#he just wasn't himself when he's hangry

[immapeppers]

All of the Valar : "we made beauty n craft 🥰"

Melkor : "you made all that? pfff 🤡 okay"

All of the Valar : *undisturbed*

Melkor's reaction :

in all honesty, I think Melkor will be a nice lad after he eats a donut lol idk he's a lil funky in my eyes 😭😭😭

[m-ayo-o]

jjk char reactions;

"hey baby, welcome home, what have you eaten today?"

"not much" :(

very hungry reader had no time to eat all day! fluffy + crack ish. just the main guys. older yuji + megumi. reader likes a lil spicy food. toji + megumi had some kind of relationship. soft sukuna [suggestive right at the end]

satoru gojo

totally overreacts

he'd find it amusing at first, seeing your pouty, hangry face

he will tease and goad you for being so hungry, with numerous belly pokes and cheek squeezes and saying you look cute like this

he'll pause his blabbering just to hear your tummy rumble and gurgle so he can laugh at you some more

after he's eventually finished mocking you and realises just how hungry you are, he'll pat your head and offer to get you something yummy

proceeds to teleport all over the city to collect your favourite dishes from numerous restaurants

comes home with way too much food, all packaged up in fancy boxes and bags- he can barely carry them all

of course, he got his favourites too- eats with you till you're stuffed

"You had THAT??? All day? Angel, baby, how did you survive? Aww, baby's so hungry she can't even fight back. Oh! You really are- oh, you can't stand up? Ok, just sit down here let me get your favourites. Just tell me what you need, I can get anything you want."

nanami kento

gets slightly annoyed then proceeds to mother you like you're his baby chick

he gets a bit worried; he really cares about you and needs to know you're looking after yourself

if not, he will do it for you

he will get out his cook books, have you flick through them and make a choice for your starter, main and dessert

he'll sit you on the kitchen counter while he makes the most wholesome home cooked meal, that he proceeds to serve beautifully !!!

oh, and of course, he won't be letting you feed yourself ever again- starting from tonight

he'll be taking the food to your mouth himself, just to make sure you eat it all

"That's irresponsible, honey. I can go back to making you packed lunches if you want? It really wasn't that much hassle. Ok, right, we can talk about that later. Just sit up here- yep, good girl. We have lots of fresh ingredients so just tell me whatever you want. Oh, you like my cooking? Good, well let me take care of you."

suguru geto

he's endlessly patient with you

like kento, he will be mothering you <3

he asks what exactly you've eaten in the day while stroking your belly gently

he presses sympathetic kisses to your forehead in the hopes to wipe that miserable expression off your face

of course, it works, and he takes your hand and guides you to the living room

he'll lay you down on the sofa, bring you your favourite drink and get you cosy and comfortable

he'll give you one more kiss before leaving for the kitchen

he puts on his apron and waits on you like you're his damn goddess

"Baby, come here, you've got all hangry now. Come on, I need to see your pretty face smiling ok, don't look so grumpy. Just take my hand, yeah come here. Just sit tight, I'll make your favourites, ok? Mm, does that sound good? Ok, good girl, just wait here for me."

toji fushiguro

condescending, belittling, bit mean

but still gives you the goods... eventually puts on his 'best dad' apron that Megumi got him as a joke but he secretly loves it

spanks your ass for banter but nearly makes you fall over

picks you up over his shoulder when he realises what kind of state you're in

plonks you on the sofa and strolls to the kitchen

he's not rushing around for you, he doesn't show you much sympathy in his words- but the food he gives you... says it all

places a little kiss on your cheek and tells you to enjoy the meal (it's so much that you will be full for all of tomorrow as well)

"What? That's nothing, doll. What's up with you? You didn't have any cash? No time, huh. 'kay, well since you're too dumb to prepare food for the day yourself guess I'll have to do it now, hm. Jesus- 'soon as one kid grows up and moves out, looks like I've got myself another one huh? Right, you're not my girl. And I'm not your daddy?"

megumi fushiguro

acts as though it's not his problem- which it really isn't but you're feeling so needy that you just want him to buckle this once and show you some sympathy

you have to spell it out for him that you want him to help you

but once he understands that you want him to take care of you, he feels this odd sense of pride that you're asking

and of course, you've tasted his cooking before- he's amazing and you'd love to encourage him to do it more often

he knows what you like already, so he just cooks in silence and serves you the most delicious meal, filled with all the right spices

it doesn't blow your head off, but gets your tongue tingling in the most satisfying way

once you're done he tidies up immediately and asks if everything was alright

feels more relaxed now you've got everything you need- curls up on the sofa with you and snuggles all night

reminds you to eat well by text every day from now on

"Uh huh. Right. Are you going to make something then? What are you looking at? Oh, you want me to do it? Uh, ok, sure. I suppose I'm not too bad at cooking. Good, I'm glad you liked it. Sure, I can cook for you more often."

yuji itadori

like satoru, flaps around and overreacts like crazy

accidentally makes it worse by talking about all the delicious foods he'd like to eat right now if he were hungry

apologises profusely when he hears your belly rumble and immediately offers to buy you take out

starts to feel sorry that you've had such a hectic day that you couldn't even eat properly

carries you to the sofa like you're his princess and lays you down there with your favourite show on tv

shows you lots of affection and sympathy <3

sits with you and gives you little kisses till your food arrives

"What!!! I can't even imagine how hungry I'd be if that's all I ate! Are you kidding??? That's crazy, there are so many yummy places to eat out there sweetie, you couldn't choose or something? No, oh you just didn't have enough time? Oh wow, you must've been so busy baby, let me order something for you right away!!"

ryomen sukuna

he'd act like the most annoying dad at first

proceeds to chastise you like you're some kind of idiot for not being able to get a good meal all day long

teases you for what feels like an eternity, making shitty jokes about how many mouths he has to feed

finally lets up when you get on your knees on the kitchen floor to start raiding the cupboards

picks you up and you cling to him like a lil baby monkey, trying to kiss his tattooed face when he sets you on the sofa surprisingly lovingly

he just pushes you off and heads to the kitchen

he's never cooked for you before, but it's surprisingly good and you eat it all so quickly he chuckles and offers you dessert by tugging at the waistband of his pants

"Silly girl, can't even take care of herself. Ok, ok, chill out. I'm only kidding, let me do it. Here, you really are a useless brat. Just- no- lie down if you can't do anything else. Yes, I'll make something for you. Whatever. O-oh, you're still hungry...?"

reblog if ur hungry lol also idk what happened to me with this one- will never write fluff again haha

[appleblueberry-pie]

sigh can't stop thinking abt him

you love making him mad. he looks so good when he's kneading the bread with a force you haven't seen from him before. he looks so good with those veins popping out of his head and arms. looks so good gritting his teeth and muttering profanities underneath his breath. you ruined his entiiiiire day.

first, you misplaced his work clothes. had the laundry running in the morning instead of the night, so he had to wait for the dryer to be done with his stuff. that made him about 30 minutes late to work. then you didn't make him breakfast because you overslept and 'forgot'. that way he'd come home hangry and cranky. then you didn't even make him dinner either. and as a man that you've been spoiling for years, he gets upset when he hasn't had his fill of food.

so instead of overspending some more at a random restaurant, he decided to make his own stuff since you wanted to be a hardass.

as he kneaded the bread, he tried not to, but began thinking of the other things that you had done throughout the day. you didn't answer to any of his texts today. you came home late. you didn't even make proper conversation with him to fix all of these problems you caused throughout the day, so he knew that you were purposefully causing trouble then.

and even after all of that, you decided to try and get back on his good side again. kissing his cheek to greet him, asking if he needed help and that you'll run him a bath. he promptly ignored you like you did to him all day and continued roughly kneading the dough before quickly placing it into the bowl to continue making his own meal. you fiddled with your cotton night dress before softly saying you'll just clean up around the house instead.

you didn't. you just laid on the couch and watched him cook.

he didn't even want to eat anymore. he was too pissed and horny. his stomach kept twisting and turning and he didn't even want anything you would cook either. he just wanted to bury his face into your pussy and call it a night.

he wanted to fuck you. he watched himself get hard and let out a shaky sigh, gripping the counter with an inch of his life. he couldn't give into you, not like this. not after what you've been doing all day. but in the back of his head, he knew he'd give in like every other time.

as you've said before, you loved to piss him off. but you'd never tease him. you wanted him to come to you, give into you and chase after you. acting innocent when you really weren't was the most amusing thing you've ever done, in your opinion. and it works on him every time. even if he couldn't see, you watched him with worry on your face and excitement staining your panties.

Kento wanted you so damn bad. he turned and saw you already staring at him and he watched you look away. he promptly turned off the oven that wasn't of use anymore and walked over to you, ordering you to look at him. you sat up and stared up at him, seeing his stone cold face and got (fake and real) nervous.

he roughly grabs your soft and warm face, making you whine in slight discomfort at his sudden actions. you blinked your glossy eyes up at him, not knowing what he'd do and wanted to ask. before you could, he let go and sighed heavily, moving your body to make you lay on your stomach on the couch. you tried to sit up, but he had straddled your legs to make sure you wouldn't move. when you spoke out his name, he threatened to shove his sack into your mouth to busy your mouth with his gold instead of nasty words for once.

you were nearly immobile and wasn't allowed to speak as his wandering hands tore your favorite pair of underwear so he could stick two of his thick fingers into your sopping and aching pussy. a long whine was pulled out of your throat as his fingers slowly thrusted in and out, curling in that special spot as he began your punishment that felt more like a reward than anything. he knew you liked when he was rough, so you didn't know what he'd expect if you didn't cry as much as he'd want you to.....not like you'd say that out loud, though.

his hot mouth kissed and slobbered on your neck while his fingers thrusted faster inside of you, creating that delicious feeling of cramps of so much pleasure that made you attempt to squirm underneath him. you moaned louder at the feeling and Kento groaned as his bulge rubbed against your bare ass cheeks.

you wanted to call out his name, but knew it would serve no purpose unless you wanted him to mock you and call you names. he suddenly pulled out his fingers and sucked what was inside of you off of his own digits. you looked back at him slowly and he grabbed the back of your neck.

"I wonder where you get your attitude from."

You roll your eyes at his statement and look back at him as far as you can turn your restricted head. "only one guy i could get it from." he scowled at your answer. "Little girl,"

you wanted to smile so bad at his answer and considered asking him straight up to put it in. "I didn't teach you to talk to me like that."

"no, you didn't, sir." he leans over you and mutters into your temple, "tell me who's pussy this is." you crane your neck back to try and reach to his lips even though you really can't. "yours, sir." you whisper, heart beating erratically in your chest.

"yeah?" your mind seemed to slip into a headspace the more he asked if you were his. and like clockwork, your mouth fixed to speak the words you both wanted to hear. "ye-" you cut off your own words with a gasp as his cock head stretches your entrance, his warm length filling every part of you like you wished he would since a few days ago. that burning desire to have him in you and fuck you like he hated you that burned into the back of your mind, now resurfaced as he continued pushing inside of you.

you couldn't speak, your mouth remaining agape at the feeling and his hands tightening around your neck and waist. he kept whispering praises to you at his first act of the night which managed a small whimper out of you. he pulls back out slowly, the feeling of him being pulled away too, before he pushes back in. your hands find any part of the couch to grab on, clutching it tightly as you automatically grind back into his hips in hopes for him to reach deeper. he calls you little nicknames when even at your most useless state, you find it in you to take more out of him.

a few minutes pass by, and he's already set at a comfortable fucking speed, a soft clap sounding in the air when you two continue to collide. if he looked close enough, your essence covered the base of his dick and would continue to build there until he decided to stop or it would drip down occasionally.

louder moans were pulled out of you, words not even in your mental dictionary anymore since the only thing you could focus on was him. you couldn't answer any questions and didn't even respond to any of the sly comments he made to make fun of your quick submission. you wanted to feel him, this position on the couch making it hard for you to do so. as if he understood your unintelligible jumble of sounds, he leaned down closer to you, his chest touching your back and his hands reaching around to touch whatever he wanted on your body. he stopped thrusting for a bit for you to catch your breath and you softly panted, your hands finding his own. Kento hummed in appreciation and pecked at your face from behind.

