#if it is a child wearing a mask maybe it’s like he sees himself in the child?

[marleneoftheopera]

Now there’s a lot I’m liking about the Romanian production… but I’m gonna need an explanation on this one.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fan fic Idea: Danny Fenton's Ex

Danny wants to know that he did not go looking for a fight. He merely wanted to have some of the best hot dogs this side of the USA, in Tucker's words. The human world had changed a lot across differnt timelines but his best friend had assure him, this one was particually tasty.

He planned to pop in, hunt down the street cart filled with buns and meat, then pop out of Gotham. He was meant to visit for less than an hour at most.

He just happened to be at the wrong place and time. It really wasn't his fault! Danny had been minding his own business, using a paper map on the edge of a tall building (his phone had broken in the last ghost fight. Not that it would do any good since it wasn't connected to any living towers), squinting at the streets below, hoping to figure out where he was. The next thing he knew, an angry child leaped out at him with a sword.

Of course, he defended himself! The kid was doing some insane slashes in the air, and Danny had fought enough samurai ghosts to know not to underestimate how powerful a katana indeed was. He had been able to beat the child, encasing his arms in ecto-chains, after a full half hour of combat.

Danny had been dead tired- pun not intended- but just as he thought he was done, a second child had leaped out at him. This one carrying a bo-staff. It took another thirty minutes to beat this one, and just as he was gearing up for a lecture, a third child appeared.

She was wearing all purple and seemed to favor strong kicks. Danny had the bruise to prove it, but just as he could take her down—and stop the other two from escaping since they were attempting to do so—he was attacked by an actual shadow and her red bucket-head friend.

Now, those two were difficult to beat, especially when it was two vs. one. Shadow reacted as if she could predict all of his moves before he even made them, while Bucket Head made incredible shots with his guns covering her attacks.

Danny had already been expelled from his other two fights, so it was a miracle he was able to trick Shadow by allowing more of Phantom to bleed into his fighting style. She couldn't predict the dead!

He ended up on a roof with five children- okay, more like a child, two teenagers, and what could be the early twenties, but they were all young to him. Each was tied up securely with some of his own ecto-chains and glaring- he could feel the hate in their eyes even behind their masks- trying desperately to catch his breath.

"Oh boy, I'm not as young as I used to be. " He gasps between huffs. Maybe Sam was on to something when she lectured them for not having enough greens, normal exercise routines, or even taking vitamins. They really weren't teenagers anymore. "Ugh, I think I pulled something. I need to lie down..."

Just as Danny is allowing himself to slide to the floor, two more shadows jump at him. This time he's far too tired to dodge, and the blue one manages to land a drop kick to his chin. The force has Danny spinning in place, losing his balance, and slamming hard against the roof.

The tied-up children cheer, and if he wasn't a walking bruise right now, Danny would be half tempted to show them all a round two.

"Great Gatsby!" He cries out of reflex, rolling onto his back, ready to take a swing-

"Danny?" a new familiar voice cuts in. The sound is something Danny will never forget, even after all the years they have been apart. He used to fall asleep to that voice, muttering into his hair and warm arms wrapped around him, making promises never kept.

Danny whips his head around to see a man in a bat costume. He squits, studying the strong curve of a very familiar jaw and his voice-

"Wayne?" He blinks. Those lips- so familiar and different all in one- curve into a surprise, but please smile. Yes, that is definitely Bruce.

"Danny, I haven't seen you since-"

"You broke up with me through a letter on the hotel note-pad? A note-pad that I had to pay for since you touched it!?" Danny hisses, suddenly energized with pure, unadulterated rage. The man freezes.

"I, uh, see you're still upset about that." Wayne winces, shuffling on his feet- Bruce Wayne, the little human he found wandering the Infinite Realms, rescued, helped, trained, and had become human again to have the man dump him to "find himself."

Danny knew he found a lot of ladies on his self-discovery trip. He never forgave him. It has been embarrassing to have to return to the Realms to his friends' knowing eyes and his sister's sad shrug.

You knew a human could never understand or live with beings like us. We aren't like them anymore. She had told him. It was bond to end in disaster.

"What is happening?" The bow-staff kid asks

"I don't know, but I don't like it," Blue tells him.

Danny ignores them to glare at the man. "What the hell are you doing here, Wayne?"

Wayne frowns. "You used to call me Bruce."

"I used to do a lot of things, Wayne." Danny stands, gesturing to the group of people he has captured. "Can you kindly disappear again? I'm in the middle of something."

The man makes no move to leave. Instead, he tilts his head. "Those are my children."

"Of course they are." Danny rolls his eyes. "Tell them to not attack innocent tourists-"

"Are you here on vacation? Would you like me to give you a tour?"

The familiar words- the ones from their first date- make rage boil in his core. "Oh, go burn in the worst levels of hell!"

He doesn't stick around for a reply, twisting in a tight circle and ripping a hole into the Realms. He ignores Wayne's call of his name; it's too late- fifteen years too late- and shifts back into Phantom.

He prays he never sees that deadbeat again. Or the family his wife gave him. Not that Danny cares; it's been years, and he could care less what Bruce Wayne and his stupid kin got up to.

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

"Bruce, I say this with all my heart, what the fuck was that?"

"That was the one I let get away."

There is a moment of silence before Damian speaks up. "I demand to be taken out of my misery. Mercy, kill me now, Drake."

[lemonlover1110]

toji taking care of sick reader please!!

love your works sm<3

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

“Babe!” You yell, a tissue up your nostril and a blanket wrapped around your body as you tremble in the cold. Toji’s become your caretaker, and has taken over all your tasks ever since you woke up with a sore throat and a stuffy nose.

It’s only been one day, and Toji feels like he’s lost his mind. 

“What do you need? It isn’t soup time.” He’s cold towards you. He barely cracks the door open, and he wears a mask and gloves even when he isn’t going into the room. Toji isn’t a germaphobe, but seeing what this cold has done to you scares him.

You’re the strongest woman Toji knows, yet you can barely keep your eyes open. What would the nasty virus do if it got to him? There’s no way he’s risking getting sick.

“I want cuddles!” You whine, and he rolls his eyes at how clingy you become overnight. You’ve never asked for cuddles while you’re healthy. It must be the nasty virus changing your behavior. “Please!”

“No way in hell.” He responds, shutting the door. He does feel guilty because he wants to give you all the possible love that he can, but he can’t. Would it be that big of a problem if he got himself sick?

He shakes his head, no way he’s going in there. It’s like sleep training your child, you must let them cry themselves to sleep. It’s best if he starts getting your dinner ready instead. Maybe he’ll make a soup version of your favorite meal, his way of telling you that he’s sorry.

“Toji!” You cry out, and he tries to drown out the sound of your voice. The task becomes increasingly harder for him until he freezes. He takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes. He takes one last good breath of air because god knows the next time he’ll do it.

“I’m coming, baby!” He yells, taking off any precaution that he’s taken before jumping into bed with you. He wraps his arms around you, lips kissing all over your face as if he wasn’t terrified of it a couple of minutes ago. 

“What kind of soup do you want?” He asks, and you smile at him. Snooty tissues and all, he loves you.

[disappointment-comics]

i think i’m just sad that none of them got to grow before they died

luther was still living in the manor, which he’s always done for his whole life. so much of his arc has been about outgrowing this place and learning to leave. but he still winds up in the ruins of the place he grew up in. i could’ve believed it as a character choice IF we hadn’t already seen luther figure out how to live independently in the world in dallas. instead it was a regression

diego deserved to break the cycle of abuse!! he’s always been softer than he lets himself be, the role of father should’ve been a really big thing for him. and yet he ends the season without his kids and with the whole mess with lila and five. they spent the whole season trying to convince me he was a loser and a failure when he seemed really normal and trying his best. which is exactly what he was as a child, designated number 2 and never good enough.

i was a big s3 allison defender but then they did NOTHING with all the big swings they took with her character, so it was all for nothing?? ray walks out?? (which seems so ooc for him but i guess it was an actor scheduling thing) no conflict with claire very little resolution with her family and no introspection into what her choices and control issues mean for her.

klaus had this whole storyline with his powers and then didn’t get to use them at all… like that’s literally insane. it felt like they were really setting klaus up to reflect on his relationship to addiction and the parts that are and are not related to his powers, but then it just stops. he doesn’t apologize, he doesn’t get comforted, doesn’t learn to save himself, and he just dies, which is such a waste of a character that’s always represented an interesting blurring of life and death. i really would’ve liked to see klaus get some autonomy this season, since so much of his life is other factors making decisions for him, but nope.

five. i don’t even think i have to say anything here.

ben loses so much character autonomy halfway through this season. he’s another character who’s always been at the mercy of others, maybe most of all, and he doesn’t even feel like a main character in the season ABOUT him.

viktor has some moments with getting to confront reggie, but even those fell flat for me tbh. the line from reggie saying “you deserved to wear the mask” just proves that none of them ever understood that NONE of those children should’ve been in the masks in the first place. vik had built a genuinely good life for himself and didn’t get to keep it. dying as an umbrella martyr is not revolutionary when they’ve all been doing that their whole lives. living as a happy, normal person is actually much more radical. also he should’ve got his violin back.

