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julymusings · 2 months ago

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simplicity

out there they're afraid even of the killer's shadow, and here i reside in his heartbeat like a home

or; the big bad red hood has a soft spot only for you [3.4k]

jason todd x fem!reader; tiny bit of angst but mostly fluff; aggressive unwanted advances, implied roofie attempt, violence & blood, slut-shaming; Jason “my girl can wear whatever she wants I can fight” Todd; in da clerb, we all fam ⎯ based on this !

A humid, crowded, upscale club isn’t the most ideal way to spend your Friday night, and Jason knows this. Frankly, it’s not his either, but as the owner of the humid, crowded, upscale club, he had to make some appearances at his own business.

“It’s a night out,” he had said. “Let’s make the most of it.”

If you’re being honest, it’s also not the worst way to spend your Friday night. Not when Jason dressed up so deliciously, in a fitted t-shirt, jeans, and his leather jacket. Not when he took you to a booth in the corner of the club and had them bring over your favorite drinks and snacks with the order to keep them coming. Not when you got to wear that cute little black dress that’s been hanging in your closet for months with your favorite strappy heels, the ones with ribbons that wrapped around your ankle and tied into a bow in the back. Not when Jason sat you on his lap and settled a large hand on your thigh, where it stayed the whole night.

All in all, you would say you’re making the most of it.

You’re sipping on your drink, chatting about something or the other with your boyfriend. He’s half listening, half drawing circles on your thigh and pressing kisses to your shoulder when one of the employees finds you. She’s freaking out because one of the performers hasn’t shown up, and there’s no one else to go in her place.

Jason huffs. He lifts you off his lap and sets you down on the seat. “I’m sorry, baby, I just gotta take care of this. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s okay. I’ll be here.” You smile over the rim of your glass.

He looks around for a moment, then gestures to someone across the room. One of the bouncers make their way to you.

“Just keep an eye out,” he tells him. “I don’t trust these entitled country club fuckers.”

He gives a curt nod. Jason leans in close, smirking, and says, “Especially not when you look like that,” and gives you a quick kiss before disappearing into the crowd with the employee.

A couple minutes later, a crash snaps your attention towards the bar. A young, college-aged-looking man is berating a waitress while a mess of shot glasses litter the floor around them. The waitress looks about to cry.

“Jesus Christ,” the bouncer says to himself. Then to you, “Gimme a second.”

You move to the edge of the booth to watch as he goes over and tries to pacify the man, but that only seems to make him angrier. He shoves the bouncer, yelling about “shitty customer service.”

You don’t get to see what happens next, though, because your field of vision is obscured by an enormous, very shiny, and very douchey silver belt buckle. You look up for its owner, and a greasy-looking, white-haired man looks down at you.

“Hey there, sweetheart.” A fake gold tooth catches the flashing lights and it glints in your eye. Uninvited, he slides into the booth across from you. He places a drink on the table, sliding it towards you. “You look thirsty. Got this for you.”

“No, thanks. I’ve got one.” You hold your own glass up.

He rolls his eyes. “Pretty thing like you should be takin’ advantage of all the free drinks you could be gettin’.” His smile sends a chill down your spine.

“Again, I’m fine,” you say, a little harsher. “My boyfriend has brought me plenty of drinks already.”

He laughs. It’s a high-pitched, scratchy, wheezing sound. Like a kazoo. “I don’t see this boyfriend of yours anywhere. He should know better than to leave you alone. I’d treat you much better than him.” His eyes travel down your neck and stay there. You stand from the booth and take a big step back. It’s not entirely personal; no matter how much of a threat he may be, Jason is a worse one. And if he’s still in this neighborhood, never mind this building, you fear for this man’s safety much more than your own. But the man follows, bringing the cup with him. “Come on, honey, it’s a compliment. Show a little thanks. I don’t bite.”

You don’t have to be the world’s finest detective to know that is most definitely a lie. Or to know to avoid that cup at all costs.

You could just rebuff him, walk away. But you’re willing to bet he’d just move on to the next woman. One who’s probably a little less sober, and a little less aware of her surroundings. You feign a stumble and knock the drink out of his grip. It tips toward him, drenching him with its contents. He chokes out a shocked gasp.

“Oops,” you deadpan, not at all trying to hide your indifference.

“You bitch,” he snarls. He lunges forward, snatching your wrist. You try to pull it back, but his grip is iron and bruising. “I was doing you a favor. Do you see anyone else here looking at you?”

You’re suddenly grateful you didn’t put up much of a fight after Jason came home from patrolling one night insisting he show you some self-defense moves. Far be it from you to cause a scene, but this guy isn’t giving you much choice. You employ the cardinal rule of women’s self-defense: go for the crotch. You shift your weight to your non-dominant side and launch your dominant knee right into his groin. The sharp metal edge of his belt buckle slices the skin just above your knee, but it shocks him enough to release your wrist and double over. The same leg used in your attack plants itself on the ground, and you use the momentum to pistol your opposite fist forward. It collides with his nose in a bone-cracking cross. Your stacks of studded rings didn’t do him any favors, either. He cries out in pain. His hands fly up to cover his nose, and the cup falls from his grasp and shatters on the floor, garnering the attention of some surrounding patrons. Blood seeps between his fingers.

“You’re gonna fucking pay for that.” His tone drips with poison. He reaches into his coat pocket and brandishes a switchblade (because of course. You’re not surprised, though. It is Gotham). You look around in a panic, hoping to find Jason towering somewhere over the crowd. He’s not there. A few guys who work for him, though, have since taken notice of the commotion and are making their way towards you. You know they won’t make it in time. You weren’t scared a moment ago, but you definitely are now. Jason only briefly covered disarming techniques, and you didn’t have his practice to stay calm in situations like these. He steps closer, shoes crunching over the glass shards, and you step back. You’re backed into a corner, literally. Your back is pressed against the table. His eyes are glassy and void of color.

There is a resounding pop when the man’s knife-wielding hand is yanked to the side. Too fast for your brain to register, he thuds against the table next to you and the knife clatters to the ground. You look over and see Jason, one hand pressing his face into the table and the other twisting the man’s arm behind his back.

When his men finally reach you, Jason is seething. They look almost as afraid as the man, whose whimpers are muffled by the pressure with which he’s flattened against the table.

“Who the fuck let this happen,” Jason glowers. Uncomfortable glances are shared between the men, all sharing the same sentiment; we fucked up big time.

Jason’s livid gaze flits back and forth among them. His veins flex against his forearms, rippling with effort. It looks like he’s putting all his strength into incapacitating the man, but you know better. He’s putting all his strength into restraint. The look on his face is cold and steely, with hardened, venom-green eyes and a clenched jaw. This isn’t Jason, the sweet boyfriend, or Jason the easy-going yet respected club proprietor. This is Jason the crime lord. Jason the anti-hero. This is the Red Hood. Who makes his own rules and kills anyone who breaks them. It’s a bit off-putting for you to see him like this; he’s never like this with you. He’s always just…Jason. Your Jason.

One of his men speaks up. “We’re sorry, Boss, we were keepin’ an eye like you asked, but there was trouble up at the bar.”

Jason scowls. “Trouble that required all of you?”

At their silence, he rolls his eyes. “Idiots,” he says under his breath. He jerks the man up to stand, the hand that was pressing him to the table now gripping the back of his shirt collar. “Someone take care of this.” He shoves the man in their direction. Hard. One of them catches him. “And for fuck’s sake, check him for anything else.”

While they’re busy patting him down, Jason turns back to you. You get whiplash from how quick his demeanor changes. Though still tense, the rigidity of his expression is long gone, replaced with tender concern.

“Are you okay?” His wide eyes scan you up and down, searching for any signs of injury. You manage a nod, still a bit stunned by his apparent shape-shifting abilities. “I’m so sorry, honey, this is my fault. It’s my fault for leaving you alone.” He pulls you close for a hug and kisses the top of your head, murmuring further apologies into your hair.

You pull back and cup his face in your hands. “It’s okay, Jay, I’m fine. I promise.” You lean in to kiss him and feel his shoulders relax.

“Jesus, man, sorry! Wouldn’t’a come on so strong if I knew she was your whore. How much did ‘ya pay for her, anyway?” His voice rings from behind. Jason tenses up again. When he pulls back from you, he’s gone. He’s like Jekyll-turned-Hyde when the combatant that lay dormant inside him reassumes his body.

He turns around, but his large frame shields you from seeing the scene unfold. You place a hand on his arm, a silent message of support, and you can feel him vibrating with anger. His hand comes to rest over yours and gives a reassuring squeeze.

“You know what?” You can’t be sure who he’s speaking to, but you can hear the eerie smile in his tone. “I’ll take care of this.” He faces you. “Can you give me a minute? Is that okay?” His voice is calm.

You know he would stay if you asked him to. And you never would, but you know he would go outside and kill that guy if you asked him to. And maybe you’re feeling a tad vindictive after the whole ordeal, so you just say, “Okay.”

He kisses your forehead, squeezing your hand once more. “I’ll come find you,” he says, stepping away, and you nod.

“Ross,” he commands. “Take her to the office. Get her whatever she wants.” Jason then speaks to all of his men. His tone drips with disdain. “Tomorrow we’ll talk about who’s getting fired for this.” You catch some of his men flinch.

He grabs the man by the collar once again and stalks towards the exit, dragging him along.

You’ve met Ross once or twice, though never exchanged more than a few words. He smiles at you. It’s amiable, if not slightly nervous. You know where the office is, but you’re still grateful for the guide. The mesh of moving bodies under dim lights makes all four corners of the room look the same. With the adrenaline wearing off, your hands ache and you become acutely aware of the stinging shock that shoots up your knee when you walk on it but, persevering, you follow him to the back. He holds the door that reads ‘RESTRICTED - DO NOT ENTER’ open for you, and you smile in thanks.

Various employees, servers and performers alike, mill about in the back hallways. You know some of them, having met in passing during other visits to the club, and offer polite greetings as you walk by. When you arrive at Jason’s office, Ross unlocks the door for you and you step inside.

It’s a nice office, noticeably homier than it was when you and Jason met. The first time he brought you back here it was just a desk, a chair, and a filing cabinet. You perched yourself on his desk while he sat in his chair and you teased him for not having a place for guests to sit, saying something about ‘men and their awful interior designing skills.’

“It’s not ‘bad skills,’ it’s cost-effective. ‘M runnin’ a business here, baby. If you need a place to sit that badly, you can sit right here.” He joked, patting his lap. And he said it with such conviction you believed him, but the next time you visited there was a brand new, plushy suede couch pushed against the wall.

You find a seat on said couch and try to get comfortable despite your protesting joints. From here you can spot a framed photo on Jason’s desk; the two of you smiling while bathing a shelter dog at the Wayne Animal Sanctuary. But while you smile at the camera, his gaze is trained on you.

Ross stands in the doorway, stoic as a bodyguard should be. “Do you need anything?” He asks you.

“No, I’m okay. Thank you, though.”

“‘Course. I’ll be outside. Just yell if you need anything.” He moves to exit, but pauses. “Look,” he says, “We’re all really sorry about what happened. It was our fault. You have every right to hate us.” He chuckles self-deprecatingly. “God knows the boss does.”

You purse your lips, unsure how to respond. Technically Jason did instruct them not to leave you alone. But really, the only person at fault is that horrible man, and he was currently getting what he deserved.

“It’s okay, Ross,” you say, and you mean it. “I don’t blame you. And Jason’s not gonna fire any of you, okay? I won’t let him.”