"You ready to talk nice to me again?" You nodded and told him yes. He chuckled at how dream-like your voice had sounded and dug his nose into your hair. "We'll see about that tomorrow morning. Until then....you got until later tonight to prove yourself to me again."

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Hi! I just scrolled through your blog and loved your writing, so I decided to make a request! I was wondering if you could write fem!reader x Lucifer where they're kind of just hanging out but R is kind of grumpy and Luci is subtly (but not subtly cause lord knows he's too awkward to be good at hiding things) trying to figure out what it is. R kind of just dismisses him while scrolling on their phone and Lucifer's like "let me try something..." and just slides a snack to R to which she nibbles on and then becomes normal again. Bonus points if she apologizes when she realizes she was being mean without meaning to. Anyway, this got long. If you decide not to write this, I understand. If you do, you are required to drink water and eat a snack too at some point. Love you and your writing! <3

A/N — OOOOOHHHHHHH anon I love you for requesting this 😭💖 thank you so much! It's just a little short, but I wasn't sure what else to add lol

Hangry | Lucifer x Fem!Reader

Warnings: reader being a little mean, Lucifer being loving and understanding

Word Count: 489

Summary: Luci forces you to eat something after you unintentionally snap at him.

On a couch, in a palace, in hell, there was you. Glorious you. The very one who kept Lucifer sane — his Heavenly best friend turned perfect stepmother to his beloved daughter, which was a more recent (and super awesome) development. 

He could tell just by looking at you that you weren't exactly feeling the best — it was clear by the present frown and the way your brows furrowed every once in a while, as if you were fighting something. 

For a split second, he thought you were sick. But as he placed his hands all over your face, forcing you to look away from your phone screen, he soon realized that you weren't sick.

“Sorry. . .” He mumbled when you set your darkened glare on him.

You rolled your eyes, looking back to your phone. There was important stuff going on. Meetings to be scheduled. You didn't have time for anything else. 

“Did you sleep?” Lucifer questioned not even five minutes later. 

You sighed, irritated, practically growling out your answer. “Yes.” 

“Okay. . . Well how long did you —”

“GOD! Can you give me five fucking minutes to do my job, Lucifer!?”

He was momentarily taken aback by your harsh tone,  but then it was as if a light bulb went off in his head and he stood from where he had previously planted himself in front of you. 

Guilt began to settle in your being as you nestled yourself further in the couch to continue working. You hadn't expected him to leave — just maybe stop hovering like you were going to spontaneously combust and disappear.

You knew he meant well, but you just weren't feeling it. Any of it.

Five minutes later he returned with a plate that had your favorite sandwich and bag of chips on top, snatching your phone out of your hand and replacing it with the plate and a bottle of your favorite drink. 

You growled. “Luci—” 

“Eat.” He demanded, holding your phone out of your reach. 

And you did. That first bite of the sandwich made you realize that you hadn't eaten breakfast. . . Or lunch. . . You felt better immediately, which showed him instantly what the problem had been. 

Once you finished, you sat in silence, trying to figure our what to say. . . It ended up being a ‘thank you’ that was said so low it was almost missed in the quiet room.

“You feel better?” He asked.

“Yeah. . . I'm sorry I snapped at you — I didn't mean to. . .” You trailed off when he grabbed your face in his hands and forced you to look at him. 

“I forgave you the moment you started eating. Before anything, you're my best friend, and we don't need you being hangry.” 

“Wife.” You corrected with a slight smile.

“Even better.” He grinned, placing sweet kisses all over your face — even the tip of your nose. Yeah. . . You were definitely forgiven. 

So long as you remembered to eat and stay hydrated.

[daddy-suguru]

𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫 ❥ 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮

ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs | light somnophilia, hints at the night before, cock-warming, teasing, fucking you even though your trying to talk to satoru on the other side of the door, praise

Suguru is still inside of you. Throbbing, when you clench around him you can feel his pulse in every fat vein. While his large head rubbed your cervix, you never knew a man could reach so deep. Or that you could ache so sweetly.

Hazy memories of last night's activities flood your mind. The sweet mixed drinks you mixed, and the fat blunts he rolled. Along with the slow music from one of Suguru's many chill playlists.

Then there were Suguru's large hands, his lips on your neck, and his soft hair between your fingers. Followed by your legs over his shoulders, clawing his backside up. While his heavy raspy groans and the face he makes when he cummed deep inside of you.

Sliding Suguru's cock out of you, his fat tip parting your wet lips. His grasp on your hips tightens while Suguru grumbles, "Nnno!" Pulling you flush against his body, slipping deep into you.

Rolling you onto your stomach, pinning your body to the bed beneath him. His long dark hair falls forward onto the pillow, blocking your view of his bookcase. Sliding your hand into his hair, holding as much of it as you can.

Begging, "Don't stop, nng fuck I'm, I'm nngh!" With every slow roll of Suguru's hips, his heavy cock drags along your sweet spot. Stroking the tension in your gut thicker as you muffle your groan with his pillow.

Suguru slides his fingers through yours while pointing out. "But weren't you just pulling away? Maybe I should stop." He pulls out, lifting his body off your's causing you to let go of his hair. Which tickles your back before he runs his hands through his hair. Pulling it back over his shoulder, only for it to fall forward moments later.

His cock's heavy, large tip hits your lips. Pushing your hips back, trying to push him inside while his cock slides down to your clit. Slipping between your slicked-up thighs. As you whine,

"I was just thirsty, I was going to come back for some more cuddles!" Suguru chuckles folding both of your arms behind your back. While pulling his body off yours you plead,

"Ok I believe you, sweetheart. You're so clingy. If it wasn't for you being able to get cuddles from either one of us, I'm sure your pretty self would wither away." Missing the warmth of his throbbing cock.

Suguru pulls your ass up in the air, spreading your legs apart. While lining himself up as you hear, "Sug don't chew my head off, I'm getting strawberry pancakes from Sweet Mary's. Do you want anything?" Burying into the pillow to muffle back your groans while Suguru slowly nudges himself past.

Pulling your face out of the pillow by the hold he has on your wists. Causing you to bite into your bottom lip holding back your moans. You can hear the smirk in Suguru's voice as he responds,

"Usual for me, and our beautiful princess is in here with me." If Satoru opens the door now, he'll see Suguru's marked-up, muscular backside. Along with Suguru's thick ass, with your calves next to Suguru's knees. While you are bent over in front of him. Taking his cock while your slick drips down your thighs and his balls.

Attempting to gather yourself as Suguru's deep slow strokes make it challenging to answer Satoru's question, "What are you wanting after you're done waking up and snuggling?" You can't think of anything on the menu. As Suguru leans over your body, softly kissing your shoulder.

Suguru reaches between your legs stroking your clit while you all but moan, "Surprise meeee!" Changing it into a needy grumpy whine. While you hear Satoru chastises,

"So grumpy, it's not even that early in the morning. You must be hangry, poor Sug trapped in there with you." You hear his keys jingling, getting further away as Satoru walks off. While you fight the urge to moan as Suguru picks up his pace getting harder with each quick stroke.

If Satoru is anywhere near, he's hearing Suguru's bed creaking and his headboard thumping against his dark blue wall. Along with your loud moans, since you can't hold them back anymore.

Suguru's loud, heavy groans mix with each loud squelching stroke followed by the slap of his balls hitting your clit. It's too much, and when he leans over, teasing you, "You got tighter around me hearing him. Did you want him to open up the door and join us? He could slip his handsome cock inside your soft pretty little princess pussy with mine." Your gushing on his cock.

m.list

[sadistic-kiss]

Use Me (Kinktober Fic)

SuccubusReader x VariousJJKMen

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Four.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

Toji Fushiguro.

He had no curse energy but what was surprising was he could still feed you. You don't know what it was that filled your belly, whether it be divine energy or just his life force. If it's his life force then that meant every time he slept with you he was shaving off time. Even after explaining this to him, he had only laughed it off and said he was here for a good time not a long time.

Apparently, so was the other guy but everyone didn't take that so lightly so what the fuck. You did not understand these humans… or maybe it was just these men.

You turn around, pressing your back against the door as you look up at the man under your lashes. Sukuna and Toji were very similar in their sadistic ways. They were butt buddies after all. Toji was just more dormant about it. You weren't even going to waste the energy you got from Yu, no point.

"What?"

"You made Haibara lie?" Toji teased. "Nanami did say you were a bad influence on him."

"He…chose to lie…"

Toji chuckled, "Yeah, for you."

You shrug, "And you choose to risk your life sleeping with me, where is this going I'm starving."

"Ouch." Toji hissed as if he were in pain, "I forgot how bratty you can get when you are hangry." He grinned looking you over with a slow lean of his head. "You want daddy to feed you?"

"Yes!" You went for him, desperate for a kiss but he grabbed your neck and pushed you back into the door.

"Ah ah…" he chuckled at your pout-dammit you got excited too soon!- "Shouldn't you be on the ground kitten?" He questioned with a playful brow.

You glanced down, seeing his semi-hard cock, your heart began to race with anticipation. You slid against the door as Toji praised you for being a good girl, thumb rubbing your neck. Your eyes were focused on your prize, mouth-watering, all the way until your knees landed on the plush rug.

With his other hand, Toji pumped himself a few times, squeezing the tip of his cock. Your eyes fluttered, watching the precum leak upon his thumb. You whimpered looking up at him. Pleading for this taste.

"Such a needy girl…" he purred bringing his thumb to you which you accepted with greed.

You moaned, licking his cum off his thumb. It was just a drop- but dammit it was so good and you needed more. It seemed Toji had decided to bless you this night. He pulled you forward so you could take him.

"Go on spoiled brat."

You didn't need to be told twice! You plopped off his thumb to sink your mouth upon him. Your body hummed to life as you danced on your knees while sucking and licking Toji's massive length.

"Fuck…" Toji breathed while running a hand through his wet black hair. "…You look so good worshipping my cock baby."

Your eyes rolled in pleasure, you could feel your curse mark dance upon your stomach, slowly appearing as if someone were drawing it.

Toji's phone chimed, he glanced at it and then snorted, "The party is about to start." He reached down pulling you off his cock. "Open your mouth."

You chirped excitedly doing as he said. He began to jerk off, fisting himself as he spoke through his grunting.

"You want my cum?"

"Yes! Yes! Mmm~!" You moaned, you wanted it so bad your eyes were watering. You couldn't believe it! He was going to feed you!

"You gonna swallow it all?"

"Yes, Daddy!"

Toji released a curse as he grunted- you opened your mouth as wide as you could and for some reason, he had moved his other hand to cover your eyes. You didn't think much of it, too ready for your euphoric release but that wasn't until you could smell your food but couldn't taste it.

You pushed his hand out of the way just in time to see him finishing wiping his cock with tissue and throwing it into the toilet.

"Noooo!" You chased after it like a dog but you didn't make it in time. Watching in horror as your delicious treat was swirled and gulped down by the toilet. You almost started crying, but hearing Toji laugh at your demise made you downright furious.

Fucking asshole.

~

"Where the hell is my bubble machine?" Gojo hissed while calling the company. He was in the kitchen walking around aimlessly, phone pressed to his ear.