[celestialprincesse]

I’m not sure if you’ll write for Nikto or maybe even angst? Need to feel something, ignore if you’re not comfortable!

I was thinking neighbor!Nikto x civilian hyper fem!reader she just wants to get close to this masked, mean older man but he doesn’t want to hurt this sweet lil thing that’s always so loving towards him and the thought is scaring them away because of the way he looks TERRIFIES the poor man :(

Always down for when you write König. Love your lil wrinkly brain and all its ideas and words. Mwuah! Smooch!

how have I never written him before omg? I need to write more Nik & König💖 I cannot write angst for shit but pls enjoy n e ways 💕

You're on his doorstep again. Another plate too. Nikto knows, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he should try and ignore you - maybe pretend that no one's home, not that he'd really be able to get that by you when his car is parked in the driveway and the lights are on. With a sigh, the front door is opened, and you're faced with the unmoving presence of your new neighbour, a balaclava covering most of his face, a black hoodie pulled on over top just for good measure.

"You are here again." He observes flatly, unable to contain the way his eyes widen as you bounce from foot to foot in your frilly little skirt. "I bought sharlotka!" You chirp, having practised the Russian pronunciation as you baked the cake, and on the short walk over to his home. Nikto observes the cake with a scrutinising eye before hesitantly inviting you into his home. Shame burns his features when he can't help but to stare at your ass as you make your way inside. "Yes. I can see that."

You refuse to let his indifferent tone deter you as you place the plate down on his table, before just sort of lingering awkwardly in his kitchen, holding the plate of cake out to him like an offering. "I will bring you back the plate tomorrow." Is his obvious dismissal, which has you scurrying back to his front door, waving a clearly disappointed goodbye.

You're not so easy to get rid of.

The next time you see him is in the grocery store, an ideal location for your flawless plan to unfold. Kind of flawless. Not really very well thought out but you're desperate to win his attention. If that means baking so many Russian desserts that they're up to your ears, or conveniently cornering him in the store, that's what you'll do. "I'm so sorry!" The sound of your squeak rings in Nikto's ears as he turns around with lightning speed to steady your shoulders. You like the way his hands envelop your entire pink-clad biceps as he frowns down at you. "Hello, again." The way your ears perk up at his thickly accented voice doesn't go missed by Nikto, and he allows himself to wish, just for a moment, that he could have you as his. He wonders what it would be like to shop for groceries with you, to go home and stock the fridge. He wonders whether you'd let him bend you over the kitchen countertop or fuck you in nothing but the frilly pink apron he's seen you wear through your kitchen window. You're far too precious for that. Far too pretty for a man like him. So why do you keep coming back, stupid girl.

"I made stroganoff." You chirp, shooting him your best puppy eyes, trying to find a chip in the armour that must be there somewhere. He is, after all, just a man. "That is nice." He grunts, handing you back your basket, taking a step back. Maybe if he stays away from you physically, his mind will follow suit. "I was wondering if you'd like to come over for dinner. With me."

God, he'd love to come for dinner with you. He'd like to help set the table, and eat a hearty meal prepared by someone who cares for him enough to learn to cook the meals he ate as a child. He'd love to spend the evening with you, bring you a nice bottle of wine and wrap his arms around your waist as you tidy up, press kisses down the back of your neck and smell your sweet perfume up close.

"I am busy tonight."

[shotmrmiller]

@magicislikelove said pathetic!simon with single mom reader.

pathetic!simon sees you the first time when you move in, dragging a heavy box through to your door, and he is enthralled.

he also doesn't move to help you because the grunts that escape your lips from the effort set his loins ablaze.

your flushed skin glistening with sweat— a rosy hue across your face, perspiration dripping from your temple down to your chin, where it collects like dew drops. (he wonders if you taste like brine, or sweet like golden wheat)

the swell of your soft hips peeking from under your damp shirt that rides up whenever you bend down to get a good grip on the edges of the cardboard box. (he wishes those dainty fingers would caress his scarred back, leaving trails of red in their wake)

every noise that spills from your bow-shaped lips the color of petals sends a lick of pleasure up his spine, white-hot and agonizing. (what he wouldn't do for you to spit into his mouth, or maybe just on him altogether and make him clean it up)

he watches you raise your arms to pull your sweaty hair away from your face with delicate hands— slender, fragile wrists twisting it into a makeshift sloppy bun. (would you tug on his hair like that? would you pull until you felt the cropped strands pop from his scalp?)

and then you look up and notice him standing in the hallway, right by his front door. your eyes lock onto his, and he feels the oxygen in his lungs being siphoned away.

"uh, hi."

his breath lodges in his throat, or maybe it's spit because he's spinning on the balls of his feet, his back to you as he barks out dry coughs until he can breathe again.

"are... are you alright?" the slight worry in your voice has his cock twitching.

he'd be better if he could use that shirt you're currently wearing as a mask— the wet spots right over his crooked nose.

"yes. sorry. i'm a little ill," he hoarsely utters before turning back around to face you. "it's just a mild cough, so i can help ya with tha', if ya like." his head tips toward the box he's been watching you fight with for the past half-hour.

"i'd, i mean, yeah...okay." he doesn't care that you sounded almost coerced, simon moves with the speed he uses in the field, and is by your side in seconds, hoisting up the box wordlessly.

he stares at you, waiting for you to turn around and invite him into your home.

"uhm, right this way," you push open the door quietly, and point at the kitchen floor. "there please."

simon does as you say, (like a good boy, he thinks, won't you let him be your good boy?) when he hears a child's cries come from behind a closed door.

"ah, duty calls. i really do appreciate you helping me," you give him a small grin. "i'll see you around, yeah?"

simon slowly nods at you before turning to leave, opening your front door when he notices that you've begun to walk toward your wailing offspring. (he didn't see a ring on your finger)

he discreetly swipes the scented plug-in (just a touch too hot in his roughened palm) by the door and heads toward his own flat.

simon doesn't even fully undress, just hastily undoes the button of his jeans and lets them drop mid-thigh before he slams his back on the living room wall and begins to unscrew the plug-in.

the slick, hot, aromatic oil pulls a sibilant hiss from his thin, chapped lips as it touches the sensitive skin of his meaty cock and lathers himself in it with a couple of experimental strokes.

he squeezes the base of it, encircling it with his large hand, so tight it hurts.

that's what you'd feel like around him.

simon grips himself and starts to fuck his fist— choppy, desperate thrusts that has his toes curling in his muddy, creased boots.

his hand is calloused, just on the edge of too rough, but it doesn't stop him from imagining it's you that's on his cock, bouncing on it with fervor.

his nostrils sting with the overwhelming smell of the oil even through the thick fabric of his mask— a heady mix of lavender and vanilla— and it makes his head spin.

the web space between his thumb and pointer drags along his frenulum, and white spots dance behind his eyelids. sweat beads his brow as he gets closer to his end, the ecstasy coursing through his veins threatening to consume him whole.

simon replays the sounds you made earlier in his head, and for once, it drowns out the usual low ringing in his ears, intensifying his arousal.

he's pumping himself roughly now, fast and jerky as he rears his peak.

would you let him come inside of you? paint your silken walls with his unworthy spend?

when he thinks of you trying to hook your ankles at the base of his spine to keep him deep inside of you as he tries to weakly pull out is what breaks him.

his cock spasms as thick spurts of warm cum dribble all over his scarred knuckles and pants.

simon's hand is slippery as he continues to pump his softening length, and squeezes right under his flared head, the remnants of his pleasure beading at the tip.

his gait is awkward, and stiff as he waddles toward the kitchen with his trousers still by his wide, hairy thighs— plugging in the wall scent on his way there.

unbeknownst to him, he was giving you that kubrick stare and it made the hair on the back of your neck stand on end.

you also thanked the stars that he wasn't a serial killer.