He exhales. “Okay, you—yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He loiters awkwardly in the doorway for a moment. “Listen, Todd’s always been a great boss. But it’s no joke when it comes to you. Don’t know exactly what happened, but after meeting you, he’s just…different. Not sure if I believe it, but after the first time you were here, one of the bartenders swears they heard him whistling. Anyway, just mean to say…we’re glad he has you.”

His sincerity warms your heart. You thank him, and he assumes his post outside, closing the door.

At last in decent lighting, you take the time to examine yourself. Your knee, knuckles, and wrist are splotchy with bruises. A small scrape rests just above your knee from you were scratched. There’s a splattering of blood on your knuckles and on the rings you’re wearing. You grimace, the reality of what just happened settling in. Someone pulled a knife on you. If Jason hadn’t been there…the thought leaves you cold.

There are voices on the other side of the door, then receding footsteps. After a few seconds, a knock.

“Baby? Can I come in?”

“Yes,” you call out. Jason enters, locking the door behind him. There are some smatterings of blood on his hands and face, and he’s holding a first aid kit. Your immediate instinct is that he’s the one who needs first aid.

“Are you okay?” You ask as he kneels on the floor in front of you. “Did he hurt you?”

Jason tilts his head like a confused puppy, eyebrow raised. Just like that, The Red Hood is gone. He’s Jason again. He speaks softly, with a hint of his usual boyish charm. “Should I be insulted by you asking me that?” He picks up your un-injured leg and places the foot on his thigh, beginning to unravel the ribbon wrapped around your ankle. He removes the shoe and places it to the side, then repeats with your other foot. But when he moves it, your knee twitches and you wince. He frowns but doesn’t say anything. He sees the way your eyes travel between all the spots of blood. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, none of it’s mine.”

You sigh in relief. “You didn’t��kill him, did you?”

He chuckles, lightly massaging your foot. “Nah…did you want me to? ‘Cause I can still—”

“No.”

He smirks at you, before leaning down to press a kiss to your bruised knee. It’s so gentle, so loving, it completely contradicts the bloodstains that adorn him. As his hands move up to your calf, your hand moves to his hair, fingers threading through the white streaks and pushing them back so you can get a better view of his eyes. They’re a silky teal, bordering on sea green. They remind you of lake trips in the summer, and ice skating during the holidays.

“How bad is he? Like, on a scale of ‘he can walk it off’ to ‘he needs to go to the hospital.’”

Jason pauses his movements, looking thoughtful for a moment.

“He…he’s walking himself to the hospital.”

There’s not much you can say to that. After all, you gave him to okay to go fuck that guy up.

From the first aid kit, he retrieves a box of Band-Aids. They’re the children’s ones, decorated with cartoons and various characters. A specific one catches your eye, and you pick it out of the carton.

“Robin? Really?”

Jason breathes out a small laugh. “One of my guys’ daughter loves him.” He unwraps the bandage and sticks it over the scratch. You admire the small red plaster. Jason traces a finger over the emblem in the center, a black and yellow ‘R’.

He moves from your leg to your hand, gingerly laying it in his palm. One by one he slides each of your rings off. They’re not particularly special, but you still like them and you try to protest when he tosses them in the trash. He’s quick to assuage you with promises to buy you new ones with, hopefully, less blood.

"Did you see how good I got him?" You suddenly feel shy asking such a question. Like a child seeking validation.

"I did see," Jason says. And there's not a hint of condescension in his tone. "I'm proud of you. You remembered what I taught you."

You beam under his pride.

He uses a sanitizing wipe to remove the droplets of blood from your knuckles, kissing each one along the way. He reaches your wrist last. There’s a purple hand-shaped mark that wraps around it, and he stares at it. You can see his thoughts race at sixty miles an hour, and you know he’s beating himself up about it.

“Hey.” The hand in his hair moves to stroke his cheek. “It’s okay. It’s not your fault. I promise. I love you.”

He leans forward to press his forehead to your wrist. “I’m sorry,” he breathes. “I’m sorry.” He places gentle kisses on the purple skin. “I’m sorry. I love you.” He moves to the scratch above your knee, pressing more kisses, repeating the words like a prayer. Your hand is still enclosed in his hands, and his cool fingers soothe the throbbing swell. You pull his head up, holding his chin in your fingertips. His eyes close as he soaks in your warm touch.

You reach for another wipe and begin wiping the blood from his face. Some of it has dried, so you press the wipe a little harder, and blood rushes to his cheeks to give him an adorable flush. You repeat the process on his hands. Blood erased and wipes discarded, you pull him up to the couch to lie down with you. He stretches out, so large that his feet hang over the armrest. You snuggle up to his side and your head rests on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head. It’s surreal, how utterly soft he is, and just for you. How no one else gets to see him like this. He goes out at night as a fighter, a crusader, a deadly threat. And then he comes home to sleep in your arms. In your bed.

You place your hand against his chest, right over his heart to feel it thrum beneath your palm. It beats simple and steady, and just for you.

am i the only one who likes the whole jason owning the iceberg lounge storyline (aside from the whole penguin prisoner thing but i only write according to canon that i like and leave out the things i don't! whoops🤷‍♀️);

the feminine urge to write more fics that take place within the universe of this one...

divider is from here

#my jason todd domesticity agenda #batman #red hood #jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #batfamily #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #dc robin #robin

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1k1ga1 · 22 days ago

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Hello!i do not know if requests are still available,but is it alright if i ask for yandere!dion with a very kind and soft reader?like she is always giving dion compliments and hugging him,even patting his back.giving him sweets after he came back from a mission,u know?

❝ 𝓗𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝓜𝐄 , 𝓒𝐎𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐄 𝓜𝐄 . . . ❞

━━ 𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐇𝐖𝐀 💭 𝐑𝐎𝐗𝐀𝐍𝐀 / 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐄 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐃’𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 💭 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 𝐗 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐋𝐄 ! 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

━━ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 💭 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅 , 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was unfortunate enough to be born as one of the black agriches notorious for their atrocities, yet he was also just a callow child with twinkling ruby eyes and a cheeky smile and no child has the capacity to be inherently evil. dion was not born a monster, but being a monster was all he’s ever known; becoming a monster was how that young child survived his bloodline, and somewhere along the way, his emotions had died along with the child he could’ve been had he been born into a normal family.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who’s never known the gentleness of a mother’s touch nor did he ever get to experience the warmth of a true family. all his life, death creeps in his shadow with stygian tendrils that wreath around his ankles — his hands tainted with so much blood they’ve turned black. he is convinced that his heart has been frozen, and yet somewhere inside the uncharted corners, there is a forsaken child that he’s rejected for his own sake, desperately crying out for someone to pacify his visceral yearning.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who notices your eyes first. most people look at him with fear, contempt, disgust, or they wholly delude themself of the part of him that is a murderer seeking blood. you are not most people. when he first meets your eyes, there is nothing but serenity and warmth. your pupils are unclouded and he can almost see his own reflection in them — you don’t reject the part of him that is sinful and a killer. instead, you accept him as he is — flawed and tainted and pathetic — and deign him with your kind smiles anyways.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn't understand the new emotions festering within him after meeting you. the mere thought of you intoxicates him, and it’s even worse when he recalls your affectionate gestures in his presence. you’re just so dizzyingly sweet — too sweet that he could taste you on his tongue and feel you ballooning in his chest and coiling around his cold heart, squeezing and squeezing until he’ll unfold in your grasp.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who doesn’t know how to receive your affection at first, and instinctively finds himself pondering about your ulterior motives. he’s never been treated with such gentleness and endearment before, and whatever crumbs of familial affection he could get out of his half-sister, it all came with a price. so, what was your price? perhaps you required his expertise as a killer, perhaps you wanted to use his status to get to his family, perhaps you wanted to exploit him for all he was worth — or, perhaps, you just wanted…him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who was at an utter loss when you confessed this truth to him. the sincerity in your eyes betrayed no deception, yet how is it possible for someone to love him? how could someone like him be loved? dion agriche, convinced of his incapability to be loved, was unconvinced of your love for him. he sternly rejects you, because behind an expressionless face, he fears what he’s known all his life would only further be confirmed when you ultimately realize he’s unlovable.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who becomes baffled by your persistence after his rejection. he expected you to crumble and concede after being the subject of his callousness, yet you remained unfazed. you were undeterred in your mission to ‘love’ him, and witnessing your resolve — like a rock worn down by the waves — dion made a decision that would change his life; he chose to let you love him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who becomes flustered when you amped up the affectionate gestures to the max after receiving his reluctant blessings. typically, your touches would only be limited to fleeting pats on the back or the handshakes that you insisted on for a bit too long. but now, the gestures has become full-on embraces whenever you catch sight of him, long hand-holding sessions as you drag him around the garden, or the occasional moments when your touch would flutter over the arch of his cheek as you admired his eyes.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who, with his high walls and guarded heart, finds himself completely unraveling at your touch. in his turbulent and bloody life, you become a solitary sanctuary where he can let down his guard and shed the ruthless mask of an agriche. perhaps it was something about your mollifying presence, or the way your smaller fingers would distractingly trace shapes on the back of his han, and of course, the way your embrace always smells sweetly of you and whatever tea you indulged in that afternoon.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who finds himself getting comfortable — too comfortable with being treated delicately and spoiling himself in the limitless shower of your affection. by now, he’s finally admitted the fact you’d weaved your way into his heart and snuggled into the corner you’d created that just seems to continue growing. and now that he’s had this realization of just how significant you’ve become to him, he begins to feel the creeping fear of his life without you in it. dion finds himself desperate to have you finally see him for all that he is and bind your very soul to him before you could have the chance to run away, and this thought gnaws at him.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who stumbles into your chambers late one night, the blood of his latest targets splattered across the pale canvas of his skin. his inhuman appearance was purposeful, for he had intended to test you one final time; to see if you could love even this pathetic side of him that was nothing more than a weapon of bloodshed at the whims of his family. however, when you merely wipe the blood from his face with eyes shining with concern for him, he watches as the blood smears across your skin, yet you make no comment of it. even as he laid vulnerable in your arms in his most wretched form, you don’t push him away, and only hold him dearer.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who realizes that although he might be an incorrigible monster in the agriche’s hand, in your gentle hands, he is worthy of love, and he finally shed tears while enveloped in the softness of your embrace.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who learns about love through you; love is the murmuring and crooning voice that sings him praises and admiration, the small hand that massages his scarred and burdened back like a soothing balm, the same hand that combs carefully through his hair, and the heartbeat that puts his mind to a peaceful sleep when you cradle him against your chest. for the first time in his desolate life, dion agriche discovers what love is instead of what it isn’t.

━━ ✧ 𝐃𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄 who learns that he too can be loved thanks to you, and who learns to love you just as utterly.