Getou, dressed as a Roman soldier, was sitting on the counter. "I'm sure it'll be here soon."

Gojo scoffed, "Soon? The party is about to start- ah yes hello? Yeah, I'm calling because I ordered a bubble machine, and funny story I couldn't help but notice that it's not here!"

Everyone watched the spoiled man stomp away to complain.

Sukuna snorted, "A better question is where did our pet go?"

Choso shrugged, "We couldn't find her."

Nanami returned to his earlier suggestion, "She may have left."

Sukuna sounded pissed, "You really think she went somewhere else?"

Getou also seemed annoyed by that idea, "Our kitten wouldn't cheat on us."

Choso was starting to have doubts, "Maybe she got tired of us since we didn't feed her."

There was a pause as all eyes shifted to Yu who was now dressed in his Viking costume. "Wh-what? Why-why uh is everyone looking at me?" He looked around as guilty as ever.

"You don't have any input on our missing pet?"

"Uh… well…I think…oh! There she is!" Yu pointed as Toji walked in with you thrown over his shoulder.

The man was wearing his Viking gear, body scratched up like he fought a wild cat. Fresh nail marks no doubt from your claws.

Sukuna pointed an accusing finger at him, "Hey, did you fuck her?"

That only made Toji bark out a laugh, "Ha! No- quite the opposite." He set you down in your fluffy pink bed.

Immediately you turned around looking away from them, deciding the wall deserved your attention much more than them.

Gojo had just gotten off the phone, coming back in, he pointed toward you, "What's wrong with her?"

Toji explained how he flushed his cum and then how angry you got afterward, scratching and biting him as he finished showering and got ready.

Of course, they exploded in laughter, followed by saying how cute you were.

You roll your eyes glaring so hard at the wall that it was a surprise it didn't burn into flames.

Someone pat your head but you didn't turn around.

"Don't worry sweetheart," Gojo spoke, letting you know it was him, you glanced up as he grinned "…we will make sure you are nice and fed before you leave. You know we always take care of you." He chuckled. The doorbell rang making him clap his hands, "Guests are here~! Choso! Go put on your costume! Vikings or Romans, hurry up!"

You continued to pout even though you knew Gojo's words to be true.

"Hey, pet come take a shot with us."

You will be more than satisfied by the end of the night.

.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.Chapter Five.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.

[the-writer-in-the-winter-forest]

OK, hear me out!

Miguel wasn't ticked at Miles for just disrupting a "Canon Event." Migs was pissed cuz Miles disrupted a, "Miguel is getting laid event."

Terrible title, I know.

No wonder the guy threw a trash can, Migs was dealing with sexual frustration ON TOP of an error code happening in Mumbatten. That was just the cherry on the sundae 🍨

Man needed that platform to be decending slowly in order to cool himself down.

Miles and Co are not who Miguel wanted to be showing off his back muscles to.

Miguel doesn't need to explain when he says, "Do the thing." During his sexual escapades. He forgot that when he said it to Lyla.

The dude was in the middle of his breeding kink, Peter. Please stop showing off your adorable baby!!

Lyla is over here trying to warn the group by saying, "Miguel sounds hangry." Girl, I think you mean HORNY!!

My fanfic on this coming soon.

[zarvasace]

The last, and probably my current favorites of the bunch: Prince and Mirage, dark Warriors and dark Legend! I keep trying to put the images side-by-side so they don't take up as much room but Tumblr HATES that. Sorry.

My document with all these boys' descriptions on it is over 7k words. Holy heck. Hope you like them. XD Masterpost

More information and art beneath the cut yayyy

Prince

Prince is dark Warriors. 

Cia gave Warriors a lot of unwanted attention, which he spurned. Prince, on the other hand, wouldn't just accept the attention, but would have welcomed it. He wasn't entirely autonomous when he was summoned, but he remembers everything. He knows that he never wants to not be in control of himself ever again.

Instead of championing freedom, however, Prince makes a point of controlling others. If he controls them, they can't control him. Shackle is similar, but they have different methods. While Shackle prefers physical subjugation to be sure they're in his power, Prince uses manipulation. He pretends to be your friend, all the while gaining your trust. His job is made all the easier by his own special talent: Charm. 

Prince’s Charm is a supernatural ability to influence people. Where Madness takes over bodies, Prince sways the mind. His Charm is something he can turn on and off at will, at different intensities. It doesn't work well on any being with too much light, but it does work on criminals or people with guilt and secrets. The other Darks are susceptible to it, though after… an incident… Prince doesn't do it to them. Usually. 

It works like this: Prince identifies his target, which can be an individual or an entire crowd. He turns his Charm on intentionally, and depending on how hard he pushes, his target’s attention is drawn to his face. Because he does not look human, he then has to quickly begin talking, to pour even more Charm on. If he does it right (it does require skill and charisma), the target forgets his appearance is anything out of the ordinary. He needs a minute or two of conversation and rakish smiles to dig his claws deep enough that they don't remember anything unusual once they stop looking right at him. Prince uses his Charm to get information, favors, and generally spread his anti-Link agenda. The riskier or weirder his request is, the more Charm he has to layer on, and some people just straight up won't do some things. The Charm wears off after a while, depending on the target and how long they were exposed to it, which takes anywhere from a few minutes to a few weeks, averaging out at a day or two. 

Prince has to choose his targets wisely, which can be difficult to do because he does not look human and does not have any kind of magical disguise. That last point is a sore spot. He doesn't want a disguise, he just wants people to stop looking at him like he's going to burn their house down, thank you very much. He only has their best interests at heart. Prince is bitter and extremely envious about Warriors winning hearts so easily thanks to his good looks and natural charisma, so Prince does his best to do the same without them. His Charm is better anyway. 

…It's a good thing he hasn't actually been let loose on a population yet. 

(Warriors is a bit of a flirt, but not too badly. Prince makes a game out of trying to make people fall in romantic love with him as fast as he can. (Author’s note: I'm not touching sex. That is not the sort of story I want to tell here.))

Prince doesn't need food, and he doesn't need to breathe, but he does need to use his Charm. Because he magically learns a bit of information about his targets when he's focused on them, his theory is that he leeches from their emotions, or their identities, or something of that sort. He hasn't shared the theory with anyone, but the Dark Chain does know that Prince needs to use his Charm or he starts to get very, very hangry. It's a physical need for him. Of course, pushing too hard or trying to Charm too many people at once gives him migraines. 

Prince considers himself a leader, and it rankles him a bit that Depth is the one in charge. He contents himself with sitting back and letting Depth do all the hard things, though he has Charmed Depth several times into going along with what Prince wants to do. Prince sees Shackle as a sort of protege in the ways of manipulation, and occasionally provides pointers about how to subtly get under people’s skin. Prince and Madness end up working together a lot, since Prince can Charm Madness’s thralls into forgetting they ever lost time, or he can make up memories for them. Sometimes the two of them get migraines at the same time, which spells out lots of “fun” for everyone else. He fights a lot with Mirage and is always trying to catch Agony off-guard to give him a good scrubbing. He's the only reason that Nothing or Dire get baths, too. 

Prince is arrogant and ambitious, yes. He's proud of his appearance and does his best to stay clean and orderly—he doesn't mind the memories of military training that he gets from Warriors, since those routines help him to be efficient. He wears a copy of Warriors’s outfit, but fancier, with a fluffy shirt and a corset on top, and his tunic is purple because (1) it's opposite green on some color wheels and (2) it's the color of royalty. His silvery hair is a little longer than Warriors’s is, and he wears a luxurious red cape.

Sometimes he puts a little too much flair into his moves, but he's proficient with as many weapons as Warriors is, if less practiced. He talks a lot, boasts a lot, and casually jabs where it hurts. He holds a lot of jealousy and hate in his heart, and if he gets a little drunk, he'll go on and on about how much he dislikes Warriors, specifically. 

Prince’s ultimate ambition is to rule his Hyrule as undisputed, beloved emperor. He wants to do that by winning the hearts of every soldier, every servant, every noble. He wants to steal Warriors’s relationships right out from under him without him noticing. Prince knows that he can't rely on his temporary Charm to do that, though, so his plan is to ally with the organizations of traitors throughout Hyrule and add his persuasive charm and Charm to their efforts, eventually rising to become their leader. 

Prince’s best dreams involve him standing over a defeated Warriors on the balcony of the castle, a crown on his head and a queen on his arm (or king. He just thinks stealing Artemis or Impa would make it all the sweeter), with crowds below cheering for him. He has plans to keep the aging Warriors as an honored “guest” in the castle for as long as he lives, doomed to watch his beloved, darkened kingdom flourish under Prince’s ruby eyes. Someday, Prince will change his name to Link, stealing that from Warriors, too. 

Prince Link. Wait, no. King Link. No, even better… Emperor Link. 

Actually, he doesn't like the sound of Emperor. He’ll workshop that title.  

Mirage

Mirage is dark Legend, patterned after the Nightmares that Legend fought on Koholint. He knows Legend will know that immediately. 

Mirage is truly shape-fluid. His form is extremely malleable, though he can't keep up looking perfectly like a human for more than half an hour or so—he starts to melt and revert back to his most comfortable state, which is a close copy of Legend, his matter constantly shifting and dripping and melting. (Most comfortable state, not his true form. Does he have a true form? He doesn't know what it is if he does.) He is best at mimicking nonspecific human forms and small reptiles. He pretended to be a bush once, but wasn't very convincing. 

Mirage’s gooey flesh doesn't have many pain or touch receptors, and he doesn't need any kind of structure beneath the goo to stand up. He's very good at energy dispersion, so punching him means that you're either punching a brick wall or that your fist is getting absorbed. His goo is as warm as flesh and very slightly acidic, so touching him for too long can burn. He doesn't need to breathe, but he does digest organic material or minerals to build on his mass. He's weak against energy-type attacks, like acid or fire or ice, but it doesn't hurt him in the traditional sense and he can always build himself back up. He can drop entirely flat and easily squeezes through small gaps. 

Most traditional dungeon traps do absolutely nothing to Mirage: spike traps don't hurt him, as holes in his form mean nothing; he doesn't really take fall damage, just splatters a bit until he can pull himself together; giant axes that cleave him in two don't actually hurt him, either. There is one small part of Mirage’s matter that is his core. If he gets cut into pieces, the rest of him will shrivel up and evaporate in an hour or two, but his core stays alive and can regrow in a matter of days. If he gets to any cut-off piece before it evaporates, he can reassimilate it. He often messes with his form to take on any physical challenge: looking around corners with an eye on a hand; growing taller to see over a wall; spreading out his feet and legs to float on water; squeezing into cracks in an ice block and expanding in the right spot to make it all shatter. 

Mirage doesn't speak often, preferring to keep quiet. His voice is soft and slithering, with hissing Ss and a pitch that ranges from whispery to shrill. It's the worst voice in the group after Depth’s. He isn't the smartest of the Darks, but he is quite observant and if he does speak up, there's something important to pay attention to. Mirage often just goes with the group decisions, performing whatever role they require, though privately he absolutely resents having to work with anyone else, because Mirage works alone. He doesn't need companions, friends, shopkeepers, or family; he doesn't need vehicles, mounts, money, magic items, or even weapons. When he means alone, he means Very Alone. 

The thing about Legend—despite the masks and attitude he puts on—is that he cares, so so much. He cares about people being happy and safe, he bonds with everyone nice he meets whether he knows it or not, he is self-sacrificing and always working for a better world, even when people don't ask for it. Mirage does not care about much of anything except himself. He would be most content wandering around a mountain, causing a bit of chaos in a nearby town, and using his abilities to traverse impossible paths, especially through caves, just because he can. He doesn't care about the other Darks (that's a bit more of a lie than he thinks it is), he doesn't care about Legend, he doesn't care about covering the world in darkness. He’s just dragged around and knows that they have to finish this stupid mission thing before he can be left in peace. 

