yeah, well. I'm not much of the prim and proper hero type, I guess."

Miguel tilted his head, curious. "Never even had a phase?"

You thought back, far back, but shook your head. "Nah, I don't think I ever really had any pep in my step. Not that I can recall, anyway." You took another drag to suffocate resurfacing memories. "...A lot happened before Spiderman happened." For a long moment, you watched the smoke coil. So did Miguel. "But you? I can definitely see you as a peppy youngster."

Miguel sighed, something exasperated and light. "Dios, you're making us sound old."

"Aren't we?" You quirked a brow, almost smiling as Miguel put his hands on his hips. "What, you think we're young when we got kids like Hobie and Gwen running around? Damn, Pav too. That kid's the epitome of 'friendly neighborhood Spiderman.' Don't even get me started on May--"

"Okay, okay, stop, stop, stop," Miguel motored out, raising his palm to defend against the painful truth. "I get it. Y'know, talking to you is a lot more humbling than I thought it'd be."

Oh. You laughed. It surprised you with how it exploded past your defenses, choked and ugly, hampered by the plume of smoke in your lungs. Your hand waved at Miguel as you got lost in your fit, tears pricking your eyes and a smile aching unused muscles.

"Y-you're a dick," you eventually wheezed. "Humbling?"

Miguel smiled, too smug. "It's just been a while since I met another miserable bastard."

"Is that self-awareness?" You flicked ash from the end of your cigarette and shook your head, the aftershocks of laughter still shaking your voice. "Incredible. Inspirational, even."

"Alright, now who's being the asshole here?"

"That'd be me."

"Ah. Self-awareness."

"What can I say? You've inspired me. Such a good leader."

"Yeah, well, inspiration and good leadership come with a fee." His eyes flicked to the Tupperware tucked under your arm.

Your brows raised. Huh. Unexpected. But you nodded, and tapped more wasted ash onto the ground. "You're lucky my kids like to bake. You got a hankering for anything?"

Miguel's lips parted, surprise painting his face cool shades. He blinked then, breaking from whatever spell he found himself in, and ran a hand through his hair. "I--ah. Yeah, just, anything. Whatever your kids want."

"You're gonna regret that, but hey, your call." A comfortable silence fell for a few beats before, very unlike your blasé self, you pressed for the sake of curiosity: "So? Were you a plucky youngster? Sparkling eyes, heroic intentions 'n all that."

Miguel's gaze, pointed at the city, stared through the buildings and perhaps into a time you were not privy to. The tightening of his jaw told you more than you needed to know.

"Yeah, I guess I was." Miguel took a step and rested his elbows on the railing of the small patio. "Things weren't easy back then, but..."

"You didn't have to look after the multiverse?" You wondered, voice soft. The other's unshakeable shoulders slumped. You stuck the cig back in your mouth as you thought about your own history, about what you wish you had the chance to do, about who you could have been, who you wanted to be.

"Did you at least get to live a little?" You asked, maybe a little bit to yourself.

Miguel nodded. "Yeah. But I think I started really living after I became Spiderman."

Somehow, you understood.

"Kinda ironic."

"You're telling me. But it was eye-opening. Life-changing, in a bad way, in a good way." He paused before nodding with contemplative shrug. "Humbling."

"Hm. More humbling than me?"

"If you can believe it."

You snorted and shook your head. "Guess I have no choice."

He hummed, agreeing. Miguel turned, leaning back against the railing and crossing his arms as he regarded you. "You must've had a 'the hero is born' moment," Miguel suggested more than he asked. "We all do." And he was right, logistically--if you were all Spiderman, you all had to have a moment where you really became a hero.

So, you thought for a long, slow moment.

But too quickly did something find a soft, hollow place to fester in your chest. The pain pierced so like losing yourself in December's glacial lakes, so wicked with languid tortures and polar punishments. The pain could fade if you stopped fighting, if you let the water pull you into the peaceful darkness, but you'd indulged in the shameful malady of shadows too many times; your patience and self-loathing had grown so thin.