[kainagant]

i think chisaki kai was in some way supposed to be interpreted as eri if she wasn't saved. the child experimentation backstory, the utter lack of joy in anything, the loss of innocence. the way that when chisaki talks to eri it almost sounds like he's just echoing something that was once said to him. the way that even pops seemed to think that chisaki and eri's situations with their quirks were similar.

most importantly, was the fact that chisaki spent the entire arc wearing a mask. we never saw his mouth. even in the flashbacks where he wasn't wearing a mask, his face was blotted out by shadow. so here's the thing: the focal point of the subsequent school festival arc was "eri hasn't been saved yet, she hasn't yet learned how to smile". here's another thing: we never see chisaki smile. if anything, the very suggestion of a smile is preemptively invalidated by the fact that he's always covering his mouth up.

maybe i'm just reading too much into something that clearly horikoshi has no intention of touching on himself. but i've always thought that the significance of chisaki's mouth being concealed is that it's a metaphor for his inability to smile.

he's so far beyond the point whereas he could have been "saved", when he could have learned to smile and find the little joys in life, that he no longer even has a mouth to learn how to smile with.

[some-pers0n]

I'm gonna be blunt and say that I really don't think a lot of people kinda get these two characters. Sure, yeah, there'll be people like "Psshh no?? Me?? I know exactly who these guys are" and like, yeah maybe you do. Maybe you'll read this while nodding your head and whatnot. Maybe you won't.

Either way, I think there's a decent amount of people who don't...get Qibli and Winter. I mainly see it in shipping stuff. I know it's kinda idiotic to go looking for character stuff in shipping-- you know what?? No. I think it's perfectly sound logic to try and look for meaningful character writing in ship stuff, especially with fanfics. I've got that aroace mindset where I can only comprehend a ship if it has a clear and exact thematical and character-driven purpose.

Anywho, I think there's something to be craved with how Qinter is talked about in the fandom. I think there's something in general to be desired when discussing Qibli and Winter in general (or, hell, most of the characters) or other ships they're in, but I want to discuss Qinter mainly as a means to view them through the lens of a relationship. Some sort of duo and pair. Two young dragonets trying to survive.

Winter and Qibli come from incredibly similar backgrounds. That sounds ridiculous at a first glance, but when you think about it, they do. They both were raised with terrible parents who held them to an unrealistic standard that neither really wanted to be.

Winter was forced to become a child soldier and be the best of the best, despite his best rightfully not being absolutely perfect and having a ton of heart and soul in him. Ironically enough, his sheer loyalty to his friends that he displays later would be commended in the IceWing army, but is only looked down upon because he's showing anything other than pure apathy at existence and disgust when confronted with the other tribes. Winter is a kind soul who was shaped and twisted into becoming somebody far meaner to fit the idea of what his parents wanted him to be. It's a mask he wears to fit in. To be at least be tolerated by the dragons he only wants the approval from.

Qibli was raised in the slums of Scorpion Den. The back alleys and dark, seedy streets that are avoided. He had to fit the build of a thief. A petty pickpocket that lurks around like his family, doing nothing more than swiping whatever goods they could get their hands on. Qibli was kind and sweet, which obviously was a terrible sin in the eyes of his family. Like Winter, this planted a seed of wanting to be loved, although to a significantly larger extent than Winter felt. Qibli became obsessed with the idea of being loved as he hated being seen as nothing. He wanted nothing more than to be praised and admired because of just how neglected he was. So, he pretends to be somebody likable. Somebody who others care about. A mask to conceal the dragon he feels can never be loved.

Because of their backgrounds, they feel at odds when they're introduced to one another. Qibli is the laid-back jokester type while Winter is snarly and angry. Thanks to Moon's powers though, we get a look into them even before their book.

We see that Qibli is paranoid and his brain is constantly trying to predict others. He's always in a state of stress and fear, putting on a performance to try and be liked and see which dragons are the biggest threats to him. He's never gotten used to living outside of the crime-filled Scorpion Den, and the memories of childhood where he had to lay awake thinking that some dragon who his mother stole from will murder them all in their sleep remain. He's scared and afraid.

Winter managed to convince himself that he is this mean and nasty dragon, but really he's not. There's moments of hesitancy in MR from him. He's also just. generally not really that much in the wrong in the book. Sorry my Winter Apologist side is coming out but y'all hate too much on a character who was just kinda mean for some random dragon he only knew for a couple days at most by then doing stuff that was very suspicious. Yeah obviously Moon is the protagonist and we like her and know the full context, but Winter?? He doesn't know anything!

I digress however. They're in. not the best of states. Sure, yeah, Qibli had ran from Vulture and Cobra and was now Thorn's adoptive son of sorts, but he was obsessed with Thorn to the point of almost blind worship. He hailed her as some grand dragon because he had never been loved before. Being loved by somebody felt incomprehensible. He wants to repay it since he feels like he doesn't deserve it.

Winter on the other hand has just gotten away from a terrible situation, where his family more or less just hates him. They hate him so much it's not even funny. Winter had gotten Hailstorm, somebody who Winter loved and admired, was stolen away by the SkyWings and presumed dead for years because of him. He blames himself. He constantly thinks that he should've been the one taken away instead. He doesn't see himself worthy to live, especially not compared to Hailstorm. Hailstorm is charming, smart, strong, and better in every capacity to Winter. How could he ever live up to that?

Their shared flaw is that they feel inadequate. They feel as though there's something inherently flawed with themselves, something that they need to hide away. It was shaped because of their similar backstories, where they were neglected and abused and put down because of them never being able to meet the unreasonable expectations placed on them. Because of this trauma, their personalities in the present are shaped to try and fit in.

It's only by being with the Jade Winglet do they begin to unlearn those habits. I would imagine that, in moments where they chat with each other for the first real time (not fighting or anything), they...notice how alike they are. Like holding up a mirror to themselves. Despite how differing their personalities are, they feel one in the same. The other side of the coin.

It's why I think Qinter really works as something more than a cheap means for comedic relief. They bounce off each other really well and in an interesting way, which makes for their interactions feeling a lot more meaningful when they put away the act and show and are genuine. I honestly think that they would want to help each other out. They see themselves in the other and don't want them to feel like they have to do this, but they can't even save themselves.

It's only with time however. Healing is a process. It's sure as hell hard to do it all alone. It's why I love a lot the themes of friendship and togetherness in arc 2 especially. All of the POVs learn how to be more confident and sure of themselves through their friends. I just wish that Qinter was talked about in a more intellectually stimulating way than "yellow boy laughs at blue boy for being angsty teen"

[calmcoldevening]

Hiii I love your writing could I maybe request some slashers with a s/o who has insomnia

(Add rz Michael and Bubba please

You can add other slashers to)

Oh kitten, thank you for your request ♡︎ I hope it could make you feel better and help to sleep. These boys are all for you

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Slashers with s/o who has insomnia

Characters: Michael Myers (RZ), Bubba Sawyer, Hannibal Lecter, Mark Hoffman

Warnings: mention of cannibalism (just a little, because it's Bubba), insomnia, just problems with sleep, but I tried to make it hurt/comfort

Ps: English is not my native language, so sorry for misspells

Michael Myers

• Expressing emotions towards another person is clearly not Michael's strong point. But when it comes to you... It's something else.

• At first, he didn't pay much attention to your condition, or rather, he just didn't know yet that such apathy and nervousness is something bad. Michael just thought he wasn't used to you yet.

• But still something made him think about it.

• As soon as Michael got used to physical contact, he literally began to feel a hunger for touch. He wanted to touch you, hug you and just feel your tender skin on his rough one. A man slept with you. When he was sure that you were deep asleep and would not notice it, he pressed his huge body against yours like a frightened kitten. He was desperately clutching the fabric of your pajamas, sinking into a restless sleep.

• But that has changed now. You went to bed late, if you went to bed at all, and sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night. Now Michael was falling asleep without your little figure next to him. It was like this.. alien and unpleasant.

• It seemed eerily wrong. You spent less time with him and seemed to be flying in your thoughts all the time, although in fact your body was just trying not to switch off due to lack of sleep. Michael became more aggressive and killed his victims with greater brutality.