Mirage is somewhat fascinated with the way humans work. He's closer to an octopus or other eldritch sea creature himself, and mimics reptilian forms, but the more he learns about humans, the better he can mimic them. He might not care much about many things, but he's curious. He likes to investigate corpses (especially if he can eat them—the Dark Chain’s favorite way of “disappearing” people) and find out new things about their anatomy and chemical compositions, things he knows about and can memorize to reproduce in his own gooey flesh later. As such, he sometimes annoys the other Darks by poking at them or “testing” their senses or limits. 

He gets along best with Lost, who doesn't care much, either, and doesn't get mad at his questions or testing. Mirage responds by taking Lost babysitting duty more than his fair share. (His apathy means he's really patient with Lost and Nothing and Madness.) He makes a good team with Agony, who he sees as very similar to himself, except Agony is clearly more driven. Agony is the quick and sharp counterpart to Mirage’s slow and inevitable destruction. (And it doesn't hurt that Agony is the electricity wielder among them, so if Agony sort of likes Mirage, then all the better.) 

In a normal fight, Mirage is all but indestructible, walking through battle without problems. He doesn't bother attacking until someone hurts him, usually with fire or something similar. Then Mirage will focus to get rid of the threat—and he’s aware that the others expect him to target and take out Legend, so he does that if he has to. He's all but impossible to fight without elemental aid, and while he isn't too quick, he hits HARD and has a lot of tricks up his metaphorical sleeves. 

Still, the fact remains that if you manage to hurt him, you hurt him a lot. Mirage isn't complicated, but he's very flexible and can do things nobody is prepared for. 

(sorry for the low contrast. But hey, my goo-drawing skills are finally relevant! Look at that hat! And the foot!)

[24-05txt]

OH MY GOD

THE ZOMBIE AU

*Snarls ferally, but respectively*

MORE

*rattles the bars of my cage... Also respectfully*

So like..... 👀 I JUST WANT MORE. OMG PLEASE, THATS TOO GOOD 😭❤️❤️❤️

THANK U TGANK U THANK U i also want more fr.

Also you can rattle disrespectfully idm

IM GLAD U LIKED IT THO !! I'm always thinkin of AUs but so rarely do they spawn an actual creation like that journal entry

Uhmmm a lot of my thoughts on this got lost to the sauce in the big ghoap server, but here are some things I remember/just came up with:

- Ghost totally eats people too. He's not infected he's just a freak and a ride or die. If Soap is eating human flesh he is too. If he could get bit without compromising his ability to care for Soap by God he would be bit by now. Unfortunately he needs the fine motor control so he'll just keep LARPing as a zombie instead.

- Soap isn't dead TECHNICALLY. His heart stopped and restarted at some point but he does breathe and bleed and eat. I haven't decided exactly how the zombies work but if you've ever read the contaminated series by Em Garner, I'm thinkin it's something like that.

- that being said Soap can also talk. Not very WELL he doesn't have a great grasp of words anymore or very precise control of his lips/tongue but he CAN. Can also clearly still understand some things but draws complete blanks on others. Yes he knows what formation he's being asked to fall into but no he doesn't know how to hold that gun (not that anyone would want to hand him a gun)

- one more note about the zombies: Soap isn't the only "nonviolent" one (He's plenty violent just not without reason) but he is part of the minority and my boy is HUNGRY. Most other zombies have the hunger and VERY little else so they're just hangry and they can't eat ANYTHING because suddenly they can't keep anything down except raw meat and while that isn't limited to humans it definitely doesn't exclude them lol. Soap got to keep a fair amount of his auuhh (forgetting the word I want to use so—) cognition(?). He recognizes that he's hungry but doesn't lose control of himself about it yk.

- Ghost did not actually break out of quarantine, Gaz let him out & Price knows it, but can't blame him. Soap was looking real rough because he was starving, Ghost was only barely eating and so when Ghost started working at the door Gaz was like "Man. The degree to which this sucks is untenable. Yall may be batshit but you are my team" and he just opened the door. And they ARE team and so Ghost obv didn't kill HIM for food. And Soap wasn't going to either bc that's Gaz. Gaz is friend, not food.

- Price, as much as he can logically be like "Gaz disobeyed a direct order and put us all in danger. Ghost has lost his mind and Soap could snap at any moment" he doesn't have the heart to actually DO anything those are his boys!!! Not like anyone's keeping a super close eye on them anyway bc who has the time to give the stinkeye to a single task force when the world's on fucking fire. AND WHOS GONNA TATTLE ON THE GUY WITH A PET ZOMBIE?? NOT ME!! Live ur best life man.

Ran out of thoughts ty for asking I super appreciate it <3

[rebornologist]

♡ Misc. Varia Headcanons ✧ 2 of 2

I'm finally finishing what I started.

♡ Xanxus smells like whisky in a wood smoked glass, a recently snuffed candle, leather, iron, and pomade.

He has really fast metabolism, which is why he seems to always be hungry. Just as quickly as he gets tipsy off of a few drinks, him standing around, drinking some water, or eating something tends to make him sober up. He's built up some impressive tolerance for alcohol through the years and would absolutely body a drinking contest if he ever stooped to such a level.

He likes a lot of cracked black pepper in his steak and isn't as much of a fan of garlic and onions. He appreciates herby notes like thyme, bay leaves, and rosemary, especially with a gamey meat like lamb. He hates vegetables. Partially because he's a hypermasculine weirdo, and partially because they leave him hungry soon after eating, and he just gets ridiculously hangry.

Speaking of hangry, it's because he often suffered from hunger pains as a child. His mother was not well-off, and they only had just enough to get by. That changed when he was taken in by Timoteo. He doesn't remember much of his time with his birth mother because he was so young, but the pain of a ghrelin spike just makes him feel absolutely awful and sets him off.

Xanxus isn't a huge desserts guy but appreciates a good chocolate mousse or a homemade flan. He has a soft spot for a very boozy tiramisu. He learned the base recipe from Timoteo, but the extra rum is his own personal touch. He doesn't drink coffee (it makes his hands shake and it bothers him a lot) but will tolerate it when it's in dessert.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

♡ Mammon smells like dust, an incoming thunderstorm, baby powder, and refrigerant. They use mild, unscented, sensitive (baby) soap by choice, because it's cheap and it works.

They enjoy playing mahjong because of the sensory component. Cards comes close in second, but they aren't as good at cards and unwilling it gamble with cards as much as they do with mahjong. It's pretty easy for an illusionist to create multiplier tiles out of nothing, so they’re somewhat of a mahjong master.

Mammon gets more easily stressed than they let on. They always have a million thoughts running through their mind, and they are fairly bad at mindfulness or meditation, surprisingly. Their vivid visualization abilities make it extremely difficult to clear their mind. They are prone of stress nightmares, and do not sleep as much as they should as a result. They absolutely are a night owl and make up for it through occasional midday naps.

୨୧ ⁺˳₊

♡ Squalo is a fairly good driver, never mind the road rage and always being in a rush. I didn't say he wasn't reckless, but he has fast reaction speed and knows how to handle his vehicle on the road. He prefers manual to automatic transmission and was caught off guard by the automatic cars that were popular in Japan. He would catch himself habitually moving his foot to the nonexistent clutch, or trying to pull the stick in a way that it simply wouldn't go. Anyone pointing that out will just piss him off and he will drive even more aggressively.

He always eats just enough to sustain himself and supply his body with the energy to build the muscle he needs, almost with efficiency as more of a priority than enjoying the food. A result of the fast pace, physical demands, and immense pressures of his work. He also has a fast metabolism, so he's always been fairly lean, but he runs cold. Something about the long limbs and poor circulation. He appreciates a good hearty soup and misses the cooking from his childhood no matter how much he tries to deny himself that yearning.

Squalo definitely gives "grew up too fast", in part through his family's expectations on him, and himself being extremely ambitious in his youth and choosing to fly the coop and shoulder so much more than the average teenage boy. He chose to pursue the sword and made the bold decision to dedicate his life to it from early on. He does not regret it one bit, but it comes up in times of high stress. Sometimes he almost wishes that he could be as emotionally unhinged as Xanxus, and to just be irresponsible and destructive when overwhelmed by emotions... but someone has to be collected enough to lead around here.

Not to get off topic here, but I really don't feel right thinking and writing about Xanxus going hungry as a child without thinking about children who are starving in real life.

I know this is just a fandom blog, but I cannot post this without flagging this post for d0nation matches to people currently having their food, water, families, homes, land, and lives taken from them. Sorry to end on something so grim, but if y'all want to support my blog, please support what I care about as a human being. From river to sea,

[hb-writes]

Had this slightly shitty, slightly hilarious idea when reading through the prompts list you reposted and thought about number one “(Will you please just give me a hand?”) with Charlie and Harvey. It’s a scenario where Harvey needs help with something or other (obvs), Charlie’s uninterested or distracted or just doesn’t want to help, and when he asks about her giving him a hand, she just gives him a single glove. I’m not sure if you can make this fit or even work but I have faith 😂

(this one needs a bit of a warning for parental loss. RIP Gordon 😔)

Harvey slid the lunch he had picked up on his way home from the office into the fridge and glanced around the room. He'd gotten take out from one of Charlie's favorite spots, but his sister hadn't bothered to join him, claiming from her bedroom doorway that she wasn't hungry.

Harvey felt something like annoyance surge through his body at Charlie's rejection, but before he reacted, Harvey had taken a beat, reminding himself that he'd been up since the crack of dawn working on the case and that he hadn't eaten yet. Maybe he'd feel different after he ate. Maybe he'd feel better able to deal with his sister and whatever was going on with her.

Maybe, he had thought, and now that he'd eaten, he was feeling a little better. A little more stable. A little less what Charlie always labeled as 'hangry.'

But even if he was feeling better, the apartment was still a mess, just as it was when he'd left this morning.

Harvey's apartment was usually immaculate. Between the two of them and their beloved cleaning lady, they kept the place spotless, but the cleaning lady was currently on vacation and both Specters had had overly busy weeks—Harvey was working on an impossible case and Charlie was in the middle of exams at school.

They'd come to a silent agreement that it was a problem to be dealt with at the weekend.

Neither of them had started tackling the problem yet, but Harvey had left a note asking his sister to tidy up a bit while he spent the morning at the office. After all, most of the shit strewn about was hers, but he had come back to find Charlie still in her bedroom with her crap still everywhere and the sink still overflowing with dishes.

Harvey closed his eyes as he leaned against the counter, taking a breath so large, you'd have thought he did it on purpose, trying to calm some part of him, but he'd done it out of desperation. Out of need. Because suddenly there was a weight on him, a pressure that was so painful and tight in his chest that subconsciously, he knew he needed the air to ease it.

Because the kitchen sink wasn't the only thing overflowing in their lives. Their living room, not the only thing messy. Charlie and Harvey had been at each other's throats for weeks now, the tension between them growing steadily worse as the days passed by.

"Charlie, come help with this mess," Harvey called down the hall, his voice cracking just the slightest as he voiced the request.

He knew his sister was tired. He knew she'd been studying as hard as he'd been working all week, and he'd tried to cut her some slack when he was in control of himself enough to be conscious of it, but that awareness fought against the fact that Harvey was tired, too. Harvey was bone tired and his apartment was a mess and...

"Charlotte!" Harvey shouted as he took two steps down the hallway leading to her bedroom.

Charlie pulled open the door, her music suddenly spilling out. No wonder she hadn't heard him...

"What?" she snapped.

