#or a curse it took me so long to draw this fucker

[blizzardrunner]

incredibly menacing but is SO nice about it

[fieldofdaisiies]

Joel x Reader | By Your Side

type: angst warnings: blood, talk about death, curse words, word count: 2.1k words summary: first time writing for Joel, so please be kind; after your first kill of a man who was infected by the fungus Joel is there for you, helping you deal with it. 

–all rights reserved–

Air wheezes in and out of your lungs when you collapse against the brick wall behind you, slowly sliding down when your knees give in, having been wobbly all the way back. The blood rushing in your ears drowns out all the other noises, you cannot make out a single spoken word.

You try to steady your breathing by focusing on a point on the opposite wall. You shiver when your eyes narrow in on—god, have mercy— on the blood splotches on the wall opposite from you. You lower your gaze only to find your own in blood covered hands. Bile creeps up in your throat, the content of your stomach souring. You feel your heart rattle, beating unsteadily when cold sweat breaks out on the back of your neck.

“No, no, no.” 

Squeezing your eyes shut you try to shut down the memories that slowly creep into your brain, sinking their invisible claws into your mind like a hungry wolf, their fangs piercing through your heart, shredding it apart. 

You draw in a shaky breath, shaking your head, your heart rapidly beating against your rib cage. A breathy sob parts your lips and it is then that you feel warm, callused hands on your face, a presence appearing in your vision when you blink open your eyes. They burn, the fluorescent light to bright, the dust stinging in them.

“I…I—“ Your throat constricts, the words dying down. Through a blurry vision you meet Joel’s gaze, his expression soft, understanding, sympathetic, warmer than usual. He closes his eyes for a moment and leans closer, his forehead nearly touching yours. “I know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath a soft caress on your skin. You allow yourself to revel in the feel of his hands on your face, the protection and safety they offer, trying to forget the memories for a moment. The moment does not last long.

“I killed someone.” “He was infected.” “I still killed someone. I took his life. He died right in front of—“ Your voice breaks before you can finish your sentence, the back of your mouth aches, your throat burning. Tears brim your eyes when you give your head a little shake and look past Joel. You can no longer stand the pity in his eyes. Or rather…you don’t want him to have to deal with you now. He has too many things on his mind already, too many things going on and now you were this crying, whimpering mess. 

“The first kill and all that follow are never easy. You think I am enjoying it?”

You bite down on the insides of your cheek when his thumb brushes under your chin, carefully tipping it up and lifting your gaze to his. “No, but it seems so easy for you,” you admit, a gloomy grimace spreading over your face.

“It destroys me every time,” Joel bites out. “Unless it is one of those fully developed fungus fuckers. Taking someone’s life is never easy. But what you did today was good, was necessary. You did everything right.”

“He probably had family,” you say through barely parted lips.

“Yes, and they have probably been already infected. There was no saving for him. He would have died either way, you protected him from something worse than death.”

Your eyes close gor a moment, you listen to the breath Joel takes before you part your lips and say, “There is something worse than death?” Your eyes clash with the soft brown of his the moment the words leave your mouth. 

“There is,” he says in a dry tone. Tormented by his own trauma, it is incredibly difficult for Joel to see you like that. You have been his partner for a while, aiding him and Ellie, but never having to kill on your own. Until that very day.

A crack appears in his heart when he watches your shivering figure, knowing he has to help you somehow. Has to ease the pain, the shock in any possible way. “Let’s get you cleaned up, huh?”

He regards you silently for a moment, scanning your body to see if you have any visible wounds or if it is just the blood of…the other one.

Raising your shoulders and letting them drop again, you purse your lips. “Will this haunt me forever?”

“Honest answer?”

“Always.” A tear slips out your of eye. 

Joel moves into a crouching position, one hand now braced on the wall beside your head, his other still on your face. “Yes, it will haunt you for a very long time. I wish I could take it away from you somehow, wish I could tell you something else, but I also don’t want to give you false hope.”

You nod your head in understanding, liking his honesty. If he had lied it might have calmed you for the moment, but on the long run it would not have helped. 

“So? You want me to help you get cleaned up?” There is some odd tension in the air when he says this. It is not like….it is weird between the two of you. There obviously is some attraction but for some reason neither of you can fully allow to give in to your feelings. Like something is holding you back.

You know your reason for it. The loss of your former husband is still poignant in your brain, having seen him getting infected by the fungal infection, having his life taking by no other than Joel. You have hated him so much for doing that. Now, five years later, you understand that there has been no other way. This what had to happen. But when you think about the life you have taking today you know that if this man had a wife, a child, parents, they all must feel the same way you did and this…this destroys you. 

You know his reason as well. He cannot allow himself to love again. Because with love comes hurt, comes pain, comes heart break. It is something he wants to avoid at any cost. And you understand that, understand that probably better than anyone else.

Pictures of your late husband’s dead body flash in front of your vision. His dead eyes, his—

“I am sorry,” you bring out and shove Joel out of the way before bending over and emptying your already half-empty stomach out. Right onto the floor next to the two of you. 

A large hand fists your hair, one hand soothingly brushing over your back when you spit out some saliva. “Don’t apologise,” Joel reassures, a sense of guilt heavy in the air. He partly feels guilty for your pain. He has taken your husband’s life back then, knowing this still haunts you. And now he has told you to take that man’s life while he shoved Ellie out of the way, keeping her safe. A tangy, bitter taste fills the back of his mouth — guilt, sorrow, regret. 

Moving into a kneeling position, you sit back on your heels and glance at the man next to you. “I am filthy, you don’t have to help me clean up, I can do this alone.” His answer comes almost immediate, his compassion warming your chest. “I don’t want you to be alone.”

You are not alone. Even though this does not erase the tormenting memories, it offers you sense of relief, of peace. You are not alone in this. You have someone. Someone to protect you. To keep you safe. Someone that is there for you.

Joel gets up first, tugging at your wrist and helping you stand. He lets one arm glide around you, his other sneaking under your knees so he can lift you up. “You are still in a state of shock. I don’t want you to faint,” he explains when he brings you to his chest, holding you so tightly like his life depended on it. You lean into his warm, solid chest, finding comfort in his scent, his presence. Slowly you dip your chin, single tears slipping through your closed lids. Thy roll down your cheek and taste salty in your mouth. Parting your lips, you draw in a shaky breath, pressing your head against his chest and letting him carry you over to the room that is supposed to serve as a bathroom. There is a broken shower, a sink that actually works and a toilet, that sometimes works. It is this toilet, the lid closed, where Joel sits you down. You lean back a little and open your eyes. 

A grimace spreads over Joel's face when he bends forward and leans further over you.

“Are you well?” you ask when you glimpse up at him. He steadies himself on the filthy sink next you and bows his head, the corner of his mouth lifting an inch. “The knee.”

You understand. He has had some issues with his knee lately. “Don't worry about it.” 

But you actually do. He shuts you up though, shaking his head, knowing you would have like to protest. “Let’s see. Did he hurt you somehow?”

“No.” Your answer is tight because you can’t allow to think about the fateful moment any longer. You know he has not hurt you dramatically so you won’t think about it any further.

Fishing out some old, and slightly dirty cloth, Joel turns on the croaky tap, the ceramic membrane of the sink already breaking and splintering on some edges.

He dips the cloth into the water and then softly wiping it over your face, brushing your hair out of your face with his other hand. His eyes follow the movement of the cloth, his mouth a tight line. 

“If I hurt you, you have to tell me.”

You nod and offer him a small, sad smile. “People who kill others on purpose, or for a living cannot own a heart,” you say into the silence of the room. 

“Hm,” Joel mumbles but offers no more of an answer. Done with your face, he lets the cloth glide down your neck, to your shoulder. “I am sorry you had to experience this today.”

“Don’t apologise. You all have to do this every day. It would have anyways happened someday.”

Contemplation and some emotion you cannot quite place appears on Joel’s face and he lets his hand drop for a moment. “It is just hard seeing you hurt,” he opens up, a beautiful, but sad smile on his face. “I don’t like this. And I don't like being the reason for you sadness.”

“You are not.”

“I am. I told you to kill him.” “You did what to have to do.” “For what price? That you are now haunted by this forever.”

You stand quickly, knees still wobbly so you tumble forward slightly. Breathing the same air, you are mere inches from Joel, coming eye to eye with him. “It is not your fault. I have spent so long blaming you for my late husband’s death which was wrong. Now don’t take this blame on you as well. I have nothing to blame you for. I killed the man, and as hard it is to accept, I did it and would have done it without you telling me to do so.” You move even closer to him, the cloth in Joel’s hand long forgotten. “Deep in the back of my mind I knew that it was the only option, the only thing that could be done. It had to be done.”

For a long moment Joel says nothing. His eyes close and he draws in a deep breath. When he opens his lids again, he regards you silently, his features softening, his eyes warmer. 

“So strong,” he says, his gaze trailing over your face, halting on your lips for a bare second before moving back to your eyes. “And brave. And—“ You are the one to close the distance between the two of you, pecking his lips softly. But he is the one to deepen the kiss, not letting you pull back when his hand moves to the back of your head keeping you in place. At first the kiss is careful, soft until it turns a little more passionate, exploring. His tongue eases your lips apart and you connect in a yearning, hungry kiss that has you both panting when you part. “I wasn’t done,” Joel whispers, his soft breath caressing your lips. “And kind. Smart. Brilliant. And with a heart of gold.” You allow yourself to smile, it does not fully reach your eyes, but it is a good start. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ all blame for me spending my Sunday afternoon writing this goes to @moonlightazriel @bubbles-for-all-of-us @brekkershadowsinger @swansworth because you got me obsessed with this man and this show just when I thought I would not enter another fandom also absolutely check out @bubbles-for-all-of-us story Butterfly about Joel!!💛

[libraryofneith]

Out of Mind Chapter 1 (Joel Miller x Reader)

Chapter 2

This is my first The Last of Us fanfic : D This is based on the HBO show, not the video game - i don’t know how to video game. I’m also still getting to grips with how Tumblr works so if my fanfics don’t look as swish as some other fics do, bear that in mind. If you have any tips let me know! I’m also on AO3 under the same username and I tend to update that first. You can check out this fic and my others here.  

Summary:  You're a pickpocket trying to make a living in the Boston QZ, what happens when you cross two of the most dangerous smugglers in the city? 

Well if you've read any TLOU self-inserts, or any self inserts at all for that matter, you can probably guess : )This is probably gonna be a long one, we're talking some serious slow cooking here. But I promise you it will be worth it. There is gonna be some serious lemony goodness when it comes, like really really lemony, so look away ye minors or people of delicate sensibilities (no seriously i mean it).Until that comes we're gonna have it all - morally ambiguous characters, angst, more trauma than you can shake an hbo show at, hurt and comfort, maybe a little fluff if you ask nicely and so. much. pining!!!!!

Preview:  You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ.

Warnings/Tags: [18+ minors DNI], Boston QZ era Joel, Pre-Ellie, not Tess slander, reader and Tess are friends, slow burn, like really slow burn, slow roast cooker here, mutual pining, age gap - reader is 27 and Joel is 50, he’s my depiction of a fictional character and I’ll thirst if I want to, angst, hurt/comfort, trauma, attempts at healing, not everything about these characters and their relationships is healthy but it’s an apocalypse so sue me. 

Joel

Today was not a good day.

The sun was beating down unrelenting on Joel as he stalked through the streets of Boston trying to get as far away from the unconscious FEDRA soldier as humanly possible. Apparently that little shit thought that five ration cards for a bag of anti-depressants actually meant three ration cards and a gun in his face. The only thing Joel had taken away from that trade was the look on the guard's face when his fist connected with his jaw. At least he'd gotten the drugs back. If he'd come back to the apartment with ration cards and the stash gone Tess would've been pissed - or more pissed than she was already going to be. Maybe if he stopped by the courtyard he could trade with...

Oof!!!

Joel cursed as he crashed headlong into some stupid girl.

"Oh shit sorry."

He gave no response to her apology except a grunt.

"Oh... shit, sorry," she repeated, the words now laced with innuendo. "Wouldn't want to harm a hair on your lil' head." Who's that short-ass calling little'?

"Don't sweat it. Takes more than a bump to bring me down."

"Oo I bet it does." She was standing toe-to-toe with him now, eyes glinting, her hand stroking up and down his arm. "I wonder what it takes to bring you down." Her hand lingered and her smile threatened to draw him in and for a moment, he almost found himself leaning towards her. Then he snapped back to reality and brushed her off.

"Sorry. Not interested." Last thing he needed today was Tess giving him the cold shoulder all night. Still, he let his eyes follow her a little. She was too young for him by half but no harm in looking. Just looking. She wasn't unattractive, not unattractive at all. Like almost everyone in the QZ she looked like she'd seen better days but there was something in the way she walked, bounced almost, like she was ready to take on every fucker who tried her. And her eyes... shit. Her eyes had caught him staring. She flashed him another smile but he tore himself away, already burning her image out of his mind. A cold shower, a few pills, and a glass of whisky and it'd be gone.

"Took you long enough." Tess was already nursing a bottle when he got home.

"Hello to you too."

"What happened?" Joel sighed. He could never keep anything from her.

"Stupid fuckin' kid wouldn't pay up. Things turned ugly."

"You ok?"

"Yeah, but if that FEDRA bastard wakes up he's gonna have one hell of a headache." Tess grinned.

"So you got the stash back?"

"Yup. Gottit right he-" Tess's face fell and Joel's stomach sank as he pulled out a clear plastic bag filled with marbles, not pills.

"Joel what the fuck?!"

"Someone must've switched the bags."

"Without you noticing, how?"

"I don't know." His entire body was quivering with rage.

"Maybe it was that stupid FEDRA kid..."

"No. He's not that smart." The apartment was filled with a stony silence as he tracked back everything that had happened after the deal had gone south. He knew he had the bag after. Then he'd gone straight home, he hadn't seen or spoken to anyone after. Well, except...

"Oh." Then it dawned on him.

"What?"

"That fucker."

"What Joel. Who was it??"

He could picture her now. The glint in her eyes, that confident stride as she walked away from him, that smile, that damn smile.

"I'm gonna kill her."

---

You

You grinned as you examined the bag. One week's worth of happy pills. And after you met with Robert that bag would be seven ration cards.

You were almost disappointed at how easy it had been. One cheeky smile, a suggestive lilt in the voice and that guy could barely tell his ass from his ear. So much for the Clint Eastwood of the Boston QZ. You'd still have to lay low for the next few weeks until Tess and Joel gave up on finding you. From what you'd heard these people were not to be fucked with. Of course you had anyway but after tomorrow you'd be able to kick back and relax until your supplies ran out. Tiny Dancer blasted through your walkman as you laid back on your mattress surrounded by books, sweets, cigarettes and everything else that almost no one but you had.

Things were finally looking up.

Hope you enjoy, more to come. Like and reblog if you enjoyed, if you didn’t send it to your enemies.

[bigsoftmarshmallow]

I'll be honest with you, I just can't see Demise as a demon. Not in the way that Judeo-Christians use the word. For one, only angels can become demons. Some say that demons can only experience pain. They are also evil. Period. Like, unequivocally evil & thus irredeemable.

Which, for me, is a major part of what draws me to certain nefarious characters: their redeemability.

So, if Demise were to suddenly be just flat out the Judeo-Christian interpretation of a demon, I may well just lose all interest in him, because how the heck do you work with something like that? There's no changing that. No hope in endeavoring to do so.