#—ichigo 💭#manhwa x reader #yandere manhwa x reader #yandere x reader #the way to protect the female lead's older brother #roxana #dion agriche #dion x reader #twtptflob #_𝟏𝐊𝟏𝐆𝐀𝟏_#yandere the way to protect the female lead’s older brother

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blueberry-puffin · 6 months ago

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no denying how repeatedly linked harrow and mercymorn are (tricky & wretched of john to entrust harrow to the person who also had a nun in their equation, and tag ianthe onto someone connected to franticide) but ortus’s declaration towards the end of the book applies more to mercymorn than to harrow — who do we blame when the one we lost is both the victim and the killer? where does that hate go, can we really stomach it? these words a bullet that grazed but ultimately missed harrow, because she could never allow herself to hate gideon again. so she hates the person hating whom is second nature, self blame as familiar as breathing. but mercymorn had resisted leading that emotion to its source, and she lived beside this grief's river mouth for 10k years, and she held that emotion close, but slightly to the side.

mercymorn, shrill, critical, unlikeable pink haired mercymorn rattles my brain because female rage can sometimes work like a bargain. scraps and empties, bruses and falsehoods, anything to placate, to pacify, to pin that rage in place for a little while longer. was there really no other way? was our mission truly worth it? did you love cristabel?

and there was another way, and the mission was not worth it. and god never liked cristabel. the second time she died, mercymorn was there to pick up the pieces, but the first time god left her body and soul alone, bloody and shattered on the cold floor. did that mercymorn, - not mercymorn the first, but the first mercymorn - find cristabel? did she go into that room where he'd left her because she checked for her everywhere? did she go on to die herself for john with ignorance or radical acceptance?

the unloveable mercymorn dooming all the nine planets because she was an atheist in love with a nun; someone who loved god well enough to die for him twice, and did not love mercymorn well enough to live for her once.

and god did not even like her.

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moociaoafterdark · 15 days ago

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The last post was a rhetorical question, but, glad you guys want to hear me out!

Anyway, the Imperial Palace is haunted. "Haunted".

Surely, there are no such things as ghosts, right?

Except, when the Raven Guard Astartes began to report things disappearing when you don't look at them and also seeing pale ghostly figure stalking the hallways, people began to tense up, even though some just brushed it off as them confusing a ghost for one of their own. When the Custodes began to back up the Raven Guard's claims, the Primarchs got involved.

So, the main ghost hunting squad consists of Horus, Sanguinius, Corvus and Alpharius (and Omegon, but, shh). If we assign them the "Mystery Gang" roles, then Horus is Fred, Sanguinius is Daphne, Corvus is Velma and Alpharius is either Shaggy and Omegon is Scooby, or it's the other way around. No one notices the changes anyway.

A lot of their methods include things like a ouija board (from which they learned many interesting things about the ghost, particularly how many pickles it can shove up its ass), asking the ghost questions in the dark room, taunting the ghost (and screaming like little girls when the ghost retaliates), using a radio to try to communicate with it... That kind of stuff. A lot of the times, Corvus tries to negotiate with the ghost by offering Horus a sacrifice, much to Sanguinius' annoyance. Surprisingly, Horus doesn't really mind becoming a sacrifice (he thinks he can fight the ghost off) (he can't do shit). Alpharius and Omegon are both amused, however they initially didn't take the hauntings seriously. As time went on, though, they slowly started to plan their way out of the group.

The gang then turned to Lorgar for help. Their research led them to find out that numerous religions, in the past, had ways to ward off ghosts. Perhaps Lorgar can do something? Lorgar decided that a religious sacrifice could potentially pacify the paranormal ("No, Corvus, we are not sacrificing Horus"). He ordered Alpharius and Omegon to find and bring a small animal that they could sacrifice, while Lorgar prepared the salt, the candles and the prayers. Alpharius brought a little white rabbit from the Palace's kitchen. Sanguinius was sad to see such cutie get sacrificed, he made sure to give that rabbit some pats before the ritual. When the right time came, the Primarchs, all 6 of them now, stood in the circle made out of salt, in the room that was pitch black safe for some lit candles. Lorgar read the prayers and tried to stab the rabbit in order to kill it. The dagger, instead, bent to the side, as if the animal was made out of steel. The white rabbit then became possessed and jumped onto Alpharius, trying to bite through his helmet... And almost succeeding, had Sanguinius not grabbed and tossed the vermin out from the circle. Despite being tossed by a Primarch with full force, the rabbit didn't even break a sweat, instead preparing to pounce on its next victim. Thankfully it was put down by Horus and a couple of shots from his bolter pistol that he thankfully brought with himself. The killer rabbit was dead and Lorgar felt despair. Why didn't his faith in their father stop the malicious presence? He will make that ghost pay! Feeling wronged, he joins the ghost hunting squad and helps keep the group together and to coordinate the rituals.

Magnus thinks he can crack the case himself. He gets the photo evidence of paranormal activity, however, his recording skills are subpar. The photos and videos are blurry as fuck, as if Magnus covered the lense with a thick coat of vaseline beforehand. No one believes him or takes his evidence as, well, actual evidence... Except Jaghatai. His bike has been acting weird lately. Sometimes it turns on all by itself, drives itself for a good distance, sometimes it refuses to turn on, or strange things pop out on the display. Something is messing with his bike and the Great Khan is REALLY pissed at this. And, so far, he only trusts Magnus with this, so, they become a ghost hunting duo. Through the series of unfortunate events, the two have to race away from the pissed off ghost, with Magnus clinging onto Jagh and yelling "DRIVE FASTER, I'M SCARED".

The ghost also visited the Night Haunter himself. When Konrad realized he had an intruder he looked at the ghost, who decided to appear to him as a demonic looking old woman, taller than Konrad himself. Their eyes locked together and Konrad just... smiled, his rotting teeth revealed by a wide grin. He and the Night Lords were never bothered by the ghost again after that.

When news reached Roboute of what was happening in the Imperial Palace, he just made a shocked face and went "Oh no... Anyway!" and then went back to drinking the finest of wines you could find on Ultramar, while basking under Macragge's sun. Jackass.

Ferrus and Rogal were both working on the project together and didn't even notice the ghost. At some point, the ghost became a third participant: holding a hammer or shinning a light where it was needed. When Ferrus and Rogal realized what was happening, they just... Went back to work and continued to exploit the ghost. They would never say no to free labour.

#warhammer 40k #primarchs #sanguinius #horus lupercal #konrad curze #corvus corax #alpharius omegon #alpharius #omegon #lorgar aurelian #magnus the red #jaghatai khan #roboute guilliman #ferrus manus #rogal dorn #yes the rabbit part was a Monty Python reference

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weirdheadcanons · 8 months ago

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Fic Idea

Okay, I kinda ended up stumbling into another Batfam series idea...

Love the Baby Robins trope, but of course, if you actually think about it it is horrifying to have a twelve year old investigating serial killers in Gotham...

So currently I'm more or less coming up with Supernatural Batfam ideas to cancel out the child soldier angle of Robin.

I wanted a series idea where Bruce is actually doing the right thing - or at least, choosing the least damaging option - by making the kids Robins.

So, this one.

In Indian folklore, it is believed that those who die an unjust death can come back as Other.

Which flavor of Other can vary, going from vampiric ghosts to local gods.

The usual pattern in the lore is that, those who die unjust deaths - especially if they died young - come back vengeful, dangerous.

Deadly. Not just to the ones who wronged them, but to everyone. They are furious, destructive, lashing out at every living thing.

So when someone comes back like that, the local people begin to try and pacify them. Give them offerings. Pray to them. That goes on long enough, the Other becomes benevolent. Becomes a local guardian spirit instead of vengeful demon.

Basically you deal with a destructive Other by literally taming them with love.

Thinking about how this can fit Gotham Rogues.

A lot of them had tragic pasts. Pasts that could very well have killed them.

So the Rogues can be the vengeful Others. Jack Napier who died falling into that chemical vat, Harleen Quinzel killed by a trigger happy cop during an Arkham Breakout when she was trying to protect her patients, Harvey Dent dying after the acid attack, etc.

Batman starts out hunting the vengeful Others, wanting to lock them away forever (Arkham has special units which work better than normal cells would but not good enough), but his method of dealing with Others has to change when he sees the Graysons die.

Dick falls too. And unlike his parents, he won't move on, becoming an Other... on the way to becoming one of the vengeful Others, one of the demons.

Bruce can't lock a child away in Arkham - even an Other child.

So he and Alfred basically calls in every contact they have, trying to figure out some way to prevent the kid from turning into one of the haunters.

And finds out it is possible for an Other to become a guardian spirit, if enough positive emotions are directed their way. Love and worship.

Hence, Robin.

The Light of Gotham. Adorable, popular. Hero-worshipped.

Turning from vengeance to Guardian spirit...

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melomelomuskmelon · 2 months ago

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Melon headcannonz!!

aka.. why i believe this fucking thing has a personality disorder.

He has NPD [narcissistic personality disorder] PLEASE do not take this as "i'm headcannoning the abusive serial killer with the evil bitch disorder because he's evil and kills people", i myself am a narcissist, and melon shows.. a lot of narc traits i relate to, like first off the lack of empathy and utter disregard or understanding of other beasts, yeah this is kinda just.. a hybrid thing in beastars but MAN, also he.. clearly has a fragile ego and a very vivid view of himself, melon is 'the love's failure, the devil of the back alley market, the cruel failed product of love' a persona he is so attatched to that he refuses to stray away of this view of himself and accept any sort of change for the better. in fact! dolph and miguel state that putting yourself down and praising him is the best way to pacify melon.,,,, narc shit. in fact! the few times people have called melon out or challanged his view of himself he's lashed out. [legoshi attempting to sympathize with him in vol 15, melon leads up to his theatric attempt to murder him right after legoshi states he doesn't view melon as a bad person, also agata calling him imoral for eating meat he does not know the species of,,,,, to which he stabs the poor fucker in the hand with a fork.] and,, ok narc pov here, i also get incredably pissed and violent when the complex version of myself that is built in my head is challaged.. ive never reached. melon levels as i'm a human person and not a shonen antagonist, but i HAVE. gotten violent before at my persona being threatened. but seriously melon honey, just bite yourself and zone out to marina and the diamonds while you list reasons you're better than evreybdy else in your head. thats what i do. it,,,,, helps?? also an interesting detail is his suicide attempt at the end of the manga, again this is my narc bias, but i feel like post-meat loving day he's absolutley going on an ego spiral, the attention and support of nearly the whole back alley gets to his head and mabye i look into his actions too much but he seems a lot more erratic after this. i am not trying to speak for all narcs here but theres this almost.. mania-like state ive gotten into after getting a lot of positive attention and it can make me spiral into bad patterns, thats what i think is going on with melon. and even like.. after he finds out the back alley is being demolished; the back alley. the source to feed his ego is dissapearing, he spirals!! he tries to play it off because he's in front of a bunch of people causing him to resort to being theatrical again, but he tries to kill himself. a part of him feels he's nothing withought the [to him] pathetic carnevores groveling for him, entertained by how unpredictable he is, so what else is there once you loose your ego supply? so he tries to kill himself, he tries to kill himself while also trying to make his death a dramatic statement with the whole "this land will be forever tainted if a hybrid died here right now in front of evreybody" he's still trying to get attention and fuel his ego by going down in infamy. but yeah i,,,, this was supposed to just be a list of funny headcannons but i wrote too much about my npd headcannon for melon...... i'll have to post the funnier ones after this sometime. and i again wanna state melon isn't perfect npd rep, he's.. litterally the "evil manipulative abusive bastard" steriotype that plauges the npd community. but i do see my traits in him and wanted 2 yap about it. melon go to therapy and fuccking run a tumblr blog where you shitpost to like 10 loyal mutuals, it gives you the same attention high i fucking promise.

#melon beastars

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mssr-crumpled-paper · 7 months ago

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Gale and the Unperfect Victim

Here I am, back again with Gale posting cause I still have more thoughts on him as a character.