• But as soon as the usual veil of anger fell away, and his pitch-black eyes turned soft blue again, Michael noticed in your gaze.. sadness? despair? His heart squeezed a little. Then he really thought about your condition. It probably happened a month after your days became more frequent with insomnia. And he really didn't know what to do.

• But Michael is a smart boy, he found a way out. How easy it was to watch old Loomis for a few days, who, probably because of his work, often experienced insomnia. How to solve this problem? Michael watched the man through the window. Pills? Michael hates pills, and he doesn't want you to become addicted to them in any way. Doctor's visit? Michael wouldn't really want you to have contact with another person, especially if it's a man. Just thinking about it made Michael's heart ache.

• But how does he cope with stress himself? Now he takes out all his accumulated anger and emotions in murders. A knife in his hand and someone else's blood on it cause a man a pleasant wave of trembling. But you can't kill. No, he will never allow you, his fragile flower, to get your soft, tender hands in someone else's vile blood and flesh.

• Although as a child, when he was sad or bad, Michael ate candy... Indeed, sweets. Perhaps it is sweets that will help you cope with stress. It seems that chocolate causes the production of serotonin?

• You were sitting in the bedroom and reading a book, or rather, trying to. Everything was in a fog in my head, and the letters occasionally floated before my eyes, but as soon as your head touched the pillow, drowsiness immediately disappeared, as if it had never existed. Flipping through the next page, you look up and notice the giant figure of your boyfriend in the doorway. Surprisingly, he is wearing his still clean overalls and an orange papier-mache mask. Dirty blonde hair falls gracefully over his broad shoulders. You can't read his stoic expression, but you can see him hiding something behind his back. When you finally pay attention to him, Michael starts walking slowly in your direction. He climbs onto the bed, the mattress will crumple under his weight. Next to your side, he puts a bag with a lot of sweets, and he grabs your legs and climbs between them. The man gently squeezes your hips and puts his head on your lower abdomen, gently rubbing his nose against your skin through your clothes. Like a kitten. Michael was not a fan of soulful conversations, so he preferred actions and touches. You glance briefly at the package and notice inside, in addition to sweets, a small note. Clumsy and a little sloppy, as if written in a child's handwriting: "Hug me if you can't sleep. I'm near."You smile, and your heartbeat quickens. You gently touch Michael's tangled hair with your fingers, starting to slowly stroke them. It's relaxing. I could swear that a long purr is coming from the chest of this giant.

Bubba Sawyer

• Bubba started to worry a lot when he found out about your insomnia. He begins to take care of you and shield you from stress in every possible way.

• When the Sawyers need to deal with uninvited guests, you are usually sent for a short walk with one of the brothers so that you don't worry about strong screams. Or you're just out in the backyard enjoying a warm Texas day.

• Bubba gives you a lot of hugs. Very much. At night, he does not let you out of his arms, fearing that something might happen to you. He is very attentive. A man always makes sure that when you go to bed, the room is cool and dark, and the sheets are soft and pleasant to sleep on.

• Before going to bed, you definitely take a walk in the garden. Even if he is tired, Bubba will still sit with you on the grass, admiring the stars and gently squeezing your little neat hand. He values you very much.

• Bubba will also try to give you lighter food. No hard-to-digest human meat and barbecue, just fruits and vegetables.

• By nature a gentle and simple person, Bubba will give you a mug of warm milk before going to bed. They always gave it to him when he was little, and he fell asleep quickly.

• When the two of you go to bed, Bubba cuddles you to her, making soothing sounds and mumbling like a lost puppy. He clings to you and tries to show you all his love and comfort.

• Bubba has big and strong hands. So in the evenings, about two or three times a week, he gives you a relaxing massage. Trust me, he does it like a real professional. These hardened by long years of hard work can do a lot.

• Bubba will try to talk about your problem with Drayton. Bubba really wants to help you. Even if it means you have to leave him. Bubba will try to persuade Drayton to take you to the city to see a doctor. He loves you so much, his sunshine, the man doesn't want you to suffer.

Hannibal Lecter

• You periodically had trouble sleeping, but you didn't want to bother the Lecturer with this. After all, he has enough problems of his own, besides, he is a psychiatrist and deals with the problems of his patients, he does not need to worry about you once again.

• So you thought when another sleepless night came.

• You were quietly sitting on the windowsill in the bedroom and listening to music. Hannibal, as always, lingered in the office, so you were completely immersed in your thoughts. The light melody somehow reduced the unpleasant heaviness of your head. It seems that you wanted to sleep, but at the same time, your brain did not want to turn off in any way. There was a strange emptiness inside.

• Being in your thoughts, you didn't notice how a big but gentle hand touched your shoulder. Lifting your head up, your eyes instantly met his — bottomless and dark, like thick blood. The man's eyebrows moved slightly to the bridge of his nose, and he gave you a quick glance from the bottom up.

• "Why aren't you sleeping?" His gaze slid to his wristwatch, "It's one o'clock in the morning, dear."

• The answer was only your empty, uncertain look. The man instantly connected the dots, sighing heavily. "Insomnia?" A slight nod. Hannibal gently touches your chin with his fingers, stroking the skin and leaning his forehead against yours. "You should have told me earlier, honey. I'm a psychiatrist."

• After a couple of minutes, your tired body was already peacefully resting in Hannibal's arms. He carried you to the bathroom, sitting you on the edge of the tub and slowly starting to draw hot water. The man added a little lavender oil and a nice soft bubble bath. As soon as your body touched the cherished warmth, a blissful sigh escaped from your chest. A smile touched Hannibal's lips.

• "That's it dear. Close those beautiful eyes of yours," he almost sang in his sweet, slightly hoarse voice as he sat down on the side of the tub. He rolled up his sleeves and took some shampoo, starting to wash your hair. His movements are precise, gentle, soothing. Your eyes slowly close, as if filled with lead, and your heart begins to beat in a calmer rhythm. It was so sweet of him. This man knows exactly what he's doing. A little later, he massages your shoulders and neck, relaxing the muscles tense after long sleepless nights. The subtle scent of lavender and his firm hands created a pleasant duet in your mind, starting to slowly put you to sleep. It's as if in one moment all that stress disappeared from your soul, being replaced by a clear lack of sleep.

• "That's it, honey. Let me take care of my love."

• After a while, Hannibal will help you get out of the bath and put on clean pajamas consisting of your favorite shorts and his loose shirt. He knows that his things make you feel comfortable and safe.

• Under his careful guidance, you will slowly return to bed. Cool sheets on your hot skin after a bath now seem like a real paradise. Sleep begins to slowly take over your mind as Hannibal's arms gently wrap around your smaller body.

• "Sweet dreams, darling."

Mark Hoffman

• Mark knew well what it meant to have trouble sleeping. Because of all his work and the Designer, he was often stressed and could not sleep peacefully.

• So when he noticed you had insomnia, it really started to worry him. Not to say that Mark was a very gentle and kind partner, but he tries. Therefore, first of all, Mark will certainly take you to the doctor and use any possible method of treating your insomnia, no matter if it is a special massage or medications.

• In addition, Mark knows that, first of all, insomnia occurs against a background of great stress and excitement. Therefore, he will try to give you maximum support. A man will try to do most of the housework, not allowing you not to overwork. He will do his best to give you support, both physical and emotional.

• Every evening certainly ends with a warm hug. You know, in his big hands you will really feel loved and safe. You can sit in the living room and watch some quiet movie. Or you will just lie together in the bedroom: there is a subdued light around, the moon shines softly through the window, gently tracing his rough features with a milky white light; you lie wrapped in a soft blanket in his arms, Mark's head rests on top of your head. You can talk about the past day or just be silent, enjoying each other's company. After a while, he will begin to gently hum some kind of lullaby, from which you will wearily close your eyes. In his hands, you have nothing to worry about. He will always be with you, no matter what.

• "I promise you that it's going to be okay, we will get through this together."

• Often your evenings can end with a mug of hot herbal tea. Warm drinks are always soothing, so he can try.

• You may notice one more detail. When you try to fall asleep with him, he deliberately presses you closer to him. His shirt smells like lavender. The delicate scent of the flower pleasantly tickles your nose, causing a smile. Surprisingly, your brain calms down, you begin to feel sleepy. Mark specially bought a new lavender laundry conditioner, knowing that it could help you calm down.

