#hes my little fucking son hes so soft and chill and sweet

[hotdrinks]

[ID: A photo of a brown tabby kitten laying on a blanket. End ID]

I never updated Tumblr but there's a new animal in my house (his name is Teddy)

[seventeenpins]

just like heaven

pairing: best friend's mom!Tess x stoner!reader word count: 5k summary: Your best friend's mom catches you smoking in her living room. She teaches you a lesson. content/warnings: dubcon, intoxication, Tess is predatory, age gap, an exceptional amount of weed smoking, virgin!reader, smut smut smut, mommy kink, a lil bit of softness because I��m the one writing it 🤷, Tess gets you high and fucks you a/n: okay this is literally just a porn scenario, with the express purpose of celebrating morally grey predatory lesbians, working on pushing my own boundaries as I write, and an ode to Tess Servopoulos, who I would be honoured to have step on me. Shoutout to @ozarkthedog for the title, for being my whole heart and for allowing me to scream horny Tess thoughts at you every minute of the day, and to @ems-chaos-corner whose feedback and beautiful reactions are deeply appreciated, truly cherished, and an absolute fucking joy! 🥹

It's Friday night and the week's been a shit show. The week kicked off with a work catastrophe, and the second the fires had been put out, up started the roommate drama.  You had just picked up fresh bud, but you'd left your bong at the home of your friend. Or rather, his mom's home, in whose basement he resides.

You and Charlie have known each other most of your lives, but his mother had been a workaholic, rarely at home, and memorable only from birthdays and holidays. Near the end of her marriage, she discovered her husband had been having an affair. To settle the score, she fucked his mistress.

It was the most enduring of the neighborhood gossip, and though you knew Tess, at least a little bit, you found yourself almost mythologizing her.

Since the divorce, Tess became much more present as a mother. She worked a few less hours and invited her son to live in her lavish, post-divorce home, rent free, as he made his way through college.

You didn’t see her often, but you liked her. And, she thought of you as one of Charlie’s “good” friends, as the two of you had never gotten into any legal trouble, and you always felt a little special, knowing she was cool with you. You’d seen her glare down Charlie’s other friends, but you swear, she even winked at you once.

So now, the plan–

Charlie was gonna meet you here, and then you were gonna hang out and smoke together. He assured you his mom wouldn't be home for hours–she’s got a big press conference tonight. 

But you'd just gotten a call from him; one of your coworkers called out, and he's already there, so he's gonna pull a double and get that sweet, sweet overtime pay.

(He did ask if you wanted the shift. You told him absolutely not, but appreciated the consideration.)

He texts you when he's on his break. Sorry I bailed! Will make it up to you! You can chill at mine as long as you like. You can crash too. I know you hate the basement, so go smoke in the living room. Mom won't be home till late, and the fan works great. I do it all the time.

It's a relief, not feeling relegated to his room. It was a fine room, you supposed, but stumbling upon crispy socks twice has been two times too many. And, maybe, you’d have a chance to snoop.

It's eight pm. You've been at Charlie's for an hour, and you're finally starting to feel the stress of the day ebb away. You let your eyes flutter closed as you clear the chamber and hold in the smoke. You start to let it out, but reel back coughing when the lights are suddenly switched on, startling you badly enough you jump a foot into the air.

"Didn't your mother teach you any manners?" says a cool voice, and you feel your stomach flip with sudden terror, eyes flying open.

Tess stands in the doorway, glowering.

It takes you a minute, a mortifyingly long minute, for the coughing to subside. The more you try to suppress it, the worse it gets, and the whole time, she’s glaring at you.

"I'm not really close to my mom." You tell her. She stares at you blankly.

"Not the fucking point." She says, but now she looks like she's holding back a laugh.

"Sorry," you try to explain, "I didn't know anyone would be home, I thought you had a work thing–"

She rolls her eyes before turning and making a show of opening all of the windows.

"Remember, this is my fuckin house, kid," she snaps at you, "Press conference was cancelled.”

“Oh,” you frown, “That sucks.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Tess rolls her eyes. "Yeah. It fucking sucks. The production’s truck got broken into at the last fucking second and we lost half our gear.”

“Well, shit.” You're not quite sure where to go with this, what to say.

You look away for a moment, awkward and uncomfortable, but she makes no move to go anywhere. When you look back, you realize she's still looking at you, eyes sweeping you up and down before landing on your emptied water glass, still damp with condensation, sitting next to a coaster. Quickly, you scramble to correct it.

"We gotta work on your manners," she says and nods, decision made.

“Hey, I’m– I’m sorry. I should go. I shouldn’t be here, didn't mean to be in your way- And I’m sorry, again—"

She ignores you, your rambling falling on deaf ears. She strides across the room and seats herself down on the sofa opposite you. You envy the way she carries herself, the way she seems to swagger pussy-first, sits down with her legs spread, commands the entire space. She's kind of... magnetic. There's something about her that makes your stomach do flips.

"Aren't you gonna offer me a hit?"

"Oh." You weren't expecting this. "I– Yeah, do you want–"

"Why don't you come over here. Sit with me."

"Um, sure-" you say, and you pick up the bong and lighter and start to sit down next to her, nearly trying to budge up next to her outspread legs.

But she stops you before you can touch her and grabs you by the wrist, patting her knee.

"Right here, sweetheart," she smirks.

Your stomach flips. "Oh no, I don't think that-"

"It's alright, honey, I don't bite."

It's less of a request and more of a command. Your heart, which had only been a little settled for a moment, started to race again.

"Oh- okay."

You lower yourself down.

"Face me," she corrects you. You'd been going to sit on her knee with your own knees pressed together. You redirect your limbs and swing a leg over her, so you're straddling her thigh.

"Good girl," she tells you, and as if you don't need a whole moment to reevaluate your entire life, she continues, seemingly oblivious. It's a casual, almost disinterested, "So, what is it we're smoking?"

"Um, it's... it's weed-"

She barks a laugh and it nearly startles you. It doesn't mean anything, the way you feel yourself bounce on her leg, the pressure at the inseam- "Yeah, kid," she snorts, "I figured that bit out myself."

"Of course," you mumble, humiliated, "Sorry, being stupid-"

She cuts you off. "When I was your age- well actually, how old are you? You even old enough to buy this shit?"

"Twenty-one," you admit with a wince, suddenly wishing you had at least a decade on your actual age.

"You're killin' me, kid," she huffs out a long breath and shakes her head.

It only derails her for a moment.

"Well, when I was your age, this shit wasn’t even close to making it onto the ballot, let alone get legalized. We didn't know anything about strains. We'd get a dry little dime bag for ten bucks. It usually turned out to be mostly shake and seeds, but that's all we could get, so we'd pay the creep who lived down the street and tried not to piss him off cause he was the only weed guy we knew."

"Well." You're not quite sure what to say. "That sounds like it sucked. I guess times aren’t so different though. There’s a really creepy budtender at the shop this side of town. But there’s also a cute girl who works there. It’s overpriced and looks like a fuckin’ Apple Store. Whenever she’s working, though, she slips me a couple extra pre-rolls. So it’s kinda worth it."

You see something in her eyes flash and then return to her steady gaze.

"It's been years since I've smoked," she admits. "Well, weed at least. Still smoke the occasional cig.”

"Oh really, why’d you stop?

"Well, I don't think I've smoked regularly since my early twenties. We lost our dealer and it just didn't seem worth it to find another. It was really just word of mouth, where I was living.”

"Your dealer get caught or something?"

"Not exactly. See, he'd tried to slip his hand up a girls' skirt and the girl was decidedly not into it. The asshole ended up with a shattered nose. I've always loved how they described it. Shattered. Served him right."

You nod.

"He decided it maybe wasn't worth it." She pauses. "So. I guess your generation has fancy fuckin dispensaries, and my generation had the weed guy. Your generation has such dumbass names for strains and, and mine crossed our fingers hoping we weren’t just gettin’ stems and seeds."

You're silent for a moment.

Then, stumbling and foolish, you ask her a question.

"How old are you?"

"Old enough to be your mother." She smirks and your stomach flips. “Now, let's see what it's like these days, shall we?"

From her jeans pocket she withdraws a flint-wheel lighter. It’s old, but it's nice. The initials TS are engraved on the case.

She opens it and flicks it a couple of times with practiced ease. It doesn't take at first, and she mutters something about dammit–! need to refill it–, but on the third spark it lights.

You start to pass her the bong, but she lights the bowl and pushes it back towards you.

"Fill the chamber for me? It's been a while-"

You do. Smoke swirls through it, thick as soup and glossy. You pass it back to her.

Tess doesn't break eye contact with you as she almost clears it, only a thin whisper left circling the chamber.

It's a lot of smoke, and either she's lying about not having smoked, or she's insane, because that's a lot of smoke.

When she clears the chamber, she only holds it for a moment, places the bong on the floor next to her and, to your surprise, pulls you in.

It's not quite a kiss but she's holding the back of your head so you lean in, open mouthed, as if it were. Instead of kissing you properly, she exhales the smoke into your mouth, floods you with it, and when she's done breathing out, she places a palm over your mouth and blocks any breath from escaping.

"Hold it, honey, that's right-" she praises.

You can feel your eyes start to water, the way you're not quite coughing yet but you're pretty sure the second you try to breathe any of it out, you'll be lost.

With her pinky knuckle, she prods into the bowl of the bong again and moves the bud around, so the most charred bit is discarded and fresh bud is at the top.

"You can let go now," Tess tells you, finally pulling her hand away.

You let out the smoke and, as you predicted, fold over yourself starting to cough. Tess just smiles, and fills the chamber again.

By the third time she has you clear the chamber, not even using her lungs as proxy anymore, you can taste your heartbeat and the room isn't fading, exactly, it's more dotting. The world around you is a pointillism piece that's unfinished in inexplicable spots.

Your skin feels like it's dancing, and there are hands gliding along your hips, up your waist, grazing your breast-

"How’re you feeling, kid?" a voice asks, and you know where you are.

"Mmmm- Good." you sigh, "I feel good. You feel good."

"Oh, do I?" she asks. The hands continue to trace paths all over your body.

"Your hands. Real nice. You feel real nice."

Her eyebrows raise. Her head tilts. She's examining you.

Tess's hands settle on your waist. You barely notice the way she's rocking you gently towards her, and back again. Forwards, and backwards.

You hear a moan, desperate and raw, and you don't realize you're the source of it until you watch the way her eyes darken.

"Have you been with a woman before?" Tess asks.

You grin, sheepish. "Not really-"

Her eyebrows shoot up. "What does ‘not really’ mean?"

“I…” you chew your lip. “I guess I haven’t technically done… much. With anyone.”

Tess’s eyes widen.

You try to backpedal, worried it sounds too silly, too immature, that it's a turn-off for her. That wherever this was going, it's about to make a swift one-eighty. Suddenly sobered, you stammer on. “I mean, I’ve kissed girls before. And, like, played with their tits, you know?”

"Shit," Tess's voice is close to a growl, and for one awful moment you're certain she's about to call the whole thing off and tell you to get off her lap.

You know where you've found yourself. On the lap of someone far too old for you, rocking you against her thigh, letting her hands grope you however she pleases-

Her hands still, and you’re shocked at how immediately you feel bereft.

“And you want me to be your first woman?” She asks, voice velvety and dangerous.

“Yes,” you say, not even thinking about it. “I want you to be my first.”

Tess breathes out slowly, and only then do you realize exactly what you’ve said. The silence is terrifying, and with every microsecond that passes, you’re more sure she’s going to throw you out.

Then she starts bouncing her thigh, the motion creating the most unexpected and desperately needed friction. It’s gentle, but you can feel the way her muscles tense and relax, and every part of it might drive you insane.

You stifle a moan, needing her to say something, but not wanting to jeopardize the position you’ve found yourself in. Maybe if she thinks about it, she’ll stop, and that’s a risk you’re not willing to take.

"I bet I can teach you a thing or two."

Your jaw drops comically.

"Teach me?" you ask.

"Teach you how to make a woman feel good. How to use your fingers, put that pretty mouth to use-"

You feel yourself heat at her praise, and she grins, brushing a thumb against your lower lip.

"I think-" you know your voice sounds pathetic and worn and woozy from the harshness of the hits you took, "I think I maybe.. I think I have a lot to learn."

“But first,” her grin becomes truly wicked and you feel the tension that's been building in you start to twist, get hot and slick and desperate. Her hand trails down to your neck, her thumb resting over your pulse point. “You seem nervous, honey. Let’s help you relax a little more.”

She picks the bong back up. “Pack us a fresh bowl, will you?”

“More?” you ask. You can already feel the redness of your eyes, and know that any more will make you stupid.

“More.” Tess agrees.

“We could just, like, start by making out?” you suggest.

Tess doesn’t even try to hide her smirk.

“You wanna make out?” she taunts, lip curled.

“Fuck, Tess, I’m high–” you whine, “I didn’t mean that to sound so high school.”

“God,” she sighs, shaking her head, “You’re so damn young.”

And after a moment elapses.

“Go on,” she nods to the bong, and you remember what you were meant to be doing.

You stand up, immediately aching, missing the way her strong thigh had rubbed between your legs. It occurs to you that you may have left a wet spot on her pants.

You make quick work of it, emptying out the ash and packing a fresh bowl.

“You wanna kiss me, pretty girl?” she asks.

“Yes-” you sigh, and you all but dive forward, only to receive a gentle hand to your shoulder, holding you back.

“Here’s the deal, sweetheart. Every hit you take, you get a kiss.”

“I– Tess I can’t– I’ll be so high I’ll be stupid–”

“No, baby,” Tess croons, “You’ll be nice and relaxed. You’ll get to feel my hands all over that beautiful body of yours. You’ll be my good girl.”

She grins when you let out an involuntary whine.

“You wanna be a good girl for me, don’t you? And when you really need to tap out, I’m sure we can find another way to make sure you get all the kisses you need. Okay?”

You nod, suddenly desperate to please. Of course you can take it. You’ll be so, so good for her. And you’ll get to feel her lips on yours, feel her hands explore you, touch you, take–

The first hit is dizzying, but it mellows out quickly.

Emboldened, you grin at her. “Fair’s fair,” you declare.

Tess rolls her eyes, but she’s smiling, too. “C’mon up, honey.”

You put the pipe down and straddle her. You give yourself just a moment to feel her here, hot and soft and lovely between your thighs. You love the way you can feel her abdomen rise and fall with her breath, and smell her hair.

Slowly, carefully, you lean in. Soft, firm lips press against yours, and you feel a heat inside you immediately combust, roar to life. You’re filled with such unadulterated need, you think you might die.

Then, she pulls away, and you reel.

“No-“ you whimper, and she lifts the bong back up to you.

You don’t know how many hits you take, each punctuated with another press of her lips to yours. You’ve never smoked like this, never this much. The world is dizzy and foggy, but her hands are grounding. They rub broad circles into your aching shoulders, tease you with feather-light touches. 

It’s unclear how much time has passed, but after she pulls away from another kiss, she holds you back when you move to pick up the pipe.

“I think you’ve had enough,” she croons. You love her voice, the way she’s soft with you.

You blink lazily at her and lean in for another kiss.

Instead, she pulls back.

“Honey, don’t forget. Like I said, you’ll have another way to earn these kisses.”

“Want you,” you mumble. Being apart from her for even these moments feels torturous. You need her skin against yours.

“For every article of clothing you take off, you’ll get to touch me.”

You focus on her words, making sure you’re getting it right through the fog in your head.

“Can I—” you trail off.

“Can you what?”

“Can I take it all off? And then I can touch you as much as you like?”

“Well, aren't you ambitious?” She smirks, and then considers, tilting her head side to side. “I suppose that would work. But I want you to put on a show for me.”

You scramble up, with much speed and little grace. She huffs a laugh when you nearly topple as you pull your jeans down.

“Slowly, baby. Want to watch you.”

You do your best to slow down, peeling each garment off, one by one, and leaving them in a disorganized heap.

“That’s it,” she praises, “Doing such a good job.”

When you’re nearly bare, you hesitate, fumbling with the band of your panties. This moment, this moment, feels like the point of no return.

“I— I wanna see you.” You say, suddenly more focused, and very nervous.

“Baby, you’re still wearing your panties.”

She says it sweetly, but you know it’s not a request. It’s a command. You slip them down, now totally naked before her. 

You realize; this is the first time you’ve been so fully naked in front of someone who wants to fuck you.

Doubt and anxiety start to cloud your mind as Tess looks you up and down.

You speak without thinking, “Am I pretty?”

It’s such a simple, inane question. But Tess doesn’t hesitate.

“Of course you are, baby. You’re stunning.” She states, and it’s definitive. Who would ever question Tess?

Warmth rushes back through you, your body suddenly hot again with arousal, banishing any lingering fear. You let yourself feel the fog, feel the sensation.

You relax as you stand, enjoying the feeling of ambient air on your body, the breeze from outside sifting through the hair on your arms and legs.

“Come back to me,” Tess prods, and you realize you’ve been standing with your eyes closed. You open your eyes, and you’re shocked when you see that Tess herself is naked before you. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, golden-brown silk adorning her, streaks of gray at her temples. Her body is firm and toned, but she has her fair share of scars and dimples and cellulite. Stretch marks decorate her belly, old but beautiful with the way they gleam pearlescent in the light.

“You want to touch me?” She asks, and you nod. Hand outstretched, you move towards her. She reaches her hand out to meet you, grasps your palm and kisses your fingertips.

It feels like worship.

“Come with me,” she tells you, and you follow, hand in hers. She brings you to her bedroom, one room in this house you’ve never seen. You want to pay attention to all of it, but you cannot focus. You cannot tear yourself away from her.

She guides you, seating you at the head of the bed with legs spread. Then, she settles herself in between them, spreading her own legs. You can feel her ass against your thighs, the heat radiating from her. You want so badly to touch.

“How do you like to touch yourself?” She asks, and you pause.

You know what you like, but you’ve never actually had to describe it before.

“I, um-“ you swallow. “I like to, uh, work myself up. Play with myself all around, um—“

“Your pussy?”

“Yeah, all around my pussy. And then, when I’m ready, I rub my clit. Make little circles above it. Maybe put a finger or two in, if I feel like it, but usually it’s enough with just my clit.”

Tess nods, and you feel the rumble of a sigh through her body. 

“Touch me like that,” she commands.

And you do.

You slip your arms around her, stroking her thighs. Muscles tense beneath your fingers, and you hear her groan.

Gently, slowly, you trace fingertips closer and closer to her apex. You brush along her inner thighs, and feel victorious when she stifles a gasp. Then, you stroke the outer confines of her vulva, feeling how hot she is between her thighs. The hair between her legs feels sensational against your skin, especially in your high, and you get lost in the feeling of it. You’re touching her. You’re touching her. And she likes it.

She lets you continue to stroke at her, all around her, everywhere but the place she wants you most. Then, you realize you feel a trickle of wetness from her, and you dip your fingertips down to catch it. You slide back up, through her folds, catching so much slickness. She’s wet, she’s so fucking wet, and she’s wet for you. 

You rub your fingers together, obsessed with the almost egg-white slick stringing translucent between them. Everything that you wondered about yourself, worried was an anomaly, proven absent in porn–it’s like a revelation. She’s just like you. And she’s totally different. She’s a mirror, and an entity complete and singular.