So, today, I read the phrase "the perfect victim" which is a myth often used to discredit the experience of female victims of SA, to dictate a way that victims of violence/assault are "supposed" to act. And when i tell you the concept of a perfect victim to anything immediately made me think of Gale, as well as the state of colonial resistance at large.

I'd like to preface with the idea that there is no "perfect victim" to any systemic crimes perpetuated. There is no one acceptable way of acting or responding to oppression or violence. With that out of the way let's get into the Gale analysis.

I often see people talk about Gale in this specific formula:

"I still don't like Gale as a character. His anger is understandable but [insert violent response to state sanctioned violence here].

There always seems to be such a conditional in the people's eyes of what is and isn't justifiable violence or resistance. To what means is a war just is one of the central themes of THG (or at least I believe so anyways).

Now this question raises a really interesting point about Gale's character. Obviously, Gale is meant to represent the other end of the extremist spectrum: kill all Capitol people indiscriminately, no matter their disposition and beliefs or levels of innocence; take down the Capitol at all cost.

This, coupled with the fact that Peeta represents the other end of the spectrum (do the right thing and hold onto conscience, choosing humanity for all ends) might present Gale as a heartless, cold killer.

Here we meet the instance of a "perfect victim." Subjected to seemingly relatively the same levels of oppression (some would even argue that Peeta suffered more), Peeta still continuously chooses to pacify. He represents conscience, which manifests in the way that he is soft spoken, generally kind/compassionate, white, blond, merchant's kid, unquestioningly devout, barely ever angry. Do you hear it? The sounds of a perfect victim, someone you're supposed to feel bad for because he didn't deserve any of this.

This view is revoked from Gale, someone who's fought, hunt, and kill all his life. Angry, harsh, not as well-spoken or charismatic, a possessive weirdo sometimes, and violent. His response to violence is almost always with anger, with the biting of the tongue until it bleeds, and then it explodes in everyone's face. "Gale is understandable, but..."

It makes me wonder how much compassion and understanding and help we can truly extend to a person who doesn't respond to violence the way he's supposed to. When they don't lay down and take it, or brood in angry silence, or extend a gracious forgiving hand. People would say he lacks humanity or compassion but I would wholeheartedly disagree. His dedication to his people, to his family, to his friends, to Katniss has manifested into anger and hatred for an imperial machine that has never cared if he died or lived.

I find it funny that somehow, this is always a trait demanded to be fixed by the oppressed. Even in post-war, post-apocalyptic movies where previous minority groups establish a closed community that's hostile to outsiders, that's a moral failing on their part. It fails completely to view the responsibility of the Capitol people, whose true extent of innocence can be argued against (how innocent are you really, when you're an exploitative force actively participating in the deaths and oppression of the lower colony-like districts).

Which then leads me to the posts I've been seeing about Palestine. So much focus on constant martyrdom, which is so important. SO important. But why are we turning our eyes away from their resistance? The truth of it is gratuitous violence is not their first choice, and resistance is always so ugly. We distance ourselves away from the violence to excuse ourselves of the need to have to justify the means to life of an entire people.

"By what standard of morality can the violence used by a slave to break his chains be considered the same as the violence of a slave master?” - Walter Rodney

Do I agree with everything Gale does? No. I won't attempt to justify his notions of violence, but I will beg you to situate them within the asymmetrical power context in which they’re committed.

#gale hawthorne #revolution #free palestine #thg #free gaza #palestine #the hunger games

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lectercunt · 1 year ago

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more omega Hannibal fic list please 💗

Thanks for the request! Below are my Omega!Hannibal fic recommendations. Read responsibly and mind the tags!

The only fic ranked on this list is the first—stink in the nostrils by murdertrout. It is my favorite fic of all time, period, and just happens to be Omega!Hannibal. The last fic on the list is mine. Enjoy <3

stink in the nostrils

Secret Omega Hannibal is not pleased that he has imprinted on Will Graham. He avenges himself on his biology by getting Will Graham put behind bars. But when Will figures out what he’s been hiding and tampers with his suppressants, triggering his first heat, they both get more than they bargained for.

put your aching teeth to good use, my dear

Fromage AU. When Will sees Hannibal in his office, bloody but alive, he goes into a feral rut. Hannibal tries to pacify him.

prime

He bares his teeth in a smile that makes Will answer in kind. "I'll find you," he says; a threatening promise of his own. Will grins, and purrs for him in a way that makes Hannibal ache all over again. "Good," he replies. "I want you to."

feral

“Will,” Jack Crawford growls down the line, “Tell me Hannibal Lecter never confided in you that he was an Omega.” “Oh, shit.” “Oh, shit,” Jack agrees. They’ve come a long way from the old days, where Omegas in heat would slaughter anyone who stood between them and their chosen Alpha. Where Omegas would fight each other to the death in order to claim their prize, and some Alphas died of rut exhaustion or from injuries sustained from a too-eager Omega. Now, Omegas temper their heats with stabilizing pills and Alphas have a say in who they breed. But there would have been no stabilizing pills provided to an incarcerated Beta.

asserting dominance (dead dove!)

Hannibal has spent years of imprisonment without Will properly acknowledging their mating bond. When Hannibal sends the Dragon to kill Molly and Walter, he finally provokes Will into action: to remedy his jealous behavior by inducing his heat, and putting him in his place.

top dog, lost kitten

Hannibal, an omega catboy belonging to a rich family, finds himself drawn to a stray alpha dogboy by the name of Will. When Hannibal wanders the streets during his heat, he gets unwanted attention. As he had hoped, Will is there to look out for him.

soaked through

Season 3 AU, where Will shows his face and instead of receiving pain, Hannibal receives everything he's ever wanted.

we don't need to heal

Tired of wasting resources dealing with a horrific Omega criminal who is definitely not insane, the BSHCI and the FBI decide that the best course of action is to have him mated to an Alpha who can keep him under control. Find an Alpha for the job, and Hannibal Lecter can be out of their hands for good. Will Graham enters the BSCHI, believing himself to have been selected to interview the notorious killer about a cold case that has recently been attributed to him. What he finds instead will change their lives forever, and leave him wracked with guilt. Hannibal, on the other hand, could not be more satisfied with how things panned out for them both.

distraction

Hannibal smiles, purring softly, and leans down to nuzzle Will's forehead. "You needn't be so distressed, darling," he murmurs. There is blood on Will's neck, and his cut palm smears more fresh up his mate's bare forearm. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbows, so he can give Will all of his scent. Hannibal licks the smear of his own slick on Will's cheek, his purr for a moment growing louder. "When have I ever denied you?"

tables turned (dead dove!)

When Will turns a gun on him, Hannibal goes into heat. Will decides to toy with him before giving him what he wants.

an unexpected guest

Ten-year-old Henry Lecter’s sitter just bailed, leaving him alone to watch over his younger siblings. And that would have been fine, had a man from the FBI not chosen that precise moment to show up at their door. or Will and Hannibal got a little too close in Naka-Choko, resulting in a surprise pregnancy. Rather than having the bloody canon break-up, they took their new family, including Abigail, and skipped off to Europe for their happily ever after. Enter Jack, tracking them down almost eleven years later in the quaint Italian countryside, with only young Henry there to protect the family.

stronger than memory (dead dove!)

"Your real name can't possibly be Schatje." "It's the only real thing you need to know, Will." “Fine, at least tell me what it means.” It wasn’t a question nor a request, but a statement. "It means little treasure." “And are you, then? A little treasure?”

cover to cover (the mark of a lover)

Will and Hannibal are both Omegas. After Tobias' death, Will takes Hannibal home. Hannibal comes to the realization that, if the world will not give him the Alpha he so desires... he will create one.

time reversed

Hannibal and Will traverse an unexpected intimate development.

black in the moonlight

With his upcoming dinner with Hannibal and Jack hanging heavy on his mind, Will is drawn to Hannibal's house in the middle of the night. What he finds there affects him—for better or worse, it's hard to say.

trick me twice

Hannibal and Will are leaders of allied gangs, and were friends at one point - until Hannibal almost killed Will and sent him to prison. Now he needs Will's pack, his numbers, to stop his own pack being overrun. Will might never trust him again, but there's no reason they cannot keep things professional. At least, that's what Hannibal tells himself, as he enters the BSHCI to ask for Will's help.

a rare bouquet

Will finds himself drawn in by the darkness at Hannibal’s core—something only fully revealed in heat when the violent deaths of his alpha suitors can be legally excused. When Will witnesses the aftermath of one of those murders first hand, he feels compelled to begin a courtship, wanting to see everything that lies beneath the surface. But what he seeks is not tame, and it will take more than flowers to earn its respect.

into the wild

Alpha Will stumbles upon a feral Omega in Lithuanian forests. Too fascinated to leave him be, he follows him, not knowing what awaits him.

genesis

The fish of Hannibal's trust is a spritely and skittish thing, but Will is patient. He can follow the bubbles in the water and the shining slip of scales within the currents. He can fashion beautiful lures, both mental and physical, to please and soften his mate.

brouillé

Unthinkingly, he reaches into the drawer and pulls out the top shirt, holding it to his face and breathing in. No bleach, only the faintest trace of salt sweat, and none of the bitter fear he had expected. Instead, what Hannibal inhales is the pure, unsuppressed scent of alpha. That’s all it takes. One. Deep. Breath.

use your words

“Don’t worry, darling,” Hannibal says softly. “I know just what you need. You’re here for a reason—because you need a Daddy to guide you. So let go of your preoccupation with control and let me take care of you.”

series: other people's hearts

Truck driver Will suddenly finds himself with an armful of bloody omega named Hannibal, far too young and pretty to be hitchhiking in the middle of nowhere, and to Will's horror… fast approaching heat.

on the grounds where we feel safe

"Single Omega household seeking a primary caretaker for high-school aged female. Must own vehicle for chauffeuring, errands, and other duties as necessary. Room and board provided, and a stipend for necessities available for negotiation. Must have open availability and be willing to submit to a background check and drug test. Immediate start." Then a name, and a phone number. Doctor Hannibal Lecter.

it takes two to nest

When Hannibal hears a commotion down the hall at the hospital, naturally he goes to investigate. When he finds out that the omega patient, a Mr. Will Graham, is struggling so hard that the doctors are having difficulties handling him, naturally he is intrigued. And when he finds out that the on-call OBGYN has been delayed, naturally he steps in to deliver Will's baby himself. Dr. Hannibal Lecter can do anything, after all. Including deliver someone else's baby while minutes away from going into labor himself.

sweet tooth

He has prepared for this, of course. No self-respecting Omega of his stature and skill would deign to let themselves be taken by surprise. Although, again, he has not expected his final heat to approach for some time, it is one of those occurrences people prepare for like Doomsday. He has plans, and bags packed, and knows what he will need to do, to make sure he makes it through the ordeal with minimal discomfort. The first step will be to hunt, to stock his fridge and his stores so he will not go hungry. The second step will be to find a suitable companion.

slow like honey

Hannibal’s childbearing years are behind him, but Will manages to send him into his first heat in years. Will offers to help him out—it’s the least he can do.

duty calls

Tonight, Will is hungry.

#lectercunt #lectercunt fanfic rec #lectercunt fic rec #ask #asks #anon #hannigram #hannigram fanfic #hannigram fanfiction #hannigram fic #hannigram fic rec #hannigram fanfic rec #omega hannibal #alpha will graham

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randomdarksidersblog27 · 10 months ago

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LITTLE GHOSTIE

Insparation from myriadblvck on Tumblr!