Her tone jabbed at him, the word coated in a exasperatingly thick layer of attitude, the same attitude she'd given him when he told her to come eat some lunch.

"I asked you to clean this goddamned stuff up," he answered. "I was gone for 5 hours and all you did was add more dishes to the pile."

Or, a single dish. The only thing she'd added to the pile was her now-empty coffee cup, but Charlie didn't bother arguing that, too focused on managing the sudden bit of emotion swelling within her.

Charlie had felt angry all week, on the edge of tears for days, every interaction having the potential to push her over an edge she wasn't certain she'd be able to pull back from. And though the emotion was so close, and it would've been a relief to let it all out, she held back, willing herself to remain in control. To push it down like her brother always did.

Harvey noticed the shift and incorrectly clocked it as his sister softening a bit. He clocked it as a bit of regret. As her realizing she should've just done as he asked and cleaned up a bit while he was out in the first place.

"Will you please just give me a hand?" he asked, his tone a bit kinder. "We'll clean up the mess, and you can get back to brooding in your room."

Charlie scoffed, shaking her head as she silently retreated through the doorway, marching toward him a moment later with two baseball gloves in hand. She hadn't softened a bit, her emotions hardening to the point of fragility.

"You want a hand?" she asked, thrusting the gloves at Harvey's chest. "Here's two."

Harvey scrambled to keep hold of the gloves she'd spent the past hour digging around the apartment to find. It had taken all of three seconds of the morning news for Charlie to realize what day it was, and what they'd forgotten to celebrate. Why they'd been feeling so angry this week, annoyed with each other even more than usual.

Harvey's face fell as the same thing clicked for him, and all that he'd forgotten suddenly rushed back to him. It was almost as if Donna was there in his head, telling him that it wasn't just a busy week that had had both Charlie and Harvey frustrated and tired and neglecting their chores, all of it getting steadily worse as the weekend approached.

It was Father's Day.

And even though he was busy and stressed and tired because of everything happening at work, it wasn't any of those things that had him conveniently forgetting what day it was. Harvey remembered now the plans he and Charlie made months ago. Marcus had his kids and wife to celebrate him, to distract him, but Father's Day was different for Charlie and Harvey. He remembered now that they had agreed to keep the day low key. They had agreed to celebrate their father in their own way. They'd go to the park and toss the ball, something he'd always done with his kids. And then they'd enjoy his favorite foods and listen to some of his music and...

"Charlie," Harvey said, following her down the hall to her bedroom.

She left her door open, but Harvey still expected his sister to snap at him. He deserved it, Harvey thought. But instead Harvey found Charlie seated on the end of her bed with her eyes clenched shut.

"Look, I'm sorry I didn't clean up, okay?" Charlie pushed her hands to her face, willing her palms to stop the tears leaking through. "I didn't sleep well last night so I woke up late and I remembered what today is and I didn't see your note and we've been so...everything's messed up and—"

"It doesn't matter," Harvey answered, shaking his head. "Forget about the cleaning. Just get dressed. Let's go to the park."

"But the apartment's a—"

A fucking mess, Harvey thought to himself. And Charlie's bedroom was an even worse mess, but he willed himself to forget about that for now, sitting down beside her as he pulled her into his side, handing over one of the gloves.

"The dishes will be here when we're done. Alright?"

Charlie turned the glove over in her hands, sniffling.

Harvey held his sister to his side, feeling more at ease than he had all week, even amongst the chaos of her bedroom. Even knowing the case he'd been pouring himself into wasn't looking good.

"Alright," he said after a minute. "C'mon, kid. Buck up. There’s no crying in—"

Charlie swung the glove, a satisfying thump sounding as it crashed into Harvey's arm. "Don't even say it, Harvey," she warned.

Harvey scoffed. "Are you trying to tell me this isn't the perfect time to quote A League of Their Own?

"Oh, you zip it, Harvey."

Harvey smirked. "You're worse than me, you know? Probably know that movie backwards and forwards."

Charlie shrugged. She had seen it probably close to a hundred times with her dad, so indulgent he was with her obsession. Charlie gathered up the gloves, thrusting them back in Harvey's arms before she pulled him from the bed.

"Let's make like a bread truck and haul buns ladies," she said, a final quote offered as she pushed her brother towards the door so she could get dressed, a bit of lightness in both of their hearts that hadn't been there before. A bit of gratefulness for each other and their father. A bit of love for the man they both would've given anything to be celebrating today.

Send me a drabble-ish prompt.

[draculasfavoritewife]

Miguel O'Hara x Reader Headcanons

Summary: How you and Miguel found yourselves in a situationship of sorts.

Pairing: Miguel O'Hara x fem!Spider!Reader

Warnings: Miguel gets angry when he's worried (it's a canon event guys). A very sultry kiss and implied smut towards the end. Me using far too many of the adjectives at my disposal just to describe this man and all the things he makes me feel.

I went and saw Across the Spiderverse TWICE in a week while it was in my hometown, and immediately started drafting fic for this goddamn gorgeous problem of a man 🔥 He just gave me too much to work with and I may or may not have spent entire months watching every single compilation I could find for "scientific inspiration". For my headcanon purposes, reader is a spider-hero as well, but I left her pretty vague on purpose -- feel free to fill in her costume/powers/skill set with your own spidersona :)

*Spanish translations at the end! (I am fairly bilingual, but if I made a lil mistake here or there do forgive me)

• He would say he had no idea when or how it started -- you, on the other hand, were taken by him from the first time he gave you his whole "canon" spiel.

• How could you not be? He towered above you, body chiseled like a Greek God, angular face equal parts weary and arrogant.

• And that voice -- rich and smooth as a silky black coffee -- it would be safe to say you were pretty smitten right away.

• To his surprise, you worked your way into his inner circle fairly quickly for a new recruit. Although you definitely had your own opinions, you knew when and how to push his boundaries and when he wasn't in the mood for it.

• Soon he trusted you to handle yourself with minimal supervision from him -- and maybe that trust was the beginnings of it for him. Because even though he recognized your competence, he still found himself continually assigning you to his personal strike squad, not to look after you, but because you somehow didn't annoy the hell out of him.

• Which comes in handy for everyone else after a while, because soon that translates over to you soothing the proverbial beast when he's biting the heads off of the more sensitive Spiders.

"How could you be so STUPID -- !"

"Okay, Miguel, I think they got the point."

"But they -- !"

"I know. They know. It's okay, let's all just take a breath."

"¡Ay coño! Nadie me oye. Todos son idiotas."

But he does back off, and does take a breath, and everyone else stares at you like you're the second coming of Christ.

• Your fascination and admiration for the intense head of the Society soon turns to a genuine enjoyment of his company. He's not much of a conversationalist, but you're okay with silence, and sometimes you just...end up keeping him company in the monitor tower after missions and he just...lets you.

• You soon notice the ungodly hours he keeps and start leaving him an empanada and a black coffee at the end of the day when you leave -- you know how dangerous he gets when hangry and undercaffeinated.

• It's a bit strange for him at first (someone is actually choosing his company over the bombastic personalities of the other spiders?) but Miguel soon gets used to you hanging around, and the hairs on the back of his neck finally stop bristling at having a fellow person in the room.

• One thing he absolutely can't figure out is why the scent of fear never radiates from you, even when you witness his occasional equipment-trashing tantrums. But he somehow doesn't quite mind that he can't intimidate you.

• He would strongly deny he ever gave you favorite treatment, but some of the others do realize he's not QUITE as hard on you when you challenge his decisions.

• Sometimes you check on him late at night before you go home; you can tell when he hasn't slept in a couple days by the way his shoulders hunch and how often he pinches the bridge of his nose against an oncoming headache (though sometimes that's just from dealing with Peter (x100) for too long).

• And that turns into you staying in late to keep him company while he swipes through screens upon screens of things that require his personal attention.

• That's how you end up finally seeing the videos of him and his little girl; he probably forgot you were there and her loss hit him all over again and before he knew it you had seen what he was like once, when the lines on his handsome face were from smiling so widely instead of losing sleep over the fate of all of reality.

• Neither of you really address it for a long time, but you know, and he knows you do, and there's this weird comfort that settles between the two of you after that.

• He already knows your story of course, and your canon events, but when the pair of you finally start talking during those late nights you share the little details, and you have the feeling that he wants to care about the small things, he just can't with the much larger picture he has to handle.

• It's little things that make it past his unbreakable outer walls -- the fleeting brush of your hand across his back as you pass behind him, the way you can hold eye contact with him longer than anyone else, the seemingly flippant way you blow him a kiss every so often when he sends you off to go make yourself useful elsewhere. Casual things, but he notices.

• And you want to tell him you're in love with him, but have a feeling he doesn't want to hear those words, because once they're out in the air, it means you both can't sidestep it anymore, so you don't.

• After a particularly rough mission, he's angry and you're shaken up, and he doesn't mean to react the way he does, but he takes it out on you, scolding you for what almost happened, and you fire right back because you're emotional, and the two of you end up raising your voices and everyone else just kind of...leaves the room.

• Then silence.

• You and Miguel are breathing hard, staring at each other. And something fragile takes root in the empty space between you.

• "Could you do me a favor and maybe not get yourself shocking killed?!" he growls at last, and there's a raw edge to it you haven't heard before.

• You laugh brokenly. "What do you really care, O'Hara? There's literally hundreds of Spiders here; I think you'd be okay."

• "¡Coño! How can you be so blind?!" He's snarling now, full lips pulled back and sharp teeth on display. "I thought we were on the same page for once."

• You're totally unprepared for when he grabs your shoulders and forces you to look up, right at him. "I can't lose someone else."

• He's so close, and his angry mouth has softened. And maybe you've lost your mind, but he's already angry, so what do you have to lose, really? At least that's what you tell yourself as you take the plunge and lean in.

• And to your surprise, he not only meets your lips, he kisses you back with matching fire, and what was supposed to be a simple, singular impulse turns into an unexpectedly heavy ongoing process -- fingers raking through hair, bodies pressing together, hotly whispering things neither of you remembers.

• And then as quickly as it happened, it's over, and you're on opposite sides of the room again like sulking cats, and he sends you home.

• You don't talk about the incident for weeks. Life goes on.

• But then one night, he offers to take you home when you both stay behind late, and at your door he apologizes for his lapse in professionalism, and you admit you...didn't mind. At all. He doesn't seem in a hurry to leave, and wanting to distract him from his work for at least a little while, you invite him in.

• And somehow what was supposed to be a sweet goodbye-and-thank-you kiss a couple hours later turned into exploring touches and murmured questions and agreements and how damn good his arms feel locked around your body; and when the sun filters in through your window in the morning he's long gone but your skin still smells like him and you realize that actually happened.

• You assume it's a one-time thing. People make mistakes, after all, no hard feelings.

• Bur when Miguel holds you back after a mission several days later and wants to make absolutely sure that the other night didn't make things uncomfortable between you, you go out on a limb and admit to him that you really enjoyed it.

• And he has to take some time and process that.

• But eventually he shows up at your place late one night again, and it starts to become a bit of a regular thing. So much so that you give him the spare key to your apartment and he starts to leave some of his clothes there sometimes. You love wearing his shirts, because they're enormous as hell on you, and you sleep in his clothes whenever you can't have his skin against yours.

• (For his part, he also likes when you wear his shirts, because then your throat, shoulders, and thighs are that much easier to get at.)

• And life goes on.

¡Ay coño! = (Expletive)

Nadie me oye = No one listens to/hears me

Todos son idiotas = They're all idiots

[mandowifey]

Exhume

Miguel O'hara x Reader

This is part of a nonlinear story.