• Every day he will constantly remind you how important you are to him. If he leaves for work before you, he leaves different stickers with inscriptions all over the house. On the refrigerator, on the bathroom mirror, on the bedside table. "It's not your fault you have insomnia, baby. You're important to me. I love you very much. You're doing enough. I'm proud of you." While at work, he often sends you cute messages and pictures. And although he himself is not strong in such things as romance, the fact that he sees your smile encourages him to try even harder.

• Mark buys you big stuffed animals so you have someone to cuddle with while he's at work. There are also lots of milkshakes in the fridge now, and there are different teas in the cupboard to help you relax. And although he tries not to give you a lot of sweets, he buys your favorite fruits and nuts to adjust your nutrition.

• He really cares and cares about you. Mark will try to do everything in his power to help you, dear.

[dairy-farmer]

I hope I'm not bothering you, I'm the anon who recc'ed that fic about Damian managing to kill Tim, but since I know you like multi verse stuff, how do you think a canon bat clan ending up in an alternate world where Tim died by Damian's hand would go?

Dick's heartbreak, torn between defending Damian from everyone who views him as a monster instead of the traumatized kid he is and wanting to have a break down over the way his counterpart clings to his Tim. The uncomfortable shift of their Damian and Tim, who, depending on what you want, who either still have a strained relationship with semi-frequent murder (but growing more and more half hearted as time goes on) or a Damian and Tim who have reconciled, something tense between them. Bruce, who can't speak, can't breath at the idea of loosing his Tim, his rock, his anchor, his baby, Tim to his youngest son Damian, who he loves deeply regardless of how he struggles to show it.

Or maybe a world where Jason killed Tim and never came back into the fold, having killed a child. Even if Batman wanted to welcome him back, the hero community kept him locked up tight- after all. Hero killers rarely walk free, never free from their sins, particularly when it's a child killed. Guilt haunts this verison of Jason. Oh, for a long time Jason didn't care but civilians never stopped treating him like he was a true super villian like the Joker or Black Mask. Child are taught to fear him and run and hide from him. After all, if he could break Robin, torture a child to death with all Robin's training, what chance did a normal child did? And with Batman retired for good, and Nightwing on the warpath, Jason can barely walk down the street after any escape attempts before superman drags him back to the meta containment facility.

When canon Jason meets this broken man/child, he shivers in fear. Knowing if he had slit Tim's throat a little deeper, or if help can taken a little long to arrive this could have been him.

And Tim, imagine how it affects him seeing how deeply he's missed by his family. How loved he is. How deeply his death breaks his family. The angst is so good!! <3

i love this so much!!!!!!!!!!! 😍😍😍!! and of course it isn't a bother!!!!

the bats encountering a universe where tim DID end up dying as a result of damian or jason's attempts on his life would for sure be a very uncomfortable experience all around. them finding out tim was dead would automatically trigger their defense response.

watching as a...washed out looking dick grayson shakily cups tim's face while looking like he's on the verge of tears. the moment they land in this alternate universe they know something is up. dick is wearing the suit. that immediatly sets off red flags because bruce's stint through time is fresh in their memories. but maybe the universe is just...behind. their key events are slightly off in timing or maybe the loss of bruce in their universe is permanent. but then they arrive to the cave and are greeted by a grim faced bruce.

and they find out bruce is retired, that he doesn't go out as batman anymore that he's...given up the mantle permanently to dick. and dick sees that and feels a pit form in his stomach at the thought of being batman full time forever.

and they know something's wrong, deeply wrong they can tell from the way batman-dick had hesitated at the sight of them and brokenly called out "tim?".

it's uncomfortable for everyone to see a near tears dick grayson, to see how he's fussing over tim and clearly desperatly trying to keep himself together. bruce too. bruce isn't even hiding his staring and there's such a deep and complex expression of grief on his face and clearly they've entered a universe that has had a bit of a bad break.

they figure out tim is dead pretty quickly without even having to ask.

they suspect it from the initial meeting but its confirmed when they see tim's suit in its own case in the cave.

generally bats aren't comfortable with alternate universe versions of themselves running around so batman-dick is planning on helping them find a way home once he gathers himself up a bit more.

so they realize and sadly acknowledge tim has died. all signs point to it. and they think of the rogues, of the cults, villains, and maniacs that might be responsible for it and stand a little closer to tim.

but then dick and bruce's sharp eyes shoot to damian when he moves.

it takes a little longer to pick up on the hostility. dick hides his dislike for others well but they know him well and see the way his expression strains when he has to speak to damian, the way he looks at damian, the way he tenses when damian gets close to tim.

they know the bruce of this universe sees it and they watch his reaction how he looks pained and resigned and how he..says nothing.

the longer they're there the more agitated batman-dick grows. hostile, sometimes even snapping at damian for the smallest infractions.

they see how damian is uncomfortable, how he quickly hides his hurt at being treated like this by any version of dick grayson.

but dick is then sweet to tim, gentle, like he's made of glass and clearly so protective of him, trying to edge him away from damian and keep him beside him.

and their dick of course defends damian, gets into more than one biting argument with batman-dick over his hostility and snapping. and...it gets ugly.

and...they knew something was wrong. that something had happened to this universe's tim and that damian had something to do with it. but it gets confirmed when batman-dick suddenly snaps, immeasurably furious at their dick and starts yelling. starts accusing him of his blindness and naivety, that he was like him once, thinking he could help damian, that he could fix him. he made the mistake of being kind to damian wayne, taking him into their home, giving him robin and how did that beat repay him?? by killing his only brother.

and batman's rage suddenly slips away like it was a mask barely clinging to his face and suddenly his grief strick and angry bitter tears are streaming down his face. and he turns to tim, beseeching and desperate with his arms reaching out like a child does to their parent with a cry of "tim!". and tim is not heartless, he sees his sobbing brother reaching out for him and obviously opens his arms, lets a sobbing dick grayson cling to him as he lets out chest trembling sobs. his arms cling to him and tim wraps his arms around dick's shoulders, one hand immediatly strong the back of his hair and brushing his dark curls while shushing him in a low voice telling him its alright, its okay, you're okay.

and tim's dick who'd just been in batman-dick's face is frozen, his face looks like he's just swallowed something that is crawling around in his stomach. he looks unsure, like he wants to say more to defend damian but then hesitating and glancing at tim unsurely.

even when they're back home they can't shake what they witnessed. damian and tim had never truly gotten close. sometimes there were days they were both in good moods and joked together but more often if either of them had a bad day they took it out on the other and it did very little to foster good will between them.

damian is shaken. he learns that the damian of that universe had succeeded in killing his timothy drake and the result is...not what he expected. he is a pariah in that universe. the pennyworth of that universe implied that damian had an apartment in gotham he lived alone in that he and father visited him at weekly to spend time with and also deliver food and pennyworth had said it like it was a natural normal thing. but the thought filled damian with such a deep dread that he walked on eggshells even days after their return. damian had never stopped to consider what killing timothy drake would entail. in the league it would be glory and inheritance of his titles, land, possessions, and wife.

in that universe...where he suceeded. all it brought him was disdain. the reluctant love of a father who could hardly even bare to look at damian for long before glancing away. the burning hatred of his brother.

and damian tried to hold back the pained choke at recalling those dark eyes locked on him with sheer disgust and anger every time he opened his mouth.

damian tries to put it out of his mind. tries to pretend like he's not avoiding drake and subtly avoiding being alone with him. he doesn't know why he feels so guarded like he might be caught doing something wrong. because he hasn't done anything wrong. damian hasn't killed drake and yet...

he feels eyes on him whenever he and timothy are together. father has ceased shuffling patrol and now damian patrols with either him, grayson, or todd. but not timothy.

damian feels the sting of hurt at the suspicion, at the "precautions" father has begun taking. he feels like he's been found guilty of a crime he never committed and yet...hadn't he tried?

if things were a little differently. if timothy were a fraction slower, the wind slightly harder, damian a little faster...

that could've been him.

[naivegh0ul]

Could you possibly do a soap platonic fic where ghost has a 9 year old daughter and she is the total opposite of ghost, she just rambles and she meets soap at base and they instantly become infatuated with each other and ghost finds them talking about sharks in immense detail to each other???

Oh my gosh that is such a cute idea! 🥹🥹🥹

Soap had no idea Ghost had a daughter. I mean, why would he, of all people, have a kid? Ghost is a lone wolf, "I work alone," may as well be his catchphrase at this point.