Little! Ghost x Caregiver! Soap

Summary: They're retired now,living a quiet life on the Scottish countryside. Ghost,Simon,wants to bring something up,but can't find the words to tell his lover. So he keeps it a secret,only indulging when he was alone. One day,Johnny catches him. It doesn't go as expected.

☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️

Insparation from myriadblvck on Tumblr!

Little! Ghost x Caregiver! Soap

Simon Riley was content,for once in his miserable life. He was happy,safe,loved,and content. He and Johnny had gotten a little cottage in the countryside somewhere in Scottland after they had retired from the 141,and the army in general. Too many close calls had finally solidified they needed to leave,especially after Soap's close call when he was shot in the head. After many months in a coma,many MORE months of therapy,and some time to decompress and recover,Soap had confessed his feelings for Ghost and the two decoded to move in together. No hesitation,they were past that. While Soap-Johnny,Ghost realized he could call him now-Dealt with the task force and the paperwork needed to finalize their retirement,Ghost looked for a small house to fit he and Johnny's lives. He found the perfect one and bought it on the spot. Once they were finally free,he and Johnny had spent like,three days,getting furniture and small things for the home. It was odd,the first few weeks,trying to get into a new routine. Trying to forget their training,to ignore the long sleepless nights when they're both up and trying to keep it together. But it slowly got easier,slowly got better. They could sleep until eight am now! A new record!

Today was one such day,when the two rolled out of bed at eight thirty am,Johnny sluggishly making his way to the coffee pot and pouring them each a cup. Simon stayed in bed,head swirling with negative thoughts. Why was Johnny with him of all people? What was so good about Simon? He was a killer,a horrible horrible person. Unlikeable,unlovable. The people he cared about had all left him at some point,whether it be by choice or by death. It wasn't long until Johnny left him too. That brought tears to his eyes. Loosing Johnny would break him. It was like taking away the sun! His sunshine,his love,his reason for living! Without Johnny in his life,Simon may as well just throw himself off the nearest building. Life wasn't worth living if Johnny wasn't in it. He was brought out of his thoughts by Johnny rubbing his back.

do. Simon made sure his love was indeed gone before making a beeline for the small extra room in the house. Digging into the closet,deep deeeeeep in the closet,he pulled out a box. He rummaged around inside of it and pulled out his sfatey item: a pacifier. Simon slipped it in his mouth and immediately began to relax. Johnny would be gone for a while,so now was as good a time as any to finally relax and destress. Changing into his favorite footie pjs,grabbing his blankey,and making himself a bottle for later,Simon let himself go into his littlest headspace,about a year old. He played with his colorful blocks,colored,and chewed his pacifier and teething rings.

Insparation from myriadblvck on Tumblr!

Little! Ghost x Caregiver! Soap

"Bad? Ya with me love?" He asked. Simon let out a small whimper and buried his head in the pillow. "Ah. Bad brain day ah take it?" Simon nodded. "Don' worry love. Ah ain't got much on the list ta do today. Lemme finish up what ah got ta do today and ah'll be more th'n happy ta pamper you okay love?" Simon nodded again,taking Johnny's hand and holding it close to his heart. Johnny rubbed his chest and leaned down,kissing his head. They stayed like that for a other hour or so,and soon Simon's head cleared a bit. They got dressed for the day,Simon kissing Johnny goodbye as his love left to go do the small odd things he needed to do. Simon made sure his love was indeed gone before making a beeline for the small extra room in the house. Digging into the closet,deep deeeeeep in the closet,he pulled out a box. He rummaged around inside of it and pulled out his sfatey item: a pacifier. Simon slipped it in his mouth and immediately began to relax. Johnny would be gone for a while,so now was as good a time as any to finally relax and destress. Changing into his favorite footie pjs,grabbing his blankey,and making himself a bottle for later,Simon let himself go into his littlest headspace,about a year old. He played with his colorful blocks,colored,and chewed his pacifier and teething rings.

He was so little,he didnt realize that Johnny had come back early. He didnt hear the car pull in,or the keys in the door. Didnt hear his love calling for him,or the door to the spare room open,or the soft gasp that left his love's lips. Simon wasn't aware of Johnny until it was too late,when curious hands gently grabbed him by his sides and bright blue eyes staring at him. Simon's mind went from child like,to horrified and surprised in one second. He ripped the pacifier from his mouth and sprinted to their room,closing and locking the door behind him. He was panicking. Johnny wasn't supposed to know about this! Johnny was going to ridicule him! Oh no no no no no. Johnny was going to leave him! Simon began to sob,clawing his chest and face. He couldn't breathe,couldn't think! He had been caught! He was in trouble! Was that Johnny banging on the door,or his heartbeat in his ears,Simon couldn't tell. He fell to his knees on the floor,sobbing and crying and panicking. He didnt notice the door opening and suddenly,hands wrapped around his middle and brought Simon into a lap. Simon began to scream and fight,clawing at the arms encircling his waist.

"Shhhh shh shh baby. S'okay. M'here baby,m'here." Johnny's voice soothed. Simon couldn't do much,other than sob and apologize and fight agaisnt his arms. He soon tired out and slumped against Johnny's strong chest. Johnny held him close and rocked him,kissing his head and cheeks. Once Simon was calmed,Johnny sst them on the bed.

"Wanna tell me wha' this is all abou'?" Johnny asked,gesturing to the onesie and pacifier still clipped to it. Simon hiccupped and wiped his eyes.

"I-its a stress reliever.....I'm a little......I-I go into a headspace younger than I really am to deal with trauma and stress and anxiety......I used to do it when I was a teen,but....."

"But wha'?" Johnny prompted. Simon wrung his hands together.

"Dad found out.......cause of one of my ex's........beat me black and blue,threw away all my things....he's the one who gave me these." Simon explained,pointing to his Chelsea Grin scars. Johnny gasped.

"Oh mah love! Why din' yeh tell me sooner?" He asked. Simon flinched away and clawed his arms.

"Cause you'd hate me too! I know you do,I'm a weirdo! A fucked up pervert! Fucked in the head,screwed,dumb!" He screamed. Johnny frowned,grabbing his hands.

"Stop tha'. Baby,I'm not judging yeh. Ah'm curious. And if this helps yeh relax,ah don't mind helping yeh. We can talk abou' this later,fer now,yeh need some sleep. An' some bandages. Stay here." He said,standing straight. Simon flinched again at the tone,going frigid. He had heard that tone before,from his father. He was in trouble again! He back to weep softly as Johnny left the room and came back,arms full of bandages and medical stuff. He sat in front of Simon and began to work on his arms,cleaning the shallow cuts and bandaging them up. He soon moved to Simon's face and coo'd softly.

someone to take care of him,many of his wounds and scars being fromnwhen he got hurt when he was little.......and Johnny seemed to REALLY care......mg maybe......maybe he could trust Johnny? Simon whimpered and began to sob,reaching for Johnny. Johnny picked him up and rocked the little.

"Ah got ya lil' one. S'okay. Let it all out baby doll." He soothed. Simon sobbed everything he had into Johnny's neck,chest aching afterwards. Once he was done crying,Johnny wiped his face and tickled his sides. Simon squealed and squirmed in his caregiver's hold.

"Aaaaaaah,got a ticklish baby don't oi? Lookit tha' smiiiiile." Johnny praised. Simon blushed and hid his face,whining. "Oh what,mah pretty baby doesn't like being complimented? Tough luck,Ah'm gunna compliment ya all tha' time." Johnny said,smiling wide. He sat Simon back in his highchair and started to feed him. Simon was reluctant at first,but gave in finally and let his caregiver feed him. He finally felt more relaxed,freeer. His head was full of warm cotton now,all he could do was be baby. A good baby for his caregiver! That was his newest mission,Simon decided.

Insparation from myriadblvck on Tumblr!

Little! Ghost x Caregiver! Soap

"Wanna tell me wha' this is all abou'?" Johnny asked,gesturing to the onesie and pacifier still clipped to it. Simon hiccupped and wiped his eyes.

"I-its a stress reliever.....I'm a little......I-I go into a headspace younger than I really am to deal with trauma and stress and anxiety......I used to do it when I was a teen,but....."

"But wha'?" Johnny prompted. Simon wrung his hands together.

"Oh mah love! Why din' yeh tell me sooner?" He asked. Simon flinched away and clawed his arms.

"Cause you'd hate me too! I know you do,I'm a weirdo! A fucked up pervert! Fucked in the head,screwed,dumb!" He screamed. Johnny frowned,grabbing his hands.

"Oh love,wha's with th' cryin? Ye aint in trouble." Johnny said softly. Simon sniffled and tried to move his head,but Johnny kept a firm grip on his cheeks as he began to clean and bandage his face. "We need ta cut yer nails baby,they're a bit too long." He joked. Simon paid no mind,just dreading the conversation he KNEW was to come later. But now,his eyes felt heavy. His body felt heavy.......he wanted to nap and never wake up. Johnny laid him down on the bed and tucked him in,kissing a part of his face that wasn't injured.

"Sleep well love." Johnny whispered to him,before Simon fell asleep.

When Simon woke next,it was night time. Johnny wasn't in the room,sounded like he was on the kitchen. Simon sluggishly made his way there,peeking around the corner. Johnny was cooking lord-knows-what,but that isn't what caught Simon's eye. It was the colorful plates and cups on the newly formed HIGHCHAIR inbthe middle of the kitchen. A BIG highchair,looking more for an adult rather than a child.......what? Johnny heard Simon enter and turned,smiling.

"There's mah baby boy! Didya sleep well suga?" He asked,making a beeline for Simon and easily scooping him into his arms. Simon made a surprised noise and wiggled.

"P-put me down ya damned twat!" He shouted. Johnny tsked and swatted his bottom.

"Now now,no fussing. Dinner time lil' one." He said simply and set Simon in the highchair. Simon was......dumbfounded,to say the least. What.....what the hell was going on? He sat in the highchair,surprised it was supporting his weight at all,when Johnny served the food. Chicken nuggets and Mac and cheese,one of Simon's personal faces for when he was very little. How did Johnny know this? Simon eyed him warily,crossing his arms across his chest and refusing to eat until Johnny explained. Johnny sighed and pulled a chair close to Simon,hands on his thighs. Just rubbing circles into them,thats all.

"So,ah found yer little journal when ah was cleanin'." He started. Simon froze. Fuck,he thought he had put that up! That explained everything about little him! From his youngest,to his oldest headspace! Fuck,Johnny had read it? Is that was this was about,teasing him and torturing poor Simon? He began to tear up and was going to yell,but Johnny held up his hand.

"Lemme 'splain baby doll. Ah ain't teasin' ya. Ah WANT to be apar' o'this. Ah WANT ta help ya. Seems like yeh've been alone fer quite some time angel.......tha' ain't right. Let me help ya baby......" He begged. Simon felt his throat close up with how GENUINE Johnny sounded. He needed someone to take care of him,many of his wounds and scars being fromnwhen he got hurt when he was little.......and Johnny seemed to REALLY care......mg maybe......maybe he could trust Johnny? Simon whimpered and began to sob,reaching for Johnny. Johnny picked him up and rocked the little.