I'd be naive to even try. Luckily for me, LoZ is originally a Japanese game with Japanese Shinto & Buddhist themes, which means that shit becomes much more open to interpretation. It's also important to note that “demon” was most likely only used due to it being the most immediate, surface-level approximation to what Demise is supposed to represent: "evil supernatural being of great power." In other words, it's a mistranslation.

A more accurate idea of what he represents comes in the fact that Demise is just, outright, a reference to the character Akuma from Street Fighter. Just, there is no denying it, the fuckers have the same face.

So, in my mind, this gives me much more clearance because in Japanese Buddhist lore, they are instead embodiments of negative karma & spiritual affliction. And, unless I'm misremembering, I’m pretty sure that anyone can become an Akuma with enough on’nen. Plus, I read somewhere that they gain power from the amount of lives they take. Not sure if true, but it could be interesting.

They are also known for the types of curses that Demise placed on Link & Zelda. (Though, this was specifically an instance of a death curse.) And those curses actually have a much more clear means of breaking them. One that falls more readily in-line with what I intend to do with the Dorfs: redemption. Or rather, letting hatred & resentment die. Because, that’s, in essence, what fuels such curses, so you take away the source of the curse’s power, then the curse dies.

Which isn’t something that could happen if Demise were just outright a Judeo-Christian demon. And, again, I would simply find him remarkably uninteresting as a result. In all honesty, I'd find it ridiculously pitiful. Like, even more so than I already tend to see Demise.

For real, “Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

I love your takes! I kept rereading it (which is why it took so long to answer) because I DID take a religions class in college and I remember having a creatures/gods/spiritual component to it, but alas, my brain is Soup.

Look at him. Anggy bean. So petty. I like Akuma from Streetfighter as well, not as much as Demise, but he's an interesting character.

I also never associated him with Demons from the Judeo-Christian ideology. Seeing as we all have so many different movies, books, series with different sorts of Demons, he just became what someone called a "Demon." I love your take on it! I got some ideas from it, so I asked chat on it's thoughts:

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So, what kind of Demon is Demise, or is there some other creature Demise is more like? Feel free to use any ideology or religion to compare him and find something close to what he is like.

Demise, as presented in The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword, indeed doesn't align with the Judeo-Christian concept of demons. Instead, he fits more comfortably within Japanese cultural and religious frameworks, which provide a more nuanced and flexible understanding of such beings. Let's explore some possibilities:

Japanese Shinto and Buddhist Concepts

Oni (鬼):

Description: Oni are ogre-like demons in Japanese folklore. They are often malevolent and associated with causing harm to humans, but they aren't intrinsically evil and can sometimes be benevolent or protective.

Comparison: Demise's immense power, malevolent nature, and role as a harbinger of destruction resonate with the concept of an Oni. However, Oni can sometimes be redeemed or placated, which aligns with your interest in redeemable nefarious characters.

Akuma (悪魔):

Description: In Japanese, "Akuma" can mean demon or devil and is often used to describe malevolent supernatural beings. The character Akuma from Street Fighter, whom Demise visually resembles, embodies the concept of a warrior consumed by dark power and negative karma.

Comparison: Demise's role as an embodiment of negative energy and his curse on Link and Zelda suggest a nature similar to that of an Akuma, where immense negative karma manifests as a destructive force.

Tengu (天狗):

Description: Tengu are mythological creatures often depicted with both human and bird-like features. While they can be tricksters and sometimes malicious, they are also protectors of the mountains and skilled martial artists.

Comparison: Although not a perfect match, the dual nature of Tengu—capable of both good and evil—mirrors the potential for complexity and redemption in Demise's character.

Hindu Concepts

Asura (असुर):

Description: Asuras are powerful beings often depicted as antagonistic to the gods (Devas) in Hindu mythology. They are not purely evil; some are depicted as noble and capable of righteousness.

Comparison: Demise's immense power and his antagonistic role towards Link (a heroic figure) bear similarities to the Asuras, who are formidable adversaries to the gods yet possess complexity and depth.

Rakshasa (राक्षस):

Description: Rakshasas are demonic beings known for their shape-shifting abilities and malevolence. However, they are also complex characters with personal motivations and occasionally noble traits.

Comparison: The malevolent nature of Rakshasas and their intricate personalities align well with Demise's portrayal as a powerful and malicious entity with the potential for a deeper backstory.

Conclusion

Demise is best seen as a being akin to an Oni or Akuma within the context of Japanese folklore and Buddhist lore. These entities are embodiments of negative karma and spiritual affliction, capable of immense power and malevolence but not devoid of the potential for redemption. This interpretation allows for the depth and complexity you appreciate in nefarious characters and aligns with the themes of curses and their potential breaking through the relinquishment of hatred and resentment.

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BONUS ROUND: What would happen if someone suddenly appeared before Demise and yelled at him, “Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

If someone were to confront Demise with such a blunt and disrespectful remark, it would undoubtedly elicit a strong reaction from him. Demise, being a proud and immensely powerful entity, would not take kindly to being insulted and belittled in such a manner. Here's a possible scenario of how he might respond:

Scene: Confrontation with Demise

The air crackles with an oppressive energy as Demise stands in the heart of his dark domain, his immense presence casting a shadow that seems to swallow all light. Suddenly, a figure appears before him, seemingly out of nowhere. With an audacity born of either bravery or folly, the figure yells:

“Dude, you cursed 2 people for eternity because you got pissy that some twink beat your ass. That’s the most toddler-coded shit I've ever heard & you should feel ashamed. That’s just… pathetic. Move on!”

For a moment, there is a stunned silence. The atmosphere grows even heavier as Demise's burning eyes lock onto the intruder. His expression shifts from surprise to a cold, simmering fury. The ground beneath his feet begins to tremble, and the air itself seems to vibrate with his anger.

Demise's Response

Demise: (in a low, menacing voice) "You dare speak to me in such a manner? You are either incredibly brave or incredibly foolish."

He takes a step forward, his immense form towering over the intruder. The sheer intensity of his presence is almost suffocating.

Demise: "You speak of curses and eternity as if they are mere trifles. You have no understanding of the power I wield, nor the reasons behind my actions."

His voice rises, echoing with an ancient and terrifying power.

Demise: "That 'twink' you speak of is but a vessel, a mere incarnation of an eternal struggle. My curse is not born of petty spite, but of a destiny intertwined with the very fabric of this world."

With a swift motion, Demise raises his hand, and dark energy begins to coalesce around it, forming an orb of malevolent power.

Demise: "You will learn the price of your insolence. Perhaps then you will understand the true weight of eternity."

Before the intruder can react, Demise unleashes the orb of dark energy, engulfing them in a vortex of power. The intruder is overwhelmed, their vision darkening as they feel the crushing force of Demise's wrath.

Aftermath

As the dust settles, Demise stands tall, his expression returning to one of cold indifference. The confrontation, though brief, serves as a stark reminder of his dominance and the consequences of challenging his authority.

Demise: (softly, to himself) "Pathetic, indeed."

He turns away, the shadows of his domain closing in around him once more. The intruder, if they survive, would be left with a newfound understanding of the ancient, inexorable force that is Demise.

In summary, confronting Demise in such a disrespectful manner would likely result in a swift and harsh punishment, reinforcing his status as a powerful and malevolent entity who brooks no insolence.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

I wish you would write a fic where... aiden & lambert, one gets badly injured and the other has to make the decision of going after the monster (stop it from killing people) or saving his partner, facing the consequences of his actions, if you want to! 💕

This ended up evolving into a multi chapter. I'll be posting the full thing on A03 also but for now. Chapter 1!!!

Aiden could only stare. There was blood. Too much blood, and not all of it coming from the warg. He and Lambert had been ambushed by four of the fuckers and the two of them had taken it in their stride. Nothing they couldn't handle. At least - it wasn't- until an unexpected fifth one took Lambert by surprise, teeth sinking into his shoulder and shaking so hard it had pulled the Wolf Witcher off his feet. Both he and Aiden had cursed as they heard Lambert's collarbone and shoulder splinter under the force. Aiden hadn't even thought before sending a blast of igni at the other four to hold them off whilst he drove his sword straight through the skull of Lambert's assailant. The others bolted at some point during this, whether from the fire or what had happened to their packmate, Aiden didn't know and didn't care.

"Shit, Lambert. It's ok, you're ok."

Even pale and half unconscious from blood loss, Lambert still managed to fix Aiden with a deadpan stare as he tried to assess the injury around the sharp teeth. Apparently even in death the thing was unwilling to give up it's grip, jaws locked into Lambert's flesh. Perversely, it also looked like that was the only thing preventing Lambert from bleeding out completely and potions would do next to nothing until they figured out a way to remove it. Aiden swore under his breath. This was bad, this was very bad.

He became aware of distant screams - probably from the small collection of shacks that had called itself a village that had thrown rocks and insults at the two of them after they had the audacity to merely pass through. Fleabags would be going for the sickly looking livestock. He internally shrugged. So long as the villagers did the sensible thing and stayed indoors until they moved on, they'd be fine while Lambert was barely clinging to consciousness at this point. He slowed in his work when it occurred to him that those who randomly attacked two Witchers probably had very skewed ideas about what was sensible and stopped completely when he thought on little faces peering out from doorways or from behind their mother's skirts.

His gaze flitted between his injured Wolf and the direction the wargs had gone in. His Schoolmates would be encouraging him to ignore it right about now. Afterall: He and Lambert had done nothing to earn their ire and it wouldn't even be a paying job. Fuck the village. Lambert on the other hand....

"Fucking Hell." Stupid Wolf school and its stupid moral code rubbing off on him. "I'm sorry Lambert. I have to..." Lambert's eyes fluttered as his head jerked in what may or may not have been a nod, Aiden pressed a kiss to dry lips, "Just hold on a little longer for me. Don't go anywhere." Lambert made a guttural noise Aiden chose to believe was a laugh as he sprinted out into the open pastures they'd ridden through not twenty minutes earlier.

He caught sight of four large, dark shapes just on the outskirts of the village, feasting on an unfortunate heffer while a handful of very stupid village men appeared to be making their way over, armed with nothing but various pieces of farming equipment. His anger rose with each step closer. The image of Lambert's face, the sound of his scream replaying in his head over and over again.

"Oi!" He barked out, drawing both swords as he charged and ignoring the surprised exclamations of the men as he overtook them, zeroing in on the largest Warg, "To me, you fucking mutts!!!"

Aiden remembered absolutely nothing of the fight. All he knew his clothes were sticking to him wetly and he had blood dripping from his hair directly into his eyes as he stood heaving in front of four absolutely decimated carcasses which no longer bore even a passing resemblance to the things they'd once been. The villagers who had dared venture out of their homes stood in a semicircle absolutely reeking of fear and unsure if or how to approach. One little face that had stared at him curiously earlier was now absolutely terror stricken. Not that Aiden blamed them, no doubt he looked like something out of a nightmare right now. He growled instinctively when he saw someone raise a hoe and attempt a shuffling step forward out of the corner of his eye, causing them to immediately lower their makeshift weapon.

"We don't want no trouble."

"Neither do I." Aiden rasped out as he sheathed his swords, his throat feeling like he'd also been screaming at some point, "I'm going to get rid of the bodies and then you're going to let me pass."

Before anyone could say anything else he once again cast igni, setting each corpse alight in quick succession and using the momentary surprise to bolt through the crowd that parted seemingly on instinct. His footfalls mocking him the entire way.

Lam - Bert, Lam - Bert, Lam - Bert.

"Pup!?" Aiden yelled as he stumbled back to where he'd left Lambert and paused. The Warg's head which had been imbedded in Lambert's shoulder was now lying nearby, the lower jaw at a grotesque angle where it had been near snapped off. Lambert himself was unconscious and propped up against a pack, naked from the waist up and with bandages wrapped around his shoulder.

"What the-"

Aiden was cut off as he was sent flying backwards by a powerful blast of Aard.

"Get the fuck away from him!!"

[vhagarsflame]

His Sapphire Queen

Summary: Aemond was meant to die over the God's Eye fighting his uncle Daemon. However, he did not. He returns, broken and bleeding to Kings Landing when he finds that his sister Rhaenyra has taken his Throne and hurt his wife. He will have his revenge, he will stop at nothing to protect her and his kingdom. He even brought Daemons head as a gift for his usurping sister...

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife

Warnings: Graphic violence, beheading, NSFW, blood, gore and Saviour!Aemond. Aemonds POV.

Word count: 2,9 k ps: Written in a few hours, in the middle of the night, with a headache. Please ignore grammar mistakes. This post is constantly disappearing: can also be found on AO3 under the same name!

King Aemond Targaryen, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm was shaking. His sword was heavy in his hand as he commanded Vhagar to fly higher. The Stormlands were famous for their treacherous weather and today was no different. He shook the water out of his face and spurred Vhagar on. She roared in compliance and flew faster. He knew from the beginning that this had been a trap. All of it.  He had left. He had left her. Alone.  He was so bent on revenge that the second he had heard that his uncle Daemon had gathered a host at Harrenhal to wait for him he had left. He had left everything behind and raced for the castle, the cursed castle of Harren the Black, overlooking the near bottomless lake The Gods Eye. He had come upon Harrenhal to find it empty and burning. Daemon had put everyone inside the walls to the sword. And then he had waited for his nephew, for 17 days. Waited long enough to draw him away from Kings Landing and his Queen, waited for Rhaenyra to sack the city in his absence. And she had. Violently. 

Daemon had said as much when he mounted Caraxes and laughed in his face. "Your pretty whore won't be as pretty when my wife is finished with her!" he had spat.  Aemonds rage knew no bounds. He had commanded Vhagar to follow Caraxes, and she did. The much smaller Bloodwyrm would be no match for the legendary War Dragon. Daemon knew it too. Aemond knew it was kill or be killed, as he soared higher on Vhagar trying to spot his uncle in the massive thunderclouds. The fucking fiend and his wyrm had the advantage, they were smaller and therefore more difficult to see. But now, Vhagar had smelled them, and there was nothing he could to to slow her down as she dived for them. They had hid close to the ground, hiding among the blood and broken bodies of Harrenhals army. They took off again as soon as they saw Vhagar diving for them, flinging remains left and right. Aemond could still remember the twisted bodies and agonising expressions of the people speared on the gates of the castle when he had arrived. 

"Where the fuck are you." he grumbled as he clung to his sword. The steel had gotten slippery and hard to hold on to because of the blood caking it. His hair whipped at his face as Vhagar soared up again still looking for the Wyrm and his rider.  The bolt of flame came out of nowhere, Aemond barely escaped it by throwing himself forward on Vhagar shielding himself behind her wing.  They had been at this for days, Aemond knew Vhagar was tired, he could hear her laboured breathing and he knew they had to finish soon otherwise both she and him would plummet to their deaths in the Gods Eye.  "Fight me you fucking coward!" Aemond screamed to the winds, unsure if his uncle actually heard him. "Even your cunt of a wife has more balls than you!" She did in fact, she had taken a city while Daemon nailed people to the gates of Harrenhal.  Vhagar veered left and opened her massive jaws, she roared and unleashed her dragonfire upon the world. Her flames were black as night, they were hot enough to melt armour and cook the fucker wearing it from the inside. The flames engulfed the castle his uncle was currently hiding behind and streaming rivers of molten rock, mortar and iron washed down the sides of the big tower.  The Bloodwyrms screams of pain engulfed the night, and Aemond knew she was wounded badly. But, somehow she was still flying. Aemond cursed the gods and rode Vhagar closer. His uncle was limp in the saddle, Dark Sister still in his hand, deadly fury in his eyes as he flew past them, then above them. And then he leaped, just as Caraxes lost his fight and fell, he had used the momentum and the thick hide of his dragon to jump, straight for them. He had done so on Vhagars blind side and she had no idea what had hit her. She was more interested in the falling carcass of Caraxes, eager to take her trophy. 