She’s a fucking goddess.

You pull her hood back and swipe a slick thumb lightly against her clit. Immediately, you’re dizzy at the sensation of her rolling her hips against you, pressing against you, towards your fingers, trying to get more friction. You barely get any physical contact from her the way you need, but the proximity alone is overwhelming. 

You rut up against her, knowing there’s nothing for you to get yourself off on here without changing position entirely. But the closeness is incredible. You feel your own wetness smear on her back and her ass, the way you’re dripping. And Tess, her back pressed against your breasts, occasionally dipping to nibble kisses along your throat and jaw.

Lost between sensation, and curiosity, you reach through the fog. You want to do a good job. You want to make her feel good. It’s interesting, you think, all the ways she feels different to you. Her labia are a little longer, spreading over your fingers as you stroke along her slit again and again. She’s making the loveliest sounds, whines and moans and whimpers, sounds you never thought you’d hear from her.

When you press your fingers against her clit again, she almost yelps, but the yelp morphs into a deep moan as she starts rocking against the pressure, chasing the sensation. It feels so similar, but totally foreign at the same time. You dip a couple of fingers into her opening. You stroke her how you stroke yourself. And then you move to press in deeper, and the angle’s all wrong. You suddenly feel embarrassed. Of course vaginas aren’t all the same! You try again, relaxing your fingers, slowly massaging into her. She gently rests her hand on yours. You think she might pull it back. Instead, she guides it, angling your fingers just right so they’re slipping into her tight heat and lets out a heaving sigh.

If she’d been trying to stay quiet, to hide from you the effect you’re having on her, that all goes out the window when you start pumping into her.

Now that you have the angle right, you drive your fingers in again and again, scissoring her open, pressing all the soft and lovely bits inside her till she’s howling.

“Fuck,” she hisses, “Oh baby that’s it, keep fucking me with those lovely fingers, you’re doing such a good job–”

You slip in a third finger and her words turn to a breathy jumble of yes, please, more—

She feels so delicious against your fingertips, massaging into her again and again. You love the texture of her. 

Flicking a thumb over her clit as you pump in and out in measured strokes, her whole body begins to convulse.

“Fuck!” She shouts, “Fuck, I’m—”

She comes with a cry, shaking in your lap, and you continue to stroke her through it.

When her body stops trembling and her breathing slows, she tilts her head back, resting on your shoulder, gracing you with a throaty laugh.

“Shit, kid,” she she looks dazed, totally fucked out. You should really get a trophy for this. Or a medal. Made Tess Servoupolous Nut So Hard She Saw God, it would say.

As she finishes catching her breath, she reaches her arm around you and strokes your hair. “You did good,” she tells you, “A real natural.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “Fuck if I haven’t been needing that.”

She peels herself from you, the sweat between you adhering your tits to her back, and it’s almost funny the squelch that your bodies make. 

And then, she’s on top of you, moving you again, body soft and malleable. She’s spreading your thighs, your soaked cunt grinding against her own– puffy, slick and spent. 

She smiles at you. “Last chance, sweetheart. You want me to make you feel good? Play with that pretty pussy? Pop that cherry, once and for all?”

The haze returns, and it can’t be just the high, not coming over you like this. No. It’s her. It’s her scent, her power, her skin against yours, and you need need need–

“Give it to me–,” you beg, and she does.

Long fingers part you, slide inside, scissor and twist. It’s slow at first, almost gentle. But you don’t need gentle right now. You need her, every part of her.

You grind against her fingers, the heel of her palm putting pressure right against your clit. 

“You’re being such a good girl,” she coos, “Opening up nice and wide for mommy, that’s it–”

It’s unexpected, and if you’re being honest, it’s a little bit weird.

But that doesn’t fucking matter because fuck it’s hot–

Your legs spread further, in part from Tess’s coaxing, and in part because they seem to want to fling themselves open all on their own. 

Two fingers increase to three, and then to four, and she’s pumping in for all she’s worth with her hand, her thumb pressed against your clit, pressing your button like she’s made for it. You’re trying to find words but you can’t–all you can do is moan and whine and rut against her, with nothing more than “Tess, please– Mommy mommy oh my god mommy your fingers feel so fucking good—”

And she grins at you wickedly, and keeps at her ministrations as she praises you– “Taking my fingers so fucking well. That’s a good girl, that’s it, oh honey– I can feel how you’re dripping down my wrist, how good you’re clenching round me. It’s okay, baby, you can let go. Let go for me, sweetheart, c’mon, let go–”

You come with a shout, pussy drenching her as she fucks you through it.

As you catch your breath and come down, she strokes your thighs, trails pruney fingertips across your stomach.

“You’ve been so good for mommy,” she smiles, eyes crinkling, “Big girl, taking all of that her first time, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you agree, totally worn out. “Thank– thank you, Tess–” you sigh.

“Hmm,” she snorts, “I thought you’d do well with a lesson.”

“I did good?” you ask.

“You did great, honey,” she laughs. “And what did we learn?”

You take stock of yourself. Of your body, your mind, the fog and the lingering high, and the absolute euphoria of the past however long you’ve been fucking and being fucked.

A smile creeps across your face. You try to tamp it down, but it’s pointless. “I’ve learned that I should always smoke weed in Charlie’s mom’s house, and maybe, if I’m very lucky, I’ll even get caught!”

Tess laughs, a full-bellied, beautiful thing. 

“I think, princess, you’ve got a lot more to learn.”

[fleurriee]

— beautiful dreams ; neteyam sully

pairing ; neteyam sully x fem!reader

synopsis ; turns out, there isn’t much difference between the dream version of neteyam and the real him.

word count ; 3.9k

themes ; smut, slight fluff???

warnings ; explicit content: p in v sex, pussy play, oral (f receiving), fingering, dirty talk... let me know if there's anything else?

author’s note ; this was just a little something i thought of & couldn’t force it out of my head, so i wrote it for everyone else to suffer with me. i kinda just assumed that na’vi sleep naked in this so we’re going with that, too.

main masterlist request a fic!

There was only one person who would plague your dreams, and every night he came to visit your mind and torment your feelings further. For as long as you can remember, you’ve had a crush on Neteyam Sully, eldest son of Toruk Makto - and, unsurprisingly, so had everyone else. The way he presented himself, the way he would shy away from attention but enjoy feeling proud of his achievements, the way he always made sure to protect his family and the rest of the clan. It was all too much for your fragile heart, and before you knew it, you were head over heels for him.

God forbid, you ever did anything about it, though. It was obvious from the very start that Neteyam would never reciprocate your feelings - he was next in line for Olo’eyktan, meaning he was way out of your league. Besides, it wasn’t like he had the choice of choosing his mate; that decision always fell down to his parents.

And, yet, despite knowing all of this, that didn’t stop him from visiting your dreams, night after night...

"Oh fuck!" you moan, guttural, the sound clawing from the back of your throat. Neteyam's relentlessly fucking himself into you, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot like an ethereal rhythm, one you never want to stop. “Mmm, N-Neteyam.”

You only become more of a whimpering mess when he brings one of his hands down to rub his finger ceaselessly against your clit. The sensations that are brought about by both his fingers and his cock are almost too much to bear, tears beginning to form in your eyes at the pleasure.

Neteyam chuckles, his movements picking up speed as soon as he notices your fucked out expression, loving the way you look when overstimulated by him. His name falling from your lips causes a tightness to form in his lower stomach, too, the way it’s spoken so explicitly. The increase in pace has you gasping, mouth open agape as there’s nothing else in your mind but the beauty of Neteyam. “Oh, god. ‘ts too m-much, ‘Teyam!”

The feeling of your release is just seconds away, you’re sure of it, and the excitement building up within you is both painful and ethereal all at once. Only Neteyam can make you feel this way - only Neteyam can bring such beautiful sensations to your very core. Not once does his movements slow down, finger erratically rubbing against your bud.

But, when you’re just moments away from tumbling from your release, coming down from your high with Neteyam surely not too far behind, you’re suddenly awoken. Eyes opening wide, breathing coming out in soft pants, you attempt to collect yourself and your composure. It wouldn’t exactly be great if someone saw the state of you - you were sure it was obvious what you’d been doing beforehand.

Running a hand gently down your slightly sweating face, trying to wake yourself up to the best of your ability, you feel a slight chill run down your spine. Your hair stands on end, and all you can think is maybe your subconscious had woken you up for a particular reason.

When your eyes filter around your tent, finding nothing but emptiness, it isn’t until they land on the entrance, the remnants of your wonderful dream slowly disappearing from your mind. Standing there, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the structure, tent flap closed against him, is Neteyam, and heat floods through your entire body, no doubt painting your skin a darker hue.

Embarrassment is all you can feel as it rushes through your system until you’re positive you might die from it. Then you remember something that makes your entire situation all the more worse - something your friends had been known to tell you more often than not (much to your annoyance) - you sleep talk... That means, more likely than not, Neteyam heard you moaning, making it clearly obvious what you were dreaming of. You have no idea if you’d moaned his name, either, but by the look on his face, the smug expression that’s not leaving any time soon, it seems you already have your answer.

Incoherent mumbles tumble from your lips, nothing you’re saying understandable because you don’t truly know what you want to say. You want to apologise profusely, but at the same time, all you want is for the ground to swallow you whole and never see Neteyam ever again.

But, neither happen. Instead, you continue lying against the mat, propped up against your elbows, and Neteyam stays in the entrance. There’s a small smirk lingering upon his lips, tongue flicking out every now and again as his eyes finally leave your own to rake themselves up and down your body. Such attention on you has you shivering in your place, unsure as to whether you should be enjoying it as much as you internally are. But, on the outside, however, you find yourself shrinking away from his gaze, suddenly shy and introverted.

In the next moment, still no words having been shared between the two of you, he’s taking a step closer, his movements precise and a little slow, almost like he’s trying to seem menacing. With your heart pounding harshly within your throat, you prepare yourself for the moment he starts to yell at you, waiting for the insults of you’re disgusting for having dreamt of him in such an intimate way. In order to protect your already broken heart, you intend to stand up, pushing yourself further into the air as you shuffle further away from him.

In an instant, it’s obvious he didn’t like that. He bends down, hands catching the bottoms of your legs as he claps them tightly. With a firm but somewhat gentle tug, he drags your sprawled out figure back over to him, a look of teasing on his features. “Where are you going, hmm?” With furrowed eyes, you look up at him in innocent confusion, not being able to understand what he’s doing and why he’s doing it. It’s clear he heard what was going on within the turmoils of your dream, so why wasn’t he yelling at you already? “You want me that bad you’re dreaming about me?”

“Neteyam-” you begin, voice quiet and laced with utter puzzlement, attempting to explain yourself and your hazy dream. But, you don’t get that far, because, in one sudden movement, Neteyam is ripping the thin sheet that once covered your bare body, throwing it off to the side with no regard for the material. The cold of the night air rushes through you, hitting you full force at once, causing you to shiver in your place. You comfort yourself for some warmth - and also to shy away from Neteyam’s intense, lingering gaze - by covering your chest, legs moving up on instinct until you're curled up, cocooned.

You hardly spend a single second in this position, however, when Neteyam smacks your arms away from your chest, and forces your legs to part. A gasp lodges within your throat, both at the feeling of such cold air hitting your vulnerability but also at the way he looks as though all he wants right then is to ravish you whole. “No, no,” he tuts, shaking his head in mock disappointment, “we’re not doing that.” His eyes forcefully tear themselves away from your heat, looking into your gaze intensely, hotly, lidded from lust. “I want you to tell me exactly what I was doing to you in your dream.”

Completely shocked, mouth hanging slightly open and eyes blown wide, ears perked high upon your head and tail on alert (albeit, the end seems to be twitching in excitement, something you can't seem to control), you can form no words - not even a mumble. None of this situation makes any sense to you - he should be disgusted, calling you horrible, vile names and cursing you out to the Great Mother, no doubt making sure the entire clan knew about your deviant mind and explicit thoughts. Instead, he doesn't move from his kneeled spot in front of you, hands still clasped on your legs as he gives them a gentle squeeze. All of this still feels like a dream, one you definitely don't want to wake up from... but, a dream, nonetheless.

Another chuckle escapes his lips from your speechless expression, inadvertently loving the idea of him being the cause of such a reaction. It only makes him want more. "Y/n," he says, voice husky and sensual, the sound leaving your bare pussy clenching around nothing but air, hoping upon everything that he doesn't notice the movement and understands just his voice is doing that to you. "Tell me exactly what I did - I want you to feel good."

This is where your brain seemingly converts itself into two. Whilst one side of you wishes for him to just leave and get the rumours over and done with, so you can live out the rest of your life in shame, alone now that no one else would want you, knowing how your dreams turned out when the future Olo'eyktan was near... the other melted, shivering in its place at both his words and the way they sounded rolling off his tongue, speaking to you. You fought hard to not give in to him - you really did - but when he looks so handsome just slightly above you, asking you to tell what you dream of him doing to you, wanting to make you feel good, who were you to not give into him?

Before you can truly comprehend your actions, your mouth is moving on its own accord. Still, your voice stays small, hesitant. "You... you were fucking me..." A blush forms against your cheeks, the feel of the heat rushing against you only making you feel more embarrassed.

But, then your eyes move down to his lips, watching as his fangs catch his bottom lip whilst the edges curve up in a rueful smile. He shakes his head, beginning to lower himself further down to the ground, until he's lying flat on his stomach and his face is just inches on top. Making sure to keep your legs open with his soothing palms caressing the insides of your thighs, there's a menacing smirk present when he speaks next. "Well, we can't do that straight away - don't want you to get hurt." For a very brief moment, his words have your heart fluttering in blissful pleasure; hearing him not want you to get hurt because of him feels nice, it feels almost loving, so much so, you almost forget the dirty position he's placed the two of you in. "Guess I'll just have to get you ready."

"What?" you begin to question his meaning, eyes narrowed in confusion as you look upon him, but your words are drowned out for the sigh that escapes from your lips when he presses a soft kiss against your heat. Head tilted back in pure pleasure as you continuously sigh from the feeling building up below, he continues pressing a few more kisses against you, lavishing in the wetness of your core present from both your previous dream, but also Neteyam.

It isn't long before he stops his kisses, and instead starts to give you kitten licks upon your clit. This sensation is better than the last - something you hadn't thought possible - and it has you gasping loudly, eyes closed shut as you let yourself succumb to him. Your back arches subconsciously, wanting to be somehow closer to him than you already are, and when his teasing tongue movements only continue, you attempt to close in on instinct, but Neteyam forces them apart, wanting - needing - your full glory on display. He laughs at the way you're so sensitive to him already, having barely begun, eyes never once leaving your awe-inducing features, lidded over like a predator stalking his prey. Neteyam knows you're wet and delicate from the dream you had just woken up from, but he decides to take credit for that, too - after all, you were moaning his name, meaning they were technically his actions, too; ones he was hoping to live through now.

His tongue never stops in its movements, even as it begins to lower, making its way down to your entrance as he leaves you a teasing mess. Such sensations were only thought of in your dreams, and even the aftermath of them wasn't this good. It has you eliciting your first moan, loud and careless, hand intuitively gripping against the top of his braids, fingers closing tightly around them. Neteyam groans into your heat when you do so, enjoying gaining everything you're offering to him. It only tightens his lower stomach all the more.

Continuously, Neteyam doesn't stop eating you out like a full course meal, like he was absolutely starving and there was no other meal left for him to devour but you, savouring the way you taste and only wanting more. He gently prods a finger against your entrance, wanting to let you know what his next move was, before slipping it in with ease. Your walls clench around him immediately, and another groan sounds at the back of his throat at the feeling of your tightness against his finger, mind wondering deliciously to how such a feeling would be against his cock. You gasp, holding your breath - you had done this to yourself before, thanks to your dreams, but knowing that this was Neteyam - the real Neteyam - caused the sensations flowing from your mind to the bottom of your toes to increase in their power. Once fit snuggly inside you, he only waits a few seconds before he's curling his finger at the end, your thighs trembling a little as he manages to hit such a sweet spot within you, one you had never reached before. Without realising it, your lower half moves upwards, closer to his face, craving for more of everything he's willingly giving you, until he pushes you back down with his free hand.

He starts to pump his finger in and out of you, watching your expressions constantly change from pleasured to glorified to awed, basking in you wholly. "Nete-" you moan, hands staying on the top of his head, fingers tangling in his brains, ensuring that he stays crushed between your thighs as continues sucking on your clit in beautiful motions, wanting him to stay there forever.

Due to already being sensitive from your dream, you can feel your release closely approaching its end, building up like a knot within your system, and its only when Neteyam adds a second finger in your heat, curling that one, too, pumping them both at a rapid pace that has you seeing stars, it becomes too much. "Neteyam!" You're tipped over the edge straight away, a moan that's mixed with a scream lodging within your throat, blissful. His movements begin to slow down, but continue to pump in and out of you, aiding you in riding out your orgasm.

When he pulls his fingers out, sitting up as his looks down at the beautiful sight he's helped make, you open your hooded eyes, hazy and clouded. The view above you causes heat to rush through you again, but, this time, it feels more provocative, more explicit. Neteyam's face is completely covered in your wetness, and he makes sure you're watching him when he brings his fingers to his mouth, sucking on them and licking them clean of your orgasm.

A small bout of embarrassment floods through you, but its halted by anticipation when, in one swift movement, Neteyam is untying his loincloth and throwing it to the side. His cock springs free from its previous hold, smacking against his lower abdomen, the tip leaking with precum as it shows off his obvious arousal. It has you feeling a little proud that you could make him feel such a way, and suddenly, you don't feel as embarrassed as before. Instead, you only want more of Neteyam Sully, and with the way he's looking at you now, you know you're in for a real treat.

Hooking his arms around your thighs, he pulls your entire body closer to his, until your ass met against his skin. This alone has you excited, the wetness of your arousal already making its appearance known once again. Saliva pools in your mouth and you swallow in anticipation, watching as Neteyam grabs his cock in his hand, pumping himself a few times to get him completely wet, before he teasingly rubs it against your pussy, mixing your arousals together. He grunts throatily, never having felt such a thrill rush through him, having wanted this with you for too long now for anything to stop him.

"Now," he starts, panting, almost out of breath and delirious of the idea of your pussy being so close to him intimately, "I was fucking you, yeah? Like this?" he gestures to your position, of you lying flat on your back with him hovering over you deliciously. You struggle to forms words, however, too busy basking in the feeling of his cock rubbing against you, wanting him impossibly closer, so you stick to nodding instead. He lines himself up to your entrance, the tip poking through and it has you clenching in apprehension, even more so when he smirks down at you, tilting his head to the side mockingly. "Let's see if the reality is better than the dream."

Pushing himself into you, he groans, the sound coming out almost like a growl, which only intensifies your arousal all the more. A whine falls from your own lips at the stretch, both painful yet somehow pleasurable, too. Once he bottoms out, the tip of his cock hitting such a delicious spot within you, balls fitting snug against your warmth, he reaches down, hand coming up to caress your cheek with both care and devotion. "You okay?"