You don't need to remember, the lady of the lake would whisper to you, voice dripping with tears in a way that sounded so much like her. She lulled you, she pulled you back in, she urged you to turn her way instead of fighting her, instead of reaching for the roiling inferno that was the past. In those moments, in her arms, you never knew if you'd find your way back to the surface, but you were not one to obediently decay in ignorance.

Her wail filled your mind as you breached the blaze, and found that sunny day in the Bronx, with the wind carrying the honeyed scent of summer life when you'd met that pretty little thing from the flower shop...

You twitched a smile. "Well...I guess I--"

"Hey," Lyla suddenly cut in, blipping into existence between Miguel and yourself. The level of relief you felt upon being saved from talking about yourself was unhealthy, but you silently thanked Lyla for it: memories of the blaze and the ice could be put aside for a while longer.

The sprite adjusted her sunnies before continuing, "totally loving the bromance here, really cute, but we got a new anomaly that needs some extra love. You guys feel like kicking some bad guy butt, buddy-cop style?"

"Sure," you cut in before Miguel could. You need out of this conversation now. "I call bad cop. Wanna see good cop Miguel butter up a baddie."

Miguel twitched. "Hey--"

"Oooh, me too," Lyla agreed, nodding sagely.

"I don't think I like you two being on the same side--"

"Let's get the show on the road, Boss." You butted your cigarette out on the wall and set down the container. A warm sunset glow bloomed across you as a portal whirled open, shimmering and humming.

You tapped his chest playfully with your knuckles. "Last one there buys me a six pack."

With a hop, skip, and a jump, you were gone.

Miguel rubbed his face. Lyla fluttered around his head. "Well? Better go after him, good cop."

"You. You aren't allowed to team up with him," Miguel stated as he headed towards the portal. "Starting now, colluding is not allowed."

"Oh, what? Sorry, connection's getting fuzzy--"

"Lyla, don't--"

"Sorry--shhhrk--breaking up--" and she, too, disappeared.

Miguel rolled his eyes. His mask materialized over his face as he followed you, a comfortable fondness resting in his chest, chasing out any turmoil the day had brought him.

Good cop. Bad cop. It was stupid, childish, but maybe that was a good thing. Maybe it was a dumb little something that he needed.

[eretzyisrael]

That's not even the worst example from Sunday.

Iraqi Shiite news site Baratha imagines a world without Zionists - and without Jews:

What would the world lose if the Jews became extinct?! Quite the contrary, humanity will have a good opportunity to live quietly and without the evils of this malicious sect. The idea is so wonderful that I can almost see the desert blooming, the earth getting excited, and millions of beings losing their minds from extreme happiness! Jews are the curse that came from the worst dreams of the accursed Devil. Without them, humanity would not have known atheism, the theory of evolution, and racism. With their help, the prophets were killed, usury and immorality spread, wars broke out, and nations perished. With their dirty thinking, epidemics developed, the death trade became widespread, and the world turned into an arena of conflict in which man eats man and death spreads everywhere. . If humanity had not known this malicious sect, it would not have known socialism, capitalism, and Nazism. It would not have known Zionism, Freemasonry, Illuminati, and Wahhabism. It would not have known the Cold War, nuclear and hydrogen bombs, and it would not have known corruption, anomalies, drugs, cancer, global warming, the right to veto, America, injustice, and oppression. They are a dirty, atheistic sect that claims faith, a dirty race that considers itself the only one worthy of life, and a strange society that contains the essence of meanness, malice, and deception accumulated over thousands of years. Their history is rotten, their books are false, their principles are evil, their morals are malicious, their methods are satanic, their goals are ominous, their presence is dangerous, and their survival is not good for man or animal. These people never lived among a people without their corruption, unrest, and devastation spreading, and they never moved to any country without carrying evil with them to it.. So it behooves all humanity to be hostile to them until it is safe from their evil, and I am not exaggerating here if I say that their disappearance is life and good, and their survival is death and evil. If humanity wants to live in peace, it must first stop their evil; And everyone who stands against them is on the side of truth, goodness and peace. There is no alternative to God’s laws, and the path of Satan and his servants will end in failure. Everyone who stands against them will be helped and supported by God’s care. Goodness, which is the path to salvation, is in standing against evil, not by standing by and watching. The responsibility that one cannot escape from bearing is through awareness, work, and patience, and the outcome is survival and victory in This world and the hereafter, God willing.