Aemonds uncle collided with him in a clash of valyrian steel, flesh and teeth. His helmet had fallen off hours ago and his left arm was hanging limp by his side. Aemond no longer had his eye patch and the sapphire gleamed in the lightning storm that raged around them. 

Aemond tried his best to guide Vhagar and fend off his uncle at the same time, but his uncle was smarter. He drove his sword through Vhagars wing, forcing her to land, forcing her to stop defending her rider. By doing so he had managed to hack loose one of the straps holding Aemonds saddle and he could feel it slipping between his legs. Daemon held on to the other side of Vhagar, clinging to the chains for dear life. Vhagar fell. They fell faster and faster every moment and Aemond knew he would be crushed in the fall, so would his uncle for that matter, but that would render his revenge unfulfilled.  With a roar to scare the gods Vhagar used the last strength she had to land on her legs and not on her rider and his traitor uncle. 

Aemond managed to climb back up in the saddle just before she crashed to the ground and got the upper hand on his uncle. His leg was stuck beneath Vhagars body and he could not move.  "Go on then, nephew. Kill me if you please" Daemon grunted, his face caked in blood and his hand still holding his blade.  Aemond just sneered.  "Unlike yourself, uncle. I am not a coward or a traitor and I will beat you in a fair fight. Drag your carcass out from under my dragon and face me like a man" He spat and retreated a few steps.  His body was still working, he was sore and stiff but not gravely injured. The scratches, cuts, bruises and burns would heal. His uncle would not. Aemond watched him as he tried to rise and understood that his left arm was ripped out of its socket. Daemons armour was almost falling off him, the straps had finally reached their limit.  "I was killing on the battlefield before you were even born!" his uncle said as he came toward him, sword raised and eyes blazing.  Aemond didnt answer, he paid attention to his feet and moved fluidly around his uncle. Stepping around the puddles of guts and severed heads lying on the ground. Slippery.  The once so fierce warrior Daemon Targaryen looked nothing like he had in his youth. He had grown puffy and lazy during the peace, started his training again during the Dance. Aemond had held a sword everyday since he learned how. Gruelling practice every day for years, he had been trained by the best swordsmen in the realm. What he didnt learn from them, he picked up in books, reading about battle after battle and tactic after tactic. 

Aemond kept moving around his uncle, making sure not to turn his back against him. Daemon was tired. It was plain as day, and then his uncles violet eyes hardened. "I cannot wait to see what my wife has done to your whore when I deliver her your head" he snarled. Attacking. 

He ran for Aemond, sword out, shoulder back and weight placed evenly on his legs. Aemond deflected the blow and moved in the other direction, closer to Vhagar and away from his uncle.  "I told her to chain her to the throne, Valyrian steel is not easy to break. She is to sit there until she starves to death. How long have you been gone now, Aemond? Half a turn of the moon?" Daemon laughed then, and spat on the ground.  "She will be bones when I return. But don't fret, I will bury you together. In the pit used for common whores and usurper princes."  Aemond roared, he couldn't breathe, think or feel. The blackened lump that was his heart that she had managed to heal cracked apart again, igniting in him a rage he had never felt before. He ran for his uncle, lifting his sword and slashing at whatever parts he could reach. Some of the slashes took, slicing into his uncles legs, torso and his arm. The last slice made him drop his blade and Aemond kicked it aside.  "Now, Uncle," Aemond said as he stepped on Daemons injured arm, drawing the most pleasant noises of unending pain he had ever heard uttered.  "You see, the problem is, that I have taught my wife how to keep herself alive. I have taught her to fight and to protect herself and her family. If by any sort of godly miracle your cunt of a wife has managed to chain her she will end you all." "She is already dead" Daemon spat as the colour leeched from his face.  Aemond stopped breathing, there was such unending silence in his mind. It had gone from roaring with revenge and despair to complete silence in the blink of an eye.  "Well then, uncle. I have no more need of you." 

Aemond turned around, looked at his uncles sword, Dark Sister, the legendary blade that had once belonged to Queen Visenya and picked it up. Daemon was already on his feet, charging with nothing but his fists. Daemon did not stand a chance. One second he had the look of cold fury on his face, and the next his eyes had dimmed.  Aemond had swung the sword through his uncles neck severing his spinal cord, blood vessels and sinew. His uncles head fell to the ground at his feet and his dead body fell next to it with a soft thud. His blood was leaking out of his body and colouring the already red ground and the rivers that flowed around them with the blood of the dragon.  Aemond smirked and picked up his uncles head by his long white hair and walked over to Vhagar. She was still alive, not gravely wounded and definitely fit for one last trip home to rescue his wife. He had thought of the perfect gift to give his usurping, cunt of a sister as he impaled Daemons head on his own sword and climbed up on Vhagars back. 

***

The streets of Kings Landing were quiet. Everything was silent. Until he reached the first set of gates. He saw former members of his mothers Queensguard impaled on spikes, some of them still alive. He pulled his hood further down over his face when people passed him. All of them were in a daze, no one even looked at the bodies.  Even more bodies met him every time he walked through a new set of gates. For a conquering bitch-Queen she had not made it difficult to get to her. The red and black banners of house Targaryen had replaced the previous green and gold. The Red Keep was quiet too, but it was a different kind of quiet. It felt like he was expected. The very air hummed around him. He kept the sword behind his back as he walked up the steps to the throne room. He had not thought about what he would do if he found his wifes dead body instead of the living one. He didn't dare think it.  The doors to the throne room opened and he walked through them. His eye immediately flying to the frail body of his wife. She was lying face down on the floor beneath the throne. Her dress was ripped off her, she had massive welts on her naked back, as if someone had whipped her or beaten her with a hot iron poker, repeatedly. She did not move. Aemond had never known such anger. She was chained. One end of the chain had been welded to the Iron Throne, the other was fastened to a collar placed around her neck. So tight that even to swallow would hurt.  His brave wife, who was left to rule in his absence, beaten, broken and abused because he was hellbent on revenge.  "Prince Aemond Targaryen, your Grace" Ser Arryk said, or was it Erryk, either way, one of the cunt twins in his sisters Queensguard announced him.  Aemond spat on the floor.  And there she was, with a smug look on her plain face. She has grown wider since the last time he saw her, and blood was pooling by her feet. She must have been repeatedly cut by the throne when she decided to take it.  The Throne chooses, he had never been cut neither had his wife, not even when he had taken her upon it.  "Prince Aemond. Come to rescue your whore?" Rhaenyra Targaryen snarled, she pointed at the frail figure lying on the floor. She had not yet stirred and Aemonds heart fell out of his chest.  "You are sitting in my wifes place," he said, still looking at his wife. "Move". "I think she looks better where she is, dont you agree?" Rhaenyra replied and lifted her hand to one of the guard standing behind his wife. Before he could even think they had dragged her up by her long pale hair and tossed her toward him, the chain she had around her neck had been stretched taut and she gagged as the air was forced out of her lungs when she landed.  Aemond shook. Yet, he only walked closer to his sister and removed his hand from behind his back. "I come bearing gifts" he said as he ripped her husbands head from his sword and tossed it to her. It landed at her feet with a disgusting squelch.  "Are you hurt badly, my love?" he asked when his wife had regained her strength and looked at him.  "No, cuts and bruises only" she wheezed, her hand clamouring to get the blood off her face. He knew that if he moved to help her the guard would kill her, and so did she.  "Be brave, my Queen" he said and turned to his sister. 

Rhaenyras scream filled the hall as she launched herself off his throne.  "I will kill you for this" she screamed as she drew Viserys' dagger and came for him. “You killed my husband and I will have your head for it. Your wife’s next” "The Throne decides," he said not taking his eye off her "and since you have managed to draw blood to such an extent that it pools at your feet, I'd say you are not fit to sit upon it!" "Craven" she hissed and engaged. The sounds of Valyrian steel meeting clanged off the walls. Rhaenyra was not the fighter she thought she was, Aemond knew it. But he needed to tire her out, make her slip.  "Funnily enough, that is the exact same thing your cunt of a husband said right before I cut off his head." Aemond growled. "I told him I would go right here, kill you and then put the rest of your bastards to the sword, as payment for my brother, his wife and their children!". Rhaenyra looked at him, for a fleeting moment she was scared. She was scared for her remaining children and Aemond used that to his advantage. He struck. Hammering the flat side of her husbands sword down on her wrist, making her lose both her dagger and her balance. Rhaenyra fell to the floor. No one did anything. Her Queensguard stood idle.  "Do you see what happens when you slaughter an entire city of innocents? When you torture the Queen?" Aemond mused. "No one will come to your rescue, you are alone. You were born alone and you shall die alone."  Aemond moved his eye from his sister to his wife looking for an answer, his wife nodded and kept her violet eyes on Rhaenyra as Aemond grabbed Viserys' dagger and dragged it across her throat. She did not fight back, she did not defend herself and she did not flee. She had understood that she may have had the Throne, but she did not have the Kingdom. Her fight was lost from the beginning. 

Aemond rushed for his wife as his sisters blood flowed out on the marble floor.  "I will never leave you again, ever" he swore and removed her chains.  "Did she do this to you?" he asked as he carefully traced her wounds with his finger checking their severity and for infection. She only nodded and clung to his chest, sobbing uncontrollably and shaking like a leaf, wincing as he wrapped her in his cloak. 

Aemond had Rhaenyras body impaled in the city square along with her husbands head. There they were to remain until they fell to the ground. 

His wife looked so scared and distraught that he did not leave her side for a week, he bathed her, cleaned her wounds and held her at night when the nightmares took her. He swore to never leave her behind again, His Queen would never be alone again. She meant everything to him and he refused to think about the fact that he had almost lost her.  "Never again, my love" he whispered and kissed her neck, her hand entangling in his hair, his hands roaming over her familiar body and an ache returning to his lower stomach.  "My Queen".

[miscfandomwrites]

Mama: Chapter Eight

A/N: Bit of a filler chapter, as I want there to be some time before I get to some of the more good stuff. Also, I’m aiming for a double chapter upload this week to make up for last week. Oh, and my Master Taglist is under construction, so if you aren’t tagged in this series and want to be, LET ME KNOW! My master taglist does not update with everyone that I put on it. 

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Mom! Avenger! Reader

Warnings:

Words: 1.9k

Tagging: @tyler-t0t

~~

“CLINT NO!” I yelled across the floor as I watched the man start downing an entire pot of coffee from the pot itself.

Lillith was falling into a giggling fit as I vaulted over the couch and ran into the kitchen. As soon as he saw me get up, he ran out and passed me into the living room to continue his atrocious habit. 

Before I could grab him however, that fucker finished the pot.

“Really asshole? You could have saved some for me!” I told him with a huff as I crossed my arms.

He shrugged and grinned at me as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

I shook my head and took the empty pot from him, and went into the kitchen to make some more coffee.

“Hey Mom?” Lillith called out from the living room.

Still focusing on my current task at hand, I replied with a “Yeah?” 

“What is a stripper?” She called out. I paused my actions, before slowly turning around and looking at the living room. 

As soon as Clint saw my facial expression, he found it better to get away than to face my wrath.

He hopped on one of my bookcases before I could reach him, and pulled himself into the vents as I cursed after him.

“What is it?” Lillith repeated as I crawled down from the bookcase.

My mind went blank for a second, before I reminded myself to stranger Clint later.

“A stripper is someone who makes money dancing.” I finally settled on telling her that.

“Like your girlfriend?” She replied, cocking her head to the side.

“....my girlfriend?” I questioned her, raising an eyebrow.

“The one that looks like Merida. Red hair, looks mean but likes cookies.” she said, hugging her wolf closer to her.

“Natasha?” 

“Yeah! That’s her name. Is she your girlfriend?” 

“No, honey.” I told her, ruffling her hair.

“Awwww” she said as she went back to the table to finish her drawings.

“This is wonderful! It must be kept on the refrigerator!” Thor boomed as he held up Lillith’s latest drawing. It was a drawing of Thor holding his hammer, with a bunch of what I assumed were storm clouds and lighting. 

Lillith grinned at the praise as Thor strode over to place the paper on the fridge, next to the dozens of others that she had done.

“Hey, is Mr. Stark in here?” A voice came from behind me. I turned around and saw a teenage boy, which made me rack my brain to figure out who Tony adopted this time.

“Depends, what’s your name, kid?” I asked him.

“P-Peter Parker. My name is Peter Parker.” He replied, stuttering. He looked a bit fearful at me. It must be due to the all-black fatigues Bucky got for me that I was trying to break in.

I nodded. “Spider child. Got it. He should be in the garage.” I told him.

“Pepperoni? Can I go see him mom! Pleaseeeeee!” Lillith whined from beside me. I lifted her in my arms, still staring at the boy.

When she first met Stark, she thought his name was Pepperoni, like the pizza topping. Stark, unfortunately reinforced that nickname himself (Thanks to Clint and Bucky, no doubt.)

“As long as I go with. Let’s go.” I said as I strode to the elevator, one teenage spider child in tow.

“Get that out of your mouth!” I yelled as I raced towards Lillith, who was eating….something.

“Mama it’s just rainbow candy. Pete made it!” She said as she continued eating it.

I examined the ‘candy’ on the pans, realizing it was part of his science project or something.

I sighed, rubbing my head at the oncoming headache.

“I heard a yell, what’s up?” Peter said as he walked in. He saw Lillith eating the candy and tore off a piece for himself. “Is it good?” He asked as she examined the candy ribbon.

She nodded furiously as she kept eating the piece she had. He laughed and ruffled her hair, before offering me a piece, which I refused.

“So, when do you go to school Lil?” He questioned her as he started bagging up the ribbon.

“Tomorrow! We gotta go shop for school mama!” She said with a mouthful of candy.

“I know, I’m gonna ask if Steve and Bucky want to go with us. Finish your candy.” I told her, smoothing the hair Peter had ruffled up.

“Friday can you-”

“Already told Bucky and Steve, they are in the elevator down here as we speak.” Friday’s voice cut me off. I nodded as I found Lillith’s coat and helped her put it on, and started tracking down mine.

“Venti black coffee please. Nothing in it, just black coffee.” I told the barista. She nodded and I stepped aside so Barnes could order.

I rubbed my head, trying to ignore the pounding headache. I gave in, and took off my backpack and got some ibuprofen from it.

Thankfully my order was simple, and it came quick thanks to an almost-empty starbucks. I took a swig of coffee and swallowed the pills, before shrugging the backpack on. 

Rogers was outside with Lillith, both munching on croissants and talking about whatever a seventy year old and a six year old could have in common. 

“You look exhausted. I can almost see the bags under your eyes with those glasses on.” Barnes told me, one hand on my shoulder, the other reaching around me to get his drink.

“Oh, sorry” I quickly exclaimed as I moved out of the way. However, thanks to the metal arms I was firmly stuck in place. 

He took a sip of his drink, before setting it down and turning fully towards me. He gently slid off my glasses and tucked them into my shirt pocket.

“Listen, (Y/N), I know being a mom is tough, but with everything else you’re also doing, with work and staying up late and god knows what else you’ve been doing, you need to stop and rest.” He said gently.

I sipped my coffee and stared at him as he continued.