In any other circumstance, maybe his question would've had butterflies swarming in your stomach, but seeing as you can only nod, fucked out from everything that Neteyam's giving you in such a short space of time, you'd have to try and remind yourself of it later on. Standing back up straight, hands against your hips as he holds you in place, Neteyam starts to fuck himself in and out of you in a perfect rhythm. Not once does his cock not hit that spongy spot right at your cervix, your mouth hanging agape in bliss and eyes rolling into the back of your head.

Too much at once - your arousal from the dream, your previous orgasm, and just this being Neteyam in general - means you're already close to the edge, hypersensitive, but you can't bring yourself to care. Instead, you only wish to chase that feeling, so as Neteyam picks up in his speed, you move your hips, too, meeting him half way and causing your skin to slap harder against one another.

You can feel him throb within you when you start doing that, his cock twitching against your walls, so you carry on doing it. Closer and closer to the edge you get, until you remember that Neteyam had wanted to fuck you exactly like he had been in your dream... so you do exactly as he'd wished.

With shaky movements, you grab a hold of one of his hands on your hips and move it down towards your pussy. Just based off that barest of implications, he knows what you want, especially when he makes eye contact with you once more, hooded eyes meeting together as a pout forms on your lips, like a plead. "Was I doing this, too?" he asks as he presses his finger against your clit, a hiss protruding from you as ecstasy rides through you. All the while, he doesn't stop fucking you relentlessly once. "Hmm, was I playing with your little pussy while I fucked you good?"

"Uhh, fuck!" you moan, the mixture of everything finally getting to you, the impossibility of this situation you somehow found yourself in. With unfathomable speeds, balls hitting against your pussy deliciously as his tip hits the back of your sweet spot, Neteyam's hand grinds itself against your clit. He would do this several times, before he'd relieve you and pat harshly against your warmth, and repeating the cycle again.

Your moans and your groans are becoming too much for Neteyam, too, as he finds himself nearing the edge of his control. There was nothing better than seeing you completely fucked out underneath him, tight around his cock, moaning his name and asking for his fingers. He knew he'd wanted this for a long time now, but actually being granted it was a whole other thing, one he was never going to give up.

Neteyam's thrusts start to become sloppy and without their rhythm, lying down on top of you. Ensuring his weight doesn't completely crush you, the hand that isn't continuing to elicit such delicious moans from you just from touching your oversensitive pussy is placed next to your head, holding him up.

One thing that had been driving him mad when he had walked by and heard you originally was the scent that was wafting from your tent - a mixture of your usual one, but one of sexual desire, of arousal. It was what had drove him against his better judgement and forced him inside to bring him to where he is now, forever thankful. So, fitting his head snuggly within the crook of your neck, he inhales deeply, his senses being sent into overdrive when the smell of you is all that's known to him, wanting to bask in it for the rest of his life.

And, when you wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him into you deeper - both his head and his cock - he truly believes this is what it's like when you're with the Great Mother after your death. Nothing else could be so beautiful, so ethereal, and yet so unbelievably good at the same time.

"Fu-fuck," Neteyam curses into your skin, his breath leaving you hot and breathless as the two of you finally come down from your highs. You feel his release shoot out like hot bursts, painting your walls, but also your own as it envelops his cock whole and trickles out of your entrance and down his length.

There's a short moment of silence that lingers between the two of you, yourself unsure of how you really go about anything next. Panting heavily and swallowing drily, trying to bring yourself back to reality by blinking several times, Neteyam's head reluctantly moves around from your neck and hovers over you. Your noses are practically touching, hot breaths mingling together as one as neither of you can look away from the other.

"So, all this time, you wanted me, too?" he questions, voice cocky as he smirks down at you. Disbelief courses through your veins, your mind having to repeat what he'd just said to you, before a breathy - albeit confused - laugh escapes you, unintentionally clenching around him again. Your actions rise a hiss out of him, and he cocks his brow at you, tilting his head to the side - something that only has you feeling aroused again. "Oh, narlor (beautiful)... all you had to do was ask."

taglist ;

@monahiiii @bakugouswaif @andraga12 @draiochtwrites @teyums @neteyamslovrr @tinkerbelle05 @netesanrr @lanasblood @camilo-uwu @queen190 @adrianarose7 @ttkttt @ayoungforeveruniverse-blog @lucialobelia @littlepisceanpixie @gyuventure @afro-hispwriter @thexplosivegirl @bellstwd @tahni-04

[pinkmelodie]

First Miguel fic + 250+ follower special ୨୧

I’d like to start off by saying THANK YOU SO SO MUCH FOR ALMOST 300 FOLLOWERS !! And 2000+ notes?!? omg. I checked my inbox a few times and saw 99+ notifs every time, and when I tell you I SCREAMED. As a new writer I can’t thank you enough for all the notes and sweet comments ! I’m so grateful, so take this fic as a thank you <33

Warnings: Miguel is hinted to have slept with socks on which….is a trigger on its own apparently 😥, potentially botched ass Spanish……(no Google translate was used tho, my French teacher taught me better than that), p in v, making out, grinding, slight blood, reader has no chill nor filter but Miguels lowkey into it, degradation, bondage, banter, oral, praise, etc.

a/n: Takes place before the whole Miles incident !! I love Miguel but I can’t forgive him for doing that to my son 🤨🤨 This could also be imagined as König, since they’re both huge stubborn men <33

Pairing: Female reader x Miguel O’Hara 

Summary: Miguel is pent up and needs a release. Lucky for him, there’s a certain spider woman who’d do anything for him <3

Words: 4141 (DAMN I shocked myself w this)

. . .

Miguel runs his hand through his hair, grumbling when he feels it’s getting to a length that needs cutting again. Just another thing to add to his pile of responsibilities.

He pushes the fumbled blanket off to the side and lazily palms at his morning wood, finding the ministrations do little to help his raging hard-on. He’s shocked, mainly that he could still get one with how tense he’s been lately, but mostly that he’s actually annoyed that he has to jerk off. It feels like a chore to him now…though taking care of himself in any sense has since he became Spider-Man.

With a sleepy groan he drags himself up and to the bathroom. His mismatched socks are soft against the cool bathroom tiles where he turns on the shower. His muscles stretch when he tugs his white sweater over his head and tosses it onto the ground nearby, abs tensing and shoulders refusing to relax no matter how much stretching he did.

When the rest of his clothing join the heap on the floor he steps into the freezing cold shower, twitching at the icy droplets that felt like tiny icicles poking into his taut skin. 

He hoped the temperature would make the nuisance go down, but it raged on, standing proud at its full height. Miguel never thought he’d find himself glaring at his own dick, but here he was, horny and heavily pissed off. 

He reached down and tugged at his cock, rubbing his thumb over the angry red tip. He jerked profusely, yet all it did was leave him feeling unsatisfied and humiliated. 

“Fuck.” He cursed, washing his hand off before aggressively turning the knob to stop the flowing water. He tried to remember what he had to do today while pacing the bathroom, but he couldn’t focus with his erection clouding  his thoughts. Maybe if the blood would stay in his head…

He was an attractive guy, he knew that much. It would be easy to go out into the town and hook up with some stranger, but not so much so when he was in this constant sour mood. That sullen energy & resting bitch face paired with his looming height would scare any woman away.

Any sane woman.

You tied up the last of the criminals in your silky webs, smiling in victory. Unfortunately, the joy wasn’t long-lasting since as soon as you got home you felt boredom creeping up on you once again.

For weeks you’d been entertained by the intimidating founder of the spider society; Miguel O’Hara.You’d been bugging him for days on end, literally drooling at his feet and begging him to come back to your place.

He kicked you out multiple times, but like a cockroach you couldn’t be squashed—and neither could your need for him. You just couldn’t take a hint apparently. When he picked you up by the back of your suit and threw you back into your universe, all you focused on was how easily he carried you with just one of his big, veiny hands.

The way that suit hugged his defined chest so well, and his massive arms where you could see every vein…plus that prominent bulge? You were sunk.

He’d finally run out of patience for you when you ‘accidentally’ messed with the tech for his suit, almost making him go full commando in front of everyone in the spider society.(wouldn’t be the last time that happened…) He banned you for good, taking away your ‘multiversal gizmo’ without a second thought.

Your last words being ‘worth it!’ as you were flung back into your universe by the go-home-machine seemed like the icing on the cake to him despising you forever, but apparently that wasn’t the case because the man himself just appeared in your living room.

“Y/N.” He addressed nonchalantly.

You stared at him, jaw agape for a few moments before pinching yourself to see if you were dreaming. You had to be, he basically filed a restraining order against you. A really complicated, multiversal restraining order. Why  would he ever voluntarily come to you?

You couldn’t even respond since your throat felt so dry .. . It seemed your body had other ideas of where to soak.

“Why are you so obbsesed with me?” He suddenly asked, paying no mind to your awkward silence. 

“uhm-“

“I mean, you chased me around every day, eyed me down so intensively it was basically public sex and yet here you are, alone with me like you wanted, and now you’re speechless?” He stalked around your living room, circling you like a bird of prey.

You blushed up a storm and stood frozen in front of him, trying to discretely rub your thighs together.

He eyed you down, noticing your obvious ministrations but only chuckling. “Sometimes I had wished you were an actual spider so I could crush you under the soles of my shoes, but lately I’ve found myself feeling as horny and desperate as you.” He admitted with a smirk that revealed his sharpened fangs. 

That confession had your mind reeling to the point all you could muster up was; “I would’ve let you step on me regardless.”

His smirk grew and he started to approach you until his shadow covered you completely. You had to tilt your whole head up to look him in his glowing red eyes now—but you couldn’t handle making the eye contact anyway.

“You are just a small little thing, yet I didn’t expect you to be all bark no bite. All those filthy things you said lingered in my mind..don’t you want to take care of what you started?” He asked in a deliciously low voice. The almost mocking manner he said it in made you feel called out, and you looked down at your hands and picked at your nails to try and calm yourself.

A clawed finger tilted your head up by the chin and forced you to look into his eyes. How could you forget—in all your time spent basically stalking him you noticed how he never broke eye contact with anyone that he was speaking to. It was both exhilarating and intimidating to see, and you felt that full force while finally being on the receiving end of it. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you, arañita.” He ordered, and it sent tingles shooting up your spine.

You swore you heard your neck crack from how fast you looked up at him. He looked predatory staring down at you like that, eyes gleaming in the sunlight. “So? Will you finish what you started muñeca?” He asked, as if it was even a question to you.

“Fuck yes.” You agreed without missing a beat, making him chuckle darkly. “Needy thing.”

Before your mind could catch up you were suddenly being lifted by him and thrown on his shoulder with ease. He walked through the halls of your cozy apartment and waltzed into your bedroom without even searching for it, carelessly throwing you onto the bed.

You landed with a bounce on the soft comforter, feeling even smaller now with him standing above you. “Wha- how do you know where my bedroom is?” You asked when your brain finally decided to have a rational thought. 

“I’ve done my research—wanted to make sure you weren’t a spy. It was a waste of time, really, you’re just a horny stalker.” He shrugged.

You stared at him with an offended expression (tho it was 100% true) and went to argue until your lips were suddenly sealed by sticky red webs.

 “On your back.” He ordered. 

You crossed your arms at him first until he repeated the command in a low, dangerous voice. “Now.” Any defiance you had pretended to have quickly left your body and you laid down flat on the silk sheets.

He stalked over to you, all big and menacing as always. He leaned over you and forced your wrists together, twirling more glowing silk around them until they were bound above your head. 

He smirked down at you, leaning in to pepper kisses all over your neck. He sucked dark hickeys onto the sensitive skin of your throat, enjoying your muffled moans. While before he found your voice excruciating—he was now desperate to hear it crying out his name.

He stripped the webs off your mouth and you whined at the pain. The feeling resembled a bandaid being ripped off a fresh cut. He cooed pitifully above you and leaned in, whispering “Pobre araña, why don’t I kiss it better?” 

You nodded desperately until his lips met yours with a slight sting. He growled into your mouth, swirling his tongue around yours and exploring your mouth until you were squirming. He nibbled on your bottom lip, sharp canines threatening to break the skin. He pushed his muscled thigh between your legs and pressed down on your clit with his knee, the pressure making you moan under him. Your sweet sounds drove him wild, and he couldn’t help but bite down lightly on your lip until tiny droplets of blood dripped onto his tongue.

He groaned at the taste, his animalistic split-DNA going wild. When he pulled back—lips reddened, hair tussled and fallen slightly in front of his face— you couldn’t help but stare. His face looked so much more chiseled up close, cheekbones perfectly defined and a jawline sharper than the claws currently resting on your hips. 

His toned chest rose up and down steadily while he regained his breath, the familiar spider symbol on his suit growing bigger then smaller with each rise of his lungs like it was breathing. 

“Let’s take care of these, Cariño.” He addressed your clothing as if it were nothing but a nuisance for him before slicing your shirt right off you. He did this with ease, big claws moving onto your bottoms and clawing those off as well.

“Hey! Those were nice.” You pouted, though apparently he didn’t appreciate that comment because you were now being tied up even worse than before. Webs spewed from his wrist and circled your body like serpents, tying around your waist, arms, and thighs. “Don’t be a brat.” He ordered, webs tightening in warning. Once satisfied, he admired the way they looked pulled taut against your soft skin. “Red looks lovely on you, amor.” He praised, a quick switch from his previous comment.

He lifted you and reached behind your back, unclasping your bra with one hand. He threw it onto the ground somewhere with your torn up clothes, focusing his attention on your soft tits.

He hummed in content, playing with your nipples and letting his webs circle around the soft flesh of your breasts. He licked and sucked at one while tugging on the other, making you moan and squirm under him.

“Fuck Miguel- ah! more!” You whined desperately, coaxing a chuckle out of the behemoth. 

“Such a desperate slut.” He tutted, sucking marks all over your chest to match your throat. He kissed over the already forming hickeys, grazing his teeth dangerously close to your jugular. This man was massive, and made of pure muscle like a Greek god. He could easily hold you down without the help of his webs, but he wanted to focus full attention on you. 

He finally moved down to where you needed him most, going to rip your panties straight off you before you rudely slammed your thighs shut. “You take off your suit first….” You whined, embarrassed at being nearly completely nude before him while he was still covered. He was genuinely offended by this, feeling like he’d just had a door slammed on his face, yet he grumbled and messed around with his watch until the hologram started to dissipate.

Your jaw dropped wider and wider the more you took him in. The man resembled a skillfully carved statue belonging to Olympus itself. His biceps and abs were enough to challenge even Ares himself. Your eyes trailed lower and lower, leisurely mapping him out until your eyes locked on the weapon between his legs.

His dick stood loud and proud against his toned stomach, and it was massive. The man is 6,9, you knew he’d be big, but this thing was around 9 inches and looked like it could rip you in half. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from it even if you tried—I mean—the thing was basically introducing itself to you. We’re talking hello, how are you and goodbye.

Miguel basked in your ogling, his ego swelling more than it already had since he first noticed your obsession with him.

You finally snapped out of your trance when he bent down and slipped off your soaked panties, kissing up your leg as he did so. You spread both your legs for him and he took that as an invitation to lean in and lick a stripe up your wet cunt. You jumped, not expecting him to get into it so quickly, but you definitely didn’t complain.

He prodded a finger at your hole and pushed it in slowly, holding your hips down with his free hand. He made sure to be mindful of the claws adorning his fingertips since they wouldn’t go back down thanks to his clouded mind. The thick digit went in without much resistance thanks to how wet you were, until he pushed in a second and started scissoring them. 

You moaned and whimpered at the stretch, two of his thick fingers the size of nearly four of yours. He pumped them in and out quickly, the slick sounds your pretty hole made for him music to his ears. Your slick dripped down his ring and middle fingers that he was ruthlessly pumping inside you and dribbled down his veiny forearm.

He massaged your walls and pushed against them, scissoring his fingers to stretch you as much as possible. He couldn’t hit your g-spot thanks to his clawed fingertips, so he sucked at your clit to fill that extra stimulation until your head was rolling back. 

Something circled your waist and you figured it was his arm until you looked back down to see more webs. You would wriggle far too much without them, and he needed his other hand to spread your folds to drag a mix of his salvia and your slick around your twitching clit. You mewled at the overwhelming stimulation, bucking onto his face while he had a full on make out sesh with your pussy.

Only when he finally sunk four fingers into you and you were basically on the brink of tears with need did he pull away. Not without blowing on your sensitive clit, of course, just to see you twitch and squirm under the unrelenting grasp of his webs.

He stood up with a playful smile, freeing you from some of the webs just to pull you to the edge of the bed. Your ass met his pelvis with a slap when he yanked you by the ankle that quickly locked around his waist. He chuckled out something in Spanish that you didn’t understand, maybe along the lines of “Qué bonita putita…”. You didn’t bother to question it when he started to grind his rock hard dick on your drooling pussy, getting him all nice and wet to push into you. 

Only when he was coated completely in your essence did he listen to your pleas and finally line his fat tip up at your hole. Even with the all the stretching, your poor cunt had to stretch to accommodate the swollen red tip. His pre-cum mixed with your juices when it finally popped in after some resistance, and he groaned at the warm feeling.

“So fucking tight, your poor pussy can’t take it, hm? You were so confident when you were begging for it like a desperate whore.” He growled, degradation making you clench Impossibly tighter around his head until he had to bite back a groan.

“Please Mig, I can take it.” You begged, rutting your hips onto him and trying to coax him deeper until he swiftly grabbed your waist. His claws dug into your skin, threatening to break through. He pulled back and you immediately assumed he was going to tease you again for being desperate. 

Straight away you whined out apologies, stumbling over your words and pleas until he suddenly slammed back inside you, cramming 5 of his solid inches into your hole. You screamed, tears brimming on your waterline at the stretch. Your back arched off the bed and you squirmed away from the sting until he pulled back and rutted back in again, almost as if testing the waters.

With every drag of his hips his cock slowly got deeper into you until he was bottomed out completely. His tip kissed against your cervix and you looked down, amazed and horrified to see him crammed inside you so snugly. He gave you a moment to compose yourself—preoccupied on the bulge in your lower stomach. 

“My good girl, fitting around me so perfectly. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” He teased, dick twitching at the fucked out moan you gave in response.

It definitely was hard, yet his dick was harder. You could feel every single vein and ridge pressing into you, rubbing against your gummy walls in a way that left you drooling. You suddenly understood why he’d prepped you for so long. It wasn’t just to tease you, this just was not an easy thing to take. 

“Move,” you pleaded, correcting youself when he raised an eyebrow, “please.”

He hummed, palming at the fat of your hips to see the way your skin sunk under his touch. “I don’t know Cariño…do you really deserve this dick?” 

You gave him your best “are you for real?” face. This man was not about to make you beg when he was the one to randomly show up in your home. You’d been begging on your knees for him for months, and now he chooses to acknowledge it?

You made it your personal mission to go against everything he’s ever ordered from you, and the grind never does stop, does it?

“Like you deserve to kiss my ass?” You jest without hesitation. 

You can see the way his whole face stretches; clearly dumbfounded at your response before he’s able to compose himself. With your cunt wrapped around him so tight and warm like that, it’s easy to forget the pretty spider underneath him is a little rascal.

“You were just whining a second ago, don’t try that,” He warned. “You’ve been begging for it for months, practically humping my leg in front of the entire Arachno-Humanoid-Poly-Universe.” 

You groaned at his insistence on calling it that, even while balls deep inside you. “I didn’t sign up to fuck a geek,” you mutter.