They had a new routine now. Simon was almost permanently little at this point,but Johnny didnt mind a bit. His baby was so cute! Those perfect blonde tresses all messy from a good night sleep,or from rolling around under his mobile. His baby Si was adorable. Simon didnt seem to mind either,only midning when their friends or Price came to visit. But all took a shine to Baby Simon. Even Price offered to babysit when Johnny had to go do some stuff out of town. Simon had cried himself to sleep after Johnny had left,but he green to like Price and when Johnny came back,he was greeted with the sight of Simon playing peek a boo with Price. It was the cutest thing Johnny had to see. Now,every morning,Johnny would wake and get things ready for Simon. A nice fresh bottle of his favorite tea,a fresh nappy,and clothes laid out so Simon could pick what he wanted to wear. They went out here and there,but Simon was mainly big for those trips. Sometimes he'd slip and start sucking his thumb,but Johnny was there to catch it and quietly tell him. Once they got home,Simon was little once more and clinging to Johnny like his life depended on it.

One day,Johnny got the surprise of his life. He was doing paperwork for an odd job he had picked up,when he heard footsteps and little giggles. Johnny smiled and turned to see Simon waddling towards him with a paper in hand. Paperwork long forgotten,Johnny picked Simon up and sat him on his lap.

"And what do ah owe the pleasure of such an angel vistin' me?" He coo'd,kissing Simon's cheeks. Simon flushed red and handed Johnny the paper. Johnny looked at it,and his heart MELTED. On the paper was Johnny and Simon,laughing at something in the distance,or nothing at all really,and the words 'Baby' above Simon,and 'Daddy' above Johnny. Johnny teared up. He.....he was being called Daddy? Finally? Did Simon trust him that much?

"I-I'm Daddy baby?" He asked Simon,who nodded and cuddled close.

"D-Dahdee." He lisped behind his pacifier. Johnny hugged him tightly,sons falling from his chest.

"Oh angel! Oh mah baby boy,yeh have NO CLUE how happy tha' makes me! Ah'll be th' best Daddy ever swee'hear',ah PROMISE!" He sobbed,kissing Simon's head. Simon blushed and nuzzled Johnny,yawning. Johnny vhuckled and stood with Simon in his arms. "Nap time." He said. Simon didnt fight him,already half alseep. Johnny laid him in their bed,crawling in beside him,and pulled Simon to his chest. He would brag about this to their friends later,for now,he wanted to cuddle and nap with his baby. Johnny swore nothing would hurt his angel anymore. NOTHING.

#little!ghost #little!simonriley #cod #codagereg #soapghost #john soap mactavish

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aruanimess · 1 year ago

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I was reading @diam-etrical's inspired by The Hunger Games AU (which by the way is amazing and you should go read it if you haven't already) and had some thoughts on Peeta and Armin as mirror characters, mostly in terms of what this comparison brings to Armin's characterization (since I obsess over aot at the moment), which I decided to share with y'all.

So Armin is and isn't Peeta Mellark. They're both highly intelligent, skilled orators and perceptive. They have the ability to read people and to sway them in their favor. Also, especially in comparison to their more self-centered love interests, they both have a strong sense of morality.

However Peeta's thesis in the beginning of THG (which follows him throughout the story and shapes his character arc) is the line "If I'm going to die, I want to still be me," which is fundamentally antithetical to Armin's maxim "someone who can't sacrifice anything, can't change anything" (in the context of Erwin losing his own humanity for the greater good). What's more, Peeta's story proves Armin's philosophy wrong. Peeta very clearly defines the outcome of the games by his commitment to his beliefs and principles, by preserving what makes him human and when that is lost (in mockingjay), we as readers but also katniss as a character in the story, mourn this side of him and understand it to be a loss too great.

The thing is though, Armin's story also kind of proves him wrong (to a degree). On one hand, Armin is incapable of letting go of Eren and the image of him he remembers from his childhood: the strong, brave Eren who fought for justice. Ultimately, this inability to accept that Eren has changed is what clouds his judgment concerning Eren's motivation until it's too late. On the other hand, Armin ends up disagreeing with Eren that the Rumbling was for the better (I'm disregarding the "thank you for becoming a mass murderer" line because I interpret it to be for Eren's benefit--meaning that Armin was trying to comfort his best friend at that point). His last actions in the story are about him being opposed to Eren who deemed the outside world worthy of sacrificing for the greater good of the Paradisians. Therefore, even Armin himself by the conclusion of the story is not willing to sacrifice everything.

And yet, Armin is not entirely wrong. Armin makes great sacrifices to achieve peace and to do the right thing. He is willing to risk his life, his friend's lives, the chance to be with the woman he loves, Eren (both in the sense of Eren's life and in the sense of Armin's idea of Eren). Armin is even willing to besmirch his own reputation (in his eyes) by naming himself Eren's killer; it is a burden he's willing to bear for Mikasa, but also to pacify the Marleyans. These sacrifices are crucial in order to prevent perpetual conflict.

In the end, Armin's quote is more about compromising than about giving up your humanity and empathy.

So the main takeaway from paralleling these to characters, at least for me, is that there are things that are worth sacrificing (toxic beliefs, your personal comfort, an oppressive status quo) and things worth preserving (ideals, life, love). Violence may be necessary to enact change, but in order to maintain the positive impact you created, you need to be able to drop your weapons and find common ground.

#armin arlert #armin meta #aruani #guys I'm losing my mind #deranged ramblings #long post

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jinx-on-mars-19xx · 7 months ago

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Face Down

(Kill Somebody Like You Part Two Chapter Sixteen)

🔪Previous Parts Here🔪

Dom x Colson (Yungblud x Machine Gun Kelly)

Warnings: ABO dynamics (knots, slick, heats, mpreg), alpha serial killer/hitman Dom, omega mob boss Kells, cursing, past abuse, past SA, control issues, breastfeeding, voyeurism, d/s dynamics, top Dom, bottom Kells, rough sex, bruises, biting/marking, blood, following instincts, improper use of breastfeeding pillow, messy sex, hormone cycles, teasing, hurt/comfort, honest moments, loving boys, enemies to lovers ❤️‍🔥 Rating: explicit

All ideas helped by @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker 🩷

Col couldn't breathe right for a moment. His mind was running too fast and tripping over every thought. He could hear his mate jacking off like a clock ticking down and it made him even more nervous. He looked down at their son and he knew even though Punk was his excuse it barely had anything to do with him. No. Hell, the kid had been closer to the action not a month before and probably getting pushed around in his womb. He could easily keep the baby from seeing anything and he wouldn't remember shit. It was all about him and his control issues. He loved his partner but he'd never truly let go. Not even really during his heat. He'd begged before and even presented but Dom was asking for him to fall completely to instinct and let him lead.

He could see the irony here. Of course he could. It hadn't been all that long before that he'd been pleading for the other to let him present. He'd literally asked for this. He'd been desperate for his Alpha to let himself be exactly that but with everything going on he was scared to lose control. It was all he had. He literally had to lead his fiancé to let him present before, basically had to drag him by his knot. He wanted this. Fuck, he needed this. He just didn't know how to give in.

The wet sound of Dom’s play slowed and Kells bit his cheek in worry. He knew that meant his mate felt him hesitating. “Never-”

“Don't you dare.” He huffed before the younger man could finish his statement. He couldn't let him back down now.

“Wha’ the fuck?” Dom sounded more than confused and probably a little on edge. He was torturing him really.

“Don't fucking back down. Don't give up. Don't just let me out of this! Be what you are. Be my fucking Alpha!” With the last word his voice broke and he looked back at his lover. Dom was shocked and pink all over. He was a gorgeous mess and just seeing him so close and so lost made up the omega's mind all over again.

“Fine. Get on the fucking bed and present for me before I bloody well make yas. You can multitask omega, it's literally wha’ ya made for.” The last felt debasing and made the mob boss's thighs even wetter. He shouldn't enjoy it after fighting against it so damn long but of course he did. It was from Dom.

He obeyed even though he was unsteady on his feet. He grabbed his feeding pillow on the way to the bed and tossed it down sideways, he could lay Punk against one side and use the other under his stomach to push his ass in the air. He stumbled as he got into place but once he was settled he curled his toes in the carpet. His legs shook where they were stretched out off the end of the bed. He couldn't see his partner but he could feel the boy moving around the room. He worried he was shaking so much his ass cheeks were jiggling- not that he had near as much as his Alpha. His nerves amped the longer the other took but after a minute Dom tossed a pile of things next to the pillow. Punk's blanket, his burp cloth, and his pacifier. How did he get so lucky to find such a thoughtful future husband, even mid-rut he thought about what their child would need that they wouldn't be able to get while knotted.

Col took a deep breath. He could feel Dom pressing himself between his spread legs. He wasn't terribly nervous, they fucked all the time but this felt different. New. Intense. When his mate didn't move more than that though he asked- “Change your mind?”

“Shut up. You ain't the only one wiv issues ‘ere.”

“Oh I know. Just do it? Just… I dunno, shove it in?” It wasn't exactly sexy talk but they were both awkward when they should be talking about actual emotions.

“Oh fanks. Never would ‘ave fhought of tha'. Ain't exactly keeping me up wiv tha’ as ya dirty talk.”

“So you need help keeping it up? Already?”

“Shut up!” It wasn't said in a mean way but Dom was obviously overwhelmed. He didn't mean that he didn't get rock hard over his gorgeous mate, of course he did. Colson was a sex god just lying there. He hated being nervous over something their bodies were made for and his rut was taking the edge off but not completely. His mouth watered as he looked over his lover, from his long muscled tattooed back to his small but perfect ass, to where he was dripping wet between his legs. His cock jerked as he let the sight and scent overtake him. He had to let himself let go. “Jus’ trying to decide if you deserve it.” There, that was playful.

“I don't.” Kells admitted softly. Honestly- at least in his mind. He didn't mean to be so open in the moment but he couldn't help it. He felt soft and vulnerable in that position. “I never have.”

Dominic blinked. And blinked again. He was used to his partner being a pompous ass, not him acting like his Alpha was somehow better. “Yeah. Right. I'm well nice aye? So much better. I fink you forgot who ya talking to.” They just kept losing their wood so to speak, though neither was going soft. They were just in a place that let them open up and maybe they needed to before they took this step. It shouldn't feel different, they're done this a few times but they both knew what they were asking of each other.

Col tried to turn his head and he couldn't imagine how demure he looked glancing over his shoulder from under his lashes, his gold gaze searching out Dom’s red one. “I know exactly who I'm talking to and I've never deserved you. How many times have I hurt you and you've forgiven me? How many times have you just allowed me to be a dick to you? I know I can't really change it, not with who I have to be to everyone else but… I don't deserve you. You take everything and keep loving me as much as you always have.”

“I don't love easily. When I do it's forever. You ain't as badarse as you fink you are. Least not to me.” Dom teased. He knew the other was talking about the times he'd hit him but he didn't want to think about that now. His instincts wouldn't let him. He was the fucking Alpha here. He just needed to show it.

Kells took the quiet moment to look down at their son, he was half asleep with milk spilling out of his lips but still feeding. Punk was fine. He felt Dom lay a palm against his lower back and he pressed down until the pillow under his belly was almost too much. He could breathe but everything felt tight and his core tingled when his mate teased the head of himself through his folds. He didn't speak. He wouldn't ruin the moment again. His bottom lip rolled between his teeth and he tried to spread his legs even further open. He wasn't as bendy as the other man.

Dom pressed forward and the first few inches of him slipped inside. Colson was still open, they'd just been fucking, but with the pressure he kept steady the tightness was almost too overwhelming for him. It was exactly what they both needed. “Fuck.” He cursed low, his voice barely more than a growl as he sunk home. His lover's cunt was hot and tight and- “So fucking perfect.”