“You need to rest. Both Natasha and I are worried-and I know motherhood isn’t something you can just put on hold so hear me out on this,” He said, stopping to take a breath. “I’m going to call Natasha, who is going to pick you up, and you are going to go home, take a warm shower and brush your teeth and do whatever routine you do before bed, eat something, drink some water, and sleep. If I have to have Natasha on your ass about this, I will. Actually I’m going to, because I know your stubborn ass will be back in the garage with Tony.” 

I only nodded in reply, still sipping on my coffee. He waved a barista over and ordered a venti water, and traded it with my coffee despite my complaints.

“Water, not caffeine.” He told me as he directed me out the doors, one hand holding his phone to his ear. I walked towards Lillith and squatted to her height next to her.

“You’re going to hang out with Uncle Bucky and Steve for awhile okay? I’m going back home and I’ll see you there.” I told her gently, wiping some crumbs off her check.

“You look tired Mama” She said as she gently took my face in her hands. I closed my eyes and hummed, realshing in the feeling of closeness with her.

“I am. I’m going home and going to bed.” I replied.

“Luckily Nat was out running around, she should be pulling up now.” Barnes said as he walked towards us, sitting next to Steve. I nodded and took off the backpack.

“There’s wipes and a few toys in here, along with an extra pair of underwear and some other things.” I said as I handed the bag to Steve. 

I heard a car pull up and turned my head to see a black dodge challenger, with a familiar red head behind the steering wheel.

The window rolled down and Nat’s voice called out: “I heard I’m here to pick up an exhausted mom?” She said with a small smile. I nodded and groaned as I stood up, my back popping. 

I pulled Lillith into a side hug and kissed her forehead. “Be good.” I told her. She nodded and hugged me back with all the force a tiny six-year-old could muster. I opened the passenger door and got in, waving bye to Lillith as we drove off.

“Barnes was right. You do look exhausted.” She said as she glanced my way at a red light. I nodded, leaning my head against the seat and closing my eyes. She hummed and turned the heaters on to start warming up the car. Despite it being only August, it was already getting into the sixties and fifties. 

We rode in silence all the way back to the tower, and I took my time with my sluggish body in getting out and into the elevator.

“‘M gonna take a shower, then bed.” I told her as I leaned against the railing. Damn, I was tired. She nodded as she kept texting, no doubt to Barnes to update him on me.

We got to my floor and I went straight to my bedroom, pulling out some shorts and undergarments, and deciding to wear a light hoodie as a shirt to bed. I checked the time on my phone as I set it to my mellow playlist. It was only five thirty.

“Hey Nat,” I called out to the woman, leaning out of the bathroom doorway.

She walked into the bedroom, looking around before finding my face.

“Can you tell Clint to put Lillith to bed? If I go to sleep now I won’t be awake for that.” I said as I tossed the bundle of clothes on the countertop. She nodded before walking out. I shut the door and turned the shower on to warm as I shedded my clothes. I took a look at my naked self in the mirror, and was startled at the person who looked back. I looked paler than normal, and my ribs were more prominent along with the bags under my eyes. 

I shook my head and got into the shower, relaxing into the warm water and taking time to wash myself.

Once I got out and dried off, and took the time to properly brush through my hair, I took my dirty clothes and tossed them into the now-overflowing basket by the door. Natasha walked in while I was tossing the clothes on my bed onto my desk.

She held out a water bottle and some pills to me. “Drink this and take these. It’s melatonin, it’ll keep you asleep for awhile.” She said as I took them from her/

I drank half of the bottle and swallowed the pills, before climbing into bed. Nat set the bottle on my nightstand and got my phone out of the bathroom, and fiddled on it a bit as I tried to get comfortable. She was probably turning off my four am alarm for my morning workouts, and turning it onto silent mode. She plugged it in and pulled the covers around me once I settled.

“Get some sleep, (Y/N).” She whispered as she smoothed the hair off my face. I only hummed in response as she left, softly closing the door behind her as I fell into a black, dreamless sleep.

[companionjones]

Pirates

Fandoms: Marvel, MCU, Guardians of the Galaxy

Info: This probably takes place pretty soon after Gotg 1.

Warnings: Cursing

You were hanging out with baby Groot on the Milano when the ship landed on a small purple planet that was well known as a pirate trading post. You and the Guardians frequented this planetary establishment when you wanted to trade off something you had gotten on your less than righteous side-quests.

"Okay, everyone remember: We are not here to start anything," Quill told everyone. "We're here to trade-off the Maker Suckers, and we're doing nothing else. Got it?"

"Yeah," Rocket agreed, then went on, "So, we're not allowed to take a shit?"

"I am Groot," Groot piped up with a smile on his face.

Rocket pointed at him. "Exactly. We're not allowed to piss either, huh?"

"Come on, Rocket. You know he didn't mean that." You rolled your eyes, and tried your best to suppress a smirk.

Quill didn't catch your expression and offhandedly thanked you for sticking up for him.

You caught Rocket's eye right after, and the two of you chuckled because of the interaction.

It didn't take long to trade the Maker Suckers, but on the way out, Gamora caught sight of a flyer. "Hey, guys, look at this."

It read that there was an object a few planets over that could be exchanged for credits on this planet.

"What is an Oxigen?" Drax wondered.

"What it is is none of your business," a rough voice came from behind you all.

You all turned around. Standing in front of you was a man with what looked like a pig-shaped skull for a head. He was flanked by three men on either side of him.

He spoke more, "Me and my crew are going to fetch the Oxigen, and none of you twats are going to do anything regarding it. You hear that?"

"Actually, no," you spoke up, drawing your weapon. "All this 'twat' heard is a challenge to beat you fuckers to this planet Montoff to get this Oxigen." You took a step forward to challenge them.

In response, all of the pirates in front of you started drawing their weapons as well.

Everyone else in the vicinity drew their weapons. Rocket stepped in front of you as he did so which surprised you.

You were ready to fight them, but apparently, Quill wasn't.

"Okay, why don't we all just calm down, huh? We'll all race to Montoff to get the Oxigen, and may the best man win. How about that?"

The pig skull man got a very evil grin on his face, and he was looking directly at you as he responded to Quill, "Sounds like a plan to me. But you best be sure to keep your crew in line. It would be a shame if one of them were to turn up missing one of these days." He and his crew walked past you and the Guardians, a few of them bumping into your shoulder along the way.

Rocket took a step in their direction, and it looked like he was about to yell after them. Gamora saw that and was quick to react. She snatched him up and put a hand over his mouth. Rocket fought against Gamora's grasp for a moment before the pirates were gone and Gamora let him go.

"Did you just bite my hand?!" Gamora cursed as she cradled her wrist.

"How many times do I have to tell you people not to manhandle me?!" Rocket yelled in return.

Quill then cut in, "Alright, alright! Everyone back to the ship, before some other poster catches our attention."

Back on the Milano, Quill admonished you, "What were you thinking calling out those pirates like that?"

You rolled your eyes. "I was thinking that nobody gets to push us around."

Rocket defended you, "Yeah, and you were right to do so. Those guys were assholes."

Groot agreed, "I am Groot."

Quill sighed, "Well, I guess we gotta get the Oxigen now. Let's just hope we don't die doing it."

*******

Author's Note: Thank you for reading! Fill up that heart and reblog if you liked it. I would also really appreciate a comment, if you have the time. If you would like to read more, check out my masterlist. Have a nice day, night, or whatever time it is for you! <3 <3 <3

[emeritus-fuckers]

(gonna subscript it so it hopefully isn't as long as the color of the sky)

Buckleup chucklefucks (affectionate) I am looking for a husband (matchup event please <3) Papas if that's okay, because I'm not super familiar with all the ghouls. Even though I'm pretty sure Jez is going to say Papa Nihil - Crusty Edition just to spite me lmao

Some starter information about me: I'm an INFP MBTI and a Scorpio. I'm "introverted, idealistic, creative, and driven by high values" and motivated by helping others and understanding the world. I'm passionate person, in everything I do, really, but especially with romantic relationships. I am a hopeless romantic. (also, Scorpio is supposedly the most sexual zodiac haha) I can be slow to warm up to people, but once I do, I am ride-or-die and loyal to a fault. I'm ambitious in the sense that I want to learn the world's secrets and help others live their best lives. I'm a very philosophical and dedicated to my academic studies, primarily interested in psychology, society, and culture. Otherwise I'm a creative person and a storyteller. I draw political art and write poetry to channel thoughts of depression and isolation. I tend to take up random projects I fixate on, like building a guitar or making jewelry. I sing in a choir setting and casually play electric and acoustic guitar, as well as electric bass. Physically, I am transmasc and embrace the "feminine in a boy way" vibe. I'm short and have a lanky build, but have been cursed with curvy legs and ass like Copia because I walk so much on campus RIP. I've got dark curly hair (kinda the Damiano David vibe before the buzz cut), extremely light brown/amber eyes and long lashes that stab me in the eyeball on a daily basis, and tan complexion. In the face, I've got the van dyke goatee going on, and a strong jawline and cheekbones. I swear, I'm not this vain, I'm just putting my best foot forward when in all reality I could write a novel using all my insecurities lol

Congrats on the follower milestone and thank y'all so much! I love the emeritus-fuckers team and all that you do! I know all 3 of you are super busy, so absolutely no rush! :)

Your match is… Terzo

It took a while for you both to get to know each other properly, to open up. But when you did, you both fell completely head over heels. He is very passionate. You are both hopeless romantics so it works well!

So, you are the most sexual zodiac sign, it’s a good thing Terzo can, err, keep up with you, should we say.

He loves that you want to help others. It’s part of what initially drew him to you. As well as your wonder about the world and your creative spirit!

He is very content watching you throw yourself into your studies. That happy concentrated smile you have on your face, it just makes him fall for you more.

He adores your storytelling! He’ll listen hooked on your every word.

On a summers evening, you often lie next to each other, by a campfire, looking at the stares, swapping stories (he is also good at telling a tale).

And if you get cold he’ll wrap you up in his arms and lay little kisses all over you.

As for your projects, he’ll throw himself in with equal enthusiasm no matter how random it is!

If you ever feel depressed or isolated, he’s there for you. He’ll hold you close to him and reassure you. He’ll then sit and write songs while you channel your feelings into poetry or art.

He loves listening to you sing in the choir. He’s always enjoyed choral music anyway but to hear you sing it is even better. If you do concerts he’s at every single one.

He loves how you look. He’s a bit of a perv in the way he shows it, but he’d never do anything that would make you uncomfortable (he would ask what your boundaries are.).

He would say this to you “It’s not vain, you err should be putting your best foot forward! Papa is very proud of you.”

[ajgrey9647]

"Oh, you poor thing.” + Post Shattered Grid Skull or Adam? (for some reason this feels like either of them and it occurs to me you don't wander very far from the main rangers much)

Wild Tales from the Palace Halls

The early days following the apparent demise of Lord Drakkon consisted of a tenuous mutually beneficial alliance between the Coinless and the former Sentries who served the hated tyrant. Each group remained deeply mistrustful of the other and misunderstandings were not uncommon. Some days it was all Kimberly could do to keep the peace and avoid the whole bottom falling out.

Fortunately, the Ranger Slayer had an excellent liaison in Eugene Skullovitch. The rogue Sentry had a real knack for getting to the heart of the matter, soothing hurt, frazzled nerves, and wasn’t averse to telling it like it was. Both factions seemed to have some respect for the man which helped greatly in paving their way forward.

Their world would never be as it had before the asshole’s demented reign, but there were still things that were fixable, or at least made better. Unlike when Lord Drakkon ascended to power, there was no giant leap in technology or modern amenities in either direction. It seemed they were stuck in a disjointed, ‘out of time’ universe that had returned to the days of old.

As far as Skull was concerned, as long as Drakkon was slow roasting in the pits of hell, he’d take it.

It did seem to him that with the vile Ranger gone, the sky’s iridescent blue was brighter, the dry, brownish grass and barren trees growing into new green finery, and even the sun felt warmer. Birds chirped for the first time in decades, at least that he could recall.

Speaking of decades, it had been that if not longer that anyone had relaxed in the most accurate form of the word. Now several months out from their newfound freedom, members of the former Sentry guard and the rebellious Coinless resistance gathered around a small bonfire, enjoying the clear, starry night sky and regaling one another with wild tales of their various escapades.

When it came to ‘wild tales’, however, the Sentries won hands down considering Drakkon’s elaborate and theatrical fuckery. The Coinless listened, wide eyed and open mouthed as they were regaled with the most ‘what the fuck’ stories they’d ever heard.

Adam had just finished up his exotic walk on the wild side as he’d helped to spearhead a ‘snipe hunt’ at Lord Drakkon’s direction. The poor fellow being stalked for sport had made the grievous error of merely existing when the bastard was having a mental melt down over some dumb shit or another. It had been enough that he’d even kicked Red squarely in the mouth when the abomination attempted to pacify him.

Scorpina rolled her eyes heavily when the Black Sentry finished and huffed a sigh.

“That sounds rather ostentatious for a punishment,” she accused. “A lot of work for what exactly?”

Skull laughed good naturedly in response.

“Consider who we’re talking about here,” he managed. “There was no in between with that wild fucker. He was the definition of ‘go big or go home’.”

He took a long pull on the dented, discolored flask he always kept on hand. Grinning at the assembled faces flickering on the other side of the flames, he stood and spread his arms grandly.

“As hair raising as the snipe hunts were, I’ve got one better. A tale so fucked up I’d almost rather slathered myself in honey and dry humped a grizzly bear.”

Adam raised a disbelieving brow.

“Alright then, let’s hear it.”

Skull paced briskly before taking a dramatic pause, his silver eyes sparkling in the firelight.

“It was a chilly night in December when I entered the Twilight Zone…”

Briskly striding up the stone staircase, his boots clipped a staccato rhythm that set Skull’s nerves on edge. Biceps bulging under the weight of the large, wooden box hefted to his chest, he again cursed his misfortune at drawing the short straw. No one in their right mind wanted to go anywhere near Drakkon’s bedchamber.

The burdensome box contained an assortment of books, papers, photographs, and other odds and ends that Skull could see no discernable value in. Old fairy tales, watercolor renderings of knights and dragons, and the like were not things he would have envisioned the tyrant desiring above the assortment of gold, silver, and jewels he’d tossed dismissively in a vault in another wing. There were even toys in here for Christ’s sake!

Reaching the top of the stairs, Skull held his breath a moment as he paused, listening. It was rather late in the evening, the sun having just dipped below the horizon and casting purple and pink hues across the sky. Hopefully, Drakkon and his mutt were snoozing or otherwise engrossed with ‘wrestling’ one another, but Eugene doubted that.

‘If lady luck decides to smile upon me, maybe I can slip in and out without running into one of them.’

The outer chamber was quiet, a clock ticking softly on the side table situated at the end of the jacquard-covered couch. Skull scanned the opulently decorated room, the artwork and other fixtures made of fine metals and expensive touches. No one appeared to be awake and, silently, he tip-toed toward the glossy mahogany table right outside the closed bedroom door.

Sliding the box onto the smooth surface, he gave a small exhale of relief.

‘Almost home free.’

But, of course, with anything related to that slimy fuck, it wasn’t that simple.

An ominous tapping on his shoulder caused the Sentry to whirl around where, to his horror, he discovered Red standing rather closely behind him. The pet’s eyes were sparkling wetly, the pupil of his right eye so blown out that he resembled a cartoon character, complete with a wide psychotic smile plastered across his face.

“Oh shiiiittttt…” Red slurred mockingly at the same time the thought darted through Skull’s mind. “Caught… you… little bunny rabbit…”

He noted, with a touch of terrified amusement, that Red was decked out in a garishly decorated Christmas sweater, red and green lights blinking amidst an explosion of pom poms that had been hot glued to the fuzzy garment. Reindeer antlers made from brown felt and dotted with tiny bells sat atop his shaggy mane.