“With the way you approached me I’m sure you’d fuck just about anyone, puta.”

You wanted to be insulted, but your words caught in your throat when he leaned close to you to whisper right into your ear; “Quit acting like you had any dignity in the first place and beg.”

His warm breath on your nape left you shivering. Miguel wasn’t human—not completely. With DNA mixed with a spiders, he was a predator; one ready to devour you whole.

It wasn’t a surprise to anyone really when you gradually let quiet pleas spill from your mouth. Miguel had half the mind to make you speak up, but he was loosing his thin amount of patience as is. With a satisfied click of his tongue, he pulled back until his flushed head was right at your entrance “see, was that so hard?”

You knew better than to try and answer at this point when he rammed his cock back into you. Huge hands gripped your thighs and pushed your legs into your chest while he bullied his dick further and further into your cunt. 

Your pussy was embarrassingly loud for him, squelching with each brutal thrust of his hips. His muscled thighs were tense with the pure strength he put into slamming into you—beating your sensitive pussy in until it memorized his shape for life. 

“Mig- ah! Holyfuck!” You screamed, draping your arms over his shoulders and scratching at his back like a cat post.

“Go on princesa, mark me up.” He encouraged and got a better grip on your thighs, pushing your legs out to a full spread. He had you displayed like a dinner feast and bent you like a lawn chair with your lower half on his toned chest. He was actually impressed at your flexibility, yet like always he chose the worst way to phrase it.

“I’m shocked, I never expected you to do any real training.” 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s what you’ve been wanting, is it not?” He gloated with such a shit-eating expression that you just had to wipe off his face. He sunk deeper into you when you pulled him in for a kiss and it had you clenching around him.

His thrusts got more erratic until your mind was clouded with only the sounds of his dick disappearing into your cunt. His hands were dragging you back onto him by the hips at the same time, so you could feel him bumping against your cervix with each thrust.

You were too fucked out to say anything other than broken moans and mewls of his name, and he wasn’t too far off.

“So pretty Cariño,” he groaned, “all for me? mierda- yeah, all for me.”

A string of loud mewls along with shameless moans poured out of your bruised lips in response. He pounded your pussy with so much vigour that you edged forward on the ruffled mattress with each rough thrust.

He massaged your throbbing clit between his fingers, laughing at the way they kept slipping around from how much of your own arousal was dripping down your cunt. Heavy balls slapping against your soft skin filled your ears when you felt that coil in your stomach start to snap.

“Pussys gripping me like a fucking vice- you gonna cum for me?” he teased, “look baby- look at how well this sweet little pussys taking me.”

He took your hand and lead it down until it was tracing the prominent bump in your stomach - You could feel every brutal thrust and see the way he ravaged your insides. You pressed down on it, getting impossibly tighter around him and the broken moan he let out was what got you.

He quickly tore a mind-numbing orgasm out of you - thick cockhead still splitting you open while he worked your clit. You soaked his cock and squeezed against it, shaking and crying under him until you could barely take it anymore. 

He smiled in pride, sharp fangs showing and making him resemble the waiting mouth of a shark. “Such a good fucking girl, coming all over me like that. Look at the mess you’ve made,” he hummed, observing the noticeable white ring you left around the base of his cock. 

His thrusts stuttered before stilling completely inside you. He made a noise akin to an animal before spilling his hot cum inside your welcoming heat with a shudder and a broken moan.

“Mfhm- mierda.. .” He cursed, his warmth filling you up so much it started to spill out.

You felt like a rag doll under him, half-asleep and smiling dumbly up at him. He chuckled and admired one last time how pretty you looked in his glowing red webs, wrapped around you like his own custom lingerie. 

He sliced them off you and smiled warmly when you raised your arms out to him. He leaned in to let you wrap your arms around his massive shoulders with your legs now wrapping around his waist.

He picked you up with you curled into him like a koala - the warm sensation of his cum dripping down your connected bodies grounding you while he walked to your bathroom. 

He pressed soft kisses to your marked up-neck while he ran a warm bath, rubbing at the indents his claws subconsciously left on your hips. 

You didn’t remember exactly when you fell asleep; somewhere between when his large hands washed the cum off your skin or when he gently laid you down on your fresh bedsheets. 

All you knew was that you woke up to the smell of clean laundry and noticed snacks and a water bottle left on your nightstand. There was a note too that you had to reach over to grab. His handwriting was smudged but fancy, and it was so adorably him that it left you smiling ear to ear. 

“Had to leave early. Meet me in my office tomorrow and we’ll discuss how you’ll be living in my universe from now on ,seeing as how you’re now mine, mi vida.” 

. . .

[sheeple]

Miracles don't exist | 11: Home not so sweet home

Genre(s): Riddle!reader / Slytherin!reader / kinda slowburn / little happy moments Fandom(s): Harry Potter Pairing(s): Theodore Nott x Reader / Harry Potter x Riddle!reader Summary: Being the Dark Lord's daughter and raised under the strict supervision of the Malfoy's is no easy life. Especially if you start crushing on your father's arch-nemesis, Harry Potter. And that while being engaged to one of his follower’s sons. Warning(s): Moldy Voldy [Masterlist] [Mini masterlist] [Playlist]

The sun is shining brightly with not a cloud in the sky. A soft breeze sways the leaves on the trees which tower over the manor. And despite that sunny and happy weather outside, you feel dreaded entering the house.

The pointed roofs and gothic architecture never looked so menacing as now. The perfectly manicured lawn looks like it has thorns and skulls as flowers while the white peacock in the distance looks like an omen of death.

Both you and your cousin stand at the end of the long driveway, your luggage floating towards the front door. Aunt Cissy motions for the two of you to hurry up. 

Glancing at each other, Draco gives your wrist a reassuring squeeze before marching up the gravel path. You linger for a while longer until you can't.

It's quiet when you enter the manor. More than usual. All sounds, even those from outside, seem to have disappeared. No creaking of the house, ticking of clocks, nothing.

Your aunt turns to you, a sorrowful look on her face. "The Dark Lord is expecting you in the library."

You want to shake your head. Scream, cry, yell that you don't want to see him. You're scared. So fucking scared to meet him. But, you don't have a choice.

With a meek nod, you turn on your heels and make your way towards the library. You ignore Draco's shaken look as his mother hugs him and leads him to the other side of the house.

The floorboards under your feet creak as you stand in front of the double doors of the library. You raise your fist but before your knuckles make contact with the wood, the doors swing open.

He stands in front of the large windows that oversee a part of the gardens, his back turned to the door and his hands are clasped behind his back. He is almost as pale as a sheet, blue veins running over his bald head.

When he turns around, you have to bite back the gasp of horror you want to let out. His face can only be described as snake-like. Two slits are where a nose should be and icy blue eyes set in a too-pale face. 

He is nothing as you imagined. You once or twice have searched up the name Riddle in the school records to look at the picture of all the prefects. At that time, Tom Marvolo Riddle was a handsome seventh-year boy. Dark hair, high cheekbones, and a proud look on his face.

Tom Marvolo Riddle is obviously gone and in his place is Lord Voldemort.

You don't know whether to bow or nod, so you look at the ground once he catches you study him.

"My Heir." His voice is breathy, almost whisper-like. He opens his arms, "come here."

Your feet move with a mind of their own. You scale the size of the room and stop in front of the imposing figure. He wraps his arms lofty around you. A chill spreads through your body as a cold hand presses against your back.

Taking a step back, you try to even your breathing. "My Lord." The title comes out in a whisper. You're utterly terrified of what this man will do, will say.

He tsks disapprovingly. "When we are in company of each other, you may call me Father, my Heir."

"Yes... Father."

Voldemort nods approvingly. He studies you once again, his icy eyes trailing every inch of your face and hair. "I've been told you are sorted into Slytherin. Naturally."

You nod. "Yes, Father." You don't know what else to say. But it seems like he is expecting more. "My studies are going well. I am staying out of trouble and keep with our own kind."

It's the safe answer, one you know satisfies him. And it does. He dismisses you with a wave of his hand and you don't know how quickly you have to get out of the library. 

When you enter your bedroom, Draco is already sitting on your bed, an anxious look on his face. "Is it really him?", he asks in a whisper and you nod.

You go sit down next to your cousin. The two of you sit in silence for a while, until Draco opens his mouth. "How is he?"

"Terrifying", you admit. "You feel his power when you are in the room with him."

"Mother says he can read minds."

You look at him with wide eyes. That can't be true... right? It means that even our thoughts aren't safe.

"Well... Then we have to watch out for what we think."

Draco nods and you sit in silence once again. You lean over and lay your head on his shoulder. Draco has never been a big fan of being touched — it may come from being barely touched as a child by his parents — but for you, he makes an exception. 

"Everything is going to change from now on, isn't it?"

He hums sadly. "I'm afraid so."

You spend the rest of the day cooped up in your room, unpacking your school trunk and dusting your room. Even though Aunt Cissy makes the house elves clean your room regularly, it's always nice to do a once-over.

Around dinner time is a knock on your door and you're being called to dinner. Nervously, you make your way towards the formal dining room. It's tradition to eat there when you and Draco have returned from your year at Hogwarts.

Entering the room, you see your aunt and uncle — both looking rather unwell — and your cousin sitting at one end of the table and Voldemort sitting at the head on the other side. 

"My Lord", you greet your father with a polite nod. Unsure of where to sit, you move to sit next to Draco. But the chair next to Voldemort gets pushed back by magic and you get the hint.

With uncertain steps, you go and sit to him. Draco and you make eye contact but remain silent. 

The majority of dinner is spent in silence. You do not dare to speak out loud and it seems like the Dark Lord likes the tense silence his presence brings. It's only when the desert is brought that he speaks.

"It seems you are very popular at school, my Heir. Not a full day at home and you already received a letter." Voldemort holds up a wax-sealed envelope.

He watches how you take it and break the seal. Unfolding the envelope, you start to read. It's a rather short letter really.

Do you want to hang out sometime? It's what friends do, you know. We could meet up in two weeks. That's just enough time to miss me.

— Theo

You close your eyes. Stupid stupid boy Theodore Nott. You've hoped to keep him safe from your father a while longer, at least until the end of the summer break or Christmas or whatever. But as Voldemort snatches the letter out of your hands and reads it over, one of his non-existent eyebrows arches up.

"Theo? Who is this Theo?"

You look down at the pie in front of you. "Theodore Nott, my Lord. We've ehrm... We've-" You look for help from your aunt, but her gaze is trained on the table. "We've been introduced last summer and started hanging out this year."

Voldemort looks over at your uncle. "Is this true, Lucius?" The name of your uncle is almost a hiss.

Uncle Lucius gulps before shakily raising his gaze. "Ye-yes, my Lord. We thought the you-young Nott boy would be an excellent match... f-for your daughter... my Lord."

Voldemort hums, dropping the letter next to your plate. "Very well." And nothing more is said about Theodore or the rest of the dinner.

Once you are excused, you rush towards your bedroom to write Theo back. But when you swing open your door, you almost shriek.

A three-metre snake lays on your bed, eyes trained on you. You've heard whisper all day long, but you just chalked it up to Voldemort residing in the manor.

Carefully stepping into the room, you know exactly who this is. Clearing your throat, you open your mouth. "Hello, Nagini", you say in the strange whispers and hisses of Parsletongue.

"Hello, my Heir", the snake hisses softly, sliding off your bed. She slithers out of your room. A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of her smooth scales gliding against your ankle.

Sitting down at your desk, you pull out a piece of paper and start to write to Theo.

Sure, we can do that. Do you have something in mind or do you just want to walk around and see what happens? I'm down for whatever.

I suggest we meet up on Tuesday in two weeks. If that's alright with you.

— (Y/n)

Taglist (bold means I couldn’t tag you): @the0doreslover @lqndkxlmqma @st4rrry @choppedpartymuffinwinner @ledtassoo @literallyobsessed @lestat-whore​ @vanishingcherry @harrysnovia @pietrobae @ireallywannasleep127 @yeolsbubbles

[ravennaortiz]

Summary: Quick glimpses of how Tig navigated becoming a widow and single father to his daughter OC Raven Trager.

As always my stories are 18+.

General Tag List: @keyweegirlie @hatersaremymotivators

Sons Only Tag List: @youngadult9016

Tig Tag List: @kikijackson-blog

How It Started

Tig stood staring down at the bullet riddled body of his beautiful wife. He willed her to take a breath, open her eyes, do something as the tears continued to slip from his icy blue eyes. His knees buckled and anguished sobs spilled from his chest. How could this have happened? How could one of his brothers betray him like this?

Tig had no idea how much time had passed. He had moved from the floor to the table. Cradling his wife to him. The chill didn't bother him and he tried to ignore how her body was now hard and stiff when it used to soft and giving to his touch. Tig shook off the hands that touched his shoulder.

"Tig. Your daughter still needs you. Melanie would want you to put your attention onto Raven." murmured Chibs as he grabbed his friends arm again. This time firmly pulling him off the table and back onto his feet. "The wrong parent was killed man. It should be me on this table." sobbed Tig as he shook his head. "How do I tell my daughter her mommy got killed because daddy was an asshole to a friend?"

Chibs pulled Tig into his arms. Letting the other man get his emotions out before speaking. "She will understand when she is older. She is too young for any of this to make sense. Don't beat yourself up Tig.

6 years later

"Alright Dad. She has to walk by herself from here" stated the teacher as she held out her hand to Raven. Tig let out a nervous chuckle as he knelt next to his daughter. "Don't know whose more nervous her or me" he stated as he ruffled Ravens long black hair making her giggle even as tears slipped down her cheeks.

"It will get easier I promise" soothed the teacher as she sent him a warm smile and took Ravens hand.

"Bye bye Daddy" stated Raven after she kissed his cheek and let the teacher lead her into the school.

Tig was too choked up to reply so he gave her a wave before turning and wiping at his eyes. He had cried more since becoming a father than he had the rest of his life. He always thought he would want a son but he wouldn't change having a sweet little girl for the world.

5 years later

Tig was frantically pacing his kitchen, hands in his curly hair as he waited for Gemma to arrive. How could he have been so stupid? So unprepared for this? Melanie would have had all the supplies Raven would need and would have had the womanhood talk with her already. How could he have fucked up this so badly?

He was a failure as a husband and now a failure as a dad. Tig was so deep in his thoughts he hadn't heard the back door open or Gemma greet him.

"Tiggy?" repeated Gemma as she stood with bags and cleaning supplies. "What's wrong?"

I failed her" stated Tig as he started to tear up. "The most important day of a little girls life when she becomes a woman and I fucked it up" he continued as he sat in a chair resting his head on the table.

Gemma rolled her eyes before moving out of the kitchen. "Its a period Tig. Don't be so dramatic"

3 years later

"Who was that?" asked Tig as he handed his daughter a helmet as she got on his bike. "Just a friend" replied Raven trying to hide a smile as the young boy waved at her as they pulled out of the school parking lot.

Tig frowned. He knew the day would come but it felt too soon. He wanted his sweet little girl to stick to baby dolls and tea parties forever. Never thinking of boys and the other things that came with them.

"Well better stick to just friends. You are not allowed to date until you are fifty at least" stated Tig firmly.

Raven rolled her eyes before replying. Purposefully riling her dad up was becoming her favorite pastime. "What if it is Jax or Opie? Can I get an exception for them?

Tig gritted his teeth. "Too old for you. Not another word on the matter" he practically growled as they pulled into the lot at TM.

2 years later

"I hate you!" screamed Raven as her hand caught Tig's cheek, the force turning his whole head to the side. Before Tig could reply Raven was out the front door, the slam echoing through the house.

Tig sighed in defeat as he turned to the barely clothed woman in his living room. "You should go"

The woman nodded meekly before pulling her dress back on and making her way quietly out of the house.

Hours passed as Tig searched for Raven. It was storming and late. He was worried she would do something stupid. He was getting ready to call Clay and have him assemble the club when his phone dinged.

Juice: Hey. Just wanted to let you know Raven showed up here. I can bring her to TM with me in the morning. That cool with you?

Tig: That is fine. Thanks man. Sorry.

Juice: No worries.

Tig sighed as he made his way back home. He tried to remind himself this would pass like Gemma had told him. All teenage girls go through a hate my dad phase.

1 year later

"What do you think Gem?" inquired Tig as he sat at Gemma's kitchen table his hands wrapped around a mug of tea.

"Some space may do you both some good. She would be close and you know she would be protected" replied Gemma as she sat across from him. Her heart ached for Tig. She knew his relationship with Raven was important to him and that he had always strived to be a great father. The last year had taken its toll on the two.

"Juice would not make a move on her. They are just friends and she ends up at his house anyway after ya'll fight. Might as well let her move in" continued Gemma with a shrug of her shoulders.

Tig nodded. A change would be for the best and hopefully it would let him repair his relationship with Raven. Even if it meant she no longer lived with him.

Return to Series Masterlist

[galactica7071]

the space jigen ramblings part 1

okay. you all know this guy, right

☝️that guy

his name's daisuke jigen. he's cool

but THIS guy👇

is ALSO named daisuke jigen. and he's the other jigen's great-great-grandson from this silly little (cancelled) spinoff series called lupin the 8th

I'm not anywhere near normal about him. tread carefully.

the family tree✨ (sort of)

present day daisuke jigen -> his daughter kyoko -> daisuke numba 2 -> his daughter akane -> daisuke numba 3

yeah yeah space jigen is the 5th (or maybe 6th? idk my various first and second-hand sources all switch between the two a bit) of his name in canon but canon doesn't exist so he's jigen the 3rd. haha get it. like lu-

daisuke was a well-liked name in this family I guess. the very wonderful and talented author203's work with jigen over on ao3 made me physically unable to imagine him with a son so bam!!💥 he had a daughter. and then jigen #2 had one too. and #3 will too but shhhh that's for later

I don't have any big ideas for what the intermediate generations look(ed) like yet (except kyoko being a redhead) but it'd be funny if jigen #2 looked nothing like og jigen and then #3 ended up being. literally exactly like him. genetics are weird as fuck so it could happen

thighs ❌ ass ❌ personality ✅

theres not much to space jigen in canon from what I can tell. if I had to make a comparison tho he's like cagliostro jigen (- me, who hasn't seen it yet), relatively chill with a heart of gold but kind of a gremlin too. but here's what I think makes him tick :)

he's japanese-italian and an earth-born

dad is a lunar soldier and mom is a biologist (this man got NONE of mama's brains though lmao)

space jigen is such a softie on the inside. so sentimental, so empathetic, and always looking out for those he cares about

really wishes he were a family man <3

5'10" king with the miyazaki-patented snatched waist

mom taught him how to shoot, surprisingly (or unsurprisingly. she is related to the daisuke jigen so)

knew lupin since they were kids. not because their parents introduced them or anything, but because they just so happened to be in the same class and immediately hit it off. these two losers only grew closer as they grew up together and then lupin was like "hey you wanna solve crimes together" and jigen was like "fuck it sure" yadda yadda time is a flat circle

definitely autistic and probably has adhd and is very undiagnosed (the adhd is me projecting)

possibly even more of a romantic than og jigen. he's bi + demisexual. yes, he has had many failed romances of his own except one but shhhh that doesn't matter yet, and no, he hasn't learned from any of his mistakes

kind of a selfish brat at times. if you go out to eat with him and order an appetizer, he WILL eat all the onion rings if no one stops him

he has a huuuuge sweet tooth. you thought the lollipops were an oral fixation? well they are but this guy is a sugar fiend. asks if he can have a bite of your dessert when he's already devoured his and licked the plate clean 20 seconds after getting his grubby hands on it, sugar fiend. do not tell him you have chocolate ice cream in the fridge when you have him over because it will be gone by tomorrow morning. yes, it has bitten him in the ass once or twice

complainmaxxing is his favorite pastime. and puzzles! theres always at least one 1000 piece jigsaw out somewhere in the arsene and co headquarters that he swears he's working on and that no one can put away because he "already spent so friggin' long on it" and he's "just been too busy to work on it" (jigen we haven't had a new case in weeks)

likes space westerns. romcoms are a guilty pleasure (don't let the guys find out)

has a soft spot for working group dogs. why? they're strong, loyal, and love unconditionally

ghosts freak him out. bro can't even play luigi's mansion with the lights off

firearms special interest got genetically transferred to him. but this is the future so he's into laser rifles and portal guns and shit. armed spacecraft too

taught lupin how to fight for realsies

where'd he learn to fight? dad made him do karate as a kid. he preferred practicing at the shooting range

banned from the local laser tag arena for being too good. shooting at each other out in the vacuum of space is funner anyway

stubborn just like his peepaw. he complains a lot but if it directly affects him he is eerily silent. toxic masculinity ftw‼️

I try to imagine him as being like og jigen but not as depressed/traumatized to try and fit in line with the ✨family friendliness✨ of viii, so he's a little more emotionally available and whatnot. look at those kind eyes. such a sweetie pie

[lostonehero]

What comes next

Mechs agnst! Mechs agnst! Mechs agnst!