Colson flushed. The compliment felt too much in the moment and he almost wanted to wiggle away but he couldn't. Not with that grip and not with what they were doing. He had to give up his control. “Yeah, you are.” He replied instead and his partner pinched his ass with his free hand. Dom always felt huge but with the press of the pillow and his hand he felt massive. His pussy felt so tight around him that he could feel every pulse of his heartbeat through his dick. Or was that his own? He was pretty sure they were racing in tandem.

Dom paused a moment, he was happy to stay sheathed inside his partner but he knew the other needed more. He was already so close just from the pressure but he took a breath and rolled his hips back, finding a pace that made his omega whimper. His touch wandered until he had a hold of Col’s hip. He couldn't move his other palm but he needed the leverage. His lover's body accepted him perfectly and the sounds of how wet he was drove Dom even closer. He fought his own pleasure but his baser instincts were taking over. He could feel it in the roughness of his thrusts and the growl rumbling in his chest.

The omega was so tempted to let himself get more involved but the position he was in kept him pliant. He was being used for his Alpha's pleasure and that more than anything pushed him closer. With every roll of Dom's hips they squelched together but his mate was growling so loud it was hard to hear. He was a mess of slick and whining moans but he couldn't add more than that. He had to just let himself be lead. “Alpha? Mmm fuck- h-harder? L-let go?” He tried to beg and the other snapped his hips hard. It was a warning, he wasn't allowed to question anything. He had to be a good bitch and take it. His cock was a hard line against his stomach, getting grinded between himself and the pillow. The squeeze was almost too much but the pain-pleasure was heaven. He finally let himself go limp under his mate.

The killer felt the moment his lover relaxed and it almost broke him. Instead of letting himself bust he hovered over his man and bit a red mark into the skin over the top notch of his spine. The noise Col let escape was something he'd never made before. It was soft and needy and beautiful. It felt like a prayer and he intended to answer it but first- “Good omega. Take it. You want it?”

“Please? B-breed me? Knot me?” Colson could barely speak but he forced out the words his mate needed to hear. It might be cliché but they needed that. His mind felt soft and pink and floating but he couldn't find release without Dom's.

The Alpha couldn't keep his palm settled anymore but neither of them needed it. His thrusts were going wild and pushing Kells further up the bed until he had to drag a knee on to the mattress to keep them steady. He curled his body over his lover and licked and bit every inch of skin he could reach. “Mine.” He growled and sunk his fangs a little too deep until he tasted blood. He wanted to roll in it but there was never enough.

“Yours.” It was one of the first times Col had replied that instead of claiming his Alpha right back. Of course Dom was his but admitting he was the killer's added a different edge to their relationship and it shattered something inside the boy.

Colson felt his mate's knot slip inside his cunt and pop back out too fast to clench around. His hips canted back back he had no control and Dom’s rut wasn't quite ready to let them rest. His partner got rougher, his touch claiming, his bites deeper, his thrusts having to fight to move. His spot felt swollen and his dick was leaking a messy puddle against his belly but he couldn't cum without- “Please Alpha?”

Those whined words were all Dominic needed and his body shuddered as he fucked deep and grinded his knot inside his omega. He trembled with the first wave of his pleasure and it knocked him down until he was chest to back, skin to skin, their bodies sticking together. He tried to keep moving but the moment he popped it pushed Colson over the edge as well and he gushed so hard for his Alpha they were drenched down to their toes. Dom lost his leverage and just let their bodies work it out. He didn't have to move to keep their orgasms going, his knot did it for him. He could barely breathe and he could hardly stop the steady growl that vibrated in his chest but Kells seemed to enjoy it and he wondered if it somehow made everything vibrate.

The omega didn't know what noises he was making anymore, he was too lost to his rapture. He felt wet everywhere and warm all over. The weight of his lover was reassuring and it felt like it kept him from floating away. He'd never experienced this kind of pleasure before and it was almost too much, but he couldn't stop it. He didn't want to. Not really. His womb felt full and his skin buzzed everywhere Dom had bitten him. He was marked up and completely owned and he could admit to himself he'd never felt safer. More himself. Shit... He had dropped for the killer hadn't he?

They'd never felt more like one being and Dom let himself bask in it. He wasn't sure how often he could get himself to act like that let alone convince his mate to drop for him so sweetly. He wouldn't take advantage of it and he'd never push. He was just thankful they had at least a few days to enjoy each other so instinctually. He pressed come down kisses to his partner's neck and flicked his tongue over sweat and blood wet skin. The flavor of his lover was heady and intoxicating but he wouldn't lose himself. Not completely.

When his cock finally slowed it's jerking and he was pretty sure he was done emptying inside the older man he pushed himself up and to the side so he could check on both his mate and baby. They'd be locked together for a while, he couldn't help it, but he was settled enough to form words he thought. “Did we smoosh ‘im?” He teased and his omega chuckled softly, raising his shoulder so Dom could see their boy.

Now that Punk was done eating and half asleep Colson eased him off his chest and patted his back. It was a difficult position but they worked it out. It helped that Dom was trying to be useful too. It didn't take them long working together to get the little one napping and as soon as they could they rolled themselves to their sides to rest. The moment they did Dom wrapped himself around his partner and Col realized the other side of his rut was him being a giant teddy bear. In every way possible he wanted to claim the boss and in his quiet moments Kells could admit it was nice. Reassuring. Adorable even, though he wouldn't say so out loud. The beginning of their day rushed back to him and he laughed. “Do you think Jimmy Boy learned anything?” He didn't have to look to know Dom had completely forgotten too.

The Alpha giggled and nuzzled his face against his partner's neck. He had no doubt James saw at least the beginning but they weren't anywhere close to done. Maybe it was a strange way to show how little someone scares you but he hoped he made his point to the other Alpha. He couldn't care less what he tried. He was nothing more than a pest and Dom would always focus on his family. “Ya know he a virgin. He talks too bloody big to be anyfing else.” He teased, though he didn't have faith in the fuck to think he hadn't used omegas like tissues. It was more a joke than anything.

“If he fucks like he shoots he probably can't even find a pussy to fuck one.” Colson shrugged. He honestly hoped the asshole had a way to listen in. “Not that he matters. Mmm, how long before you're hard again?”

Dom arched a brow and teasingly bucked his hips forward. He was still rock hard and it made his omega moan. “But if ya mean ‘ow long before I need anover round? Eh, a couple ‘ours probably. Jus’ rest luv.” He purred, softly rocking them in bed. It was both comforting and enticing, there was no way to make his cock go back down but their instincts were calmed for the time being. They could both use a nap before they lost themselves in each other again.

It didn't take long for them to both be sucked under, their bodies were tired and their minds content. They were sleeping so soundly they didn't notice the door open or hear soft footsteps across their floor. They didn't catch someone they trusted taking the stranger's phone and they slept through the intruder picking up their youngest to watch him for the day. They didn't wake when the other laid a blanket over them or snuck out with their two stolen items. They didn't notice because the scent was a familiar one and there was no threat. Only a hope to stop the madness before it got any worse. Someone besides them felt too responsible and wanted to save the family if they could. Whether they said he could or not. It wasn't like they would notice anything amiss any time soon.

Author's Note/Tags: @iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker @hollywoodxwhore @jaxbreaker @fenoy7 @cole-way-iero28 if anyone wants tagged let me know 💛

I'm not sure if this was up to my normal writing but I'm not feeling my best. I wanted to get a chapter out for you all though because I missed a few days. I hope it's alright and you enjoy the boys letting themselves be ruled by their instincts. It's nice to see Kells drop a little. I wonder which of them stole the phone and the baby? I wonder what they think they can do. Hope you're enjoying it still ❤️‍🔥🖤

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revvnant · 3 months ago

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how would michael react to a genuine apology from william at various points of his life. (ignore that william is chronically incapable of doing this.) sits and thinks. - @slaughterlocked (from this!)

send me a topic to write a meta about my muse on

he would accept it unquestioningly, and probably be better for it! he loves william, and will forgive him anything, really; his brain is elastic and malleable, and he's getting his baseline established here. the inconsistency -- and probably decrease in meaningful apologies as time goes on -- are going to wreck his emotional processing, but not yet. for now, an i'm so sorry buddy is enough to pacify him. in later years, maybe around ten to twelve, is when he starts accepting half-baked apologies not because he truly forgives william, but because he wants his father to be happy with him.

there are two distinct phases here: pre- and post-bite, so think thirteen to fifteen before and fifteen to nineteen-ish after. pre-bite, he is a shaken soda bottle of hormones, and i think him not giving a rat's ass about william's apologies probably lines up with the apologies stopping ( but correlation does not equal causation here; i think william stopped 'apologising' before michael stopped 'accepting' them, as they moved into the 'you're an adult i shouldn't have to do this' era ). he wishes his father would apologise more, and he's chronically angry that he doesn't. he has a huge chip on his shoulder about being treated unfairly, and he ends up causing problems in school as a result. if william were to apologise to him and mean it, he'd probably be stunned. he might actually brush it off due to not knowing how to react, which i doubt would go over well with william ( essential part of the cycle to me that he perceives michael as not being receptive to 'his best efforts' when michael has been conditioned not to expect it and therefore doesn't have the tools to do anything about it ).

after evan is a different story. his ass is never getting an apology for anything now! he's the killer! and being the killer supersedes everything! to a degree this is deserved -- he literally killed his brother -- but i think as time passes william uses it as an excuse not to apologise for the unrelated harm he does, because he can always fall back on not throwing michael in jail or disowning him after he murdered one of william's precious children. if he apologised in this period, i think michael would start throwing up for real. he doesn't believe he deserves it he would fall on his sword just to avoid it. extremely fucked in the head era it's no longer 'i don't know how to respond to that' and has digivolved into 'i will never deserve an apology again because i am the devil'. ( this makes the blowups rarer and significantly worse. )

late- / post-elizabeth, pre-scoop era. real codependency years for these two imo and they may mutually apologise for little things, especially after elizabeth dies. not to be gauche but that's when the 'playing field' is levelled, so to speak: william is responsible for not watching elizabeth and for putting her in a dangerous situation, though mike 1) doesn't know the details and 2) partially blames himself for not being there. still, it's enough for him to be like. i am not the only fuckup here. again, unhinged, but this house is genuinely rancid in every way so we cannot be surprised. i view this as the calmest their relationship gets. less fighting in general means less to apologise for. but if william apologised now, michael would forgive him, full stop, because in a way, he'd be forgiving himself. he'd finally be permitted to say 'this is a thing that can be moved past' using william as a proxy, because he couldn't ever give himself a pass. subconsciously, of course. but yeah he'd accept anything. he's so scared of losing the only family he has left. he might actually cry.

post-scoop era FUCK YOU, BITCH. APOLOGY NOT ACCEPTED DIE ONE THOUSAND DEATHS. finding out about the dead kids blew the whole thing wide open your ass is NOT forgiven and you are going to hell. he wouldn't believe william capable of an honest apology after so many lies! michael might say he deserved to die, but he wouldn't forgive william for his role in his death, and he wouldn't feel justified accepting an apology on behalf of the murdered children. you don't just have him to apologise to anymore. apologise to them and to the town and to his siblings and to god. and also die again as established.

#slaughterlocked #w3. headcanons #abuse cw #|| IT'S DIRE.