So, one night when the squad goes out for drinks, Ghost having been forced to come, Soap is curious as Ghost gets a call. Soap was surprised Ghost even had a phone, he just imagined he brought a radio everywhere with him, like the strict soldier he is.

Soap watched as Ghost stepped away from the bartop, murmuring a low, "Hey, sweetheart." into his phone. He assumed that maybe Ghost had a girl back home, but when Soap listened in further, he was shocked.

"I know, I know. Daddy will be home soon, alright? Behave for the babysitter. Alright, I love you too, sweetheart. Bye."

Wow, was all Soap could think. No way The Ghost has a child. Impossible, simply impossible. But, the way Ghost spoke to whoever was on the other line...

Soap had to investigate this.

For the next few weeks, Soap kept a close eye on Ghost, trying to listen in on his phone calls, peering around him when he was texting someone.

It was a little creepy, yeah, but Soap needed to know whether or not Ghost actually has a little mini-me or not.

Ghost seemed a little off one day, constantly on his phone, being mean to the recruits, (Well, meaner than usual.) It got Soap curious again. Ghost left the base around 2pm, and Soap watched with raised eyebrows.

To his knowledge, Ghost hadn't been called out on a mission, and he had left the base wearing civilian clothes, this all got the wheels turning in Soap's brain.

Ghost came back around 4pm, and Soap immediately went to greet him. Then, he saw it. Actually, he saw her. A little girl, huddled behind Ghost's back, clutching onto his jacket with a shark plushie in her small hand.

The little girl looked up at Soap with wide eyes, a twinkle of curiosity visible. "Hey, lass, I'm Soap. What's your name?" Soap said. The girl glanced up at Ghost as if to see if it was okay to talk to the strange man, and Ghost nodded down at her.

"Beth." She answered, smiling a little up at Soap. "Do you like sharks?" Beth pointed at Soap's mohawk, clearly thinking that it looked like a shark fin.

Ghost chuckled under breath, and Soap nodded. "I do. Does this little fella have a name?" Soap crouched down in front of Beth and gestured to the shark plushie she was holding.

"Sharkie!" Beth exclaimed with a happy smile. She seemed excited to be talking about her plushie. Beth toddled over to Soap and held up the toy, showing it to him while telling him facts about sharks.

Soap looked over at Ghost, smiling to himself as he saw the proud look in Ghost's eyes as he stared down at his little girl. Ghost stepped closer to the two and placed a hand on Beth's head before kneeling down.

"Daddy's gotta go finish some work, alright? I'll be back as soon as I can, you stay with Soap." Ghost said, stroking his daughter's hair lovingly. He lent down and pressed a kiss to the top of her head through his mask before walking away.

Soap felt his heart swell with happiness at the thought of Ghost trusting him enough to let him look after his daughter. "Alright, you little menace, what do you say we go get some ice cream?" Soap smiled as the little girl squealed in excitement and nodded, grabbing Soap's hand.

The entire car ride to the ice cream parlour, Beth was chattering away in the backseat, telling Soap all about sharks. "Did you know that baby sharks are called pups? Like little dogs! Isn't that cool?"

Soap pulled into the parking lot and helped Beth out, walking into the shop with her on his hip. "Mr. Soap, can I have chocolate ice cream?" Beth asked. She tugged on Soap's sleeve, looking at him hopefully.

"Of course you can, lass." Soap smiled, ruffling Beth's mousy brown hair. Soap ordered the two of them some ice cream, getting strawberry for himself and chocolate for Beth.

Beth kept talking the whole time, excitedly telling Soap about sharks, and about that one time when Ghost took her to an aquarium and she got to see a shark in person.

"It was so cool! It was kinda big and scary, but I know my Daddy could fight it off." Beth giggled at the story, beaming as she praised her father.

It was cute, to watch this little girl who is somehow Ghost's daughter despite being the complete opposite of him, ramble about sharks. "Do you work with my Daddy, Mr. Soap?" Beth asked curiously as she nibbled on her chocolate ice cream, smearing some around her lips.

"Yeah, I do. He's my friend, as well." Soap took a bite of his own ice cream, looking over at Beth as she scooped up some of her ice cream and pretending to feed it to her shark plushie, staining the shark's face a little.

Soap checked his watch after a while, his eyes widening as he realised they'd been gone for quite a while. "Let's go back, yeah? I bet Ghost- your dad is missing you." Soap said, catching himself when he referred to Ghost by his callsign, unsure if Beth knew about that.

The girl seemed oblivious and nodded her head, wiping her mouth on her sleeve before she hopped off her chair, shark plushie in hand.

The two headed back to base and Soap took Beth to the 141's common room, putting on some random kids show on the old TV for Beth to watch.

Soap sat back, watching as Beth sat cross legged on the floor and looked up at the TV, watching eagerly as Octonauts played. Beth seemed to be really enjoying the show, giggling loudly, it made Soap smile.

Beth continued to tell Soap about shark facts, pulling one off the top of her head each time a shark would show up on screen. She is actually quite smart, she knows more about sharks than any adult Soap knows.

Neither of them noticed when Ghost entered the room, Soap being too engrossed in the facts Beth is telling him. Ghost watched from the doorway, smiling under his mask as his little girl taught Soap about sharks.

(ok but why is this over 1k words. i think i've become obsessed with parent!ghost and little beth 🥹)

[gofishygo]

yandere ghost headcannons please!

okok to be honest I rarely imagine ghost to be a yandere,, his past was so hard and he most likely has the same fear of repeating the same mistakes of his father !! (plus I want him 2 get the love he deserves) BUT WHEN I CAN IMAGINE HIM AS A YANDERE … chomp munch crunch very very good food 

yan!simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader hcs !!

notes: mentions of trauma (ghost), descriptions of violence, obsession, gn! reader, mostly unedited (bear with me ill actually proofread one day maybe) (684 words)

I do feel like a lot of ghost's more yandere mannerisms would be due to his childhood. He'd never had the chance to be truly innocent, from his abusive father to the cartel that had mercilessly killed the rest of his family, the countless teammates that he had lost, there was always some form of blood on his hands. Years of distrust festered into seething, buried hatred for the amount of ugliness in this world. Burying himself in the only good he could trust in; the suffocating cigarette stained air of Captain Price, the familiar tone of the rugged Scottish accent that came from Soap, Gaz's charming smile.

So when he first meets you, so much more docile and harmless and friendly, never faced with the adversities that Simon had seen in the world, he silently slips your name into his head, keeping that precious string of words in the darkest- yet safest- parts of his brain. You were the light in his eyes that he had lost at an age so young, your presence arranging the constant static and ringing in his ears into a pleasant hum.

You never judge him when he flinches at the hiss of a snake, never belittle him for constantly wearing that cloth mask that concealed half of his face. He avoids it at first, how he relaxes whenever he sees you in the room, how he smiles beneath that mask when you wave at him.

He truly wants to believe it’s just some childish crush, a form of love that could only be protected for a matter of months.. That you were some odd fantasy he had developed due to the plethoras of trauma he had faced. 

But once you have him wrapped around your finger, once you somehow manage to break down the walls that he'd been suffocating in; he'll do anything for you. Cut out his tongue just to see you smile. Tear out his voice box just to your sweet rambles. 

he’s part of the sas; a man who was trained to kill without mercy, shown the tragedies of the world since he was a child. he has no issue dealing with anyone he thinks is bad for you. hell, ghost would protect you from just about anything- he’d do anything, lose anything, to protect you from the world he lived in. the violence he saw.

He thinks he knows what's best for you. Despises those jaded and ungrateful friends you have, how they never even reciprocated any of the care and support you gave. And that boyfriend you had- his sleazy grin and grubby hands all over you- christ, he swears he'll carve out that man's organs once he gets the opportunity.

and that’s when he decides he can’t let you keep mixing with those vermin, endangering yourself without even noticing. of course he believes you deserve far better than him- an eden so much different from the bloodshed and tragedy of this world, where everything was just as wonderful and lovely as you were. But he was the best option to keep you safe, to keep you happy. And he didn’t care how far he had to go due to it- he'd risk his career, his life, everything for you.

The method didn’t matter. Whether he convinced you with smooth words and empty promises or ripped out his intestines to chain you to his side, he was going to make sure that you were safe. That you were his.

So you wake up one day, wrists and ankles bound suffocatingly with rope, the coarse hairs stinging at you skin as you struggle to free yourself from the bedpost you were tied to. You can feel your heart twist in horror as you hear that familiar rough cockney accent. 