Red giggled and slowly held up a hand, his trembling finger pointed towards Eugene like ET in that old movie he used to watch as a lonely, neglected child. A skinny green and yellow woven ‘basket’ protruded from the fingertip.

“Slide your finger in the hole,” the creepy pet whispered loudly. “It’s a magic trick!”

Skull recognized the contraption as a Chinese finger trap. It’d been ages since he’d even thought about his old jokes and gags. The relic brought back fond memories of his teenage hideout in the mall where he purchased his top tier pranks.

As he struggled to decide how to react, Red stared at him with his dinner plate-sized eyes expectantly and the lanky man was well aware of Drakkon watching with interest, nearly hidden from view in the corner, draped across his chaise lounge. A small puff of smoke was idly blown from the corner of the tyrant’s lips, a small, slim cigarette pinched between a thumb and forefinger.

‘Yeah… that’s not a cigarette,’ Skull sighed, his nose wrinkling when the putrid odor reached his nostrils.

“Hey!” Red snickered, catching his attention again. “Come on… I won’t bite.”

The finger trap waggled impishly toward his chest.

Fixing a bemused smile on his face, Skull did as the canine requested, one long finger gliding down the rough fibers until he bumped the end of Red’s. His skin crawled with trepidation at being in such close proximity to Drakkon’s unstable beast, who cackled with delight at pulling one over on the man.

“Now try to get away!” he beamed mischievously. “Bet you can’t!”

Tugging gently, the Sentry gasped in mock surprise when the finger trap tightened, preventing his escape.

“Uh oh, Red. Looks like you’re stuck with me. And I didn’t pack a sleeping bag or change of underwear!”

The pet shrieked with joyful laughter, causing Skull to almost jump out of his skin.

“He’s funny,” he snorted to Drakkon. “Can he join us, master? Please? We haven’t started the movie yet.”

Already, Red was dragging him by the finger towards where the asshole reclined, watching them through half-lidded eyes as he took another hit off the blunt before passing it to the grey-haired man to enjoy. A vibrantly shaded Santa hat sat haphazardly on the evil Ranger’s head and he was swathed in a loosely belted Santa jacket, his bare chest visible where it hung open at the top. Of course, he was without any pants. Fortunately, the costume graced the top of his muscular thighs and blanketed his problematic cock.

A low table was situated before the chair and Skull noted a large jar packed full of jewel colored ‘gummy bears’ that were larger than he remembered them being, two large bottles of Crown and a jumbled pile of various cans of soda. A bowl heaping with an assortment of different chips was perched precariously near the edge.

‘Who’d have thought? Santa Claus and his jolly little reindeer up here getting drunk and high… Interesting.’

Drakkon looked him up and down, one brow lifting.

“You look familiar. Don’t I know you?” he drawled lazily.

Skull shrugged, trying not to panic.

“Probably not, my lord. I imagine over time all us mindless fucks blur together,” he simpered, trying to kiss the right amount of ass so Drakkon wouldn’t remember their contentious history.

“Ehhh, most likely,” the asshole grumbled, lifting a full glass of alcohol to his lips, sloshing some on his exposed flesh. “How about it, mindless fuck? My Red is charmed by your wit and would like you to join our party.”

This was a clearly loaded and tricky question. Considering the tyrant’s inebriated state, there was no telling what answer he was looking for. This was true on a good day, even worse now.

Skull was literally staring death in the face right now and he knew it.

“Well, it certainly looks fun. You’ve got everything covered. Booze, smokes, munchies, and a movie. Even the fun gummies…soaked overnight in alcohol I assume?”

Red giggled, playfully tugging on the finger still trapped end to end with his own.

“Of course! Perhaps my master will be willing to share his stash with you as well. If you continue to amuse us…”

Skull bowed his head submissively towards Drakkon, his hand still attached awkwardly to Red’s by the scratchy finger trap.

“If it pleases you, my Lord… Your wish is my command.”

Beady eyes slid from the Sentry over towards Red’s giddy face with its goofy stoned grin. He shrugged, pointing at the carpet close by his lounger behind the snack laden table.

“Take a load off.”

Obediently, Skull sank to the floor, crossing his legs and trying to keep his cool while in shark infested waters. Red plopped heavily next to him, making no move to release him from the finger trap. Clumsily, the pet poured his new buddy a glass of Crown with a spritz of soda, the liquid spilling over onto the tabletop as the tyrant began to manipulate the controls to the movie projector.

‘Didn’t notice that before,’ Skull commented to himself, politely lifting his cup to his lips despite the overwhelming burn of alcohol.

Red laughed and promptly stuffed a nacho flavored chip into the other man’s mouth.

“You gotta eat with that or… you’ll get… fucking… plastered,” he kindly slurred. “You’ll fall… right on your… ass.”

The loud intro to the movie started blasting through the speakers, nearly making Skull jump through the ceiling.

“Got ants in your pants…” the pet teased. “I’ve got bugs too. They’re in my brain, crawling into my mind.”

Drakkon rolled his eyes in the dimness.

“Darling, take a another hit and settle down.”

As the movie progressed, both unstable beasts continued munching chips, throwing back ‘gummy bears’, slugging down glass after glass of intoxicating drinks, and puffing like chimneys. Skull feared he’d eventually be conscripted into further participation in their festivities and he was right. With all the right ingredients in play, he valiantly struggled to keep his wittiness under wraps.

Though he was very interested to know what exactly the two boneheads were celebrating, he managed to refrain from asking. It was probably something that only made sense in their demented minds anyways.

“Welcome to Jurassic Park!” a character dramatically announced from the screen.

Mostly the trio was silent as the movie played on, only the sounds of crunching chips and the clink of glasses making any noise.

“My favorite is the T-Rex,” Red chirped suddenly when the monstrous dinosaur made its appearance, earning him a dirty look from his master. “His name is Rexy.”

“It’s a ‘she’, idiot. Remember they’re all chicks!” Drakkon hissed. “And you would like the Tyrannosaurus. It’s a pussy beast and so are you!”

A pillow arced through the air and smacked Red in the back, causing him to spill his drink all over his lap.

And Skull’s.

Red giggled bizarrely, then was silent as he watched the dinosaur ravage the wrecked car while roaring into the rainy night. Rudely Drakkon skipped the scene ahead until the T-Rex was gone.

“That’s enough of that bullshit.”

As the infinite night wore on, the pet calmed until his eyes appeared blurry in the scant light from the screen and, eventually, his head lowered to the table. From amidst the chips, soda cans, and gummies, he started to snore. Still, his finger dangled from the trap binding the Sentry to him.

Unfortunately, Lord Fuckwad was wide awake and puffing another roach so Skull was able to slip away. Periodically, those possumy eyes shifted his direction and he knew the tyrant was observing him, trying to decide how he felt about his intrusion in their little shindig. The Sentry sat as still as cemetery marker, willing himself to remain steady under the well of alcohol and weed seeding his brain.

Then blessedly, the movie was coming to an end, the triumphant T-Rex flinging the arrogant raptors across the visitor’s center. By that point, Red’s chin was perched on the table and he had resumed silently watching the show.

When the credits started to roll, Drakkon adjusted himself under the Santa robe.

“Red, it’s time to release your toy. You’ve got a pole to start polishing, beloved.”

Weary eyes gazed down at the trapped fingers and the pet seemed almost confused.

“Let me help,” Skull offered, gently reaching down and manipulating the contraption until they were both free.

Red’s eyes widened.

“How’d you figure that out?”

“Never mind how he figured it out, mutt. I’m leaking all over myself, so walk your little rabbit to the stairs then get that delectable tight ass over here,” the evil Ranger hissed in annoyance.

Even in his inebriated state, Skull felt bad for Red. He didn’t look like he was feeling that great after partying down and probably just wanted to sleep it off. But no rest for the wicked…

He would be lying if he said he didn’t immediately start running down the stairs and out the kitchen door into the night once the pet disappeared from sight, demurely ascending back to his master and his unpolished knob.

All was silent as Skull wrapped up his tale of tying one on with Lord Drakkon and Red, the other’s mouths agape.

“No way… They were getting wasted? I thought Drakkon didn’t believe in doing that shit?” Scorpina laughed, scarcely daring to imagine being in such a predicament.

Adam cleared his throat and patted her hand.

“Not all the time. He was usually too paranoid. But there were times….” He tried to curb his grin.

“There was that one time, I caught them doing a line of blow. They didn’t see me and I didn’t announce my presence,” the Black Sentry admitted.

Skull shook his head in disbelief.

“Too bad the problem didn’t take care of itself,” he grunted. “Well, I mean… I’m glad Jason…errr Red… didn’t bite it, but that asshole could have drowned in white powder for all I care.”

Adam nodded.

“I don’t know how you didn’t have a heart attack, Skull…. Sitting between them both high as kites…”

“I was just a fortunate soul to party down with Drakkon and live to tell the tale.”

Another voice cut in, one that they didn’t know was in attendance.

“Oh you poor thing…”

Standing just outside their circle was the Ranger Slayer, a slight smirk on her face.

“Oh shit! Kim! Sorry! We didn’t know you were coming out!”

Skull was horrified that his old friend might be distressed at hearing these experiences being relived by others ensnared by the monster’s fuckery. And he certainly didn’t want to dredge up unpleasant memories for her either.

Approaching the lanky man, Kimberly confidently snatched his flask from his fingers and tossed by a long swig.

“I can do you guys one better,” she boasted, looking from Skull to Adam then to the others.

Adam swiftly shook his head.

“Kim, that’s not nec…” he started, before Scorpina elbowed him in the ribs.

“Out with it!” she goaded.

Tossing Skull’s flask back into his nimble grasp, the Slayer grinned.

“Who here has had the pleasure of being ordered to fuck Red? While Drakkon watched and jerked off, of course,” she posed to the stunned group.

Glancing at the assorted horrified and disbelieving expression, Kim raised a brow.

“What? Just me?”

She gave a cheeky curtsy.

“Looks like I take the cake then!”

Skull finally managed to blink and sputtered in confusion.

“He had you… and Jason… No way!”

Kim just nodded and shrugged.

“He wanted to breed his doggie.”

Scorpina stood and grabbed Skull’s flask, taking her turn downing the skunky brew.

“What a mind fuck! How did you handle that when you discovered Red was really Jason?”

“Not well. I’m still processing it, honestly. And since everyone seems to find humor helpful, I thought I’d give it a try.”

Adam shook his head and in his characteristic quiet voice muttered in wonderment.

“Well, goddamn…”

[mushroom-for-art]

Decided to redesign my Shadowtwo because honestly she was overly cluttered in a reused pose that didn't really fit or properly show her differences to Sona and overly edgy. Now shes just edgy and overly cluttered in a new way XD

Snarky mother fucker thanks you but using evil voice ya know the one. Very scary that she has this tech now like god dammit why. Probably doesn't actually and won't do anything with it it's just for art/to look scary on her part. Being shes an altered shadowtwo her gaia crystal fused to a mewtwonite X and having merged with biological matter she's different so has higher wants than just "more power" cursed with humanity awareness and higher conscious. Bingbong suffer with self awareness and frontal lobe.

Only the thick lineart lightning lines are canon and represent the crystal corruption seeping into the skin empowering the body. The thinner random ones show up when using powers like her blood vessels are glowing with power it's purely for emphasis and show of her crystal corruption and strength with her implants glowing too for extra ooh

Kept the tail blade but altered it out of all the added crystals as it felt the most fitting to give her a danger blade. The burst chest crystal is and always will be canon as her crystals place of origin was in the mewtwo bump where its theorised mega stones are implanted.

She's significantly taller than Sona, how much taller idk I don't wanna make her ridiculously huge (yes I do) but with Sona being like 5"4' I can see her being like 6"7-6"11 biiiiiig bitch, she also obviously has a significantly longer tail than Sona probably more natural two length or maybe longer I'm not sure. Has everything sona lacks really, move pool, psychic powers, height, long tail took the mewtwonite X in the divorce from her mortal form too

She's just vaguely evil because I don't really have plots with my characters just headcanons I don't art for story lmao. She is not allowed near Night or Uni (givemeuniversalcrossovers) will bite me. Don't tell her but I'll probably draw her near Night later as a teen because she'd probably observe and call out the others are weak and can't train him properly.

Also I keep finding it incredibly funny out of the trio (May my Sona, Mattwo my Sona but boy time with lore and herself being her body is a clone of May) she's the only one who can have a kid and does technically have an on off canon kid called Luna who radiates Gaia energy like a twisted irony punishment making her a target to other shadow pokemon that would want to drain her daughters life meaning the shadowtwo I have who needs a name and is Darkness for now has to face the consequences of her crimes and face the fact she murdered for her form she artificially implanted grown gaia crystals and now her child is a target likely having gained her gaia powers from her through the womb. Basically lmao oops and just her having a kid that because of how separated she is from other shadows she genuinely cares about and now has the stress of needing to protect.

Might also draw her bring Luna cause fellow night child they can bond, friendship.

Idk I'm rambling lmao sorry enjoy the snarky evil bitch

[ben-the-hyena]

Template here : https://www.deviantart.com/neoduelgx/art/My-Character-Inspiration-Meme-831348312

Funny, unlike for Meryamun I didn't need a lot of characters to inspire me for creating Yumi. But that doesn't mean I didn't have any ! And at least I PROMISE this time it does fit the meme, no nees for extras in the post

The White Wolf : I didn't draw her yet in her werewolf form, but it would be highly inspired from him (or her if it's Aniu). Similar head shape/face and eyes, almost entirely white, just as fluffy, looks cold and strict

Jordan Sands : young girl turned werewolf which multiplied ×1000 her strength, hunger to the point of drooling and pilosity, nerdy, wears glasses, learned to love and feel much freer with this curse turned gift

Thomas : this comic series my mom would read to me as a kid is probably thanks to which I imagine werewomves shaped like that. So same body typr aside, young person turned werewolf adter surviving a werewolf ambush, learned to control, embrace and love this new side hot in-universe for furries/monster fuckers

Madame Pandora : regal, overall immortal MILF vibes, loving and can look sweet yet can also look cold, co-lead of the house with her husband whom she loves a lot no matter the centuries, good mother who values her kids' intelligence and skills and is motherly to their friends and kids in general, still she can be terrifying and is ready to kill those who hurt who she loves and she is not innocent from attacking humans out of blood lust. Can also be vain and likes to take care of herself. Also used to be poor human in a dramatic situation and almost was killed by a lust-driven man, but was saved just in time and turned into what she is now instead

Morticia Addams : regal, classy and elegant, MILF too sorry to say it that way, calm and stoic (when not angry or hungry), billionaire, absolutely horny and in love with her husband, good mother who deeply loves her son and daughter and wants them happy

Hulk : ever since she learned to turn into a werewolf outside of the full moon it may backfire into her turning into one out of rage if provoked too much, she is way much stronger and destructive in these moments. Note she is also completely uncontrollable and "brainwashed" with no memory of what she did when there is a Blood Moon too

Genka Kunahito : she is who I had in mind when I designed Yumi, a strict and cold-looking albeit pretty middle aged woman with glasses, lipstick, dark hair combed in a low bun, and the same stock pose. Also Japanese and actually warmer than she looks (if she knows and likes you)

Kaeloo : due to never having had friends before she can be drastically just as childish and playful with hers, also she often acts as the mom of whatevet group she is, even when she was an alpha to younger werewolves. But also VERY hot tempered and actually anxious, transformating her into a big muscular violent angry creature which she learned to control and love even if sometimes it can happen without her control (sudden rage or blood moon). She also was sort of a tsundere easily flustered and angered at Meryamun when they were still rivals but the deeper they bonded and he became less of a jerkass the more lovestruck and hornier she got. She actually had a long prudish phase (she became free from sex work and intended to no longer hear about sex again) closetting her horny thoughts notably for the guy she crushed on but her pervy side finally took her over as she accepted she was in love

Marge : loving and supportive wife and husband with a similar grunt when annoyed or upset. Plus even if she does help with Meryamun's businesses and money and is a writer she mostly is a house wife

Homer Simpson : due to being a werewolf she is VERY easily hungry and can basically eat anything without getting sick (or fat in her case) anytime, wolfing (lol) down anything not gracefully at all which freaks out and disgusts a lot of people. Absolutely adores her spouse's cooking more than anyone else's and greatly appreciates his treats and literally drools. In fact as smart as she is food is the only topic she loses braincels for and is willing to get food poisonned just for satisfying her appetite

[winged-deity]

Hello, sorry if you are busy but could I please request parental dreamsmp members reacting to their child swearing? And when they ask where they learnt that word they say from Uncle Bad when he was cooking or something? I just think it would be funny and wholesome lol, thankyou for your time love ya<3

Thank you for requesting and hope this is to your liking!