Unlike the resurgence of antisemitism in the West, there are next to no articles condemning the incitement to violence that is now widespread. The pretense that arab media had in separating Jews from Zionism in the past 25 years has all but disappeared. The Jews remaining in Tunisia are frightened to death that they will be slaughtered at any time. 

Western NGOs who claim to be supportive of human rights do not say a word against these explicit calls to rid the world of the evil of Jews.

[the-broken-truth]

A Father's Son [Part One] - Miguel O'Hara w/ Teenage Spider Son Reader

Summary: Hi, I'm [Name] O'Hara. As the son of Miguel O'Hara, the leader of the Spider-Society and Spider-Man 2099, I strive to be one of the best Spider-Men under the guidance of my mentors Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker. However, it's disheartening that my father doesn't acknowledge my efforts and instead holds onto memories of my late sister Gabriella, with whom he destroyed the past. While I am my father's son, I yearn to be recognized for who I am.

[Earth-928 / Spider-Society / Main Hub / Your POV]

It is said: "Children should not be burdened with the successes of their parents, no more than their failings.", whoever made that statement should have passed it on to my Father - Miguel O'Hara. This man was stubborn and obsessed with success when it came to her preservation of the Multiverse but he could never stop and take a look at what was before him and appreciate what he had; always wanting more than what he could care for... least with his work, because it seemed like he never wanted me and cares not for my achievements in the Spider-Society.

My name is [Name] - [Name] O'Hara - and I am the only son of Miguel O'Hara, in fact, I am his canon son; the child he was meant to have instead of the daughter he tried to raise from another universe. I was 12 years old when he left me to replace the dead version of himself and he returned a broken man after he caused a canon event & an entire universe to collapse because of his greed and selfishness. I tried to be there for him, to make him see that while I wasn't Gabriella I was still useful, I was still his son and I wanted him to love me but he just looked t me and shook his head before he left out of the room, leaving me to cry alone with Lyla comforting me until Jessica and Peter came to get me and take me home per my father's request.

Now, I am 15 years old - one of the best spider-men in the field, and today, I was on a solo mission to take down a Varitant of Doctor Octopus & return him to his proper earth. I managed to find him on Earth-876 and defeated him before wrapping him up in a web and doing a scan of him - he belonged to Earth-656. I opened a portal to his proper earth and sent him there before opening another portal to my home and jumped in before reappearing on the other side in the Main Hub of the Spider-Society. I was greeted by Peter and Jessica before I heard a rather grumpy voice speak from the upper level.

"[Name], we need to talk. Now." My Father said as he had his back turned to me with his hands on his hips and his head shaking once again; he was upset at something but it couldn't have been me, I took care of the variant alone without a single scratch. I looked at Jessica and Peter before webbing my way up to my father's platform and looked at my father's back.

"Yes, Father?" I asked him with my hands in the pockets of my spider suit but when he turned around, he looked rather pissed off.

"What the hell were you thinking, boy?" He asked me with his deep tone but I just looked at him with confusion in my eyes.

"What are you talking about? I took care of the anomaly and returned it to its proper earth all on my own." I said with pride in my voice but his glare was too much for me to bear. I miss his brown eyes but the red was a side effect of the Spider Injections.