Jonny groaned and woke up to familair ticking in his chest. Why did he wake up? Why does he still have this damn heart? The room held a soft scent of something sweet, and it reminded him of when he was a boy. He sat up, letting an old tapestry blanket fall to his lap. It's funny that looked like the same one he had as a kid.

He hopped down from his bed, confused. The room was too familiar, like a replica of his childhood bedroom. That was impossible. After he turned 18 doing dirty work, his father burned the damn place down. He was 25 when Carmillia put this heart in his chest. So why did he feel so small? He knew he was short, and they never bothered him, but this was different.

He looked down at himself with another layer of confusion. He hasn't worn this type of clothes since he was in New Texas. His tail twitched as he went to the dressor. All of the clothes had a hem open for his tail. They were also all handmade. He made his own clothes, yes, but these were... he rubbed his thumb over the stitching. Something wet dripped from his face before he realized he was crying. His mother used this type of stitching he could never emulate it and settled on his own style, which his mother loved.

He shouldn't have a mechanical heart. He shouldn't be back here. He's supposed to be dead.

A loud slam against his door makes Jonny jump out of his thoughts. A male voice slurred on the other side. "Get your fucking ass out of your room you lazy fuck. Your mother is outside. Make yourself useful."

Jonny could feel a chill down his spine. This was hell, the one Tim talked about. It had to be. It's not like he didn't deserve this, but his father, really? He throws on something quickly and rushes out of his room, barely glimpsing his father with a bottle in hand. He stumbles and nearly falls on his face before someone catches him from tumbling into the sand.

"My little sand skipper, you know better than to rush out even with your father in a mood." The woman, Jonny's mother, was blurry until his eyes adjusted.

Jonny could feel tears prick the corners of his eyes, and he reached out and pulled her into a tight hug.

"Hey, sand skipper." Jonny's mother pauses and pulls Jonny away to crouch down. "Hey, I know growing up is hard, but I didn't think you would be crying. This isn't your first hunt."

"N-no." Jonny freezes at high pitched his voice sounded as he placed a hand on his throat. "This isn't... it can't be right." He began to shake. "I'm supposed to be dead in hell, not..... not... you aren't supposed to be here."

"Jonny." Jonny's mother cups his face. "Jonny, what are you talking about? Did you have a bad dream?"

"Valerie you cunt you're making him soft." Jonny's father growled.

Valerie scowls and picks up Jonny. "Oh, shut up. Come on, Sand Skipper." She shoots in the air with her free hand a bird like creature falls to the ground. "Eat that you fucking cunt."

Jonny's father growls but knows better than to argue.

.....

Valerie sighs as she places her son down on a rock by a few cactuses far enough away from their home. "Jonny, what happened?"

Jonny immediately jumps back into her arms. "You have to promise that this is real. I'm supposed to be dead. My heart shouldn't be a machine when I'm this young. The ticking w-wont stops."

Valerie places her ear against her son's chest and pauses, and a metronome tick is heard. She takes a breath and sighs, sitting down and putting Jonny in her lap. "There's this doctor edge of town."

"No! No! NO!" Jonny whimpers as he clings tighter to his mother.

Valerie hugs her son from behind. "Jonny, breathe for me." She pauses and sighs. "I need you to trust me. I won't let her take you. I will protect you till my final breath."

Jonny started to cry again, muffled by his mother's clothes.

Valerie waits for her son to stop before talking again. "Jonny, when did this doctor first appear?"

"I was... I..." Jonny whips his head up. "I'm... no, it's too early." He leans his head against his mother's chest and hears something that isn't possible.

Valerie leans back against the rock. "Jonny, I was her first victim. I may have been enjoying watching you grow up again, but I knew it would be a matter of time when you would return. The promise of a final death is just out of reach."

"You... did you..." Jonny frowns. "Did you try to find me?"

Valerie chuckles. "Oh, I tracked you to every seedy bar, planet, and whatever you managed to get into. I was always a step behind, though. Ran into an inspector who claims to know you guys, and I collected all of your music. Even kept your wanted posters."

"You... you..." Jonny sniffs. "Can we pretend some more?"

"No, but I would happily spend as long as you want here, but if you don't kill him, I will." Valerie chuckles as Jonny smiles. She hands him a gun. "Come on, it's time to grab food for the day."

Jonny nods and wipes his eyes. "Of course. Thank you mom."

.......

Tim woke to high-pitched screaming, which could only come from children. He made it a point to stay away from children after the war and join the mechs. He woke up, which again was weirder than the screaming. He went out in a blaze of glory, destroyed another moon, and crashed and suffocated. Why was he alive? He still had the mechanical eyes if the sharp vision and whirling noise were to go by anything. He stared through the ceiling to blue sky's with clouds, which confused him greater.

Tim gave a heavy sigh and rubbed his face and froze, where the fuck was his beard? There wasn't even any stubble it was smooth. He sat up, and the screaming got louder as the sound of footsteps ran away. His metal eyes were still here he could feel them. Where did they drop him off? The bed was soft, and the blankets had little cartoon... he knew this cartoon he had the same bedding when he was growing up until his sister spilled her nail polish all over it. Did Raphaella locl him in his memories? No, then he wouldn't have these mechanical eyes. This room looked identical to his childhood bedroom, even the two other beds for his brothers.

Tim sighed as he pushed himself out of bed and ran his hands through his.... did they fucking cut his hair too? He's going to skin Jonny when he sees him. The sound of feet and a deep yawn caught his attention as the door swung open.

"See! Someone stole Timmy's eyes!" A young boy pointed at him.

The other older boy pointed as well. "They replaced them! I told you."

The tired older man rubbed his eyes and looked at Tim, and he froze now wide awake. "Boys, wake your mother and get your sisters now." He stayed incredibly calm as boys nodded and ran off. "Hey Tim, are you ok?"

This couldn't be real his father died in an air raid before he signed up with Bertie. He was 21. 24, and nearly 25, when that doctor mechanized him. He stared down at his hands, which were way too small. Everything was so much bigger, like he shrunk. His brothers looked 13 and 12, which meant he was.... oh fuck no. He shook his head, feeling the oil drip from his eyes. His breath quickened, and that's the last thing he can remember before passing out.

......

"These machines have completely replaced his biological eyes. This technology is way more advanced than we have ever seen for a protestic." A hushed voice spoke over Tim.

"But how? We put him to bed, and he was fine. His brothers tried to wake him up as they always do, and then they just started to scream." A woman's voice spoke next. "Who would do this to a child he's 6 for God's sake."

"Ma'am I know you're scared, but we can't rule anything out. We have to wait for him to wake up to see if he's in pain." The male voice was soft.

Tim's eyes whirled as they let in light, and he saw a doctor and his mother. He looked down to see an iv in his arm and other wires connected to him. He huffed, making the two aware that he was awake. "Take them off!" He wanted to shout, but it came out as a whine. He hated how childish he sounded even though he was back being 6.

"Timothy! Are you ok? Does anything hurt? Did someone hurt you?" His mother fired off questions grabbing his hand.

Tim froze, anger melted away. That's his mother, a strong woman who went to his father's funeral and didn't shed a tear. She didn't even cry when his oldest brother came back in a box from the moon. She was his anchor, even in the worst of times. He hoped she got his letters while he was on the moon. He swallows. "I'm ok. Why would I be hurt?"

The woman relaxed and smiled. "That's good. You're being very brave. I know you don't like the doctors."

Tim reached out to grab her hand. "I missed you, mom. I missed you so much."

"Baby boy." Tim's mom smiles softly. "I promise I won't let anyone else hurt you."

........

"Why's your freak brother following you like a shadow?" A older kid scoffs. "Told you to leave the freak baby out of this."

Andrew huffs. "Mom won't let me go anywhere without the brat since his eyes. It's been a month the whole shock is over yaknow."

Tim sighs. He was only following them because he knew his brother stole his father's lighter, and he really wanted to set something on fire. Fuck he sounded like Ashes.

An older teen approached them. He wasn't human, obviously. His hair was moving on its own accord, his clothes were baggy, and his long tail twitched behind him. His ears were pointed, and so were his teeth. He has claws on his one hand. The other was metal. He had a faintly sickly sweet smell to him.

Tim gasps. He knows him by his arm alone, but before he can go his brother grabs him.

"Timmy, you can't just run to random strangers, let alone an alien. They have their own neighborhoods for a reason." Andrew frowns.

"Yeah the fuck you doing on this side of the street?" The other teen grabbed a rock.

Tim remembered something important. The common folk hated the non-human citizens. This was taught from a young age and unlearned when the war began. It didn't stop him from trying to tug himself away. "Let me go!"

"You should let him go." The older teen frowns. He hissed as the other kid threw a rock at him.

"So what you can eat him? Leave us alone you freak." The kid picked up more rocks.

Tim stopped and bit down on his brothers arm, making him let go, and he ran to the older teens' side. "Marius!" He grabs his metal arm.

Marius chuckles. "Hey, I didn't think you would be so small."

"First off fuck you." Tim huffs but smiles. "Second why is your hair pink?"

"I haven't reached adulthood where my hair picks a color to stay at. I have forgotten how moody it used to be. Anyway, Nastya found me and Ashes. We'll she found Aurora first and begged for them to take her back, but then she picked up Ashes and then they found me by accident. They were looking for Jonny testing out different time periods, but they were on my home planet, not his, which is weird they thought it was mine since it's neither an asteroid nor a dessert planet."

"H-hey, leave my brother alone!" Andrew shouts.

"I'm ok!" Tim huffs. "Where did they go?"

"Oh, they left me here and went looking for Ivy since Ashes just became an adult for their species, and Nastya was an adult. They didn't want me to be causing problems being a teenager, so they left me here to find you since Nastya doesn't know you." Marius pauses, and his hair seems to stiffen. "Fuck I hope Lyf doesn't find me like this. My body is changing a lot, and it's very weird."

Tim looks over to his brother and sighs, running over. "Meet my friend."

"Timmy, that's a dangerous alien." Andrew frowns.

Tim shakes his head and turns his little kid cuteness up to 11. "But he's nice, and he's gonna be a doctor. Come on, say hi!" He tugs on his older brothers arm who groans.

"Moms going to kill me." Andrew sighs his so-called friend already ran off. He walked over to Marius. "Hey, I'm Andrew, and apparently my brother likes you. Look, we don't want any trou- " He freezes as Marius holds out his metallic hand.

"I'm Marius it's a pleasure to meet you." Marius shakes Andrew's hand. "It's nice to meet Tim's family. I was worried he was just wandering about alone. He's too small for that."

Tim scoffs

Andrew smiles. "Yeah, he knows how to get into trouble. I'm stuck with babysitting duty because our sister is off at school, and dad took our other sister and brother for some grocery shopping."

"Yeah, I know my siblings can get overprotective. Just because either lost part of my arm doesn't mean I'm always getting into trouble." Marius sighs. "Like I can take care of myself. I know how to be on my own."

Andrew nods along. "You're right." He smiles. "You don't seem awful for an alien, and I guess Timmy likes you. Do you wanna play with my lighter?"

Marius's eyes sparkle. "Oh, that does sound like fun. You gotta teach me about earth stuff."

"Tell me about your planet, and it's a deal." Andrew smiles.

Marius nods and uses his tail to pick up Tim. "Come on, I got him so he won't slow us down."

"Oh, that's awesome." Andrew laughs as Tim pouts. "You have to show me what else you can do."

.......

"Andrew, you didn't tell me your new friend was... um..." Tim's mother was trying to find a polite way to state this. Her son's have been hanging out with this mysterious Marius for a few months now, and she finally got to meet him and his parent.

"What do you mean? My son's what?" The person who wasn't human and also couldn't tell if they were male or female. They were definitely a different species from Marius.

"I mean not to cause any offense, but I just didn't realize that he was um not human." Tim's mom sighs.

"So what if we aren't? Your boys seem fine with it." They roll their two pairs of eyes.

Marius shrugs, crouching down by Tim. "I didn't think you were that serious about the racism."

"I didn't know you were serious about being adopted. Is that why you don't know what your species is?" Tim hums as Marius nods. "Weird. Anyway, wanna leave before things get worse."

Marius nods and holds out his tail for Tim to grab. "It's nice to meet you, Miss. Stoker, we're going to go play. Hey Andrew! Are you coming?!"

Andrew rushed out past his mom. "Of course you even got little Timmy all set to go. See ya later, mom." The two teens run off while Tim is being carried.

They blink and look at Miss. Stoker. "I believe our boys decided for us."

Miss Stoker chuckles. "I suppose I can't argue if they're that happy."

"I have to ask." They pauses. "Is your little boy different? I mean the metal eyes. He's like my boy Marius, just woke up one day with a replaced part, and his personality changed like he was acting like a kid and not being a kid."

Miss Stoker frowns. "How about we discuss this over tea? Timothy did say he was a part of this group, the mechanisms, and that he shouldn't be alive. I assume from that look he wasn't making it up."

"He was not." They sigh.

........

"But your brother on the phone."

Andrew huffed and gave Tim the phone.

"Yes, mom." Tim steps back.

"Are you going to be honest with me?" Her tone didn't leave room for argument.

"I mean, I've already told you the truth." Tim sighs. "I can tell you how dad dies, and Andrew dies. Dunno about everyone else never returned after I blew up the moon."

"You were serious?"

"I mean, what would I gain from lying?" Tim sighs. "Mom, I love you guys, but I'm really shit at acting, and I haven't been a kid in a very long time. It's just that I wanted to enjoy having my family back for however long, that is."

"You sound so tired."

"I am." Tim frowns. "Mom, I love you, I love my family, but I don't think you'll like the man I become. I am."

"Timothy, I will love you regardless of what you've done." She sounded sincere.

Tim sniffs, getting close to crying. "M-mom."

"I love you, my baby boy." She pauses. "Please stay as long as you can."

"I'll try, I promise."

"And I want to meet all of your friends that you made family."

"Are you sure?" Tim smiles and wipes his face. "They can be a bit much."

"Yes, and I heard you git a husband."

Tim huffs. "I dunno how he views it, but I like to think we are. His name's Jonny. He is probably stuck on his planet asteroid."

"I can't wait to meet him. Be safe my baby boy and you better be home before sundown."

"Yes, mom. I love you." Tim hangs up.

Marius tilts his head. "Good talk?"

"Yeah, i feel better. The truth is out there." Tim smiles. "Come on, let's keep playing."

.......

Jonny walked through the metal halls. His mother's ship found them, and he found out his aunts controlled the ship. Well, they were dead but uploaded to the ship. They were nice, and he wasn't used to having family who was related to him and loved him like his mom. It was nice, and he knew where they were going first. He wanted to find Tim. Might as well introduce him to his family first, and maybe propose again. Granted, he just had to grow up again. Thanks to talking to Carmillia, he would stop aging when he was first mechanized. His mom then took care of her so she couldn't follow them.

"Little Jonny." Audrey huns appearing in front of him. She was the oldest looking out of his aunts.

"Hello, Auntie Audrey." Jonny smiles. "What's wrong?"

"There seems to be one inspector hailing our ship. Are you ok if your mother lets him on?"

Jonny nods. "Yeah, Lyf has the right to know what's going on. Besides, Marius would be heartbroken if he didn't know what he was getting into."

Jun appears next. She was missing her tail, and her skin was a bit darker. "Lyf is coming aboard. Shall I help you to him?"

"Juniper, Jonny is capable of exploring the ship himself." Audrey huffs. "We don't need to hold his hand."

Nina appears and just holds her hand out. Her horns are spotted. Jonny nods and follows her.

.....

Lyf jumps, spotting the boy who is supposedly Jonny. "What the fuck!"

"Inspector." Jonny narrows his gaze, maybe slightly embarrassed his voice hasn't dropped yet.

"What the fuck happened to you guys? You just vanished after DTTM, and your ship was just floating until a blue skinned woman appeared. She was really rude." Lyf pauses. "Seriously, what happened? Why are you tiny?"

Jonny huffs and crosses his arms. "Because I'm 13 first off secondly I have to age normally and I'll stop when I am the age I'm mechanized at. My heart is still a machine if you were curious."

Lyf frowns. "Wait, did this happen to all of you guys?"

Jonny shrugs. "We're on our way to earth to find Tim. You can join us if you're so inclined. Dunno, where your lover boy went, he doesn't recall much about his original planet."

"Is it possible to dock my ship in here?" Lyf turns to Valerie.

Valerie nods. "Nina, that's your thing. Have at it."

"Ooo, of course." Nina vanishes.

......

"Fuck I thought that was Aurora." Marius crosses his arms.

Tim raised his brow. "The ship is literally purple and way smaller than Aurora."

"Well, I'm sorry I haven't developed my ability to see colors yet." Marius rolls his eyes. "Also, I don't have your magic eyes."

"Seriously, man, what the hell are you?" Tim shakes his head and walks back to the picnic table. "It's not that far... ok, it is, but still."

Andrew raised a brow. "What are you doing your adult talk?"

"No, Tim just forgets his eyes can focus on objects impossibly far away and others can't." Marius snickers.

Tim huffs. "I can not wait till I tower over you, prick." He smiles softly now that the secret is out and his family accepts everything he feels comfortable. He can talk with his parents with ease and his sisters and hell he warned them about the future war and how to be safe.

"Yeah, pipsqueak, I don't buy that." Andrew ruffles Tim's short hair.

"And I can't wait till I can grow my hair back out." Tim crosses his arms and pouts.

"Um..." Samantha, Tim's eldest sister blinks and points. "That spaceship is getting too close."

Marius stares up. "They'll park in the empty field, not on us."