Warnings: This has multiple changing POV's (Im trying here), PwP, dark!Miguel, captive reader, stockholm syndrome, NSFW, dead dove, this has officially become 'dub con' territory. Au events, following along the movie SORTA. Reader is referred to as she/her pronouns.

Lil warning: this was hastily written in different points of the past couple months. I wanted to release it as is and not over edit the work I put in. The next chapter(s) will be more refined. Enjoy the slop LOL

° ° °

The space behind Miguel's eyes throbs as Jessica speaks up. Not that he hadn't found kinship with the woman before everything, but lately, he'd been irritable more than usual. While he tried to conceal it and bury himself away in his work, of course, his infuriatingly perceptive companion would notice.

His patience was wearing thin. He didn't mind the company before, but now that he had you, he wanted time to check the cameras. More than once, he'd caught you attempting to break loose or creatively end your life. Keeping you alive meant being attentive, and right now, Jessica was making that difficult.

"Miguel, are you alright?"

What kind of answer could he really give?

'No, I'm exhausted trying to maintain the multiverse while simultaneously covering the fact I have lost my mind and am holding a young woman hostage in my loft.'

Instead, he sighs and drops his shoulders. "Yes, Jess, I'm fine-"

"You aren't, I know you. I know when you're hangry, or moody or brooding, or when you are in need of your 'medicine'. This isn't fine." The woman folds her arms just below her bossom, against the swell of her belly. Miguel had congratulated her somewhat bitterly when she told their group.

Gritting his teeth, he pawed his face before he looked at her. "What do you want me to say?" Miguel snipped, a flash of red glinting in those onyx orbs. Jess seemed unphased and stood her ground with a frown.

"Just tell me what's going on. You know me, anything that's troubling you, I'll help." Her voice changed, adopting something acute to motherly. Jessica was by no means a soft woman before, but pregnancy had upset the balance of her hormones and now, sometimes, her rough exterior broke to show the gentle soul nestled within.

Miguel watches her, catching her gaze before averting his eyes shamefully. "It's nothing you can help with." He turned the broad canvas of his back to her, staring at the array of holoscreens above the control board. His fingers itched to press the code to the loft, wanting to check on you. He typically watched off and on in five minute intervals, but with Jess standing and practically breathing down his neck, he couldn't.

The woman tilts her head at the vague response, her brows raised behind her yellow glasses. Persistence was one of her strong suits.

"Try me."

-

Time ticked down like sand through an hourglass. Dragging, unyielding in its slow descent. You struggled to amuse yourself now. Tv, YouTube, baking, none of it worked anymore. You felt compelled to do something with your time but couldn't determine what. Puzzles became boring now that you'd completed each one three times. Sometimes, you cleaned and took things apart just to put it back together.

All this time, locked in a tower.

You started to feel bad for zoo animals.

As your mind began to drift away, so did your resolve. Instead of dreading his return, you looked forward to it. In the morning following your break, you had almost begged Miguel to stay home with you. Your hands ached to feel the weight of his face between them. Your lungs missed the way he compressed you. Miguel left you yearning for more, especially after the evening you had consented his touch.

Instead of sleeping the day away, you turn music loud on the speakers and close your eyes. It wasn't much, but you imagined yourself on a stage, dancing in an empty amphitheater. Shy ministrations became wild as you lost yourself in the fantasy. You were having fun, feeling almost childish in your amusement. Miguel had never confirmed your suspicions, but you knew he had the place rigged with cameras.

Part of you hoped he enjoyed the show - as silly as it was.

You spun and twirled, throwing yourself over the chair and couch, dramatically flinging yourself off the furniture and laughing as it became less of a dance and more of a mosh pit. A sensation of freedom and peace washed over you, taking you off your feet with each lunge and jump. Arms out, you did circles on the coffee table before falling backward off of it and onto the plush couch. As the song faded, your eyes opened at the ceiling, and your smile began to fade.

Nausea hit you like a truck.

Even with the room spinning, you scrambled and found your way to the kitchen trashcan. Knocking it to the ground along with yourself, you shoved your face into it just in time to vomit. Lunch - a sandwhich and chips - mostly digested and not nearly as enjoyable as it was going down, fell from your mouth in violent, painful heaves. Sweat from your wild dance routine now mingled with the sweat of being sick. Beads traced down your forehead and temple as you puked again, your shoulders bunching.

A fever rocked through you, aching to the bone. Coughing, you gasp for air as your eyes water. Lesson learned: Don't mosh pit in the living room. You wait on the cold tile floor until the nausea passes. Drawing upwards, you fix the trash can and groan as you get woozy. Bracing a hand on the island, you wobble towards the bedroom, having to go slow and lean your weight against the nearest surface.

Once you reach the bathroom, you turn the cold water on and keep the lights out. Undressing was impossible now that your limbs felt like cement blocks. As you climb in, you lay on your side as the shower rains down onto you. With your eyes closed and fever addled brain not working, you don't notice the steam rising off your body.

-

"A... girlfriend?"

Jessica looked skeptical with her hips tilted in the opposite direction of her head. A frowned pinched in her face, and nose slightly crinkled. Miguel was a lot of things, but she had assumed that after all he'd been through, he lost interest in companionship. Though, it would explain why he'd been ducking out of missions and avoiding any talk about it. Her shoulders relaxed as she acted like she made sense of it in her head.

"Well, I- I mean, that's great." Her skepticism was replaced with a genuine smile. "That's pretty big, I won't tell anyone." She laughed and rested a fist on her hip. Before Miguel could begin saying thanks, she cut in; "If you tell me about her. I want details. Is she cute? Is she local? A Gwen?" A grin stretched across her features as she drew in closer, the other spider staring at her with a confused and somewhat uncomfortable expression.

Something beeped rapidly, and Lyla came into view near him. "Miguel, there's something wrong." Her voice chirped in his ear. Jessica looked between the two, her brows raising. "Multiverse? Anomally?" She was ready to spring into action. Miguel shut down the console, and his mask reformed over his face. "No, I'll be back tomorrow." He jumped from the platform and landed noisily on his feet. The man took off into a sprint, tearing past Jess and vanishing out the door.

Once gone, Jessica stood in silence. While the gears churned in her head, she frowned, knowing Miguel was lying.

-

With the loft situated at the tip of the tower, Miguel typically would ride the elevator up. Lyla had brought it to his attention that something was seriously wrong with you, and his instincts had him ferociously clawing his way up the side of the building. Pieces of cement and glass falling behind him as he tore himself upward, powerful shoulders and biceps flexing as he propelled on. Anything could have happened to you, and his mind went to the darker extremes.

After just a few moments, he crawled onto the balcony and ripped the door hard enough to break the lock. The force he used to tear the sliding glass door open caused an entire panel to shatter on impact as he walked inside. His mask pulled back, exposing wild red eyes and furrowed brows.

"Y/N?"

Miguel's sensitive ears picked up on the sound of the shower, and he cleared the living room in a single jump. A sweet smell tickled his nose, and he recoiled slightly, unsure what he was smelling. More panic pricked at his guts as he felt the desire to nest and protect you grow. "Y/N!" He barked, stepping into the bathroom and looking at your clothed, soaking form in the tub. "Dios- what are you doing?" He withdrew his gloves and felt the ice cold water. Hissing, he turned the shower off and dropped to his knees.

"Hey, hey," his voice softened, his burning red irises fading to brown as he delicately tried to lift and move you. As his bare hands touched you, he was stunned at the sheer amount of heat radiating off your body. "Hey!" He snapped, feeling a familiar dread building in him. Miguel was suddenly back in that alternate universe, watching everything fall apart and his daughter dying in his arms. That helplessness returning, realizing something was seriously wrong with you.

"C'mon, come on. Open your eyes, you're okay. You're okay." He pulled you into his arms and lap, cradling your soaked body against his. "Look at me, please. Please." His voice tightened, and a lump formed in his throat. Seeing you so pale and limp made him uneasy. His fingers press to your throat, feeling for a pulse. When you cough, he startles and stares down at you.

"There you are."

"Miguel.." You croaked, your throat raw from puking.

"Yeah, I'm here."

He was standing slowly, keeping you bridal style in his strong arms. "I missed you." You smiled, eyes still closed as you tucked your face into his chest. He felt his heart pound, heat rising to his cheeks as he took you to the bed and peeled your saturated clothes off. "You did?" He asked, flicking his eyes to your peaceful and tired expression. Miguel watched as you smiled and nodded, your little hands reaching to find him blindly. He leans close, pushing kisses to your palms and rubbing his face into them. A whine builds in his throat, relief hitting him now that you were conscious.

Miguel stood and tucked you naked into the bed. You curled up, still feverish but comfortable in the warmth. He runs back and forth from the kitchen, fetching you water and saltines, along with a small bin from the bathroom in case you need it. When you slumped and your breathing slowed, Miguel climbed into the bed behind you and curled his massive frame around yours, his own eyes feeling heavy. That sweet aroma persisted, making his heart pound and bones itch. There was a lingering desire to tuck you up somewhere high and far away, to build you a nest of webs and keep you from the world-

"Did you like it?"

Your voice pulled his thoughts.

"Hmm?"

Squirming yourself into his chest, you yawn and sag into the pillows. "My dance." You sounded dreamlike. Miguel was confused but pushed his face into your neck as he squeezed around you gently.

"I loved it, kid."

-

It was only nightmares in your slumber.

Your body, swelling and growing more until you burst. Spiders crawled out of your belly and along your skin, chittering as they began to feast on your skin. You were helpless to watch, sobbing and frozen, suspended in red, vibrant webbing.

"You're doing so well, you'll be ready for the next clutch soon."

His voice came from the dark, peering red eyes and a silhouette against the inky black. You sob and cry for help, but he only watches as your offspring take bite after searing bite.

"Such a good mother, Y/N."

As you sob, he says your name again.

Then again-

"Y/N!"

Blackness becomes light, and light gives way to the familiar face of Miguel. You gawk up at him, aware your heart was pounding. Miguel cupped his hand against your cheek, brown eyes wide and concerned as he leaned over you to check your eyes. "You alright? Bad dream?" He leaned closer, knocking his forehead to yours and sighing. "Thought you were a goner." He mumbled, his breath fanning your lips.

Everything in you felt electric. You recalled getting sick and stumbling into the shower, but you hadn't been sure what followed. It was difficult to discern your memories with him so close. He smelled differently to you now, too. His scent was stronger, comforting in the sense that you had a strong urge to push your face into him and inhale.

So you did.

Miguel jerks with surprise as you sink into his chest, clutching at him and breathing in. The smell was borderline hypnotic. You already had begun the process of crumbling for him, and now you were sinking even further. A large hand touches your back and rubs gently, uncertain. The change of heart confused him. "That fever really cooked your brain, princess." You smile against his shoulder and rub your cheek into his collar bone.

"I had a fever?" You lean back, looking up at him and admiring the strong line of his jaw. Miguel tilts, looking down at you. The eye contact makes your heart throb and heat rocket to your groin. "You were burning up when I found you. You had dragged yourself into the shower and passed out. Lyla picked up on the dip in your vitals." His thick fingers pet through your hair, dragging along your scalp and coming to rest at the base of your neck. The concern in his tone was palpable.

More warmth pooled on your insides, your heart quickening and loins catching fire. Miguel caught your scent, and his nostrils flared. At this distance, you could see when his pupils stretched and blew out. He drew a shaky breath and curled his fingers tighter against your neck. This reaction from him was new. Certainly he got riled up when it came to fucking you, but something was different. Your scent was amplified tenfold, and he could hear the patter of your fast pulse beneath your skin.