"You weren't supposed to go alone, I was supposed to go and deal with the Anomaly." He said.

"What does it matter who deals with the anomaly? It's dealt with and there was no other reason for you to be in that world, right?" I asked.

"I found an Orphaned Version of Gabriella on that Earth and i was going to bring her here to raise." Those words made my heart freeze, again with this?!

"ARE YOU FREAKING SERIOUS?! YOU WANTED ANOTHER VERSION OF GABRIELLA AFTER YOU CAUSED A CANON EVENT AND DESTROYED AN ENTIRE UNIVERSE?! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, FATHER?!" I roared at him.

"This version doesn't have a parent, taking her from her universe and bringing her here wouldn't have caused a Canon Event." He said but the anger in me was too much.

"Why can't you just be happy with what you have?! You have me, I'm your son! Your Real Son! A son you made with your wife, who you divorced becuase she wasn't able to have more children!" I pointed at him, eyes flowing with tears.

"I need Gabriella. You aren't her. I don't want nor do I need you." He said. I just stood there and soaked in what he just said.

He didn't need me?

He didn't want me?

Fine.

Then, he was about to lose me forever.

I turned away and jumped off his platform before walking out of the Main Hub with Jessica and Peter at my sides, I didn't want to speak to them, I needed to see someone who understood me. I needed to see my mother.

[winterlynightlystories]

Welcome to Hawkins

Tw; swearing, mention of child abuse, mention of injuries.

To not steal my work, thank you!

Billy Hargrove/Male reader (he/him)