"They better." Tim's eyes whirl like he was rolling his eyes.

"Are these your friends?" Tim's father leans over.

Tim shakes his head. "Aurora isn't purple. They're silver also not that small."

"Could one of your friends have stolen a ship?" Marius's parent motions to the now parked craft.

"I wouldn't put it past them." Tim raised his brow. "You sure nobody answered the communicator?"

Marius holds it up. "Only Nastya and Ashes have them because they are still trying to find Ivy, and they only found Raphaella, who has locked herself in her lab."

"You have weird friends." Kenny raised his brow.

"Being normal is overrated." Tim chuckles.

"Oh Jolly Good!" A familiar voice interrupted the light banter between friends and family.

Andrew stares. "That's terrifying."

"Is that a living mannequin?" Samantha picked up Tim and hid him behind her.

Tim huffs. "That's just Toy Solider."

Marius already made his way closer. "Hello TS!"

"You Shrunk Like Jonny." TS continues to smile.

"I did not shrink." Jonny hops out. "I am merely in a younger body."

Marius chuckles. "You sound so weird."

"Fuck off." Jonny huffs rolling his eyes.

Tim wiggles out of his sister's hold. He runs as fast as his small legs can take him. "Jonny!"

Jonny stops taking one look at Tim before manically laughing. "Fuck me look at how tiny you are!" He continues to laugh before Tim punches him in the crotch and he goes down.

Tim scoffs. "To think I actually missed you asshole."

Valerie chuckles from the top of the stairs to the ship. "Jonny, I warned you to be nice."

"No, that was him being nice." Lyf pokes his head out.

"Inspector!" Marius waves frantically. "Inspector, it's yours truly."

Lyf pauses. "You're right. This is weird. Why is your hair blue?"

"Becauss it hasn't settled on a color yet." Marius smiles, and his hair waves.

"I don't know why I keep forgetting your hair is alive." Lyf pinches his brow. "I don't envy any of you."

"Don't say anything. You'll give your god ideas." Jonny chuckles getting up.

Lyf's eyes glow, and he shrinks to the same age as Tim as a rainbow light flashes around Jonny and Marius, and they also shrink down to age 6. He stares at his hands. "Jonny, I'm going to kill you."

Marius looks confused as he stares at himself. His hears seem massive for his small frame, his tail is being held like a security blanket, and his eyes seem to be a dazzling purple as if to warn he's poisonous. His hair is much longer, and silver is ready to attack. His teeth seem to be dripping a substance that was sickly sweet. He has talon scaled feet and a clawed right hand still with his mechanical arm just smaller. He tries to move towards Lyf, but he trips on his pants and falls on his face.

Jonny had little nubs of horns poking out from his forehead. His tail was keeping him upright. His ears were massive on his small frame and seemed to twitch at every noise. His teeth were small and razor sharp. The padding on his feet and hands seemed thicker than his adult self. He grabbed his tail like a security blanket and looked close to tears. "I... I....."

Tim hugs Jonny, and Valerie comes over and scoops the two up.

"This is why we don't tease the gods that exist." Valerie sighs and grabs Marius and Lyf as well and heads to the table.

........

Reborn Mechs chat

Marius Von Raum has added Jonny D'ville, Gunpowder Tim, Toy Solider, Lyfrassir Edda, and Valerie D'ville.

Jonny D'ville changed their name to Jonny

Gunpowder Tim changed their name to Tim

Lyfrassir Edda changed their name to Lyf

Toy Solider changed their name to TS

Valerie D'ville changed their name to Valerie

Marius Von Raum changed their name to Marius

Nastya: How the fuck did you find all of them? We left you on earth.

Ashes: Who the fuck is Valerie did you get hitched?

Jonny: that's fucking disgusting

Valerie: I'm Jonny's mother, the first mechanism, if you run into Carmillia tell her to fuck off she used our asteroid as a playground to make the mechanisms

Jonny: anyone has a problem they go through me

Nastya: that makes a lot of sense actually

Nastya: welcome

Valerie: thank you

Ashes: damn we have a mom now

Raphealla: I demand to do a genetic test when we reunite.

Marius: I can confirm they do look alike

Marius: you can meet my parent

Lyf: No, they are not the same species. Marius was adopted, and has adopted siblings which are also not the same species. Apparently he's from a refugee planet so yeah that's still a mystery

Nastya: huh

Raphealla: that's actually frustrating

Marius: I'm sorry I can't remember

Lyf: at this point I need to know for safety concerns

Marius: my hair likes you! You don't have to be scared

Valerie: I'm keeping an eye on everyone.

TS: I Am Helping. Miss Valerie Is A Great New Friend

.......

Valerie smiles softly, tucking her son in next to Tim, Marius and Lyf are on the next bed dead to the world.She walks out of the room and heads to a crowded kitchen. "The boys are asleep, don't worry about them."

"Thank you, Valerie." Nexus smiles softly. "I know Marius can be a bit much in regards to sleep. I honestly don't know if his species is known to sleep long."

"Nonsense all children need sleep." Abby sips her tea. "I don't care how old they are mentally they are still our babies. How did you handle the sudden mechanical part anyhow?"

Valerie sighs. "It helps that I already had a mechanical heart myself due to being the first victim of that crazed doctor. My poor boy was terrified I was going to give him away. I would never."

Roger comes in and sits next to his wife and frowns. "Poor Timothy was terrified we would hate him. Good or bad, he's our son, and we'll still love him."

"I'm glad we're in agreement." Valerie sighs, taking a mug offered to her. "I do have their music recorded on my ship."

"Oh, why didn't you say something? I would love to hear some." Nexus smiles. "The way Marius talks about it got me interested."

"I suppose it wouldn't be wrong to listen while they sleep." Roger hums. "Although I heard it's not excatly family friendly."

"Oh, it's not." Valerie sighs. "None of them have a happy ending."

Abby frowns. "None of them? Why?"

"My boy takes stuff that has already happened, and the outcome isn't always the best. They tell the stories of societies or nations that are long gone. Comes with immortality, and they will out live any empire. I've seen my fair share of civilization rise and fall." Valerie takes a small sip of her tea. "I guess we'll just have to teach them to not always look on the bad side."

The four adults share glances and nod.

.......

"Why are we even going to school?" Jonny tugged at his uniform. "And this is ridiculous."

"You've never been to school first off." Valerie ruffles Jonny's hair. "You're lucky I got them to accept that you can't wear shoes."

"I have a doctorate in theoretical physics." Jonny huffs.

"He's also got a degree in literacy tragedies." Tim hums, tugging at his tie, which his mother already fixed six times.

"Timothy, stop playing with your tie." Abby sighs.

"Marius has like eight doctorates." Jonny rolls his eyes.

"And you won't acknowledge any of them." Marius puffs out his cheeks.

"Eight?!" Lyf stares at Marius.

"Well, it's actually 24, but like the ones where the graduation ceremony was destroyed doesn't count." Marius smiles.

"That's not... that's not how it works." Nexus picks up Marius.

"But I don't have the degrees, so yeah, it is." Marius grins when Nexus picks up Lyf next. "I've never been to a human school before."

"Neither have I." Lyf smiles back softly. "Also, he's right it's a ruke on the Aurora. No graduation, no doctorate."

"I still don't know why you memorized that." Jonny sighs as Valerie picks him up. "Do we really have to? If someone ends up dead I warned you."

"Jonny." Valerie narrows her gaze.

"I'll behave." Jonny huffs.

Tim is scooped up by his mom. "I can walk!"

"And I can hold you." Abby hums as Tim pouts. "Try not to scare the teachers, and remember you'll be in a different class from the others because you're human."

Tim continues to pout.

"You mean I'll be stuck with the space cop? Fuck." Jonny begins to pout as well.

"I literally cannot be a cop anymore, Jonny." Lyf pinches his brow.

"You're still a space cop." Marius chuckles.

"Yog Sogoth just fucking kill me." Lyf groans.

.......

Tim sat in the sandbox bored. The other kids avoided him because of his eyes, and the teachers kept whispering about him. He's still human, yet they treat him like he's a freak. He's physically a child, and they still treat him like this. He knows his family is different, and they got over this, but he can't expect that from everyone.

The alien school wasn't even close to this one, so there wasn't a point on escaping. He's fucking 6 it's not like he can get far. He laid back in the sand and stared up at the blue sky. He focused his eyes and stared at the moon. It was quite odd being able to see it with people living on the surface and not war torn dusty and lifeless.

Tim refocused his eyes as he got up and sighed. He dusted himself off of the sand and headed inside as the bell rang. He wanted to be back in Aurora's armory and lose himself to fixing the weapons. He just wants to be anywhere but here.

More whispers from kids and teachers alike, and it made Tim feel even worse. He couldn't even do anything. He hid himself in the corner of the classroom and kept to himself.

A soft metal creak pulled Tim from his thoughts as a boy with silverish, goldish skin pulls a chair next to him. He had a winter hat on his head, and his clothes were way too big.

Tim paused as his eyes focused and saw a familair heart. "Brian?"

The boy nods. "Carmillia found me after.... I don't know how I ended up here, but she turned my metal into a biometal substance, and it's weird. I don't know why I'm a child either." He pulls down his hat more, and Tim could spot a fox like tail flick back and forth. "She's pretending to be my mom and strong armed her way to make me go here. I don't like it."

"Well, I'm stuck too." Tim frowns and pushes his crayons over. "You never had a tail before."

"I've always had a tail, I think before um... this." Brian grabs a yellow one. "I don't think I enjoy earth."

Tim nods. "I don't, either."

"Can you take me with you when we leave? I don't want to go back to Carmillia." Brian pleads. "She keeps using me for experiments. I don't want to go back to being metal."

Tim smiles. "Mmh yeah, you can come with me."

......

Brian braced for Carmillia to appear, and he held onto Tim's hand tightly. "Do you see her?"

Tim is scanning the pick-up area. He didn't see any signs of the doctor, but he stood on guard. "I don't, but if she grabs you, she has to take me too. I won't let you go alone."

"Oi Timmy, who's that?" Andrew stood over both of them.

Tim tugs on Brian's hand. "One of the mechs, this is Drumbot Brian. The doctor is here! Don't let her get us, please!" He grabbed his brothers hand with his free hand. "Please, Andrew you can't." He sounded close to a panic attack.

Andrew grabbed both boys' hands. "Dad pulled his car up. You both will run with me, and we'll head straight home."

Roger nearly spit out his drink when the three boys rushed into his already packed car. "What's wrong? Who's your new friend?"

"That bad doctor is here!" Andrew pulled both boys close to him as the door shut.

"I-I don't want to go back." Brian clung to Tim.

Roger peels out of the parking lot. "Well, get all of you home safe, and you'll hide in the basement."

The ride home was silent, save for Brian's mumbling and Tim's panicked breathing. Both boys shot off like a rocket as soon as the door opened, and they rushed inside. Abby barely got a word out when the boys ran inside.

"Roger, what the bloody hell?" Abby watches her older children run in and get their makeshift weapons. "Samantha put that knife away."

"So you know how Tim told us about that doctor." Roger frowns. "She's here somewhere, and the Tim nearly had a panic attack. His new friend is a part of his crew."

"His name is Drumbot Brian!" Alex runs by them. He's on the heavier side, but he's 12 and will grow into it. "Andrew told me. Timmy looked super scared."

Abby takes a breath and smiles. "Kids relax. We can handle this. Samantha, go down to the basement and keep an eye on the boys.

Samantha nods. She was the oldest at 17. "Of course, bring the other kids down when they come back from school."

Abby nods. "Now everyone else, you're going to help me with dinner. Roger, you will head over to the other school, and I form everyone else and help them get back safely."

Roger gives a thumbs up and runs out to his van.

.......

"Hey, are you two ok?" Samantha crouched down by the two boys hidden in a corner of the basement. "I'm Sam, I'm Tim's older sister."

Brian looks up at her. "I'm Brian." Tim has buried his face in his chest, shaking tell tale signs he's having a panic attack but even more afraid to make noise. "I didn't know Tim had siblings."

Sam takes off his hat and two fluffy fox ears spring up amoung curly hair. She sits next to the two. "I guess Timmy didn't talk about us."

"W-we never pushed." Brian, let's her take Tim from him who clings to her, getting black oil like tears all over her clothes.

"Well, that sounds nice of you guys. So why did they call you Drumbot?" Sam smiles softly, watching Brian's pupils shrink as he relaxes.

"I was... I was all metal except my heart. The doctor experimented on me here when she found me. I think it's some sort of bio metal now. It's weird. I can eat again, though, and I'm starting to get my parts back from before I was mechanized. I remember, too." Brian yawns coming down from his fear. "I don't like being a kid again. It's much harder to keep my thoughts in order, and emotions are all..." He yawns again. "Everything and hard to control. I'm tired."

Sam ruffles Brian's hair and scratches behind his ears, which makes him purr. Tim had already passed out in her lap. "How about you lean on my and rest your eyes?"

"Ok." Brian moves closer to her. "You're very good at this."

"Yes, I am. I want to go to school for this stuff."

"Really?"

"Yes I do."

.......

Jonny was humming an old song as he waited next to Marius and Lyf. "I wonder why we get out later than the humans."

"Racism, most likely." Lyf shrugs.

Marius tilts his head. "Valerie, why are you covered in blood?"

Jonny snapped his head to his mother. "Mom?"

"I'm fine, it ain't my blood." Valerie takes out her cigar and puffs out smoke. "Apparently, we were followed by that fucked doctor."

"Carmillia?" Lyf looks between him as both Marius and Jonny paled.

"Mmh, I tied her up and threw her in the back of Nexus's truck. She's gagged as well she doesn't know when to stop talking." Valerie rolls her eyes. "You guys are safe."

Marius tugs on her leg. "Are you sure?"

Jonny nods. "Are we safe?"

"I won't let anyone harm you. Any of you." Valerie pauses as the sound of someone running stops in front of them.

"Good, I caught you." It was Roger.

"Is this about the doctor?" Valerie raised her brow.

"Oh, you're covered in blood." Roger blinks and pales.

"I've got her tied up and gagged. Don't worry. How do you know?" Valerie frowns.

"There's another kid, another mechanism. Drumbot Brian. That doctor has been experimenting on him since she found him." Roger looks disgusted. "I don't care how old he actually is. The boy looked six and was scared out of his mind."

"Brian?" Jonny frowns. "Take us there, please."

Marius nods, and his tail wraps around Lyf. "He's our pilot! He is the best of us."

"I think they will enjoy watching her tied up and gagged." Valerie smirks. "Roger, take them with you I'll prepare the doctor."

Roger nods.

.......

Jonny rushed down the stairs, followed by Marius and Lyf. "TIM! BRIAN!"

Brian woke up confused. "W-what?"

Samantha chuckles as Tim wakes up his face, a mess with black streaks.

Tim rubs his face, making the mess worse. He gets up and is pushed by Jonny back to the carpeted floor.

"You're ok!" Jonny hugs Tim tight before spotting Brian and tackling him next. "You're back too!"

"When did you get a tail?" Marius smiles and waves.

"What happened to the metal?" Lyf raised a brow.

Brian, let's out a little giggle. "Jonny! Let go!"

Jonny giggles and sits back. "You've got weird bio metal now."

Tim nods. "Yeah, he can eat now and sleep. You were sleeping right?"

"I think so." Brian frowns. "No, I was. Did... is she here?"

"My mom took care of it." Jonny smiles wide. "She's the best."

"Your mom?" Brian looked confused.

"Miss Valerie Is A Hunter!" TS waves from the top of the stairs. "Doctor Carmillia Is Tied To A Tree Outside, Hanging From A Sturdy Branch. Miss Valerie Is Being Hosed Off."

Brian blinks stunned. "She's been captured?"

"I'm still shocked she never caught you guys when she was tracking the Aurora." Lyf sighs.

"I still don't believe that was true." Marius frowns.

Tim nudges Brian. "Jonny's mother was the first of us since Carmillia was using New Texas as her personal playground."

Brian frowns. "That is horrible."

Jonny huffs. "Come on! We might as well see what the good doctor wants."

The kids exchange looks as Sam is too slow to stop any of them rushing to the stairs.

.......

"You were not this small when you left New Texas." Carmillia stares blankly at the children looking at her hanging from the tree.

"That's actually probably my fault." Lyf sighs. "Fucking Yog Sogoth."

"What are you even doing here?" Jonny huffs.

Carmillia smiles and begins to explain in detail how she wants Valerie in every way possible.

"I love Marius, and even he is tame compared to that." Lyf shudders.

Jonny is pale. "I'm.... That's my fucking mother." He starts to dry heave

Tim shudders. "I need a fucking shower."

Brian blinks. "I would literally rather be left on a sun again than know any of that."

Marius was pulling at his ears. "I'm just I'm going to...." He joins Jonny in dry heaving

"Do you enjoy traumatizing them?" Valerie rolls her eyes. "You don't get any better with age."

"I enjoy your company." Carmillia winks.

"I need a fucking drink." Valerie groans

[jpeg-indulgence]

UHhHhHHhHhHHhHhHhHhhHhHhHhhHhHHhHHhHhHhhHHhHhHhhH

Show me your top 10 favorite Vergil gifs. NOW! 🤺

OH MY GOSH IT'S HAPPENING OKAY OKAY HERE WE GO

Welcome to WatchMojo we're counting down the top 10 gifs of my husband

10.

This one's just of a pachinko game cutscene if I remember correctly, and I just think it's cool seeing him in the style

9.

Really simple one, but I like the ones where he looks chill. Usually he looks on the verge of a mental breakdown.

8.

His devil trigger form is so pretty to me I love it so much

7.

HE'S SO CUTE IN THE THIRD GAME LOOK AT HIS LITTLE FACE 🥺🥺🥺

6.

I showed this one earlier but his little neck crack is everything to me.

5.

HIM WITH HIS FOEBKING HAIR DOWN HELP ME PEAK OF COMBAT WAS A GIFT

4.

I just find him really hot in this one I don't even have a nicer way to put it

3.

If you use a certain taunt while his doppelganger (the blue dragon looking thing) is active, it'll start dancing, and Vergil will get really embarrassed and hide his face. At one point in the dance, the doppelganger will ask Vergil to join in which prompts this reaction out of him. It's so cute and I'm glad they added it.

2.

FUCK YOU TUMBLR I EDITED THE GIF I'M NOT LETTING YOU KEEP ME FROM SHOWING IT

A lil more context here. This is after all the events of the game, when Vergil is sitting with his son. He's kind of just awkwardly sitting there while his son is just doing his own thing, and occasionally attempts to start up conversation, then gets embarrassed and changes his mind.

It's the most human you see him to me. Like, he's cool when he's fighting off demons and being a cool swordsman guy, but in this moment he's just a flawed, insecure man who wants to bond with his son but doesn't know what to say.

I love it so much and I want to see more of this side of him in the future.

1.

This is my all time favorite.

This is the most genuine smile you ever see from him and it makes me so inexplicably happy.

He looks so sweet and soft I want to hug him.

Also why does he always look on the verge of falling asleep whenever he smiles?

Thank you for this ask this was so fun! 💙💙💙

[sarcasticdolphin]

Todolf (Canon) "Laertes"

This Rudolf has .... issues. Tod-being-a-manipulative-bastard issues, Gondrecourt-being-a-abusive-POS issues, and FJ-being-an-absent-father issues. So I imagine you won't be surprised that it is under the cut. Rudolf is 18-20 here. An adult, but a young one.