Jaw aching, Migule suddenly released your neck and tore himself across the bed. You were left stunned, sitting half obscurred by the think blankets as your captor stumbled out of the bedroom. Slipping out of the bed, you stand and realize how good you felt. It was a strange sensation, like having a really good nights sleep post workout. "Miguel!" You call, hearing him rummaging around. Stepping into the bathroom, you rinse your mouth and brush your teeth before heading out in one of his discarded shirts.

"Shit."

Miguel tossed things from the drawers and looked around. "Miguel?" You ask again, and he swivels to look at you. "Keep back." He warned, his teeth sharp and eyes glowing. One of his hands covered his nose and mouth, trying to keep your scent at bay. Miguel felt it had to be time for another shot. He had no idea you were having the same issue, like a tiger in a cage. All you could see was him, your body tightly coiled, ready to burst. Your skin itched, your bones tightened, and you struggled to form a coherent thought. The both of you stared at each other, wordless and trying to keep composure.

The scent of you was killing him. He could smell your sex and practically taste it with how strong your pheromones wafted over his olfactory sensors. This was different than when he was off his medicine. He wasn't hungry for blood. He was hungry for you. Every part of you calls to him like a lighthouse in the night. He wanted to nestle inside of you and draw your warmth for his own. In the same breath, he felt the powerful urge to breed you, to nest you, and to keep you safe.

His smell was doing almost the same to you. You had woken up with a new set of senses. You could see him better, hear him better, and smell him better. Your skin burned with desire, craving his own against it. An ache grew in your own jaws, the desire to sink your teeth into him and take him as yours, to cover him in your smell and ward off any others. To tell the world he was yours, only yours.

Something broke inside of you both.

Miguel came towards you as you rushed towards him and caught you in his arms. Your limbs wound around him like pythons as your mouths crashed together. The kissing was frantic and sloppy. Teeth against teeth, spit, and blood spilling from burst lips as you both fought tongue to tongue. He moves you backward, knocking you against the fridge and making you grunt into his mouth.

"Baby," you gasp, petting a hand through his thick, dark hair before gripping it like a vice. When you yank his head back, Miguel hisses. His red eyes are wild and teeth bare as he looks at you like an animal in a cage. "Fuck me."

Miguel takes you to the bedroom, bumping into various objects along the way as you devoured one another. He throws you down into the mattress - harder than intended - and you bounce and snarl. Something is different now. You feel alive, you feel *strong.* Baring your own teeth, you shift on all fours, lunging at him with your arms out. The bigger man catches you and throws you down again, and something in the bed cracks.

He descends upon you before you can retaliate. "You're an animal." His voice was breathless, amused as he grabbed your hips and flipped you face down into the mattress. Usually, Miguel controlled his strength to avoid breaking you. But now he grabbed you relentlessly, holding you down as he shoved the shirt up your back. "Gonna act like a wild bitch, I'm gonna fuck you like one." Miguel's voice was heavy with lust, growling out of his chest.

You struggle, but dip your back and widen your knees under you. While your new instincts begged for you to bite and mark him, they also simpered at being put in their place. Cunt leaking, you whine against the blankets. Miguel inhales, savoring your scent as he slaps your ass , claws out. The hit stings, making you lurch forward and shriek. Your own nails dig into the blankets, tearing them as you shove back towards him. Miguel watched the mark bloom on your skin, and he smirked as he cupped your mound and shoved in two fingers.

The heat of your insides is searing, and he gasps, pumping to the knuckle in quick, strong movements. You keen for him, shoving back to meet him as stars burst behind your eyes. "Fuck me, please." You couldn't recognize your own voice. The desire so strong you were certain you'd end up melting into the mattress itself. A chuckle rumbles behind you and you whine at the loss of those thick fingers, though you weren't empty for long. Miguel's cock forces inside, filling every inch of available space within you.

You two groan in tandem, and you shove back to force him to hilt. Miguel grunts, his large, calloused hands grasping your hips to start pumping you on his dick. His dark eyes honed in, watching your tight body swallow his length like it were made for him. The sounds you make are unhinged. Sharp cries mixed with breathless groans as he punches the air out of you. Your mind is white hot, and your cunt sears from the friction of him dragging within you.

"O-oh, o-oh f-f-fuck." You manage to gasp out between thrusts. The sound of your bodies plapping together nearly as loud as your cries.

Miguel grins, teeth flashing as a fist slides up your spine and grips into your hair. Grasping at the root, he curls his digits and yanks. Your face is pulled from the bed and your back in a deep arch as he continues to fuck you. "There's my girl. Look at you." He was panting too, his body wracked with the same heat that ravaged yours.

"I wanna feel you cum, princess." Miguel shifts his weight after a few good thrusts. Forcing your head into the blankets, he leans his weight over you and begins to rock harder. Pummeling your end with each pump, his hips colliding noisily with your ass. You are certain he might break you. Shrieking in response to the new angle, you drool and babble for him, his cock stoking the swelling bubble inside you.

You were babbling to him, pleading for him to stop - possibly from a force of habit - but also begging him to cum inside you. Miguel can't make it, and neither can you. As he collides his dick against the spongey, puckered hole of your cervix, you feel fireworks. Your cunt clenches down around him in a wave of convulsions so hard it nearly forces him out. Miguel holds your hips, no longer thrusting but pushing against you to keep himself nestled deep. The milking of your pussy tugs him over the edge shortly after you.

The hero bucks once more for good measure as he empties inside you. His cum hot and thick, painting your insides and saturating you with his essence. As you both catch your breath, you feel Miguel slip out of you and whine from his absence. Large hands flip you over, and he scoops you up. Settling back and leaning against the headboard, Miguel rests you in his lap. For just a moment you look at one another. Sweaty and flushed from sex.

You lean forward, hands on his shoulders as you steal one kiss, then another. Miguel chases your mouth with his own, his hands smoothing over your hips and squeezing before repeating the motion on your ass. "What has gotten into you?" He mutters into your starving mouth. You pause, a hand moving behind his head to grip his hair and yank his head back. Miguel flinches, looking up at you through lidded eyes.

"Aside from you? Nothing." You hum, admiring his jaw and the grooves in his cheeks. "That's funny." His voice was flat, but he did smirk. "Think you can go again, old man?" You release his hair to focus on sitting up on him. Miguel blinks, then nods, his hands back on your hips.

"Good boy."

-

When you both were fully spent, you laid in his arms. Miguel was watching the ceiling, listening to you as you rambled about trips you took outside the city. It all felt strange to him now. Your scent, your cooperation, the way you touched and looked at him. He couldn't place what happened - assuming maybe you had finally snapped. But that wouldn't account for your smell.

Breathing in through his mouth, he tasted your pheremones and felt his chest twinge again. He could feel those urges from before growing; to nest you, feed you, and protect you. Then, the pieces started to fall in place.

You getting sick.

The change in your smell.

The change in your behavior.

How you ached for him.

Miguel's mouth pressed to a thin line as he ran over all the facts again. Then again, and again. No matter how he tried to explain it, there was only one answer. His dark eyes flicked down to you, watching as you rubbed your face into his chest and sniffed at him. He watched your mouth open and the glint of your newly growing fangs as you nip at him. Miguel feels his heart begin to race, recognizing now that you were changing too.

There was no other explanation.

"Miguel? Did you hear me?"

The pound of his heart drowned your voice out. This had been what he wanted, hadn't it? To fill the void his daughter left? To find new happiness and move on, to have another chance?

Panic was building now. Everything was uncharted territory. You were changing, pregnant with his child(ren?) and he was going to be a father again. Miguel didn't register your little hands on his cheeks or the way you continued to say his name. All he could hear was the screams of people around him as their universe caved in. He could feel his daughter's weight fading from his arms, leaving him empty. Now you were pregnant and everything could go wrong.

How did he take care of a pregnant woman without getting caught?

Where would you go for check ups? It wasn't like an OBGYN worked in the tower. There were too many holes in his plan now, he would be risking keeping you to himself. He hadn't thought this part through. Now he could potentially lose you both - not to mention the complications of carrying mutant spider spawn.

"Miguel." Your mouth presses to his.

Eyes widening, he saw you. You sat on top of him, eyes big and face concerned. Miguel clasped your hips and held you close. "Where'd you go?" You ask, rubbing his chest. He stares up, watching for a moment before he sighs and takes your wrist. Pulling your hand to his mouth, he kisses your palm before pressing it to his cheek. "Long day at work, is all."

He knew lying to you wouldn't work for long. No doubt you'd realize sooner rather than later that your body was no longer just your own.

Miguel could cross that bridge when you got to it.

"I'm sorry." You mumble, shifting off of him. "Let's get some rest then. We can shower in the morning." Nestling yourself into his side, you stretch an arm over the expanse of his stomach and squeeze him gently. Miguel wrapped an arm around you and squeezed gently, his eyes still fixated on the ceiling.

It was going to work out.

It had to.

[the-knucklesverse]

Stronger Together

something something the Shatter triplets were yoinked into the Sanctuary somewhere between season two and three of Sonic Prime, and know each other going into the last season. This is playing a little with the actual timeline of things, as our current theory is the ME pulled Dread in after season 1, either immediately before or immediately after getting the shard. But for this piece, they got pulled in after season 2.