Summary; you find Billy on the side of the road, bloody and angry. The worse part? You are not alone in the dark.

~~~

Hawkins was a weird place. Even before the Byers boy went missing, the town faced strange things. Electrical anomalies, weird sightings in the forest and sometimes animals would meet a gruesome end. By now you were used to it.

Until the Hargrove came to town.

Hawkins was a small place where everybody knew everyone. There was no secret, not even inside your home. Even if you went in the middle of the wood, by morning the whole town would be aware of what you did. So it was no surprise they were met with mistrust.

Because it only took one look for everyone to agree; there was something wrong with them all. Especially with the father, you thought. With the way, he spoke to his son and how Billy would sometime flinch when his father moved his hands. It was obvious that something was going on.

And then they all met Billy Hargrove at school. Violent, racist, and always ready to fight. He tried so hard to be the king of the school, it was almost pathetic. But he was good to party with, you heard.

For your part, you disliked him. Billy and you would always fight; in the corridors, after school or even during sports class. Sometimes he would win, but most of the time? You would show no mercy and beat the shit out of him.

You weren't violent, some would even call you peaceful. But peaceful doesn't mean harmless and you refused to let Billy Hargrove do as he pleased.

You also pitied him.

No one was blind to the bruised he would try to play off as accidents or results of fights that never happened. Or how he would flinch, even so slightly when someone accidentally slammed a door or dropped something heavy. Or the fear his eyes would hold for a second when someone would throw a ball of paper and it would pass close to his head.

It broke your heart.

And there was nothing you could do.

That night as you drove, the forest on each side of the road, you kept thinking about the Hargrove boy. You wondered what kind of person he really was underneath all those masks he wore to protect himself.

Halfway through the forest, something caught your attention. At first, you thought it was a dead animal, maybe a deer. But then, it moved.

- “Shit!” you cursed, hitting the brake. “Hargrove? What the fuck are you doing here?” you asked, getting out of your car.

Because sitting on the side of the road was the one and only Billy Hargrove. Hair messy and bloody lips, Billy seemed to come out of a fight as the loser. But something was terribly wrong; his eyes were red and puffy and wet as if he has cried.

- “Fuck off man.” Billy snapped, looking away.

- “Seriously?” you sighed “C’mon city boy, I'm driving you home.” you added, eyes turning to the forest.

- “I said, fuck off! Or are you deaf?” replied Hargrove, making you grunt.

- “Oh, shut up. You think I'm leaving you here to be eaten by a bear?”

- “There aren't any bears in Hawkins.” objected Billy, scuffing.

- “Ah yes! I forgot it was my imaginary friend Steve who killed those animals!” you replied sarcastically. “Now you either get in the car by yourself like the good boy you are, or I'll get you in.”

- “Fuck. You.” slowly said Billy, smiling. “Anyway, why do you care so much? We are not friends or anything.”

- “Because there is no way I am leaving you here in the middle of the night!” you snapped, approaching him.

- “Wait, wait, wait! Don't tell me you are scared?” mocked Billy. “Seriously? Scared of the dark, Y/n?”

- “No, not the dark, but of what's hiding in it,” you said, seriously, stopping in front of Billy.

Billy was about to reply something when you heard the eeriest scream coming from the forest. You both froze, staring into the darkness. There was no sound, not even a cricket, or wind. It felt just wrong. Like a second before the disaster. And you felt watched like a prey being stalked.

- “Hargrove, get in the car.” you said, voice shaking as you saw a large shadow move between the tree. “NOW!”

You grabbed him by the collar and turned on your heels. Without another word, you two ran as another scream came from the forest, closer this time.

You barely closed the door before turning the engine on and driving away as fast as you could.

- “What the fuck was that?” asked Billy, looking behind. “That wasn't a bear!”

- “I don't know! I don't fucking know, man!” you replied, still freaking out. “It was too skinny to be a bear. Maybe a sick deer.”

- “Bitch, are you serious? Deer don't stand on their back legs!”

You didn't have the time to reply to anything, spotting the shadow on your left. In the dark, you could not really distinguish anything, but you could swear it was now running on four.

- “I don't want to sound dramatic, but I think it's following us.” you said.

- “How...”

Billy never finished his sentence. Instead, you both screamed when a tall shadow jumped in front of the car as you hit the brakes.

Standing on its back legs, the creature had smooth skin, almost like an eel” you thought. But darker. Like charcoal or shadows. And its head was like a flower.

You almost screamed again, feeling Billy gripping your arms and digging his nails into your skin.