Rudolf’s cut had been clumsy, but he had most of the blood dabbed away when the soft and inexplicable chill descended to herald his friend’s arrival.

“My friend.” He quickly finishes with the bandages before turning to see Tod standing there, leaning against the desk.

“Rudolf.” Tod’s voice carried an unearthly music to it, and his eyebrow was quirked just so. “You know it is your thoughts-” Tod takes a few steps closer, grasping Rudolf’s chin in his fingers and forcing the prince to look him in the eye “that call to me. Not …” He trails off, glancing down at the bandages on Rudolf’s arm.

Rudolf nods, raising himself onto his tiptoes so their foreheads meet for a brief moment, and Tod’s fingers come to trace the line of Rudolf’s jawbone. “My thoughts are yours.” It’s more a prayer than anything else. “And my blood, if you wish it.”

They’ve been through this dance before. Perhaps once Rudolf would have offered his blood first, but not today. The blood was for Gondrecourt. A macabre sort of practice. The Emperor would be watching them spar tomorrow, and the Count had made it clear he had no intentions of going easy on Rudolf. He’d spare the Prince’s face, but that was it.

“I hate him.”

Tod smiles. “So you’ve told me.”

“I wonder what Papa would do if I gutted him tomorrow.”

Tod raises an eyebrow. “I for one would be most impressed if you managed to disembowel one so stout as your vexatious tutor with a rapier.”

Rudolf stepped closer to his friend, humming as Tod’s arms came around him and his friend began to softly hum the lullaby he’d sung to Rudolf when he’d been little more than a boy, so lost and alone in the dark. “He’s so much taller than me. He has so much more reach. I swear all of this is just his excuse to cut me up with my father’s permission.” It was a rare thing indeed for Rudolf to so much as land a glancing blow on Gondrecourt, but the Count invariably cut him daily. Little things, but each and every one hurt. And Rudolf remembered them well.

“You’ll grow in good time, Sweet Prince.”

Rudolf glared up at his friend. He wasn’t blind. He already stood equal to his father. The chances of him getting much taller were slim at best. “I wonder what Papa would do if I just put the Count’s eye out during the spar. It would certainly end-” Rudolf gestured to the bandages on his arm, and to the healed silver cuts. “But he has so much reach. The only time I’d ever hit him in the eye is between rounds.”

“There are no rounds in war. No respites.”

Rudolf groaned. “You sound like him, my friend.”

Tod has his chin once more a moment later “Sweet Prince, you wound me. And here you said my voice was music to your ears.”

His friend is so intimately close and Rudolf finds himself almost swooning. Forget music, Tod’s voice was simply magic. And that is what it would take. Magic for Rudolf to have a chance of making Gondrecourt regret this.

Tod’s chuckle is low in his ear and his hands are firm at Rudolf’s waistband. “Magic, Rudolf? Fret not, My Prince. I’ll be with you. Guiding you. I promise.” And then his hand is beneath Rudolf’s waistband.

—---------------

His father’s gaze is heavier even than Rudolf thought it would be. It is as if the man’s eyes are boring into Rudolf’s soul. It’s hot, and Rudolf is already bleeding from half a dozen slices. It’s probably not an exaggeration to say that the Count is trouncing him. And Rudolf fucking hates it.

He hates the disinterest in his father’s eyes. The disappointment etched on his face at having come solely to see his son prove that he had no skill at swordplay. But worse than that is Gondrecourt’s hidden sneer. Is the way his tutor so clearly holds him in utter contempt.

“Again.” The master of the field calls to signal the end of the break, and Rudolf storms back to his place, still vibrating with anger.

The clash of blades is short and sharp, but inevitably ends with Rudolf flinching backward, a shallow slice across his upper arm to show for his troubles. 

The master of the field must call for a break then, as he gestures for them both to step back. But Rudolf doesn’t hear it over the sound of his own speeding heartbeat. In that moment even his omnipresent imperial father might as well be absent. It is only Gondrecourt with him, sneering as always. 

Gondrecourt’s sneer, and the echo of a distant music. Rudolf’s grip tightens on his rapier, and he lunges forward.

Technically speaking, he misses. He’d been aiming for Gondrecourt’s eye, but the Count had managed to dodge ever so slightly and so Rudolf’s rapier merely slashed a long gash across his cheek and nose.

And the spell is broken. There is a collective gasp, and the Emperor stands. Someone - the master of the field - disarms Rudolf. The wind comes then, whispering in Rudolf’s ear. Not the disappointment evident on every face around him. Praise. Adulations. And Rudolf smiles.

—------------

It’s a horrible affair, Gondrecourt’s death. The gangrene is more drawn out than normal, but there is no doubt the Count is dying and every minute is excruciating. The Emperor is not best pleased with Rudolf, but the prince can’t bring himself to care. His friend is so very pleased, honey dripping from his lips and soft caresses light and dancing on his skin. That’s what matters. Not the anger of a distant Emperor. 

He says the words his friend tells him when his father asks. That he’d thrown the rapier away. That he couldn’t stomach it anymore. That he’s so very sorry. That he’d prayed and prayed. That he didn’t know what had come over him.

Tod is ever so happy to help him mount the rapier on the wall of his bedchamber at Mayerling, whispering in his ear all the while that he ought to be most careful, lest his finger slip and he follow the late count.

[pearblossommina]

ToG Read-A-Long, Kingdom of Ash, day 2

Ch 7

Dorian

Spider

Is it bad that I kinda like the spider 😂

I just think it’s cute that she told him “you can’t pronounce my name” and then instantly had a human-pronounceable name ready to give him. Girl’s been working on her human-sona all her life and now she finally has an opportunity to unveil it.

Idk, I like spooky characters that are actually friends. Suriel vibes. Hopefully she doesn’t murder them all in their sleep.

Ch 8

Reading about Aelin getting tortured is going to break my feeble heart, I might actually be too soft to endure this, it’s gonna give me nightmares.

I don’t really know Connall that well, but it sucks that Maeve had him stab himself to death. I feel bad for Fenrys too! Like ugh. Emotional damage.

Ch 9

I need a small morsel of hope to cling to right now. I hate this.

Ch 10

Hey, remember when he proposed to you while you were in dragon form

Remember when you said you wanted to slow this down

And now this is happening

Mixed signals, Lysandra

He needs cuddles

That’s what he needs

If you wanna be with Aedion you gotta go get your dragon bod on and cuddle him up

Ch 11

I’m actually kinda surprised to hear Chaol’s father is the last stronghold against Erawan. I guess it makes sense, since he wasn’t too fond of his son serving the King of Adaran… but it just seems like all the villains should be in league with one another, doesn’t it?

If they’re gonna go where witches are - I wonder if we’ll get a sweet Dorian x Chaol reunion?

Probably not. Since I think they’re in two different places and Dorian wants to go into Morath.

But maybe the witches will be nice, and want to make out and join forces!

Ch 12

Fuck, Aelin. I’m broken too. It’s good she has some fight left in her. Very surreal to see her dead mom’s ghost come to comfort her.

Rowan and the others are on the way tho! They’re near enough to feel your fighting spirit! Keep hoping, keep fighting, because babe is on his way. And he’s bringing friends.

Ch 13

They found the Crochans! Do they want to join forces!

This old witch knows exactly who Manon is!

She’s family! And she’s very welcoming! Aw!

Ch 14

Omg ok shit just got real

I think I have too high of hopes for Manon “the child of peace who’s supposed to unite the witches.” She didn’t even try, lol. Just brutally murdered those two covens. I mean - it’s fine - they were kind of being aggressive and came at them first - and maybe it was a show of faith to the Crochan’s to fight and kill so many ironteeth, but! I’m team Dorian a little bit. Team, what if those wyverns were given love and good riders. Team, just because you were raised and trained to be evil doesn’t mean that’s all you’ll ever be.

My heart goes out to him, with that severed Yellowlegs head. He’s learning the hard way that witches can be just as breakable as human women.

Ch 15

“Cyrene slumped to the ground, eyes unseeing.”

Jesus, Dorian! Chill out!

I actually did like her, lol. It’s ok, I wasn’t that attached. Maybe she taught him a little bit about shapeshifting? In her final moment? Maybe Dorian can harness the ability to shapeshift and use that to get into Morath. As a mouse, or something.

And the thing with Manon. Idk. I guess I don’t really know what it means to unite the witches and bring peace. Because some of those witches are vile and violent and deserve to be brutally slaughtered, like Manon’s grandma, who’s pretty much never done anything to redeem herself. But then, other witches are pretty chill and cool once you get to know them. They’re people too, with hopes and dreams and feelings. So I feel like just inviting the Ironteeth here to the Crochan camp and killing them impressively is NOT the way to go about it. But idk if Manon knows any other ways.

Maybe Dorian can help her, but idk.

It’s good to see them talking to each other. Their relationship needs development, lol, so I’m happy to see them developing.

[walkingstackofbooks]

DS9 3x25 Facets thoughts (I’m re-watching, so beware spoilers for future episodes!)

(06/06/2023)

I love Nog's determination to join Starfleet, he really is putting his all into it, and good for him.

"Why can't you take after your friend here? He knows enough to stay out of Starfleet. Even a human can see that there are a lot more profitable opportunities out there for a young man with ambition." "Uncle, he wants to be a writer. There's no profit in that." XD yep Quark's argument definitely backfired there - surely he knows humans work for enjoyment, not profit!

"I've noticed they've [Jadzia and Leeta] been spending quite a bit of time together." Oh I can really see them being excellent friends, I wanna read more about Leeta&Jadzia...

Oh I've just realised what episode this is - hell yeah! Definitely looking forward to seeing this again!

"If you don't mind... I'd like to borrow your bodies for a few hours." I'm sure they've all heard of stranger things, but also That is Quite The Request to just come out with. 

Leeta being the one person super informed about the Trill is everything - and Julian looks at her so admiringly, it's sweet :3

The way Kira says yes is somehow so intimate, I can't with the way she smiles at Jadzia.

Ughh, I HATE oomax being used to force Quark into doing things, at any time, it's just gross - but especially here, when he's being asked to do something uncomfortable with his body but is expected to agree straight away without being given thinking time.

The special effects are so weird - the memories glow?

"I was one of the first women to serve as a council member. When I started out, I talked with my hands a lot. Lots of emphatic gesturing. I discovered some of my male colleagues were imitating of me, so I started to do this." It's always strange but interesting to see alien societies have the exact same problems as Earth - though for Trill, this was in the mid-late 2100s, so (god I hope!) long after women were treated equally on Earth. I'm curious now about how Trill society treated joined women whose symbionts had lived in male hosts, or if they once had a strict gender binary that meant symbionts were only passed down in same-gender lines? 

"It's so strange. It's like you really are Lela." Actually I had completely forgotten it was Kira's body too - Nana Visitor is an incredible actress!

I love how tenderly Shimerman is acting as Audrid - he isn't playing this for laughs.

I cannot take Torias' American accent seriously I'm sorry XD I can't tell if it's believable or not but at the very least it sounds wrong coming out of Julian's mouth!

The music and Sisko's soft voice... Chills

"I think that's enough of Joran for now." And you just believed him, Jadzia? That didn't even SOUND like Sisko!

I do love it when there's a scene and someone's head just pokes around a corner. 

Rom's bumbling about is very endearing no matter what Quark says

Rom ordering a uniform! So cute!

Odo kissing Quark on the forehead! Odo saying "Did I ever mention you're a magnificent scoundrel?" WELL THEN

This Curzon/Odo thing is quite a lot of fun though. 

"He's right, you know. And it's not fair. Starfleet has no idea who it's passing up. Nog, you would have made a good officer." Quark! That's so sweet?

"Yes, but the truth is, I felt sorry for you." FUCK YOU CURZON

QUARK YOU DID WHAT?!!! THAT'S WHY YOU WERE SO NICE TO HIM EARLIER?? YOU'RE THE WORST!!!

"And if you ever do anything to hurt Nog again, I'll burn the bar to the ground." "You wouldn't dare." "Oh yes I would. My son's happiness is more important to me than anything, even latinum." Rom is just so good. (Also, makes me think of when Angelica sings, "I love my sister more than anything in this life, I will choose her happiness over mine, every time!" in Hamilton.)

He's definitely far more Curzon than Odo imo - he's got Odo's mannerisms but Curzon's enjoyment of life and personality.

"You can't intimidate me, Curzon. And I'm not a little girl anymore." YOU TELL HIM, JADZIA

The music.. Are we supposed to feel sorry for Curzon about his revelation he loved her? Because nope. No. 

I love how we get to see Julian and Miles playing darts and Sisko, Kira and Jake having dinner together just cos. That scene could have started with any generic Quark's bar shot but it didn't :3

ROM IS SO SWEET. 

Everyone's fond smiles <3

Nog it's too :3333 "I know I haven't earned the right to wear it yet, but my father got it for me." He's obviously a little uncomfortable knowing he shouldn't be in uniform yet but he still wears it to make his father happy <3

"It just occurred to me. As soon as that kid graduates from the Academy, I'm going to have to call him sir." I love how O'Brien says this with fond amusement.

"What can I get you, Nog?" "A root beer. It's an Earth drink. Something they serve at the Academy." "A root beer. This is the end of Ferengi civilization." Always so dramatic, Quark.

[insatiablelustforpower]

(Taught) and (rose tinted)?

childhood memories 

I learned that the givers of this world have a breaking point on the day that I made a special vow.

Back when my mother was alive, I remember overhearing one of her and my father’s many scuffles from upstairs. I was in bed, asleep as it was the early hours of the morning, when a loud shouting match erupted from the kitchen. A lot of times whenever my parents would fight I would hide away, as was my mother’s instructions, but if I knew she was too sickly to fight back I would intervene to the best of my ability. But, this day… something was different about the way their fight sounded. I heard my mother’s normally soft and gentle voice come out as a deafening roar, the angriest I’d ever heard it. There was the sound of furniture being forced out of the way and the undeniable sound of flesh colliding against flesh. I heard the shatter of glass— my mother’s cherished China falling to the floor.

After that I heard explicatives fall from my mother’s lips. My mother, a god fearing and honest woman who never swore, who never spoke ill of anyone or anything, who never complained even when things were at rock bottom, shouted at my father with conviction.

‘I fucking hate you! Die! Go to Hell!’

I was taken aback. I have never heard her in such a state before. While my mother shouted and screamed, I heard my father’s voice less and less, until eventually all I heard him say was ‘Stop… Stop it… Stop…!’

My legs carried me quietly from my bed to the stairs slowly. I still heard my mother shouting, swearing, completely beside herself. By now Dario’s protests had subsided.

When I peaked into the kitchen doorway, I saw my mother on top of my father, a knife raised high above her head.

“Goodbye,” she said to him, her voice frigid and calm. I have never heard her sound like this either.

The scene before me filled me with an indescribable feeling. Although a chill ran down my spine, my heart skipped a beat, and I felt something akin to admiration and affection for my mother spread throughout my body. I sucked in an involuntary gasp as the knife swung down, aiming for my father’s chest, and that noise caused my mother’s head to snap towards me.

When she laid her eyes on me, they were wide and wild. She glared at me, something she has never done, until her brain caught up with the situation at hand. When she realized that she was looking at me, her eyes immediately softened, a smile spreading across her face.

“Did we wake you, sweetie?”

Wordlessly I nodded.

My mother sighed. “I’m sorry, things got a little bit heated.” She rose to her feet, gingerly placing the knife back in the drawer. “I promise we won’t be so loud for the rest of the day.”

She took my hand, her usual gentle smile on her face, and led me back upstairs to my room. I could hear my father scrambling to his feet and bolting out the door from behind us.

He did not return home for the remainder of the day, so the house was quiet and peaceful.

Later that evening my mother was gently washing my hair, her smile present on her face. “Dio, dear. I have an idea, would you like to help me make it come true?”

I looked over my shoulder to peer into her eyes. “Yes, what is it?”

“First, you have to promise me you will not tell your father. This can be a mother-son secret.”

“Of course,” I agree. The curiosity was eating at me.

“I want you to help me kill your father. When he is gone, I’ll send you off to a good school.”

The blood in my veins froze, but at the same time I felt that same warm, tingling sensation spread from my chest through the rest of my body. The woman who I believed wouldn’t ever hurt a fly planned to murder my leech of a father? The woman whose hugs were like rays of sunshine in a flower garden, whose kisses were sweet and comforting, whose touch made me feel indescribable things was capable of such thoughts?

I then thought back to when I saw my mother on top of my father, the knife raised high above her head. The chilling look in her eyes as she looked down at him with all the contempt in the world. Her simple goodbye to him before she swung the knife down to his chest, only stopping because she sensed my presence.

Perhaps my giver of a mother had no qualms about taking every now and then, even if it were a life.

“It will be our secret, our vow to each other for a better life. Will you help me, Dio?”

“Yes, mother,” I replied without a moment of hesitation. I felt her grab my hand and press her lips to my knuckles, and I did the same to hers.

In this world there are givers and there are takers. In order to survive, the takers of this world take from the givers until they are nothing but a hollowed out husk, and then they move onto the next victim. Sometimes, the givers reach their limit, and for the moment they become takers.