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brandwhorestarscream · 9 months ago

Note

Lockprowl ask

I had suggested IDW lockprowl, because I saw an interesting fanart about them

It has been a looong time since I read IDW and I'll be completely honest: I had no recollection of IDW Lockdown and had to look him up to refresh my memory on his design. Do I remember his personality at all? No. Is he still a husky voiced bounty hunter in my heart? Yes

I'm gonna recycle an old concept here, and say that Prowl is actually the one that gets sparked first. Maybe they're actually a couple and this is a schmoopy alternate timeline where all is well and they're happily living together, married and content. Maybe it's like canon and they have a very on again, off again relationship.

Regardless. Prowl is the one who's sparked, and there's immediately worry of the baby growing too big for him to safely birth. This wasn't planned at all, and situations where the carrier's frame is too small can quickly turn lethal. Prowl in a slight panic immediately jumps to termination, but Lockdown suggests an alternative: a transplant. There's no way the bitty's size could be too big for him, and, well. He's not averse to the idea of being a parent with Prowl.

They caught the carrying cycle early so the transfer would be swift and painless. The earlier a baby spark is moved, the better, generally. Prowl consents to the operation, and they get scheduled right away. Thankfully, it all goes extremely well: the newspark anchors to Lockdown with barely a flicker, and his carrying protocols online to begin preparing to begin designing and constructing their sparkling's body.

Prowl is... not quite anxious, about being a sire. Worried, maybe? Weary? Bracing for impact? No, he's more like... apprehensive. Yes, that's the word he'd use to describe himself. He's apprehensive about parenthood. After all, having a baby is practically a full time job. They need a lot of care, around the clock. They're so fragile and so easily impressionable: one seemingly tiny, inconsequential mistake could follow them for the rest of their lives and shape what kind of person they could become. They need constant love and attention smd supervision, and they're both so busy. Perhaps it's pessimistic but he's approaching this with shrewd realism: as it stands now neither of them are ready to properly care for a sparkling. They're making a baby, an entire person. Someone that will someday be a fully fledged adult with a functioning psyche that they are responsible for sculpting. If they mess this up they could make the worst serial killer the world has ever seen, so they need to get their act together and be perfect parents.

He becomes... idk. Is there a word for like a groomzilla but for expectant parents? Because he's like that. Super anal about everything, down to the tiniest detail. Everything they buy from blankets to cradles to pacifiers goes through rigorous investigation, he reads instruction manuals and manufacturing info cover to cover, and he is extremely strict while choosing everything. He's already making a road map they'll need to follow to put their kid on a path to proper adulthood: they'll need to make sure they build the little one's confidence with children's groups early on, and make sure they are always readily available for the first several years or else the baby could develop attachment issues. They'll need the kid to be learning their glyphs by X age, and to be able to count by the time they're Y. He's narrowed down a list of acceptable schools for every age range, as well as researched the possibility of homeschooling just in case the public and private education institutions don't live up to his high standards. He spends a 20 hour period doing nothing but reading every recent study on sparkling psychology he can find, and he's already reserved a private room at the best hospital Cybertron has roughly around the due date.

Lockdown is honestly shellshocked. He gives me the vibes of an old fashioned, small town or perhaps country mom: as long as his kid is well fed and isn't bleeding and has a smile on their face, he knows he's doing alright. He'd definitely have a more hands off approach to parenting, letting their baby explore and make choices for himself. Isn't that enough to build confidence? Prowl rebukes him saying they're going to responsible for a living person, and they owe it to their sparkling to give them the best possible life. They're making the decision to bring them into this world, a decision that the baby has no say in, so they should at the very least give them the best possible chance to succeed and live an easy life.

To keep him busy, Lockdown let's Prowl take the reins on the majority of the prep. If he wants a fancy stroller without a certain strain of plastic in it, that's fine. If he wants to flip through hover cradle FAQs til his optics cross to find the most perfect one, so be it. It keeps him busy, and Lockdown honestly doesn't care about make or models or even color schemes. He's not too fussed about what they get, so long as baby is happy and healthy.

When the big day comes, Prowl thought he was prepared. He had everything squared away, had prepared extra energon and an overnight bag for the hospital and had transport on standby. He'd gone over his checklist every day since they enter the last few decacycles leading up to the due date.

But then Lockdown starts having contractions and he fucking blue screens. He's been running his systems so high strung and stressed that when the actual trigger happens, his processor crashes. Like actually crashes. Lockdown just grunts and presses a servo into his belly, gritting his denta and saying, "Yeah, it's time for the hospital, darlin'." and Proel gives him that standard deer in headlights look, optics flashing brighter than they ever had and something audibly pops in his helm. His lights go out and he drops like a sack of flour, smoking a tiny bit, and Lockdoen sighs. Rolls his optics, picks Prowl up under his arm, and heads to the hospital on his own.

Prowl comes to about half a megacycle later, once they've already been checked in lmfao. He's such a mess, he'd be drenched in sweat if he was human, and Lockdown nor Ratchet have ever seen him this flustered. Ratchet is delivering because Prowl insisted: there's no one better to do the job, and he'll trust no one but the autobot's CMO. Primus knows Ratchet is the only person Prowl would trust to save his life in a dire situation, he's the only one that Prowl trusts to safely deliver their sparkling.

He's pacing all over the delivery room, going over his checklist and feverishly looking through their hospital bag, so grateful that Lockdown grabbed it. He apologizes profusely for fainting like that, but his partner isn't fussed about it. At this point the contractions aren't painful, just a bit uncomfortable, and Lockdown switches between laying in the berth watching TV and doing laps around the room with his mate for several hours. It's his first sparkling, after all: it's going to take a long time before the sparkling is in the right position and his body is actually ready to deliver. It's a rather long labor, thankfully uncomplicated, but they're at the hospital for about 15 hours before they actually get to a point where they can start pushing.

Prowl, thankfully, doesn't pass out again, but has no idea what to do with himself while the medical team is setting up the stirrups and taking measurements and telling Lockdown to get ready to push. He's not sure if he should stand with his partner and hold his servo or if he should stand behind the doctors and watch firsthand as his sparkling is born. In the end, he does both, standing parallel to the berth with his left servo holding Lockdown's, the other peering over the privacy screen and watching the very moment their sparkling is born. Lockdown handles his labor like a champion, pushing out an exceptionally chunky sparkling in less than 15 minutes.

Their son is a big, round little marshmallow, black and white with a set of little green horns and huge blue optics. He's healthy and strong, latching onto his carrier's fuel lines without issue. Prowl is mesmerized by him, he's so proud in that moment, and Lockdown is on cloud nine cradling their newborn. He's so cute. So round and warm and snuggly, he never wants to put him down. Prowl's plans have all gone out the window--yes, he even had strict plans for post-emergence bonding--but he's lowkey short circuiting. He looks so tiny being held in his carrier's arms, and there's not a coherent thought in his head while he watches his son, mystified. The first time he holds him, he nearly crashes again. It's a good thing he's sitting down 🤭 the baby happily snuggles against him, content and starting to blindly suckle at his chassis in soft, wet kisses searching for more fuel. Prowl hasn't cried a day in his life but he gets damn close in that moment, and immediately turns to Lockdown to utter a heartfelt, whispered, "Thank you, for giving us this miracle."

#ask game #lockprowl

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malue-505 · 2 years ago

Text

Appearance

Basic Info

Title: The Pacifier

Other Aliases: Unknown Babysitter, The Feminine Shadow

Real Name: Sydney Alexandria McQuoid

Species: Human

Gender: Female (Cis)

Age: 25

Birthday: March 3rd

Sexuality: Heteromantic Demisexual

Personality: Sly, Delusional, Motherly, Childish at times and a bit arrogant.

Height: 5ft 9in

Side/Affiliation: (Will later on be revealed)

Relationships Info

Relationship Status: Taken by BlackJack, her boyfriend (An OC of mine)

Known Family:

Mathew McQuoid (Father, Alive)

Venessa McQuoid (Mother, Alive)

Heather McQuoid (Daughter, Deceased)

Mary Anderson (Aunt, Alive)

Julia Svensson (Aunt, Alive)

Chloe Anderson (Cousin, Alive)

Harry Anderson (Cousin, Alive)

Viktor Svensson (Cousin, Alive)

Friends: (Will later on be revealed)

Enemies: (Will later on be revealed)

Killer Info

Weapons: Scissors (If she doesn’t have them currently she’ll make due with whatever is around her)

Strengths: Athleticism (She has a bit more stamina and is quite flexible) and stealth

Weaknesses: Any normal human weaknesses (Being stabbed, being shot, pain, etc.)

Catchphrase: “Cat got your tongue?”

Activity: She exclusively becomes active at night and is close to never come out at day.

Killer Signature: Tongueless babies, toddlers and children accompanied with a handwritten note.

Who does she kill?

She doesn’t really kill, though what she does to her victims might end up killing them afterwords. Her victims are usually babies, toddlers and children up to the age of 6. She does not kill teenagers and adults because, due to her past, she feels like she can sympathize with them. That does not mean she wouldn’t kill for self defense however.

What does she do to her victims?

She first sneaks around a neighborhood and pears through windows to see if the household has any young children. Once she is sure, she will break in when all the residents are asleep and sing lullabies to their children. However, if the victim begins to cry/show signs of not trusting her when she’s “nurturing” them, she will use her scissors to cut off their tongues as a way to “silence” or to punish them. She will also occasionally leave a note behind for the parents warning them to properly take care of their children.

What is her motivation?

Most of this is explained in her origin story but for short: since she’s a former mother, she feels as though she was given the right to judge if a child is misbehaving and if the parents are at fault. She basically acts like an entitled parent.

Origin Story

(Summarized version)

Sydney’s parents were always busy working at their university so they never had the time to fully raise her, the nannies that they hired did that responsibility for them instead. During high school, she was a cheerleader thus making her popular and eventually gaining a boyfriend, in which he has gotten her pregnant leaving Sydney to find out at the day of her senior graduation.

He had left her after hearing the news therefore leaving her to raise their child on her own. Throughout most of her early adulthood, Sydney had become devoted to taking care of Heather by working several jobs, making her sacrifice her own wellbeing. On Halloween night, she was then tricked by Laughing Jack into accidentally killing her daughter.

Ever after doing something horrendous, she actually felt liberated from overworking herself. She made up a new alter ego for herself: The Pacifier, the woman who mercies the good children while punishing the bad ones who don’t enjoy her motherly presence.

Extra Info

Likes: Cats, singing lullabies, baking and children who behave.

Dislikes: Messes, being in broad daylight, crowds of people and misbehaving children.

Trivia:

She sometimes collects the tongues to add to the collection she has, it’s not uncommon for her to leave the tongue behind.

Her mask was originally made for her daughter for Halloween as part of a black cat costume.

Her parents own and run a university called “McQuoid Institution.”

She regularly exercises whenever she isn’t out stalking.

She has an odd fascination with baby dolls and sometimes steals them from victims.

She hates messes, especially messy crime scenes and will very often clean up after herself.

The necklace she currently wears is from her daughter since they used to wear matching necklaces.

Her ancestry is Swedish and Indian however she is not connected to either of her cultures due to her parents not raising her.

If she met Laughing Jack knowing that he was the one that he was the one that tricked her into killing Heather, she would actually be grateful and thank him considering that he was the one that helped liberate her from her stressful lifestyle, albeit indirectly. (This is purely hypothetical since they will never cross paths again, this is not canon to Laughing Jack)

Theme Songs

(More will be added)

Milk and Cookies - Melanie Martinez

Come Little Children - Hocus Pocus

- Malue <3

#creepypasta #creepypasta au #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta oc #creepypasta headcanon

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