- “What the fuck. Man, what the fuck is that?” he asked, his voice a mumbling mess.

- “Don't ask me! I don't know!” you whined, hands shaking on the wheel. “Man, I can't do a U-turn and there is no way I can drive in reverse in the dark.”

- “Then just run over it! Do something!”

And you did just that.

Pushing your car as fast as it could toward the creature. Maybe it knew what you were trying to do, or maybe it got scared, but seconds before the impact, the creature jumped out of your way. You sighed in relief but didn't slow down.

You heard Billy’s breath slow down before you felt his forehead on your shoulder. If he was crying, you saw nothing, because God be your witness, you were too. Not letting go of your arm, Billy actually tightened his grip.

- “Tell me it's gone. Please tell me it's gone.” he begged with a small voice.

- “Yeah, I don't see it anymore,” you replied.

- “I don't think I can go party anymore.”,” said Billy.

- “Yeah. Welcome to Hawkins.” you scoffed. “So, mind guiding me to your place?”

- “I'll rather not” he whispered.

- “Mind if I take you to mine then? I'll give you some of my shit and will take care of those bruised. I know where my parents hid their alcohol. God, I need a drink!”

- “As long as you share that drink, that sounds good to me. But I'm taking the bed!”

- “Fine princess!”

Billy said nothing and you relaxed. Heart still racing in your chest, you wondered of it was that thing who was responsible for the latest slaughter in the nearby farms. Or killed those missing outsiders. A part of you also knew you needed to call the sheriff, but the other knew it was useless. No one would believe you and you didn't want to put Billy in more danger.

So to your home, it was.

[lost-in-time-marie]

I find myself thinking tonight about human touch. There’s something written in the biology of a human to want touch, to need it, to be healed by it. The infants in the NICU that get held, a gentle hand placed on the head, one finger too large for them to even grasp, get better faster, grow bigger. You’d think I get some personal pleasure in making a mockery of biology the way I insist upon breaking its rules. But like so many biological behaviors and inherent drives, this too has become a twisted and corrupt thing for me.

I don’t like to be touched. I don’t remember anymore a time if I did. When some blaring catastrophic alarm wouldn’t go off under my skin at an unexpected grasp, a tap on the shoulder, a graze in passing. Even if I wanted the touch, or thought I did, if I had a crush, if I loved them, even if in a relationship with them. I would still feel the wrongness of it like a weight sinking in my chest.

I’ve learned to grow accustomed to certain touches. The familiar ones, akin to me or some effect of time and depth with me. Of course, the most difficult always remains with romantic love. There’s people I’ve loved with my whole heart and it didn’t stop the ants that live under my skin that can’t stand the feel of theirs. I’ve only known three men in ten days shy of 27 years that could touch me. That I didn’t have to bear, that I didn’t have to hide the grimacing, that didn’t cause that jarring screech to a halt. So far, I’ve lived to see two of them wither away and turn into something foul and rotten, until the skin shrinks away once more.

I can’t figure out what causes it, where the pattern is, what rules it follows. I’ve wanted to be in a loving relationship with people, but I couldn’t stand for them to touch me, and I could never grow accustomed. The three men that cause the anomaly couldn’t be more different, maybe a certain type or set of features here and there, but nothing significant. When I first meet them, there is something inherently familiar, comfortable, easy.

I’ve only met the third recently. I only met him for the first time less than a week ago. That was my worst fear, my biggest risk on this trip. I didn’t care about navigating the airports and all the flights and connections. I didn’t know if when I got there he would feel like a stranger, something foreign, something wrong. I didn’t really have a plan for what I would do if he did, maybe just pretend or run home early. I was hedging a bet, putting a lot of faith in that feeling in my chest when we would talk on the phone. It’s the first time I hear his voice and yet I’ve known this sound.

I look up to see him for the very first time in the airport. I’m staring down at my phone on purpose, because I don’t know what to do with my searching eyes, barely balancing the teeter-totter of unease and excitement inside me. He says something about finding me. I look up and I smile. And he is so familiar. I know him, I recognize him. And relief pours down in a rainfall from the crown of my head, soaking all the way to my toes. I feel self conscious, nervousness falls a blush on my cheek, but not because of a wrongness or strangeness. There’s a touch of something familiar, a curiosity at the yet unknown, excitement about all the possibility. And there is nothing wrong about it.