Parental! DSMP members reacting to child reader swearing

Heard It From Uncle Bad

warnings: !swearing!, !mentions of violence!, !use of nicknames!

Dream

Dream was keeping a close eye on you playing out in the fields while he sharpened his axe in the cool shadow of a blooming willow tree.

He barely catches a glimpse of you stumbling over your own feet, but as he'd learned, you rarely cried over things like that. But what he heard next, wasnt something he expected.

His head snaps up in full attention when he hears the word leave your mouth, "Fuck!" you had schreeched as you scraped your knees on the muddy ground.

He immediately discarded his axe on the ground, and walked over to you, still in pure and utter shock.

"Little flower, where did you learn that word?" he kneeled beside you, trying his best to contain his inner disappointment and anger torwards whoever taught his child swear words.

You had looked up at him, slightly confused at his sudden interest before you answered his still waiting question "Uncle Bad said it when he hurt his hand on the stove, last weekend when he was watching me"

Dream had blinked at you for a few seconds in utter disbelief, he was about to call you out on lying. Before he remembered that you didnt know any better than to always tell the truth.

After a small discussion where he explained why you couldnt use that word, he left you to Sapnap and George, and headed torwards Bad's house where they would soon have a long talk.

Sapnap

You would be with him, while he is trading in the nether. You usually tend to stick close to him as to not anger the piglins, or get lost.

However, this time while he was trading with you behind him, clinging to his pant leg. A piglin approached you, and as you did not like the intimidating look it was giving you, you hissed at the piglin "Fuck off!"

Sapnap choked on nothing, and immediately slapped a hand over your tiny mouth "hey buddy, don't say that word!.." he chuckled nervously as the piglins eyed him disapprovingly.

After you two got back into the overworld, he lifted you onto his shoulders "where did you learn that word" he had asked you, and you answered with a simple shrug "i heard grandpa say it while i was over at his and skeppy's house"

Sapnap had bursted into laughter the moment he heard this, "thats pretty funny, but don't say that word anymore. People are gonna think i taught you that" he gave an over exaggerated sob for dramatic effect, as you giggled.

Awesamdude

He had been working at the prison nonstop for weeks on end, and as much as he hated to not be able to spend time with you, there was not much he could do.

The biggest suprise was when he was sitting at the front desk, when he heard familiar yelling and pounding on the prison gates. At first he was cautious, but once the next words left your mouth "open the motherfucking door, Awesamdad!" his gaze darkened as he opened the gates, pondering who taught his young child such foul language.

Awesamdude wasnt usually one to care about swearing, but when the case was about his own child thats a no no.

He let you into the prison arms crossed, staring you down as you had no idea how much trouble you were in. "why do you come into my work screaming those bad words at the gates?" he stared you down.

"bad words?" you expressed your confusion "it cant be a bad word, cause uncle Bad said it, and he doesnt use bad language" you crossed your arms proudly over your chest, mimicking your father.

He chuckled quietly "i see.. Well uncle Bad is gonna get a long talk after im done with work"

Philza

He had not planned on adopting anymore children after Tommy (and technically Tubbo), but here he was, in the middle of the tundra, a wanted war criminal, with a child.

He was confident that no bad influences would come to you after the fall of l'manburg, since the only people you two lived with were Techno and Ranboo. And occasionally Niki would show up as well.

So he was in utter and pure shock and disbelief when he heard you shout "fuck!" at the top of your lungs, after falling over while Techno was teaching you how to spar.

Techno immediately dismissed Phil's suspicion torwards him, saying he wouldn't swear in the presence of the child in question. Phil had questioned you in a serious matter, asking who taught you that word, he had his suspicions but he was definitely caught off guard as you mentioned Bad's name.

He had already tried to keep you away from the demon, because of all the mans weird connections with the egg cult and other weird shit. And he didn't even know you had met Bad. He just dismissed it and told you to not talk to that man again, which you happily obliged.

Jschlatt

Schlat wasn't necessarily like other parents, he wasnt the best parent either. So it wouldn't be surprising if you had learned most of your bad influences from him. But besides all those odds, your first curse word wasnt from him.

He already had alot of issues, he wasnt at all fit to lead a country, and his alcohol problems had a vice-like grip on his life. So when he heard you cursing under your breath as you scribbled on paper in his office one day, he simply lifted his brow.

"where'd you learn that, Pumpkin?" he hummed, dismissing his more important paperwork aside.

As stated before, he wasnt necessarily a good parent, he was just simply intrigued on how you knew that language at your age. And more interested in who taught you that, since you weren't allowed to leave the white house without him or Quackity.

And if it turned out to be Quackity who taught you that (which wouldn't be that surprising), he swears he'd had that fuckers head.

He may not have paid alot of attention to you growing up, but he did care about you. Even if he didn't show it. So it wasn't a joke when he said he'd have the person's head who taught his kid swear words.

You had simply turned to him "that scary guy with the horns and white eyes said it while i was on a walk with Mr. Quackity" you hummed, then immediately turning back into your drawings.

Schlatt blinked at you in disbelief, before bursting into laughter "oh that demon fucker?! He bothers everyone else on their language and then swears infront of a child?" he took a deep inhale to calm his laughter, before his eyes turned dark "the nerve.."

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

I was gonna do more characters, but this is already long enough. Hope everyone liked this, and my requests are still open! <3

[uwusenpaiuwu]

Baji Being A Menace To Society (And Your Relationship) 2.0

Sequel to: Baji A.K.A. The Worst (Best) Matchmaker

Summary: Baji’s at it again, acting out-of-pocket and creating chaos for absolutely no reason, other than to see you suffer. In his own Baji-esque way, of course.

Pairing: Sano Manjiro | Mikey x Male Reader

Warning(s): Boku no Pico is mentioned, but there is absolutely nothing graphic; mentions of masturbation

Note(s): I am so sorry if it isn’t funny. Sadly, I am but an amateur writer, not a comedian. Still, I hope you all enjoy! ^^

"(Y/n), want some ice cream? My treat."

Usually, you'd be the first to jump at an offer for a sweet treat, especially when you don't have to pay. However, as of now, the word 'ice cream,' when said by Baji, instantly triggers your fight-or flight-response. Paired with the fact that he’s broke as hell, your suspicions only increase for the sudden indulgence.

Since you know you're no match for the long-haired menace, your body automatically prepares to flee, legs twitching to lurch into a sprint. Unfortunately for you, just before you can get the fuck out of there, your hand is being grabbed by Mikey, who leisurely begins to tug you along to claim your dessert.

“You like ice cream, right?” he turns to ask, eyes unbelievably soft when looking at you.

And because you’re weak for him, all you can do is nod stiffly, trading in your sanity for the pleased grin that spreads across his face, his confident strides thereafter likely a result of him successfully remembering another miscellaneous fact about you, as has been the case since you officially started dating him. From the most trivial of things, like which brand of pens and pencils you prefer, to the slightly more important stuff, like ice cream being one of your favorite desserts; he’s made the effort of remembering them all.

He really doesn’t need to do any of that, ‘cause you’ll love him either way, but the conscious decision to do so is what makes you love him even more.

Zoning back into reality, you shake your head to reorient yourself. It isn’t the time to be going over the reasons why you’re such a lovesick puppy.

No, there are other things to worry about, mainly Baji.

You squeeze Mikey’s hand as you’re led to the nearest ice cream parlor to try and calm yourself. It works for the most part, especially when you get a reassuring squeeze back.

‘Right,’ you tell yourself, ‘it’s going to be okay.’

After all, Baji wouldn’t do anything too drastic, right?

~~~

You were wrong. So, so wrong.

Despite nothing having transpired yet, every alarm in your head is going off, pounding at the door of reason to get you to wake up and realize that it’s Baji you’re talking about, the same person that sets cars on fire when hungry and punches the first unfortunate soul he passes by on the street when sleepy.

You really should’ve listened to your survival instincts and ran. Alas, it’s much too late to escape, leaving you to wallow in your anxiety, while you wait for misfortune to strike.

And strike it does.

“Please, don’t sit next to me. You make me nauseous.”

“That’s cruel. I bought you ice cream, and you treat me like this?”

Yeah, he may have bought it, but you refuse to eat it because of how intensely Baji is staring at you. Fucking weirdo.

"Oh, do you want some of mine instead, (Y/n)?" Baji accentuates his question with a sensual lick to his ice cream from the edge of the cone to the finessed peak, making you extremely uncomfortable as he stares you down with the full motion.

As slowly as he licks his frozen treat do you slowly raise your middle finger, eliciting chuckles from the other occupants of the table.

You think you won that mini battle, though?

Ha! Nope.

Baji mirrors the vulgar action, not once breaking eye contact as he dips the tip of his finger directly into his ice cream, pulls it out, and proceeds to lick that, too.

Disgusted, you promptly avert your attention elsewhere, praying that Baji won’t continue being, well, himself.

Your prayers fall on deaf ears.

"It's cold!" As soon as the exclamation leaves your mouth, your blood runs glacial, knowing that you've unintentionally played into Baji's trap. The appearance of a sly, almost feral, smirk when you whip your head around to glare confirms what you already know.

The curtain has risen, and you’re standing center stage in a performance you can’t break free from.

"Aw, can't let it go to waste,” Baji continues, reaching over to scoop the ice cream you’re 100% certain he purposely spilled on the front of your shirt, with his fingers.

Then, to your horror and everyone else’s shock, he asks, without an ounce of virtue to his name, "Want me to lick it off with my mouth?"

Chifuyu is seated on the other side of the table, hiding his face in his hands. “Baji-san...”

"It'll stain if it dries like that." Dear God, how you wish to un-see Baji batting his eyelashes at you.

“I don’t care!” At this point, you’ve resorted to clumsily scooting your chair as far away from him as possible, which isn’t actually as far as you’d like considering your surroundings. Hell, so long as you put some distance between yourself and the crazy bastard that wants to see you suffer, you don’t mind having to force yourself halfway onto Mikey’s lap. (The firm hand that keeps you steady by the waist proves that your presence isn’t unwanted either.)

"Geez, (Y/n), you're such a scatterbrain."

Seeing Baji sell the line with a slow tugging of his hair behind the ear has you torn between laughing and dying a little more. Truthfully, his acting is frighteningly impressive, and you would’ve applauded his performance, if not for the fact that the role he’s playing still haunts your dreams.

By this time, most of who accompanied you to the ice cream parlor have figured out what kind of drugs Baji is on this time, which also means that those fuckers have seen, or are at least aware of, the cursed trilogy of questionable porn that’s being reenacted before their eyes, with you as an unwilling co-star. Those that are puzzled as to why people are shoving their fists in their mouths to refrain from laughing are obviously God’s favorites.

“The fuck is going on? I wanna laugh at Baji’s dumbassery, too.”

“Pah-chin... I think it’s best you don’t know.”

Interestingly enough, the one you’re most concerned about hasn’t said anything yet, splitting his attention between observing the scene unfolding and eating his portion of a deluxe sundae.

Then, out of nowhere-

“I understand.”

You and Baji freeze where you are, each of you grasping the other’s collar, you to shove him away, and him to draw you closer.

“(Y/n),” Mikey says, your name rolling silkily off his tongue in a tone much too fond for his next words, “if you like roleplay, just tell me.”

...

“Huh?”

“I’m fine with pissing, remember? So, roleplay shouldn’t be a problem.”

Heat rises to your face at an alarming pace, and it continues to climb as Mikey takes your free hand in his, which serves not to comfort but to unintentionally remind you of the humiliating experience from a few months back. And just when you convinced him that you didn’t want anything to do with getting freaky with the body’s excreta, too.

“You’ve got it wrong! I don’t- arfghfgh?!”

Your prayer to help cool down your flushed cheeks must have been heard, but you’re pretty damn sure you didn’t ask for Baji to shove his ice cream in your mouth!

“Oh, yeah. (Y/n)’s a fuckin’ geek when it comes to roleplay,” the unhinged bastard speaks in your stead, indifferent to the nails clawing at his hand clamped over your mouth. “You should try it with him. We were doing a scene from his favorite anime.”

Mikey tilts his head, interest positively piqued. “Which one is that?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know, leader?”

Mikey raises an eyebrow.

Baji opens his mouth.

You lunge.

It’s a series of events that happens in the blink of an eye and ends with loud crashing as you tackle Baji to the ground.

“Listen up, Baji Keisuke. We took an oath that day, and if you dare utter a word of what went down, I’ll consider that a breach of the code of secrecy and take you down, making sure you drown in a pit of your own shame and despair.”

Surprised to have been pinned down so quickly, it takes a while for Baji’s brain to catch up, but when it does, he’s frustratingly unfazed at the threat.

“Oho~ How scary. Too bad for you, I have no shame.”

“Not even if I tell Mama Baji where your porn stash is?”

That has the great Baji tensing up.

“You wouldn’t dare use an underhanded tactic like that.”

Your lips turn into a wicked grin. “Are you sure? I have as much dirt on you as you have on me, and like you, I won’t hesitate to use it to my advantage.”

If your grin is wicked, Baji’s is downright evil, showing off his sharp, gritted canines and all.

“You got balls, (Y/n),” he snarls, “but mine are bigger.”

The boy beneath you opens his mouth, and faster than you can stop him, he just...does it.

“(Y/n) (L/n) watched Boku no Pico and liked it!”

Silence.

Silence is all that’s heard for a good, long minute following the booming roar of the revelation.

You dare not look up to gauge everyone’s reactions, instead keeping your icy glare fixated on Baji, who looks smug as shit for having caused the glorious eruption of heat to spread like wildfire across your entire body, from the tips of your ears down to where your skin disappears under the collar of your jacket.

This...

This is war.

Taking in a deep breath, you answer his uncalled for declaration with your own thunderous shout of, “Baji watched Boku no Pico and jacked off to it! Twice!”

Baji laughs. “Oh, pray tell, saintly (Y/n), how many times did you jack off to it?”

“None of your fucking business, asshole.”

“Pretty fucking sure it is, since we were in the same room.”

Someone chokes, while you choke Baji.

“We. Swore. To. Secrecy. You. Asshole,” you practically growl, with each of your words accompanied by a ruthless back-and-forth shaking of the other boy’s person.

“Let up on the choking, dude. I’m not into that. You, however-”

Unable to take the ceaseless slander to your name anymore, you reel your fist back, but, upon seeing Baji’s cheek turned to you, jaw jutted out, as if inviting you to take your best shot, you hesitate. You know you wouldn’t be able to pack enough of a punch to actually leave an impact on him, which is terribly upsetting.

On the bright side, there’s still one tactic you can use that’ll be just as effective, a technique courtesy of your health teacher, who happily taught it to the class to use in case of an emergency.

Technically, it’s meant to be used to assess a person’s level of consciousness, but you suppose it can be used to get back at inconsiderate idiots, too.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuc-! Ow!”

You keep a straight face as you continue to rub your knuckles against his sternum, fully intent on delivering the worst possible pain to the current bane of your existence. It brings a sort of sadistic satisfaction to hear the ever prideful Baji’s screams of pain, and while it doesn’t completely undo the damage done, it does help soothe your wounded self-esteem.

“You want me stop? Beg for it.”

“Pissing, roleplay, choking, and begging? Goddam- OW!”

Your reign of terror comes to its untimely end when you’re lifted up into the air by the armpits, and through the haze of your power trip, you realize that Baji’s saving grace is Draken, who proceeds to carry you out of the parlor with ease.

“People are staring,” he coolly explains when you protest to having unfinished business.

Pouting, you cross your arms over your chest. “It’s his fault.”

Once outside, Draken doesn’t immediately put you back on your feet, until Mikey strolls out of the parlor. Only when the gang leader has his arms outstretched to you are you promptly deposited on the ground and taken into his embrace.

“Are you done letting off some steam?” is the first thing he asks you. Even though you can’t see his expression, the way he holds you and the way he cradles the back of your head, handling you with the utmost care, is indication enough that there will be no reprimand for, essentially, assaulting your division commander. (You would argue that it was an act of self defense against verbal harassment, but whatever.)

There’s just an overwhelming amount of love. So, so, so much love for each other.

“Yeah, I am,” you eventually answer, followed by a content sigh.

“Good.”

Naturally, that’s the perfect time for the tinkling of the bells above the parlor door to pilfer your attention. Baji’s appearance causes your face to morph into a scowl.

You cling tighter to Mikey, peeking over his shoulder to flip the ravenet off and mouth, ‘Go to Hell.’

As always, Baji answers your attempt to appear opposing with an obnoxious smirk.

‘See you there.’