[flowerinjuries]

Hi can you do haechan type of bf like the one you did with mark? Thank u!

i got a few requests to do this so here it is!

haechan as a boyfriend!

the soft side:

at first he’s kind of confusing to you because he’s both really intimidating but also really funny

whenever he looks at you, a chill runs down your spine

you just really want to impress donghyuck, so whenever his eyes meet yours you feel suddenly insecure

this feeling doesn’t last long though as you get to know him!

soon you find out how ridiculously immature he is and how easily he gets your stomach to hurt from laughing so hard

he’s a prankster too

loves to make you think you’re losing your mind

where’d your clean clothes go? you swear you set them on your bed so you could get dressed after your shower

you catch your boyfriend haechan tiptoe into your room with a playful smirk on his lips

of course the son of a bitch stole your clothes just so he’d get the chance to see you walk out of the shower in nothing but a little towel

but when he gives you back your clothes, you wonder where your panties went?

let’s just say haechan has a little stash of souvenirs hidden away from you

anyways.. my mind’s in the gutter..

haechan is a bratty boyfriend

loves to pick ridiculous arguments with you just because he thinks you’re hot when you’re pissed at him

he will laugh at you when you’re trying to be serious with him

he can’t help it.. he barely takes you seriously just because you make him so happy

it’s just a rare occasion for you to see him upset because of something you did

haechan has a big mouth

loves to brag about you to the guys

calls you his angel sent from heaven

he’s your fucking devil though

you’re more reserved than him, so of course you’re gonna blush red and smack him when he blurts out something that was meant to be personal

but at the same time it turns you on when he boasts about you

he only ever has good things to say about you

rubs it in everyone’s face that you’re his and his friends will never find someone as good or hot as you

he just thinks you’re so perfect and he’s so lucky that you reciprocate his love

haechan is very touchy

wants you sitting on his lap all the time

he does not care where you are, you better let him have his hands on you

he compliments you so much that others may think his words have lost their meaning

but not to you two

every sweet word exchanged between you two love birds only makes your hearts flutter more

haechan is just exciting to be around and he makes you feel like a kid with a crush

he will always be your crush

god i love haechan

the not-so-soft side (nsfw/18+):

ok i know this is what you all came here to read

trust me i’m excited to write this.. haechan is so sexy and would 100% fuck his lover better than he’d ever imagine fucking a hookup

he’s really mean though >:(

but when you first got together he was really sweet and took his time

it’s just that he’s so open with you about everything it’s only natural that you two ended up exploring harder kinks together and learned to enjoy it

you two just love and trust each other so much so sex is always fun no matter what’s going on

i’ve previously said i think he’s a switch but for this i’m just gonna write him as a hard dom

((he’s still a switch though shhhh))

sadistic as fuck

he’s so sick in the head

wants to see you cry, scream, and beg for him throughout the entire fuck

his definition of foreplay is torturing you </3

takes it excruciatingly slow

he’s gonna laugh at how pathetic you are for him

hell he might be into knife play since he’s such a sick fuck

you love it though

the shivers you get from the anticipation and the nerves just turn you on beyond belief

he ruins all your lingerie

he’s rich though so he’ll buy you more don’t worry

his hot breath is always whispering gruesome (but sexy) things into your ears

he’s so extreme

“i bet you’d wait in hell for years just to get a chance for me to fuck your wet fucking hole, huh?”

duh

grips your thighs so hard there’s deep purple bruises :(

does not listen to you when you tell him to slow down

he will stop abruptly in the middle of fucking you <3 he’s such a fucking tease it makes you so angry

but he’s the one in charge, sweetheart

he does what he wants with you

you’re just his toy

(but you’re his favorite)

he cums alllll over you

so so messy

makes you lick it up as you make eye contact

if you’re lucky he will praise you

there’s so much i could write…

haechan is just the most mind blowing sex partner there is

but even if he’s wild, he never fails to take care of you for as long as you need afterwards

he does your skincare routine for you and takes you to your favorite drive through

will ramble on about life all night long as you drift asleep in his arms <<<3

i really love hyuck :’)

i hope my anons enjoyed this! as well as all my readers! i appreciate you all :D asks are always open, so please send in requests or any fantasies you have! i’m always in need of writing inspiration!

[metalbuckaroo]

For your sleep over prompt 13 and 17 with situation 75 from the misc. list? Maybe dbf!bucky if possible!

Picnic

Summary: A company picnic, Bucky's favorite sundress the bosses son, and a jealous Bucky.

Warnings: slight jealousy, smut, oral m receiving, cursing. Think that it? If I forgot any let me know

AU: dbf!bucky x fem reader

AN: Thanks for joining the sleep over!

Ask from this lists, requests are always open so feel free to send some in!

MASTERLIST

Gif not mine

You should've know that agreeing to your dads invitation to his company's picnic was a terrible idea. Bucky was there and was on the verge of catching your dad's attention with how touchy he was being.

A simple brush to your backside that sent chills across your skin, hands lingering a little too long on your waist when he'd be anywhere near you, and definitely catching a few wandering eyes when he leaned to talk into your ear.

"Something wrong, sweet girl?" His raspy voice was damn near taunting, hot breath fanning your jaw as you forced a smile and laugh like he had just said something funny; trying to ignore the growing ache between your thighs.

Bucky couldn't help himself, you were in his favorite sundress; the light blue one with thin straps that barely reached mid thigh. If the wind blew just right he could catch a glimpse of the matching lace underwear you wore and the fading hickies he'd left on the insides of your thighs.

You glanced around at the employees who were mingling with their coworkers and families, seeing that your dad was engulfed in a conversation with his boss and a younger boy before turning to face Bucky.

"You gotta calm down on the touching. My dad is gonna see and we'll get caught." You said through gritted teeth, poking a finger into his firm chest.

The smirk on his face was almost enough to have your knees buckling, the right sleeve of his t-shirt stretching at the seam when he folded his arms across his chest. "You're so much fun to touch. Always get so flustered and fidgety. It's cute." He chuckled, tongue swiping across his bottom lip.

You were about to snap a comeback at him when your dad called your name, gesturing for you to come over.

"This is my daughter, she's home for the summer from college." He boasted as you walked closer. "Josh." The younger boy said, reaching his hand out for you to shake.

Bucky watched for a moment as you talked with the three men, smiling and laughing with the boy closer to your age; as if Bucky didn't have you sat on the bathroom counter at your house with his head between your thighs just an hour before the picnic.

Like his shirt wasn't hiding the scratch marks down his back and hickies that littered his chest and stomach from the night before.

"Josh seems like a good kid." You dad said to Bucky, getting a soft nod in response. "Yeah, sure does."

After the picnic you went to Bucky's instead of your own home, making up some bullshit excuse to your dad about going to a friend's.

"That guy was eye fucking you. It was disgusting." Bucky grumbled as he popped the cap off of a beer, his t-shirt discarded and jeans traded in for sweatpants; the marks from the night before now on full display.

Just the thought of that boy catching your attention made his blood boil, let alone getting to touch you in the ways Bucky had the chance to many times.

"Are you even listening to me? Or are you too lost in that horny brain of yours?" He snapped, swinging his arm to recalibrate it. "You eye fuck me all the time." You shrugged, getting a glare in response. "Well, I actually fuck you, I've seen, kissed and touched every part of you. So, I'm allowed."

Though; you weren't listening to his grumpy mutters. Instead, gawking over his muscular back and the way the muscles flexed and the metal plates of his left shoulder were shifting when he moved around the kitchen.

"Why does it matter you? We're just having sex. Remember?" You retorted, raising your eyebrows at him from your spot on one of the stools. "That mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble, sugar."

You wanted to see just how far you could push his buttons, deciding to egg him on more. "Whatever happened to the lady you said you were going to hook up with?" You slid off of the stool, slowly walking to stand in front of where he was leaned against the counter. "Maybe I should've said yes to that date with Josh."

His jaw clenched and he sat the beer on the counter, leaning down so close that his breath fanned your face. "I said that because you pissed me off. You're not going on a date with that boy." Bucky ordered through gritted teeth, making you laugh lightly.

You hooked your fingers in his waistband and smirked up at him. "I'm just kidding, Buck. Chill out." You said, peppering kissed under his jaw.

His grip on the counter relaxed when you palmed him through the fabric of his sweatpants, lips trailing down his chest and stomach to feel the tensing muscles as you slowly sank down to your knees; his darkened eyes watching your every move.

His erection twitched in the air, hard and leaking when you pulled his sweatpants down; his teeth gritted as he waited for you to do something, anything. "That really all it takes?" You teased, pumping over it a few times.

Bucky swallowed thickly, narrowing his eyes at you. "You gonna let me stuff that pretty mouth or keep being a brat?" He muttered, blue of his eyes dark with lust and just rings around his blown pupils.

Swirling your tongue around the leaking tip, you moaned at the taste of precum tainting your tastebuds as Bucky's right hand tangled in the back of your hair; a low groan pulling from his chest as you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking lightly.

"Quit bein' a tease, sweet girl. More." He rasped, tapping his metal fingers to your cheek and tugging his bottom lip between pearly white teeth.

You placed your hands on his toned thighs to keep yourself balanced when you took more into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you pulled back.

Bucky's vulgar sounds reached your ears like a melody as his hand guiding your mouth, your eyes watering and drool dribbling down your chin each time his tip hit the back of your throat.

A gentle graze of your teeth along the throbbing vein that ran on the underside of his cock and he nearly lost it, a strained moan leaving his parted lips as he tilted his head back. "Oh, my god. Do that again." He panted, fist tightening in your hair as you flattened your tongue around it instead; looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"C'mon, sweetheart. Do it again." He moaned, jaw slack and chest heaving.

Giving him what he wanted, his eyes closed for a moment as a shudder ran through his body. "Oh, fuck."

The groaned words went straight to your throbbing heat, the ache growing as he pulled away and tugged you to stand by the upper arm.

In what felt like a split second you were leaning your palms on the counter, skirt of your dress being flipped up and underwear now pooled at your ankles as Bucky lifted your hips up a little.

His body bent over yours, lips brushing the shell of your ear as he slowly slid into your walls, every inch stretching you around him more until he was buried to the hilt; your head already feeling fuzzy from the welcoming fullness.

"Think he can fuck you better than me? Keep you as full?" His flesh hand reached to pull the front of your dress down so your breasts spilled out. "Just admit it, no one will compare to me, sweet girl." Bucky muttered in your ear, kneading the supple flesh.

"Just like no one will compare to you." He hummed, pressing a soft kiss to the side of your neck that made you whimper before his hips started rolling into you.

His hands gripped your waist when his thrusts quickened, revealing in every vulgar sound that spilled from your mouth over the sound of slapping skin. "So wet and tight. All for me." He groaned, feeling your walls flutter around him; the inviting warmth egging on the body shaking thrusts as his hands held you in place.

You were struggling to hold yourself up on your shaky arms, a slap of skin making you jump when Bucky's palm came in contact with the swell of your ass before gently smoothing over the stinging skin with cool metal.

His pants and groans added to the pressure building in your lower belly, making the wrong choice to glance at him over your shoulder.

The blissed out look on his face sent you over the edge, mustering out a whimper as your knees buckled before Bucky's metal arm hooked around you.

"I got you, baby." He grunted, his free hand grabbing your chin and body leaning over yours to catch your mouth in his for a sloppy, lust driven kiss; tongues and teeth gnashing together.

Your wobbly arms gave out when he pulled away, catching yourself on your forearms as he chased his own high with shorter, harder thrusts.

A choked moan passed his lips, fingers digging into your hips as he spilled into you and muttered a few praises.

Bucky made sure you were steady as he slipped out of you, hands holding your waist as you stood; legs sore from the exertion of trying to keep your hips high enough for his taller stature.

"You alright, baby?" He hummed when you turned around, fixing the top of your dress. A soft 'yeah and he lifted his hands to cup your cheeks, pecking a quick kiss to the tip of your nose. "No date for you or me. Okay? Just us."

The sparkle of his eyes made you want to melt, denim-blue boring into you with a certain hopeful look. "Hm, I don't know. You're hot when you're jealous." You smirked, hands resting on his sides.

"Watch it, sweet girl. Might just have to spank you."

[rezzyromance]

Idk if this is how you request things or if it's just asking, BUT-

How would the Lords react to an S/O that's usually the chillest person that you will ever meet (not to be confused with a pushover because they are not), they've never seen them even mildly annoyed when something bad happens. But then something happens and, turns out, the S/O is utterly TERRIFYING when they're mad.

Hope this makes sense!

Aw man I'm gonna feel awful scaring Moreau and Donna :(

Alcina

You're relaxing on a beautiful morning. The sun is shining through the window just enough to warm the room but not hurt your eyes. You hadn't even changed out of your sleep wear. "How are you feeling, my dear?", a sweet voice rang from the doorway. You were sitting in your favorite chair near the window. You turn and smile at her. She walks over and rubs your face in her large hand before leaning down and giving you a soft kiss. "I'm feeling amazing. And you?", you grab her hand before she pulls it away and you place a kiss on her knuckles. "I'm feeling alright. There's a new maid here. She's a bit slow. I'm giving her until tonight to finish dusting the entire castle or else she won't see another sunrise." It was almost comedic how dark her words were as you both stared out the window and gazed at the beautiful scenery. "Come on Alcina.", you stand up and place your hands on hers, trying to hold them despite the size difference. "Give the girl a break. It's a huge castle AND it's her first day.", you knew your words would probably change nothing. Alcina was rather cruel, but you looked past it. You tried your best to make the nervous maids comfortable whenever they arrive.

"We'll see how she does." She gives you one more kiss before leaving the room. You sit back down in your chair, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a little while longer. You lose track of time, minutes maybe even hours go by. Suddenly, there's a crash not far from the door. You jump and stand up, no longer comfortable after being startled. "What in the name of Mother Miranda?!", you leave the room and look down the hallway. The new maid stood there with a terrified look on her face. In front of her was one of the paintings Alcina had on her walls, now with a broken frame and a hole punctured. Your blood began to boil. It was a painting of you, her, and the girls all together. It was your favorite. "How in the hell did you manage to do that?!", you begin to stomp towards her. She cowers and struggles to find her words. "I-I-I was just dusting! It fell and I-I didn't mean t-", you cut her off. "How the fuck did you knock such a large painting over just by dusting?! DO YOU THINK YOU'RE ALLOWED TO MAKE SUCH STUPID MISTAKES HERE?!", you unravel. "I-I didn't mean to! I'm sorry!", she almost begins to weep. "SORRY ISN'T GONNA SAVE YOUR ASS!"

"MISS DIMITRESCU PLEASE HELP!", she cries out. You freeze, realizing that the lady herself is right behind you. You turn to face her. Her eyes are wide with shock. She has never seen you like this before and never even knew you had this type of side to you. She was impressed as much as she was terrified. "(Y/N)? Are you alright my love?" She had no idea what to do as your seething slowed down. "Why don't you go back to the room, yes? Settle down a little and deal with her later.", she places a hand on your back helps walk with you back to the room. Once you're there, she bends down to whisper in your ear. "I don't know where this side of you has been this whole time, but I am so amazed by you. And also a little frightened."

Donna

The Beneviento house was usually a calm place despite its creepy aura. You and Donna are both quiet and chill people. Never once have you fought or even raised your voices at each other. It was pleasant.

You had planned a nice dinner for the both of you. You wanted to try out a new recipe and surprise her, so you made your way to the kitchen to get started. "Okay, what first? I guess I'll need a pot.", you go rummaging through the kitchen and you find the pots stacked within each other inside one of the top cabinets. You groan and stand up on your toes, grazing the pots with your fingers. It didn't take much to cause them to tumble down, crashing on top of you with a loud sound that followed. "Aw shit.", you sighed and picked up the knocked over pots. A small but annoying pain began to throb in your head from where it made contact with a pot. What you didn't notice was you forgot to pick one of the pots up. It remained unnoticed. "It's fine.", you say to yourself as you maintain your composure. Next, a cutting board and knife. You turn around and begin to walk forward to find the cutting board, but you slam your toe into counter. You wince in pain and grab your foot. "SON OF A BITCH!", you yell.

You calm yourself, still wanting to have a pleasant meal with Donna. "Alright. Everything's fine." You step forward and kick the pot that you had forgotten to pick up. It caused your freshly kicked toe to ache even more. "OH COME ON! GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!", you scream and swear as you throw your arms up in pure rage and shock.

"...(Y/N)?", a gentle voice whispered from the doorway, causing you to whip your head in that direction. It was Donna. She looked absolutely horrified and almost looked like she could cry. "Is.. is everything... are you alright?", she worried. "Yes. I'm sorry. Just got a little pissed off.", you took a deep breath to calm yourself down, feeling bad for scaring the poor girl.

Moreau

You were sitting on the dock together, looking into the water as your feet swung back and forth above it. It was a sunny day and you two decided to spend it outside. Your hand slowly made its way over to his. His feet stopped swinging for a second as you entangled your fingers. "I don't know what I'd do without you, (Y/N)." his words were bitter sweet as a gentle smile formed from his lips. "Oh, Sal. You don't have to think like that. I'll always be here for you.", you kiss his cheek and continue to relax as you sway your legs.

"There it is! There's the beast!", a voice yelled from not so far away. You both look in the direction of the voice and see a few young village boys. Possibly between the ages of 13 and 16. Moreau had become some what of a scary story for the villagers. A tale that kids spread on school court yard and bring up during dares. But, you've never seen a kid brave enough to actually make it far enough into the reservoir to actually see Moreau. Now, there were about 3. All of them stood and pointed, shocked and terrified.

"Hey beast! Come get me!", one kid teases. You glare at the kids as a newfound rage begins to boil inside you. "Let's go back inside.", Moreau says before standing up from the doc. The sadness in his voice was heartbreaking. Suddenly, one of the children gathers the guts to pick up a rock and throw it as hard as he could. His aim was off, but not by much. It slammed into the wood near Moreau's feet, startling him. "Take that you devil!", he laughs. "THAT'S IT YOU LITTLE SHIT!", you begin sprinting in the direction of the immature brats. Two of them run from the direction they came from while the one who threw the rock was frozen in fear. You took the opportunity to grab him by the collar of his shirt. "Listen here you little waste of space. I'm gonna give you 3 seconds to turn around and run for your goddamn life. If you or any of your little snot-nosed friends come around here again, they'll be goddamn fish food. Do you understand?" The kid was too scared to speak and instead began to nod rapidly. You let him go and watched as he ran as fast as he could, screaming the whole way.

You walk back to the shack and find Moreau standing in the same place he was when you took off. His mouth was agape and he looked almost as scared as the kids. "You alright Sal? I made sure those little shits won't be coming around here anymore." "Yeah... I didn't know you could be so... scary", he says. "I'm sorry. But those kids were being cruel. I had to do something.", you say. "Well... it was awesome!", he smiled. "But also very scary!" You laugh which helps sooth him a little.

Heisenberg

"Screw driver.", is all Karl said with an outstretched palm. He was working on some type of mechanical heart for his experiments. He wanted you to lend a "helping hand" even though he could easily do it all by himself. He did this because he wanted to be around you, he was just too stubborn with too big of an ego to simply say it. So here you were, handing him every little tool he asks for.

"Do you want the big one or the little one?", you say with a hint of boredom in your tone. "Aw c'mon don't sound like that! Isn't this exciting? It's like you're working on it with me! Also, hand me the big one.", you do as he says and hand him the big screw driver. "I just don't get it. You literally have powers. You can easily do this by yourself and have been for so long. Why do you need me to help?" He pauses for a second and looks over towards you, his brow slightly furrowed. "I don't NEED you to help. I just thought it would be nice for you to help out. Plus, you're the one always bitching about me constantly working. Well, here you are! Helping me work! So, either suck it up or you can leave." His harshness had no real ill will in it. He was just confused and a bit too ignorant to consider his words. But, he was testing your patience. He continued to use the screwdriver until handing it to you without saying a word.

"Hand me a screw.", he demanded with his hand facing palm up again. "Which size?" "They're all the same sizes, dumbass." You feel your blood begin to boil. "They're different fucking sizes! This one is smaller than this one!", you hold up two screws that are obviously different sizes. This makes Karl angry. Not because you were right, but because you seemed upset over something that seemed so insignificant.

"If you came here just to yap in my ear, then I don't think I need your assistance.", he huffed. You put the selection of tools and supplies he was making you hold on the table he is working on and ball your fists. "You're the one who told me to do this in the first place!", you yell. "Yeah, because you won't stop bitching! Non-stop you're always compla-" you cut him off before he can finish. "SHUT UP!", you yell. The room goes silent. "YOU SAY I'M BITCHING? HAVE YOU HEARD YOURSELF? JESUS FUCKING CHRIST KARL YOU BITCH AND MOAN ALL THE TIME! I'M DONE TAKING SHIT FROM YOU!" He wanted to be angry, but he couldn't. He felt something much more overwhelming. Was he.. intimidated? He didn't move from his seat. All he could do was look up at you with a confused expression. What now? What is there to do? If he pushes you further, what would happen? He was actually too scared to find out.

You take a deep breath to calm down before speaking. "Now, if you want me to help with your shit, I'll stay as long as you keep your mouth shut. Can you possibly manage to do that?" He gulps nervously. "Yes ma'am."