Funny, how that’s the part that scares me the most. I don’t know when I got so afraid to want things, not exactly anyways. But it is the first reflexive kick of my brain, the stone I turn in my pocket just for the comfort. If I don’t want it, if I don’t hope, it can’t hurt me.

~K.

[theyanderespecialist]

Jack's Wife (Headcanons) Yandere Jack Bright X Wife Reader  (SCP Foundation)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter! This one is where Jack Bright is yandere and he will be yandere for you as his wife. I will also have this in audio/video on YouTube! Please Enjoy this!] 

(Disclaimer: Artwork is Made By GavImp on Tumblr, all credit to her!) 

(Disclaimer 2: We do not support Admin Bright! Jack and Or his genderbent (Jackie) Bright Are more so their OWN STAND ALONE CHARACTER. Jack (Jackie) Bright is NO LONGER a self-insert of Admin Bright! We DO NOT Support Admin Bright, He is despicable! Separate the creation from the creator!) 

(Disclaimer 3: Dr. Jack Bright is NOT Yandere In canon! This is Just for Fun and Not To Be taken seriously at all! Simping For Fictional Characters is fine, just do not be illegal or gross about it! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life. Also, Remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon!) 

-Headcanons With Yandere Dr. Jack Bright X Wife Reader- 

.Dr. Jack Bright is a chaotic man. 

.He also is very loyal to the foundation. 

.And he is loyal to his family. 

.These are three main facts about Jack. Another one is that he is in love with his wife. He is so in love that he is obsessed. 

.You, his darling wife. The love of his life, the woman he wants to bear his children. 

.Jack Bright was lucky enough to have you as his wife, for you to put up with his chaotic nature and to stand by his side. 

.Jack Bright's soul is tied to SCP 963, an amulet that anyone who touches has the soul gone and a copy of Jack Bright's soul remains in it unless removed in the first 30 days. After those 30 days, a permanent copy of Jack Bright's soul remains. 

.You were Immune to SCP 963. Abel to touch it without having your soul erased. 

.That is how you met Jack, you had an anomaly where you were your type of immortal and able to not be affected by some SCPs 

.Jack instantly felt you were someone that he could spend his life with. 

.Not only that, but when he had met your eyes he fell head over heels in love with you. 

.You were the perfect woman to be with him. Both of you were able to spend the rest of your time together. 

.Jack had stalked you and read your file, learning everything about you. 

.He was beyond obsessed with learning everything he could about you, and then he used the information to court you. 

.He loved to make you laugh and to tease you getting you flustered. 

.Seeing you give him a reaction of a blush, smile, and or laugh made his day. 

.When you had agreed to date him he was over the moon, then in a few years dating became marriage. 

.Everything seemed perfect for him and you. 

.Though Jack is still a yandere and even the best of yanderes have their toxic traits. 

.Anyone that dared hurt you ended up on keter duty and they did not make it out alive. 

.You also did start to notice that less and less people wanted to spend time with you. 

.Leaving you more time for yourself and your husband. 

.Jack told you it is probably because you are the site Commander's wife now. 

.He never gave you any reason not to trust him. 

.Jack cut out only a few people who could be around you, and even then he did not like you alone with them. 

.You never looked at another man or woman. Though he cannot help that one day you will leave him. 

.He has been so used to those he loves and those who were his family being taken away from him or leaving him. 

.So he has a deep fear this will happen to you. 

.Which makes him a very paranoid, protective, and clingy yandere. 

.He also likes to feed you and take care of you, loving when you get sick and he got to feed you, bathe you, and just look after you. 

.For him it made him feel like you needed him and just him. 

.Made you dependent on him, where all you need is your husband. 

.He was always pouty when you got better and would start to take care of yourself once more. 

.He is a very dotting, loving, and caring husband and yandere. 

.But we have to remember Jack Bright is a bit of a mad scientist. 

.So he has moments where his sanity is very unhinged. 

.Like a new researcher starts to hit on you, he would take sick pleasure in hurting them. 

.He also will sometimes go on rants to you that people are trying to steal you away from him. 

.That he knows this in his heart and that he is JUST TRYING TO keep you safe. 

.He has deep fears of losing you and this causes his mental health to be on the edge of sanity as a yandere of being stable and snapping. 

.He deals with rivals by giving them keter duty where they die or cutting them up with a chainsaw, slowly and painfully. 

.He has isolated you, where he has a firm hold on you and you do not even know it. 

.You have already accepted his love, but if you ever decide to leave him? Well, he loves taking care of you, he can take a leg or two and make the files say you terminated. 