“sorry if I tied those ropes too tight,” it smells like ivory, blood. the brown eyes the ones that you had made a home in for the past year you spent with each other stared down at you. That wasn’t simon. That wasn’t simon. That was ghost. “just needed you keep you safe, love.”

[maybe-im-dark]

The birth of Wolverpool

Deadpool zips through the multiverse with his usual panache, feeling pretty good about his little escapade. After the events of the Deadpool & Wolverine movie, he had this insane idea—why not find some more variants of Wolverine? Maybe spice things up, maybe find some new drinking buddies, and, well, maybe just mess with some timelines for the fun of it.

He lands in a bustling new dimension, boots crunching on fresh snow as he adjusts his red and black suit. The landscape looks vaguely familiar—a sprawling Canadian wilderness, of course. Typical Logan. But something’s… off.

Then he sees it. Standing atop a ridge in the distance is… himself? But wait. No. It’s… Wolverpool?

Deadpool’s eyes widen in shock, then gleam with pure joy. He rushes forward.

"Wolverpool, is that you?!" he shouts, practically vibrating with excitement.

Wolverpool, a brawny mix of Wolverine and Deadpool, stands tall. He’s wearing Deadpool’s trademark red-and-black suit, but with the classic Wolverine mask—those iconic pointed black ears stretching out from the sides of his head. There are claws coming out between his knuckles even. Deadpool stops dead in his tracks, dropping to his knees with hands clamped to his face in awe.

"Oh. My. God. I knew my dreams were insane but this—this is beautiful!" Deadpool exclaims, tears of joy threatening to spill. “This is the Deadpool-Wolverine fusion I didn’t know I needed!"

Wolverpool just stares, growling slightly.

"Okay, tough guy, let’s calm down—oh, look at those claws! So sharp! So stabby!" Deadpool reaches toward the claws, then thinks better of it and pulls back with a flourish. “Never mind, no need to lose a finger today."

But then, something catches his eye—a rift in the timeline. A shimmering distortion that beckons to him, curious and teasing. Unable to resist, Deadpool leaps through it with a quick, "Yolo!"

He emerges moments later, slightly disoriented but quickly shaking it off, when he hears some gruff voices ahead. Sneaking around a thick pine tree, he peeks out and sees—himself. And Wolverine.

But wait… Logan's not his usual self. He’s… heavily pregnant?

Deadpool’s jaw drops as he takes in the scene. Wolverine’s cradling his massive belly, leaning against a rock, his face twisted in pain. His breathing is erratic as beads of sweat drip down his furrowed brow. The version of Deadpool in this timeline is holding his hands, trying to help him through labor, though clearly at a loss for what to do.

"Holy chimichangas…" Our Deadpool gasps, slapping a hand over his mouth. He struggles to contain his laughter and amazement, his eyes sparkling with manic glee. "Logan's… in labour?!"

Deadpool can barely handle it. "Oh, this is the greatest thing I’ve ever seen. Forget the rest of the multiverse, I am never leaving this timeline!" he whispers to himself before straightening up and muttering, "Okay, keep it together, Wade. Just—be respectful. It’s a magical moment."

The scene escalates as Wolverine suddenly lets out a roar of agony, his claws instinctively popping out as he clutches his sides.

"Aaaaagh!" Wolverine screams. “This kid better be worth it!”

Pregnant Wolverine's belly tightens, his muscles rippling beneath the surface, and then—like something out of an alien movie—his belly bursts open with a sickening, fleshy pop. Blood splatters, and a small, crying infant crawls its way out of him, slick with fluids.

Our Deadpool nearly passes out. "What the cronenberg!" He stumbles back in disbelief, eyes wide in horror and awe. "Okay, that was NOT on my bingo card."

The alternate Deadpool quickly swoops in, catching the newborn with the reflexes of a practiced lunatic. With surprisingly tender care, he cleans off the tiny child and places it onto Wolverine’s chest, who—already healing—leans back against the rock, looking exhausted but relieved. His body rapidly knits itself back together, the gaping wound closing as if nothing ever happened.

"There you go, Wolvie," alternate Deadpool says with a grin, patting Logan’s shoulder. "Congratulations, papa. You’ve done good." He gestures to the baby on Wolverine's chest. "Our little bundle of chaos. Takes after both of us, huh?"

Our Deadpool stares, utterly speechless for once. He shakes his head, trying to process what he’s just witnessed. "Well, that was… surreal," he mutters. "Seriously, I’ve seen some weird crap, but this? Top five, easy."

As the baby coos on Wolverine’s chest, Wolverine grunts, shooting a glare toward both Deadpools. “You two better not be making a big deal outta this, or I swear, I’ll—"

Our Deadpool snaps his fingers. "No need for threats, big guy! I’ve got enough memories to keep me laughing for the next fifty years!"

As he steps back, ready to continue his journey through the multiverse, he whispers to himself, “Well… never thought I’d see the day Wolverine gave birth. Guess there really is a first time for everything.”

One last look at the bizarrely heartwarming scene, and Deadpool shakes his head with a grin. “Well, that was unexpected..”

And with that, he leaps back into the multiverse, ready for whatever absurdity comes next.

But even for him, this one was going to be tough to top.

[hereisrachel]

Realistic Simon "Ghost" Riley dating headcanons pt.2

- It will take some time until you will see his face

- I know 141 saw his face one time but like privately he won't show himself nor willingly nor if you ask him

- Eventually he will be more comfortable to show himself but again only if you ask him

- If you won't make a big scene from seeing his face he will get his mask off anytime you two are alone

- Does kissing count as a physical touch? He doesn't want to kiss you.

- You can sometimes think that he is completely disgusted by you

- But he's not, he is disgusted by physical touch. If you try to kiss him he will lean away 😭 and probably ask what are you doing

- If you wouldn't die out of embarassment and elaborate, he won't be really eager to let you kiss him

- he is not good at communication when it comes to women, once he will realise that it kinda hurt you he will say "sorry"

- You completely forgot about the situation but he won't tell you why he is sorry. He just will and you need to accept it

- He is kinda like a child but he actually just has no idea how relationships work

- After that, you won't try to kiss him again. He wants to let you know that he is okay with it but he doesn't know how to

- So again he will wait for you to initiate the kiss

- You just need to risk it, not knowing what will happen this time.

- So you try to kiss him on the cheek

- He leans in lightly and closes his eyes for a second

- This is probably the warmest interaction you had with him EVER

- You're so happy that you both are making a progress

- You don't kiss him much after that, you don't want to lose your privilege for overusing it lmfao

- So you just ask him one day if you can kiss him on the lips

- There is a 50/50 chance Ghost will agree 😭

- If he does, it will probably break your heart out of the love you feel to him at the moment

- He will be stiff, but he'll lightly rest hand on your shoulder as in automatic gesture

- He may even smile at you afterwards, his pupils blown wide

- Well he liked that one lol

- There is no love without jealousy right?

- In cod community it's a well known headcanon that Ghost is possesive but I don't think he is all that jealous and possesive

- He barely feels anything. Feeling love to you is a big thing

- But his emotions are shallow, he may feel a little tingling feeling somewhere in his stomach when some guy tries to hit on you but he just stares ig?

- So he's not very jealous, he knows you're his

- It's not that he doesn't fear losing you. Again, He just doesn't feel much emotions besides rage and numbness

- I also think he would find it annoying if you would be overly jealous. But if you're as calm as he is it will be perfect.

- Hear me out on that, you will be more likely able to kiss him first that hug him

- Hugging is two bodies clinging, arms caging around each other. That's way too much for him

- But you use your old technique, hitting, waiting, hitting again lmfao

- He doesn't want to rush things and you don't want to make him feel pressured

- Yeah you hugged before but it wasn't really a hug ig 😭

- I agree with the headcanon that he gives bear hugs!!

- but he hugs only you tho lmao (sorry soap)

- If you two hug he will cling on you like there is not tommorrow, throwing his arms around your back

- You'll have your arms thrown around his back as well, or you'll stand on your toes and your arms around his neck. I believe he would be more comfortable with the first one.