This takes place in New Yoke, after everyone begrudgingly came together. ~~ Qwerty

~~~~~

"Ren!"

The voice called out over the noise of the others arguing, and the battle-scarred echidna turned to find his jungle 'brother' hurrying closer. The boy wore an expression of worry, which wasn't all that strange considering his typical nervous demeanor. "Yeah? What's up?"

"It's Dread," the boy said, his voice higher pitched in his worry. "He's . . . something's wrong."

"There's always somethin' wrong with him," Ren scoffed, crossing his arms. "Guy's got a screw loose somewhere."

Gnarly's expression intensified. "Ren. This is serious. He's losing it."

The boy's expression sobered Ren, and he nodded. "Show me."

Gnarly grabbed Ren's hand and pulled, dragging him to where Dread had hidden himself away in a corner. The pirate stood hunched over slightly, hands to his head and muttering to himself under his breath.

"Me Beauty, I must have me Beauty . . . grr . . . no . . . no . . . I be better than that . . . me Beauty be mine, all mine . . ."

"Dread?" Ren's voice was firm but soft. "Talk to me."

Dread shook his head, keeping his back to them. "Get away."

Ren tried again. "Dread, c'mon. You don't need that rock. Look at me."

The pirate shook his head again, curling tighter on himself. "Leave me be. I . . . don't want t' hurt you. I don't want t' hurt anyone."

"Dread, you need to—"

Ren was stopped when Gnarly put a hand on his arm. He shook his head, before moving closer to their eldest 'brother'.

"I know what it feels like," he said, speaking softly as he approached. "That noise in your head. Like a buzzing. A million bees stuck in there, making you feel like you're going crazy."

The trembling in Dread's shoulders stopped, and he turned to look at Gnarly. His eyes were wide, haunted, and his lip curled in a fearful snarl. "Ye . . . h-how do ye know that?"

"I've heard it all my life," Gnarly said with a shrug. "Back in Boscage Maze, I hear the trees. Cyber said it was something about something called chaos energy? I dunno. But I heard it when no one else could. And some days it makes me feel like I'd rip my own skin off just to have some quiet."

Dread straightened very slightly, turning more to face the youngest of their trio. "How do ye stop it? I hear me Beauty call me, even now, and I feel its pull. I want to go and get it, feel the power as it flows through me. But it makes me lose meself. I . . . I don't want to do that. How do I stop it?"

Gnarly shook his head with a sigh. "You can't stop it. You just have to learn to tune it out."

Dread grimaced as though that was the most painful thing he could hear. "How??"

"Focus on the things that are more important. I focus on my tribe. On Mangey and Hangry. My urge to keep them safe is more important than letting that buzzing get to me. That's what you need to do. Focus on what's more important than that rock."

"Nothing be more important than me Beauty!" Dread snapped, his face twisting in anger as he leaned toward the boy. A second later his eyes went wide and he drew back. "I . . . no, that's . . ." He grunted, pressing the heels of his hands against his eyes. "Get outta me head, you bloody rock."

"Focus on your crew," Ren said, moving closer. He wanted to be nearby in case Dread snapped and went after Gnarly. "They're your family, right?"

Dread shook his head, his hands still to his eyes. "I betrayed them. They . . . they'd never forgive me."

"Then what about us?" Gnarly said, trying to side-step around Ren, but his urban brother kept himself between them no matter how Gnarly moved. "We're your brothers. We want to see you beat this."

Dread slowly dropped his hands to look at the two echidna before him, a crease in his brow. "Ye . . . ye do?"

The other two nodded. "We do," Ren said, relaxing his stance a bit. "Dread, you're stronger than this. C'mon. Focus on helping us kick that fox's butt and making everything right again."

"That should be easy, for a legendary captain such as yourself, right?" Gnarly asked with a smile.

Dread looked between them for a long moment, before lowering his hands completely. He took a deep breath, and let it out slowly before a familiar smirk spread across his face.

"Aye," he said, and he sounded stronger. "Plenty easy for the likes of meself. We'll go and show that fox that there ain't nothing that can stop an echidna tribe from saving that which they hold dear."

He moved closer to the other two, and held his fist out.

"Thank ye, lads. I may need yer strength once we get there. But I trust ye completely t' help pull me head outta me own arse should I start t' lose meself."

"Oh, you can bet on that," Ren said with a smirk, joining his fist to Dread's. "It'll be fun to kick your butt. Again."

Dread's eyes narrowed, but his smirk remained. "Oh, is that how you think our last fight ended, aye?"

Ren narrowed his eyes right back. "I know that's how our last fight ended, yeah."

"Okay, let's keep focused here," Gnarly said, adding his fist to the group. "Dread, we'll keep you from going crazy. Ren, you can kick his butt when all this is done."

Dread gasped. "Lad, ye can't believe this lubber's tales?!"

"Kid knows the truth when he hears it."

"LIES!"

Ren and Dread continued to argue as Gnarly walked off, shaking his head with a smile.

[wheredidalltheusersgo]

The Stranded and The Scaly.

Chapter 13: The Wolves.

Day 8

Chapter warning: Gore descriptions, violence, Body horror?

------

The gopher had finished eating, but now Geoff needed to find something to munch on before he got hangry. He wasn't a nice guy when he was hangry.

He turned and began his walk to the shore; fishing would be an easy way to get the food he needed. After his mutation, it almost felt like an instinct.

However, his thoughts drifted to Ezekiel. He had been gone for most of the day, and the sun was starting to set now, painting the sky with gorgeous hues of pink, orange, and yellow. If only Zeke was here to see it! Geoff hoped his little buddy wasn't too upset about his disappearance-- all he wanted to do was explore the cave! He didn't know he'd get caught up in a crazy cave-in!

As he walked, he thought it was weirdly quiet.... and lonely. He'd been walking for a little less than 10 minutes now, maybe he could take a break to snuggle with his little gopher? Geoff stopped and looked around, the gopher was nowhere to be seen. The gopher was gone. A spike of fear shot up his spine, and stress began to creep through his mind. That little guy was alone in this forest of mutant freaks, and it was peak prey.

Weak and defenseless.

Geoff turned and took off the running through the forest. He kept his eyes peeled for any sight of that chubby, pink beast.

He couldn't believe he just left it behind, what was he thinking?! God, he was so fucking stupid sometimes! Of course the gopher wouldn't follow him when he walked away. It was blind, for crying out loud!

Geoff ran as fast as his long legs could take him, taking note of any tree, shrub, or rock the gopher could be hiding behind.

He'd never forgive himself if that ugly little cutie was dead because of HIM.

A raspy howl could be heard echoing throughout the forest. Geoff ran faster.

As he crashed through a clearing, he was met with a sight that turned the blood in his veins to ice.

There was a pack of grotesque, mutant wolves.

And they were feasting on a mutant gopher carcass.

The freezing feeling he had previously felt in his veins was gone. All gone.

Blazing heat traveled up his spine from the tip of his tail directly into his brain.

He was seeing red.

His heart was pounding out of his scaly chest.

He couldn't keep a single coherent thought in his head.

The vicious predator within him had broken loose, and now it was taking over.

Geoff was still hungry, after all.

There was nothing he could do to stop the growl that tumbled from his throat, or the ear-splitting roar that followed.

Those mangy mutts messed with his little buddy, and they were gonna PAY.

With no control over his body, he charged forwards and lunged at the nearest wolf. Razor-sharp teeth pierced the canine's furry skin, blood sprayed. He just couldn't stop himself as he tore the wolf apart, ripping off chunks of it's flesh and scarfing them down.

From the corner of his eye, Geoff saw the rest of the pack retreating. If they thought they could just run away, they were dead wrong.

Geoff quickly abandoned the mutilated wolf corpse and bolted towards the others. They may have been fast, but they were no match for his far superior speed.

With a quick flick of his tail, he sent half the pack flying, wounding them enough to keep them from running in the process.

With half of the pack wounded, Geoff began to blindly swipe at the other half with his claws and tail, breaking their bones from the sheer force of the attacks.

The second all the wolves were downed, Geoff went into a frenzy.

He tore into each wolf, barely caring about the mess he was making.

The pungent scent of blood pierced the air, and the metallic taste filled his mouth.

It was nearly euphoric.

-----

Geoff snapped back to reality, his head now clear of the predator instinct. He was shaking. He stared down at his clawed hands.

Blood. His hands were dripping with blood.

As he took a moment to survey the area, that was all he saw. There was blood soaked into the grass and splattered on trees, bits of fur and flesh strewn about, it was a massacre.

Geoff felt weak, he wanted to vomit, but he knew what would come out. He was scared. Scared of himself, scared of what he had become.

Geoff stumbled backwards and collapsed under what he hoped was a blood-free tree. He dug his claws into the ground and threw his head back as he gasped for air. This couldn't be happening.

He felt like he could pass out at any second, he dug his claws deeper into the earth.

He could only hear the rustle of trees, his ragged breathing, and his pounding heart.

But just then, he felt something soft and warm nuzzle against his arm.

Geoff's eyes shot open and he stared in the direction of the sensation.

The little gopher had somehow found it's way back to him. His gopher..

It climbed into his lap and he immediately grabbed it, holding it close against his chest. He curled around the gopher protectively as his chest heaved.

Tears began to spill out of his eyes and pour down his face. He was so relieved. The carcass belonged to a different gopher, his little buddy was alive.

Little buddy.... Oh, God.

Ezekiel.

He needed to find Ezekiel.

Using the tree as support, Geoff got to his feet with the baby gopher curled up in his arms. He gave it a gentle, affectionate squeeze and began his journey back to the cave.

Ezekiel paced around the cave, clutching Geoff's lucky hat close to his chest. Geoff had been gone for hours. He had looked everywhere for him, but he'd lost Geoff's scent AND his tracks.

He'd lost Geoff, the love of his life, the only person who trusted him. He could hardly believe it.

Suddenly, footsteps. Slow and heavy footprints.

There were only two of them, so they couldn't belong to any animal.

But... he KNEW those footprints, he'd heard them before. He knew that rhythm.

It had to be Geoff.

Ezekiel whipped his head around, but the sight his eyes fell upon made his heart sink.

Geoff stumbled into the cave, dripping in blood and looking miserable. The blonde boy let out a pathetic whine and fell to his knees, letting his eyes meet Ezekiel's.

Ezekiel wrinkled his nose at the scent Geoff brought in and rushed over.

"Zeke, buddy... I'm sorry.. I'm so sorry..."

Zeke quickly hushed him and helped to maneuver him into a position where he was laying on his back, but Geoff refused to let the gopher go.

"You look sick, I take care. Just like before."

Ezekiel gently brushed Geoff's messy bangs away from his eyes and recieved a look of pure trust and vulnerability in return.

Ezekiel knew exactly what he needed to do now.

------

[theonetruegnome]

Callum's home visit: Part 2

Munch entered the now open door, and immediately had the wind knocked out of him by Callum running up and squeezing him tight.

'Munch! It's good to see you man, I've missed you! How are you?' Munch laughs at his friend's clinginess, 'Callum, I saw you yesterday! I'm fine.'

'Alright, let the poor boy breathe Snugglepuss, he's not going anywhere!'

The weak voice reminded Munch that he was here to see Callum's father. He looked up and was immediately shocked by who the voice belonged to.

Mr Cuddlekit was a crimson cat, slightly shorter than his wife but no less accommodating and friendly. Like his son, his fur was always washed and tidy, though he could be a bit of a neat freak at times. Now though, he was almost unrecognisable and looked wildly uncomfortable. His right arm was in a sling, much of his body visible above the bedcovers was bandaged and he looked to have been burned in places, judging by the blackened fur patches polka-dotting his upper body.

Callum released his grip and stepped back to his father's bedside, lowered himself down and grabbed a hold of his hand.

'So, you ok Mr Cuddlekit?'

'Well, I won't lie to you by saying I feel perfect, but honestly, I've been hurt worse before. I just need a pair of gritted teeth and a good glass of scotch and I'd be all right by tomorrow! But, doctor's orders are bedrest and just taking it easy.'

'Too right! You work yourself too hard far too often John. In fact, I'd say this is probably doing you a world of good!'

'How did it happen?' Blurted out Munch. He immediately went beet red and added 'If you don't mind my asking...'

'Not at all Munch, not at all! Though I hardly think it's that exciting of a story. All that happened was that, ummm... Oh yes that was it! Lord Ponsonby was mucking around with a large sceptre, and all of a sudden it shot out a bolt, severed a rope, and a, um ahh... Oh what do you call them? I can never remember...'

Callum piped up, 'Chandelier?'

'Yes Callum! A chandelier came crashing down onto my head. Hurt like hell, but I survived. What in the world would I do without you Callum?' He leaned forward and kissed his son on the head with a large 'Mwah!' and Callum returned the favour by gently wrapping his arms around his dad and hugging him like a clingy koala.

Munch was suddenly remembered the box he had in his hands, the whole reason he came here. 'Oh yeah, Mr Cuddlekit, I made these for you to help make you feel better. I made a lot, so feel free to share them out to anybody who might be nearby, or anyone who might have skipped breakfast.' As he said it he handed over the box, which Callum eagerly helped his father in opening. Mr Cuddlekit pulled out one of the beautifully shaped biscuits and his face morphed into pure elation as he sank his teeth in. Munch once again felt the arms of Callum's mom around him, and this time turned to embrace her properly, squeezing the coral cat, trying to leech out from her body some of the sadness he had seen in her face earlier.

'Thank you so much Munchy, you really are such a sweet boy!' These words set his tail to wagging, and fairly soon the Candy-pink dog was waving goodbye to Callum and his mom, the former promising he would be out with the gang again tomorrow. GRRRRZBZZRT-

While he walked, MunchyPup began to think to himself. It really wasn't fair that Catnap's family had to go through that. I mean, It was a horrible accident, no family should! But it happening to a friend made it seem so much more real. He was always so quiet and thoughtful and... -BZZZT PHZDZZ- Munch stopped. He just had the weirdest sense of Deja vu... like when you forget why you walked into a room but only bigger... Oh well, he was probably just starting to feel the effects of hangriness. So, Munch raced home to begin preparing the likely metric tonne of food he would be consuming for his Lunch.

I FELL ASLEEP THREE TIMES WHILE WRITING THIS, IM GOING TO BED!