.He is high enough up in the foundation where the foundation would not do anything to stop him. 

.YOU Help keep Jack Bright sane, so if you bring one or two legs fewer imprisoned by Jack Bright keeps Jack Bright Sane. Then That is for the greater good. 

.He can easily put you in containment as well since you are an anomaly. 

.That way you are trapped always and of Course Jack Bright will be your caregiver and or researcher. 

.This is all if you tried to leave him. 

.If you never leave him, you have nothing to worry about. 

.You and Jack will have a family and you and him will be happy together, forever, literally FOREVER! 

.Side note since he needs a new body every 30 days you always get a new physical lover that is Jack's new body. 

.So if imprisoned by him, you will never know what face your husband will have, if he is in a male body or female body. 

.It keeps you on edge, cause if you somehow did escape, you would NEVER know if your yandere husband was right there and you do not even realize it! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my Sexy Muffins! 

[xiaoddexingjiutang]

something about Dreadwing become a ghost, in Megatron's Perspective:

One day, Megatron received some anomaly reports, as he did every day. But then he discovered a ghost missing parts of its soul, a shape difficult to recognize but somehow familiar. It was Dreadwing. "If it's you, this will be easy," he thought. Using his rhetoric, Megatron maneuvered Dreadwing back into his old quarters, making sure he stayed put.

It was around the end of season two, so there were still dreams of defeating the Autobots, but this incomplete Dreadwing wasn’t interested in those ambitions. Megatron didn’t pay much attention to him after that since he wasn’t causing any harm.

The phrase "if it's you, this will be easy" was simple: "I could kill you once, I can kill you a second time. Just as I could educate you once, I can do it again." Watching Dreadwing slowly regain his normal cognitive functions felt quite rewarding for Megatron, like caring for a digital pet to relieve stress.

Later, when Starscream became useless, Megatron grew agitated and remembered the ghost. He asked Dreadwing, "If I punish Starscream, will you leave?" Dreadwing replied, "No, that’s not it."

During this period, Dreadwing's cognitive functions gradually improved. Initially, he couldn’t even recognize people. The turning point came around the time Starscream created the zombie soldiers, making Megatron regret killing Dreadwing. Normally, regretting after someone’s death is pointless because nothing can be done. But this was different—a ghost was present.

Megatron initially used Dreadwing as a negative energy dump because he would listen. Then he started sharing some genuine thoughts and past events, like digging up graves. "I thought digging up the enemy’s graves would make you happy," he said.

Dreadwing responded, "That would have made my brother happy. He’s long dead. I no longer find joy in such things."

Megatron immediately realized he was using terms like "class enemy" again after millions of years. He uncovered some real underlying issues, realizing he had forgotten many things, but it was too late. He couldn’t return to the past; he was bound by his actions and could only pursue victory at all costs, leaving other matters for after the victory.

Being Megatron, he asked direct and hurtful questions: "Why don’t you see your brother? How did you end up like this?"

Dreadwing replied, "How should I know? I don’t like being this way either!"

Later, Dreadwing learned some things and began to find peace. From the logs of the Nemesis, he discovered that Megatron had bathed half of Cybertron’s dead in Dark Energon.

Dreadwing thought, "No wonder he doesn’t care about my brother’s corpse; he doesn’t care about anyone’s."

Thus, they exchanged information, influencing each other in certain ways.

When Megatron was stabbed to death by Bumblebee, Dreadwing's ghost also emerged but then disappeared instantly, leaving Megatron furious and in pain: "You little petroleum rabbi , even Starscream couldn't bear to see me go, but you actually want to watch me die!"

### Why Dreadwing Became a Ghost

Why did Dreadwing become a ghost instead of returning to the Well of All Sparks? The real reason was that he was extremely angry, unable to move past his fury. He wanted to see where this purely utilitarian and emotional approach would lead. His conscious mind wouldn’t admit it, but as they began to understand each other, feelings developed.

Why did Dreadwing find peace? He understood Megatron’s view of life and death—not just a focus on utility or victory, but always looking forward, valuing the future over the past, and the living over the dead. He had once been among the important ones, and Megatron had genuinely cultivated him. This realization was a more effective way for Megatron to see his mistakes than being tormented by Unicron. Megatron realized he had strayed far from his original path, but Dreadwing, like a stubborn teenager, kept saying he didn’t want this or that until he finally understood what he did want.

This concept could be titled: "The Desperate Old Leader Meets the Rejuvenated Big Jet."