- he will be shocked with himself and a little bit embarassed, but you will be absolutely head over heels. Smelling his scent of cigarettes and mud 🤩🤩, feelling his strong arms on your back and his body on yours. If you rest your head on his chest (like I like to do :3:3) You'll maybe feel his heartbeat if he's not wearing any gear

- You're confused if he liked the hug or not, he is confused as well

- But he is starting to like this reltionship more and more...:3

---

I will perhaps make a part 3 of this!! I've ran out of ideas for now but this is really fun to make<3

[snazzynacho]

Dad!Diego Hargreeves headcanons

Pt1/?

I might write a full length fic of this, I’ll see how I feel. I’m still new to writing for Diego/tua btw.

Warnings: mention of adoption/fostering. SFW obviously 🤷🏻‍♀️

Masterlist.

Read on ao3

LOOK AT HOW CUTE THIS IS^

So it’s already established that he is a Girl Dad™ which is the most canon thing they ever did for season 4 LMAO

If you already have a kid from a previous relationship, he’d love them just as equally

Def insisted on growing a moustache as soon as you found out you were pregnant so he’d be dad ready™

This man constantly wanted a decent father figure, as all the other siblings wanted

But especially Diego, considering his stutter and all :(

So he’d love them so much and would do anything for them

This is his life motto fr:

I also think he’d be willing to go to therapy before you have kids so he can be the best father he can be

Would 100% insist on attending every single baby/pregnancy class

I also see him willing to be open for adoption/foster care <3 He’d love to be a good father figure to children who need one 🥺

Also if he met you after he had kids he’d be so cautious to introduce his kids to you

He’d want to make sure you’d be a good and willing parent

If his child ever had a stutter or anything similar (including neurodivergence) he’d want nothing but the best for them and would constantly tell them how much he loves them <3

He’s just so supportive <3

Like if they want to draw? he’s there to help them colour in (and would try to buy the best type of crayons/pens)

If they want a bedtime story read? He’d do it in a heartbeat 🥺

He just would be so happy to do anything with them

Def would step up and change nappies/diapers

He’d be complaining about it the whole time but deep down he’d want to help

He’s INSANELY protective

Like he just worries all the time

This can lead to him being overbearing

But it’s never because he’s strict. He just wants to protect them and if he sees he’s actually doing the opposite of making them feel protected and supported, he’d tone it down (after a word from you of course)

Road trip dad™ (baby shark trauma)

Finds fun ways to get the kids to eat their veggies

He prides himself on being able to “fight” the imaginary monster under the kid’s beds

He’s like *superman pose* “don’t worry kids, dad is on the rescue!”

The kids would ask how he’s so good at fighting the monster and he’d be so careful not to tell them anything about his vigilante days😭

Like the kids do not need to be traumatised or scared of their own dad💀

When the kid(s) are slightly older (like almost 1) and they start to move around more he insists on baby proofing EVERYTHING

He’s buying all these over-priced equipment which you two really do not need and makes your credit card be in minus

He lets them wear his mask but he’s so protective of it

Like he only lets them wear it once in a while and if he’s watching them the whole time to make sure they don’t damage it

I’d say he’s quite iffy about letting them play with his knives and daggers

He definitely would wait until they’re older to teach them how to use them

I see him being a stay at home dad

Maybe you both try to make it work (like in the show) but ultimately your family works best if he’s a stay at home dad

He’d learn to be so patient with them when helping with homework <3

Especially considering he knows what struggling with something is like (his stutter) <3

Omg he loves sports days so much

He’d be cheering so loud

“THAT’S MY BOY/GIRL!”

And when it’s the parents turn to join in, NO ONE is more determined to win than he is

He’d secretly enjoy when his kid puts makeup on him

In fact I think he’d grow to love it so much to the point he’d be excited when your kid asks to put makeup on him

He even asks first sometimes

He’d put on high heels and the whole look too (💅💁🏻‍♀️this pose and everything)

When they start school, he’d be taking SO MANY PICTURES

Sentimental king

He just wants to have pictures of so many happy memories of his family

Instead of the few ones he grew up with (those pics of the umbrella academy in the newspapers don’t count bc let’s face it, those aren’t proper family photos bc they were just for press) </3

You both definitely have a big photo album

Maybe he even makes it into a scrapbook (that is so cute)

And makes it a family bonding moment where everyone gets to design their own page

He’d love cooking/baking with his kids and you

(Why is me writing all this making me emotional omg)

Maybe I’ll make a part 2 if I think of anymore ideas.

If u enjoyed this check out my tua blog @nacho-hargreeves and maybe I’ll post more Diego content here (we are starving).

Reblogs are appreciated 🫶

[simp4konig]

Extension of @itsagrimm ’s post and conversation which we had 😇✨✨💖

Some additional Nikto headcanons

Word Count: 653

Tag List: ♡ @simpforkonig ♡ @rustic-guitar-notes ♡ @best-soup ☆ @lotionlamp ☆ @luci4theminorannoyance ☆ @happy-mushrooms ♡ @nightlyvoids ♡ @skeletalgoats ♡ @aethelwyneleigh27 ☆ @arrozyfrijoles23 ♡ @dobaddo ♡ @the-second-sage ☆ @wil-xyz ☆ @revnatheshadow ☆ @feelya

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Nikto is extremely bitter, and spiteful. His childhood was stolen from him from the moment he became an officer. In addition to this, his torture left him scarred — physically and mentally — and he is conscious of a childhood which he could have had, yet is unconscious of what the childhood which he did have was like. He either does not remember, or the memories have been repressed; either way, he recognises what he has lost, for he is met with the naively mischievous glint in the eyes of the boyish rookies that arrive with the optimism of a young, hopeful lad, and he is cursing under his breath in Russian, resenting the happiness and zest which they give off, contrasting the spite and bitterness which festers within him.

Perhaps he displays said “boyish” behaviour in order to reclaim some of the innocence which he had when he was a young boy; again, either it is intentional, and he behaves in such a way as to I personally believe that he doesn't even realise that he behaves in such a way: in Nikto's eyes, he has prematurely matured and aged, making him see through the lens of a damaged man; yet, that same lens may be making him blind to the boyish behaviour which he unintentionally displays, evident in the scraps of content that we are fed of him 😓

Maybe Nikto has two boys inside of him which define him, both the same age, yet different: one is the child which was robbed of its innocence and forced to endure atrocities unimaginable; the other is the child, innocent, which has been locked away, wondering why it cannot be let out. Neither is aware of the other, and it's all the more tragic.

Exploring this point further, Nikto being 28–29 is surprising, as he acts far older than his age. It's as if the experiences which he has experienced have aged him mentally, and he genuinely feels the pain of it all straining his psyche. It's tragic that someone so young was subjected to such torture so soon, and be forced to wear a mask 😟…

Given how the wiki states that “he has an uncanny ability… to hide his true identity”, it is ironic. What if from his perspective he has hidden his identity so well that there is none to be found anymore? What if he perceives himself as an actual nobody after having been done so immorally wrong? What if as a result of his torture and lasting trauma he has had his personality and identity stolen, just like his childhood, and is therefore unable to rediscover it?

…Maybe the mask is his subconscious way of protecting the remains of the innocent child, wanting to preserve the past purity of his child self (before being inevitably forced to mature as a result of his environment, and consequently his other experiences?*)

*Note, I can imagine that Nikto's childhood was robbed at some point as an adolescent, but he was still innocent and did not grasp what it was. After his torture, the truth behind his childhood may have come to light, and shed darkness on what was otherwise something positive. Furthermore, he could be clinging on to what little remains of that innocent child.

In addition to own personal headcanon (where he is blunt), he probably spouts the darkest jokes and has a morbid sense of humour. I don't necessarily believe that he would use humour to cope with his circumstances, as in all honesty, he does not strike me as man who indulges in idle banter like “haha i got tortured guys 😎,, sooo anyways 0/10 would not recommend 😰😰 — my other voices wouldnt either, trust 💪🙏” 💀,,

,,but, I certainly believe that due to how desensitised he has become to morbid matters, he has reached a point in his life where the horror amuses him, and doesn't affect him.

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A/N Finished writing this yesterday at 23:11 instead of actually fucking SLEEPING 🥱😫😫,, my priorities are notbthe ones that i should be prioritising lmfao 💀

Surprisingly posted something else 😱😱❓⁉️⁉️❗ this is VERY uncharacteristic of me!!??? I was supposed to post one post and disappear for ~3 months?? 🤔🤔🫡🤨🧐🧐🤨

Been reading Metro 2033 rn and its [Redacted, as the rant was two paragraphs] 😍😍

Not much else to say lmao — been existing i suppose 🤯