~~~

“Boku no Pico, huh?”

“Draken, don’t laugh! Baji forced me to watch it!”

“All 3 episodes?”

“Twice.”

“...”

“...”

“Favorite scene...?”

“As if I’d have one.”

"Actually-"

“Ahh! Shut up! Why are you here, stupid Baji?! You live in the other direction!”

~~~

“Hey, (Y/n). Want to try doing the same thing with me?”

You look up, perplexed. Mikey literally just walked into the room, and that was the first thing he said to you.

“Do wha-?”

Your breath catches in your throat when you turn your head, only for you to come centimeters from bumping noses with him. And because he can, he lovingly knocks your foreheads together, too.

“It’s okay. I promise it’ll definitely be fun.”

You should feel ashamed for recognizing the same sequence of lines from Boku no Pico so quickly, though any coherent words are overtaken by an incomprehensible, high-pitched screech, a feat achieved solely by a teenage boy going through puberty.

A combination of shock and amusement crosses over Mikey’s features then. He’s never heard you make that sound before.

It’s cute. Strains the ears quite a bit, but cute.

While Draken lurks beside him, questioning Mikey’s standards of what constitutes as ‘cute,’ you’re sprinting across the room, red-faced, to Baji, who’s already grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Stop tainting my boyfriend, you piece of shit! Give him back his innocence!”

(Unbeknownst to you, whilst immersed in your fit of hysterics, your use of the word ‘boyfriend’ has a certain blond beaming.

“Did you hear that, Ken-chin? He called me his boyfriend.”

“Wow, congrats.”

Mikey either doesn’t give a shit or is simply too smitten to acknowledge Draken’s apathetic response.)

Baji blinks, unable to believe what you’re trying to insinuate. “Innocent? That little gremlin motherfucker?”

Both of you look in Mikey’s direction. When he sees you staring, he breaks out in a smile and throws a wave.

Your heart involuntarily skips a beat at the sight, and, okay, you’re convinced. Mikey deserves better than knowing of that cursed series’ existence.

Clearly, you’re down bad for Toman’s leader, and as such, Baji figures he can use that to quench his boredom for the day.

“Ooh, if only you knew what he gets off to.”

The tone in his voice instantly rouses suspicion. You narrow your eyes at him. “I don’t care what kind of porn he gets off to.”

“Porn? Nah, ya silly goose-”

“Don’t call me that.”

Baji ignores your comment as he moves to sling one arm around your shoulders, the other raising up to mimic an obscene tugging motion that no teenage boy is a stranger to.

“He jerks it to yo-”

BAM!

One second, Baji is lazily hanging off of your person, the next, he’s sprawled out on the floor, face down, and groaning in pain. You expect nothing less after witnessing him receive a rather impressive flying kick to the chest from Mikey.

Before you can assess the full damage, your view gets obscured by a pair of keys.

“Wanna take my bike out for a spin?”

Yes, you know Mikey is trying to divert your attention from whatever Baji was going to say, and, yes, you probably should check on the figure that has yet to get up.

But do you really care?

You take one glance at Baji’s concerningly unmoving body and quickly come to a conclusion.

You do not.

That being said, you quite literally drag Mikey and, by extension, Draken out of there, chanting an excited, “Let’s go!” on your way, abandoning Baji to wither on the ground.

Baji?

Baji feels betrayed.

~~~

"Chifuyu?”

“Hm?”

“Y’know, I was joking.” Baji flips onto his back with a grunt. “Man, who knew Mikey was all grown up?”

The vice captain of the first division hums, seemingly uninterested in his commander’s musings.

It goes quiet for a few minutes, the sole instigator of noise being Chifuyu flipping the pages of his manga.

Unpredictable is Baji, and the same goes for his train of thought.

“I should punch Mikey for kicking me.”

“No, you’d get beat up.”

“...”

“I should punch (Y/n) for Mikey kicking me.”

Truly, unpredictable and senseless.

“You’d still get beat up.”

Baji opens his mouth to argue.

“By Mikey.”

He promptly closes it.

“Fuck it. I’ll keep spicing up their relationship as payback.”

Sighing, Chifuyu closes his book to crouch down next to him. “Baji-san, with all due respect, you’re an asshole.”

Baji Keisuke has experienced betrayal twice today.

And he deserved it both times.

[zachsreaderinserts]

sleepy boys inc x gn!teen! reader headcannons

trying something new! i like bbs and all, but i wanted to write for other youtubers! lemme know if yall wanna see more content like this lol.

this takes place in a minecraft au!!! also, mentions of bad parenting/abusive parents

wc: 2,319

okay the sleepy boys

chaos incarnated, all of them. you can’t deny it

so, when tommy invites a friend from a local village, at first, everyone else is skeptical. since when has tommy made a friend who didn’t hate him within 20 minutes from all the screaming and insults he spewed?

unlike his friends, phil is more excited than anything. though he isn’t tommy’s dad, he feels like it sometimes, so he really wants to meet this new person who has caught the youngest’s attention

techno is very much not on board. he has a hard time trusting people at first glance and having been friends with tommy for the longest, he knows that tommy readily jumps the gun and attempts to befriend literally anything just because he can

and wilbur? indifferent for the most part. yes, he feels the need to make sure tommy is protected and cared for, but he also recognizes that this situation is out of his hands. the best he can do is hope that their friend isn’t an absolute asshole

so, it’s saturday. all three men are sitting on the couch in phil’s cottage, talking amongst themselves as they wait for tommy to come back. techno makes a joke about murdering them, which leads to phil scolding him about his violent tendencies

“you haven’t even met them yet, techno, what the fuck.”

wilbur is simply adding fuel to the fire, making little remarks here and there and watching the whole thing escalate to phil lecturing the piglin hybrid.

because of this, not one of them had noticed that tommy returned, with his newest friend. they both stopped at the sight of phil in dad mode, tommy considering just turning around and taking his friend as far away as physically possible

too late, since techno’s sixth sense made him whip around and stare at the newcomer. this made phil stop lecturing and wilbur quit giggling long enough for tommy to introduce his friend

after saying their name, the friend lifted their hand shyly, face burning from slight embarrassment. their other hand was latched onto tommy’s, feeling intimidated.

can you blame them? the fucking blood god looks like they wanna skewer them and cook them over a campfire.

tommy took notice of their shyness and cleared his throat, “we were planning on going to the carnival in their village if you three assholes feel like tagging along.”

like there was any way they were gonna let tommy and his friend go out without chaperones.

tommy turned back to his friend, “give me a second, i’m gonna go grab my sword just in case.” and proceeded to run up the stairs and towards the guest bedroom in phil’s house that he claimed.

the millisecond he was out of earshot, techno grabbed his friend by the front of the shirt.

“what are your intentions with tommy?”

the friend blinked once, twice, then bit back a smile. “you’re asking that as if i’m about to date that motherfucker.”

this time, it was wilbur who bit back a grin of his own. who would’ve expected the originally shy kid to have replied like that????

techno’s brain short circuited and his grip on their shirt loosened slightly. did.... did this kid just brush off his question???

“can you put me down? you’re gonna stretch my shirt.”

techno’s brain blinked back into focus and he gripped the kid’s shirt harder, shoving them against the nearest wall. “i asked a question, kid.”

“you know, tommy told me something like this would happen. i’m glad i came prepared.” and then, tommy’s friend sucked in a deep breath. techno leaned back, expecting the worst...

“MWISTER TECHNWOBWADE, PWEASE PUT MWE DOWN BEFWORE I SCWEAM”

oh god, this was far worse than anything he thought of.

he dropped the teen out of disgust more than anything, reeling backwards. if there was one thing that haunted his dreams, it was uwu-speak.

phil started howling of laughter, clutching his stomach and hunching over. originally he was going to stop techno from threatening a literal child but this outcome was so much better than anything he was anticipating

wilbur was no better, already tearing up from how hard he was snickering. he started choking on his own spit at one point, smacking his arm against the couch.

tommy was so fucking confused when he came back down the stairs, seeing the mayhem that was, for once, not caused by him. he glanced at his friend, who had the world’s biggest shiteating grin.

yeah, they were gonna fit in just fine.

and they did! phil took them under his wing (both physically and metaphorically) and allowed them to come visit his home whenever they wished. and whenever they did, phil was the first to ask how they’ve been and what they were up to

to phil’s surprise, the kid was overall calm in their choice of activities. things like playing soccer or drawing or figuring out how to learn instruments in their free time. it seemed like they were desperate to get their hands on anything and everything just to learn

he found it funny, though, when their chaotic side shone through. they easily were on tommy’s level when they got into that headspace and it was so hilarious to him.

his favorite memory of the kid was when they walked into the house and marched right up to where techno was reading idly in the corner. planting their hands on their hips, they spoke.

“if you were to fuck a clone of yourself, would it be masturbation or would you be considered gay?”

phil, who was washing the dishes six feet away from them, just about crumbled into a ball on the floor from how hard he was laughing and sobbing.

of all questions, that was the one that came out.

but he had no idea that the chaos was a coping mechanism. he just thought they were naturally like that in their free time.

he soon found out the truth when they came home with tommy, who was cursing up a fit, visibly angry. his friend was slumped over, as if trying to hide themselves from the world

when phil asked what had happened, tommy exploded.

“their fucking dad took all their money from their savings! said he needed it more than them and when they asked for it back, he called them a fucking disappointment! that fucking bitch--”

phil can count very few times when he felt true anger and he can confirm that when tommy had told him what had gone down, he saw red.

but he knew better than to outwardly show it. judging by how hunched over and defeated the kid was, what they needed was a stable support system

so he walked over and shut tommy up with a hand on his shoulder, “why don’t we take the rest of the night to build up that game room you wanted in the basement. i’m sure if we knock it out before techno and wil are supposed to be back, we can all play something like monopoly.”

seeing where phil was headed, tommy nodded and brushed away his anger. he knew that what his friend needed was a serious cheering up. tommy ran towards his guest bedroom, claiming that he was going to find his blocks.

phil crouched in front of the teen, tilting their head up to look him in the eyes. “you’re not a disappointment. you’re an amazing person with a chaotic joke machine going 120 kilos over the speed limit in your head and you are talented. your dad doesn’t know shit about what you’re capable of doing.”

oh boy, the kid’s crying. those are tears, full on tears.

that night was one of the best nights of their life, however. they enjoyed the entire three hour long game of monopoly where they watched the light leave everyone’s eyes. it was funny when wilbur lunged across the table when he landed on a railroad, out for phil’s blood.

speaking of wilbur, he enjoyed every minute in the kid’s presence. they often asked creative and random questions and went along with the abstract jokes he made, the two of them laughing heartily the entire time.

when the kid first mentioned wanting to learn how to play the guitar, he practically burst through the wall of the room next door, breathing heavily and exaggeratedly.

“did someone say guitar”

yeah, he’s feral. that’s canon.

they proceeded to spend the entire day in phil’s garden, each of them equipped with a guitar. despite their outwardly smooth brain and stupid demeanor, the teen was a fast learner and could play the most basic chords by the time the sun was setting.

wilbur’s favorite moment was the first night they met, when they went to the carnival. there was the game where you shoot the water and fill up the balloons and the kid was going head to head against techno and tommy.

it was when techno won that the teen turned to techno with murder in their eyes and spoke in a deadpan tone of voice,

“you’re lucky you won this time, you gentrified mayo monkey.”

wilbur’s jaw dropped, as did techno and phil’s. tommy was already in hysterics, smacking his hand against the counter that held the guns.

needless to say, wilbur found his favorite, not-quite sibling in a heartbeat.

techno was the last to come around with the child. can you blame him? every time he tried to threaten them or had beaten them at something, they would respond in a cryptic threat--

“i’m going to pee your pants if you don’t let me win”

or just brushed him off. without a second thought.

“anyways, i was murdering a chicken the other day, and the fucker had the audacity to ribbit at me.”

to say he was confused was an understatement. he was terrified of the fact that a literal child held so much power and disinterest in things like their own life. so for the first few months, he avoided them.

but he had seen past that when it was around midnight on a weekday. tommy was hanging out with tubbo and ranboo in their village miles away from the area. wilbur was out drinking with schlatt, niki, and fundy, and phil was already asleep.

techno wasn’t too far behind, sitting in front of the fireplace and staring out of the window that showed the front yard. it was only then when he saw the flash of a familiar face and looked closer as the teen walked up to the house quietly. their head was down and they carried a small bag with them.

techno opened the front door with a long creak as they reached the porch steps. it was only when they jumped and looked up in surprise that techno had noticed a deep bruise on their left cheek in the moonlight.

despite the fact that he kept away from them, techno was very protective and territorial of tommy, phil, and wilbur. and since they were attached to the teen, he became protective of them as well.

so all the voices in his head went quiet for a second. before exploding into a mixture of screams and threats, all leading back to protecting the child in front of him.

without thinking, he reached forward and cupped their face for a better view of the bruise. at the warm and soft touch, tears slipped down the kid’s cheeks and they sniffed pathetically.

the voices quickly took a 180, all screaming to take care of them. make them feel better. so, techno led the kid inside and let them spend the night in his room, with them falling asleep on the bed and him falling asleep on the rocking chair in his room.

phil did not hesitate to officially declare himself as the teen’s official father, saying that their biological father was a “little bitch”

now somewhat living with the teen, techno found an appreciation for their quieter moments, when they were reading or simply daydreaming. it was cute, in his eyes. but he also grew to enjoy when they were absolutely feral, especially toward tommy.

his favorite moment with them was when they had gifted tommy a music disc for his birthday. it was sweet and sentimental and tommy just about burst into tears when he saw it.

all of the sappiness quickly vanished when tommy put it into a jukebox.

“FUCK THIS PUSSY, BOY, FUCK. FUCK IT RIGHT, BOY--”

tommy had let out the most terrified scream and it practically engrained itself into techno’s brain. it was the first time he ever laughed at something the teen had done and the teen felt proud of themselves.

and finally, tommy. he was already happy to call himself a friend of the teen’s. they were like peas in a pod, working together.

tommy came to them when his insecurity felt heavy and they came to him whenever their dad’s words got to them. they had a nice system of dependency on one another and neither of them would trade it for the world.

tommy’s favorite moment of being friends with them was during their first birthday living in phil’s house. it was a birthday befitting their personality, with brightly color streamers hung and confetti all over the floor. he knew that they enjoyed it severely and once the cake was cut, the kid turned to phil.

“phil, where’s the big tiddy strippers i requested?”

tommy was GONE

he all but choked on his slice of cake and walked away, shaking his head while trying to stifle his giggles. but when he heard phil’s scream of “WHAT”, he just lost it.

all in all, his friend had made a fine part of the sleepy boys. they were a happy face in an otherwise somewhat bleak and dangerous world. and all four men appreciated it.

[yandere-sins]

One More

Genshin makes my imagination vibrate pleasantly. I just want to give Kaeya a reason to make me go “Oh?” cause he’s not even my one of my favs. But the sheer sex appeal coming from that man is dangerous.

Characters: Kaeya Alberich (Genshin Impact) x Reader Warnings: Yandere, Groping, Innuendos, Alcohol, Aphrodisiacs, Insults

»»———————— ♡ ————————««        

“Hey there, Sweetheart. What’s bringing you to the tavern so late at night?”

You had barely entered Angel’s Share and sat down at the bar before hearing the ever-so chipper voice of the cavalry captain drawing closer. There was nothing strange about meeting Kaeya here after a long day of work, but you and Charles exchanged a glance, the bartender sighing deeply. “I’ve only served him two drinks so far,” he explained, and you couldn’t help but think that was already one too many. 

But who were you to say no to the Kaeya?

Perhaps better than anyone, Kaeya knew about the little game you two were playing. The always so icy shoulder you gave him as he continued to pressure you with his flirts was only making him want you so much more. You couldn’t count the number of times he had stopped you in the headquarters, pinned you between him and the wall - in broad daylight nonetheless - asking how you’re doing and if you need help with anything. You. Were. Sick of it! If he wanted a child to play father for, he could ask Klee to hang out with him! You, on the other hand, were a remarkable knight, trusted enough with complicated orders that - luckily! - kept you out of the city for a prolonged time so you could avoid him. 

It only was hard when you weren’t on duty. Or in the city. Or close to him. 

That’s when he became frisky, rather needy too.

Kaeya brushed his face from the left side of your head to the right, taking a deep breath. If it wasn’t known that you two reached back all the way to your training days, anyone would have raised an eyebrow. But most of the other guards were able to brush off his weirdness for affectionate friendship. It was almost like only you could see behind the farce, and perhaps his estranged brother. Not like Diluc had been any help to you, though, aside from breaking Kaeya off you once or twice when he was around and noticing your discomfort.

Taking up the stool beside you, there was no prior question if the seat was taken. A rather empty keg arrived with Kaeya at the bar, and he briefly tapped the rim until Charles fished for another bottle of alcohol to fill it up with. One could say Kaeya and a drink were a good mix, but to you, they were a terrible combination. Drinking made him bold. Unrestrained even. 

Even though he offered his keg to you, you merely looked away, sipping at your own glass, one you much rather preferred to the brew he drank his night away with. Grinning, he instead took a hearty sip, leaning against the counter leisurely as he watched the bards perform near the entrance, but you didn’t miss even a single glance he sent your way every few seconds. 

It was very unfortunate that you liked Angel’s Share for its drinks best; otherwise, you’d have had a good reason to avoid the establishment. But at the same time, you couldn’t let Kaeya direct all of your life. It was no state that you shouldn’t do what you enjoyed just because he could be there, and yet, you considered it. 

“So, how was your mission? I’ve been missing your skills at training.”

“It was fine,” you answered curtly, uninterested in the conversation he initiated. There weren’t many people you talked to when you came back to Mondstadt. Somehow… it had always been hard for you to make friends with the other knights. Part of you suspected Kaeya being a reason why no one seemed to want to hang around, forcing you to spend most of your training with him since no one was willing to spar with you. Then again, you never had any evidence to confirm your suspicion, just like with many other phenomena you experienced over the years.

More than once had there been instances where your orders had been withdrawn just when you came close to solving the problems, often with the excuses that you were still too inexperienced or needed somewhere else. It had been so hard to raise in the ranks while Kaeya seemed to make leaps forward without a worry, but at least, you managed to secure your place now--one far away from the cavalry captain.

Sighing, Kaeya turned around to face the counter again, plopping his arm around your shoulders. Uncomfortably, you rolled your joints, but he instead pulled you closer to him, the smell of alcohol drafting off his lips as he spoke. “No need to play coy. You know you can tell me the truth. Didn’t you miss being home? I’m sure cleaning up those camps must have been exhausting!”

Missed being with me? seemed to be the words he wanted to say, but he packaged them in a way he knew they’d actually affect you. Kaeya had always been clever enough to poke the places that hurt. Of course, you missed home. You’d miss it more if not for him, but you had your family here, your siblings and parents that you’d like to see more often. But there was no chance with how much Kaeya liked to interfere in it. As if he was already part of your family, inviting himself and always showing up unannounced to hang out.

“‘Twas okay,” you replied after a moment of thought. 

“Well, I missed you,” he chuckled before taking another sip of his keg. “I missed you sooo much!”

That was enough for you, brushing his arm off roughly before turning on your stool to leave. You knew even finding another space to sit wouldn’t spare you from him, and if you ended up in a less crowded area, you didn’t want to imagine what he’d do. “Aw, come on,” you heard behind you as he gripped your arm, making you stop. “I get it, I get it, you’re tired. But you can’t be tired enough not to drink one more with your old pal, right?”

With his voice rising in volume, you two finally gained some attention, and you instantly felt a rush of embarrassment as you stared into quite a few pairs of perplex eyes. Kaeya might have been eccentric, but he was well-liked nonetheless. Causing a scene had never worked well for you, and since you were already deemed an outsider, you’d only catapult yourself more into the shadows if any rumors spread after you left. 

Clicking your tongue, you tore yourself out of his grip before sitting back on your chair again, holding up your finger. “One more. Only one more.”

“Of course,” Kaeya grinned, getting his will once again. “Only one.”

»»————— ♡

Hot lips brushing against each other, you had no better way to describe your state of being other than burning. For someone so cool and with an icy skill, Kaeya was not even close to being cold and reserved when it came to touching you. With a smile displayed on his mouth whenever he wasn’t using it to tease you, you could barely remember how you two ended up making out in one of the backstreets of Mondstadt. His hands were seemingly everywhere, and at the same time, lingered at the spots that created an audible cue from you when he squeezed them. 

“You’re so sensitive,” he noted as you hung in his arms, hands currently squeezing your ass from your thighs upwards. “That’s good, I like that.”

“Fucker,” you merely cursed back. “You only said one more drink! I feel like shit! What the hell was that?”

“On the contrary, you feel amazing,” he ignored your questions, pushing his leg between yours as he pressed you closer to the cold stone wall behind you. A welcome sensation, giving you back some of your senses as the chill helped to calm your heated body. “I fucking hate you, Kaeya,” you confessed drunkenly, but the time was as good as any to say it.

“Ouch,” he brushed it off with a chuckle. “Are you sure? Your body grinding against mine is giving me very different vibes, Darling.”

Next thing, he was back in your mouth, his tongue roaming and keeping yours busy as you slung your arms around him. “You’re so stupid and mean, always testing everyone. You’re probably the reason everyone is avoiding me too, and you don’t let off no matter how much I tell you to leave me alone!”

“Mhm,” he hummed as his lips wandered down your neck, making you stretch it out for him so he could reach better. “And now... I don’t even know! You drugged me?!” 

A soft laugh escaped him before you felt a suck at your collarbone, followed by the wet sensation of a tongue tasting your skin. “Bingo, Baby. Lisa really wanted to know what would happen if someone drank this potion and you were all too eager to get it down your throat-”

“To get away from you!” you interrupted him.

“Whatever.”

Finally, Kaeya came up on eye level again, the two of you staring at each other for a moment in silence. 

“Whatever?” you questioned, confused by his reaction. 

“Yeah, whatever. I think kissing you made me swallow at least, hm... half of it too. Even if we wanted to, we wouldn’t be able to stop now, don’t you think?” 

One of the most disgusting grins you had ever seen on the face of a person played around his lips as he pressed up to you, uniting you two in another kiss. Of course, you could stop it! You could, and you would right now. After all, you had allowed it to go on for far too long now! Pressing your hands into his shoulders, Kaeya let out a soft sigh against your lips, his uncovered eye closed as he enjoyed the affection. “One more,” he mumbled as he kissed you again and again, feverishly and impatiently. “I’ve been waiting forever to do this.”

With the excitement of a teenage boy, his hands roamed your body, pulling out the shirt from your trousers to lodge themselves beneath it. Skillful fingertips drew patterns over your skin, up your spine, and down your sides until you were gasping and shivering in his grasp. “Good,” he sighed against your lips, unbothered by you still trying to push him away, only ever flinching as he groped you. “Don’t you already know it? How much you drive me crazy? It’s only fair I drive you crazy too.”

“What the fuck are you even talking about--” you tried to contradict him. But Kaeya was quick to muffle your voice with another deep kiss. Intentionally or not, he met one of your sensitive spots as he explored you, causing a hitched moan to escape you, followed by a satisfied grunt from him. “I’ve been waiting for so long, I can’t have you take it from me now,” he breathed out huskily. 

“I’ll scream!” you threatened him. “Let me go now, Kaeya!”

“Ah-ah,” he rebuked you, one of his hands being freed of groping-duty to cover your mouth. “No one’s going to take you away from me now either. Come one, be good, okay?”

Waiting for the right moment, Kaeya couldn’t endure your angry stare for very long before falling into soft laughter. “All right, all right,” he chuckled before leaning forward brushing his lips against his hand. “One more kiss, okay? I will leave you alone after that.”

Furrowing your brows even more, he interpreted you shaking your head as a ‘no’, letting out a long, “Aww…” 

“Only one more, pretty please?” 

You had to give it to him: persistency was something he didn’t lack. It felt like shooting into your own foot, but part of you just wanted it to be over. You two had kissed so much up till now; how much worse would one more be? And if he let you go afterwards, you could definitely endure it. Lifting up your hand to yank his from your mouth, Kaeya didn’t expect you to take the initiative, looking at you perplexed as you leaned forward to kiss him. No one ever taught you how to kiss, and without his directions, you weren’t actually sure on how any of it worked, but he didn’t seem to mind, humming a pleased tune before returning your awkward smooches.

When was a kiss one kiss? When the lips parted? After the first initial touch? Kaeya’s definition was two minutes of continuous connection between you two, only briefly drawing back for air but never without upholding the contact by biting and pulling on your lip or having your tongue following his out of your mouth into the cold night. He gripped your head tightly in his palms, not allowing you to get away. Only when he let go did you fall back hard against the wall as you two finally broke apart, and you hadn’t noticed how much he had held you up. 

The rich flavor of alcohol on your tongue and his scent in your nose didn’t help with getting a clear mind, but nothing about you made sense anymore. Now that he had let you fall back and away from him, you felt even hotter than before, your body clearly bothered by the lack of stimulation. What part of ‘I wanted none of this’ did you not understand yourself? At least by the throbbing in your abdomen, you could tell that whatever kind of potion he had given to you definitely wasn’t a fun experience, but all the more potent. 

“Hurts, huh?” he laughed across from you. “Oh, fuck off,” you mustered to say, but the pain was obvious by your expression. You were barely able to keep yourself up properly.

“I’d offer my help, but you made it clear you didn’t want it.” The situation must have been really funny to him, only agitating you more. If it at least hadn’t been Kaeya, you might have accepted help, but you knew you’d have to get yourself home now all by yourself in a state of constant heat with no way to resolve it. 

“You caused all of this! You should at least take responsibility without taking advantage of the situation!”

Pushing yourself away from the wall, you decided it was time to step away. There was no use in talking with Kaeya, but the moment your support dwindled, you noticed how wobbly your legs felt, barely capable of holding you up. What had you trained all these years for if a mere potion could make you so incredibly weak? Before you could get back to the wall, one knee gave away, making you sink to the ground where you could barely catch yourself with your hands. 

“It’s really working you hard, isn’t it?” you heard him speak down from above. Squatting to your level, you felt his hand slide through your hair before gripping and lifting your head to face him. “Tell you what: If you ask nicely, I’ll help you. Can’t promise you’ll wake up in your bed tomorrow morning, but a bed nonetheless, wouldn’t that be nice?”

“Fuck you,” you hissed back, and he shook his head, disappointed. 

“Try again.”

What choices did you have? Risk the little bit of reputation you still had by being found in the morning, disheveled and drunk from the night before? The knights absolutely hated anything that would ruin their pristine prestige, so much even you knew. You had worked so hard to get where you were, could you really risk all of it? “... please,” escaped you before you could think it through further. 

“What was that?” he teased you, and you wondered why he could still be so clear even after drinking much more than you did and having had a taste of the potion from your lips. “Please help me get home.”

This time, he laughed out loud, obviously amused by how pitiful you had to behave to please him. “One more time. Say it one more time, and say it nice.”

Frustrated, you wished you could have punched him in the face, but you only bit your lip, taking a deep breath before complying. “Please, Kaeya. I need your help to get home. Please help me home!”

Embarrassment was all you could think about as he conditioned you to do as he wanted, but finally, after you did what Kaeya demanded, he petted your head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before reaching under your arms to pull you up. “Look at you, all cute and begging me for help.”

Quickly being lifted from the ground, you found your new halt by gripping into his shoulders tightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he held you in front of him. “You’re so adorable!” he chuckled as you clung to him much more in fear of him letting you fall than because you wanted it. He seemed to have similar thoughts, giving you a bit of a scare as he let go of you, having you hang from him by only your own strength, which you didn’t trust anymore. But just as quickly, your horrified expression made him laugh, and he gave your rear a teasing slap. Lucky for you, Kaeya didn’t make you fear any longer, embracing you back and allowing you to sink against him more as he started to make his way through the streets of Mondstadt. From an onlooker’s point of view, it might have seemed like you jumped him out of joy, but really, you clung on as if your life depended on it while Kaeya seemingly enjoyed the hug.

“Just get me home, you Asshole,” you grumbled, but your insults didn’t do any damage to his good mood. “Sure, I’ll get you home,” he replied chipper, but you already had bad thoughts as you heard that.

“At least, the place I call ‘home’,” he confirmed your suspicion, and inwardly, you already admitted defeat even as you punched your fist into his shoulder. 

“You know how it is,” he brushed it off lightly, patting your backside while he climbed the stairs towards the headquarters with seemingly no effort. 

“I can never refuse you or leave you be. I adore you way too much.”