#SWINGS HIM AROUND BY THE ANTENNA

[sasster]

thinks about all of my trolls but like outside of fantroll context

#i know some of these science bitches are cardali and isopods and #RIPS SHIT UP #ISOPOD SCIENTIST COLMEA??? #SHUT UP #LOOK AT ALL HIS ARMS #SWINGS HIM AROUND BY THE ANTENNA

[miguelhugger2099]

Here, Kitty Kitty

Summary: Miguel O'Hara is your world's Black Cat. A/N: me when there's no fanfic of miguel as black cat: fine, ill do it myself Art: Marbipa on twt

Miguel x Reader, No warnings, a little suggestive but that's it, Word Count: 2,535

Swinging on your webs, you hopped from building to building and made sure to to keep an eye out for any more crime during your patrol. You hoped that tonight would be a breeze but unfortunately, the life of a superhero will never rest. You landed by one of the police antennas and heard a call coming through their radios. Tilting your head, you focused on the frequencies to get a better signal. "All units be advised. We've got a call for a robbery in Lower Manhattan. Heading there now, requesting backup." You glanced up at the sky seeing the moon illuminate brightly. "I guess I could help the boys in blue." You shrug and thwip your web shooters, the silk spinning and sticking to another building before jumping off to gain momentum. You hauled yourself up after swinging, diving down between apartments and just barely slipping through a couple fire exits. You thought about who it might be this time. Maybe it was the Shocker again. Oh, he was always so easy to make fun of. No, that wasn't possible: you put him in prison. You just hoped it wasn't another one of Tombstone's men--they were always a little too cocky. Maybe just a couple of randoms trying to make extra cash the wrong way–a boring way to end the night but at least it'd be easy. You swung faster after hearing the sirens of police cars echoing throughout the night of New York. You saw a few police cars behind you and you giggled to yourself, playing a one sided game of who would get there faster. Always the competitive one you were, you stuck your webs onto two poles and pulled back so hard that they bent slightly. Your forearms burned until you let go, slingshotting yourself in the sky and allowing yourself to glide above the city. You wished to take off your mask and feel the breeze properly but you settled for the ripples flapping on your suit. "Robbery, robbery, robbery..." You murmured, swiveling your head around to see where the robbery could've been. You blinked as you spotted the familiar colors of blue and red flashing in the distance. "Robbery!" You grinned.

Zipping through the wind, you landed above what you now see is a jewelry store. You crawl into the shadows, making sure none of the policemen could see you. "Hm. I guess they win this time." You mutter to yourself about your little game. Perching on the ledge, you listened in on their conversation. "Any security footage?" One policewoman asks. "We're checking them now but so far after entering the perimeter, all cameras have been damaged." "Did you see what was stolen?" "A few rings and bracelets. But the owner is more concerned with a diamond necklace. Says it was going to be auctioned off later this weekend." You tilt your head in thought. And they got away? Definitely not some regular citizens. You began to feel a headache creep on you. You couldn't handle another big bad to fight this weekend. You stepped down from the ledge carefully and walked around the top of the building to find a vent. Once you did, you ripped it open and crawled inside, your body sticking to the ceiling. You looked around and saw various cases filled with glittering jewels, ranging in size and colors. You crawled through another room and hopped off the ceiling with a small thud. Looking behind you, you made sure no one had seen you and you began rummaging through the room to find any evidence lying around to catch the perpetrator.

You found yourself in front of the glowing case in the middle. You circled around it, the eyes of your mask squinting at the empty sloth that would've fit a giant diamond necklace inside. The glass was perfectly intact instead of ruthlessly shattered. This was no common thief. No fingerprints, everything was spotless and clean. You took a closer look. "Looking for this, arañita?" You hear a smooth voice behind you. You spin around, shooting your webs to trap the wrist of the stranger behind you to the wall. The familiar tall man you've had a complicated relationship with, Miguel O'Hara a.k.a. Black Cat. His skin tight black suit hugged his built body, white fur fluffed at his forearms and around his shoulders. His suit was opened at his chest, a long slit that gave everyone a nice view of his tanned skin littered with little black and graying hairs. His dark brown eyes were decorated with a thin diamond shaped mask that did little to hide his ‘secret identity’. His dark brown hair was in its usual slick back, gray strands curling in his locks and a pretty black collar around his neck. He tilted his head at you and lifted his other hand to cut your webs off him with an extracted claw. “Eso es como se trata un amigo? I thought your whole thing was being friendly, arañita.” Miguel says light-heartedly, unphased at the way your mask narrowed at him. You noticed that the hand you had webbed up was holding onto a pouch. Miguel slips open the pouch by its strings, lifting out the diamond necklace. He clips it around his neck and it shines in the moonlight that seeps through the ceiling window. He admires his reflection in the cases, his gloved hand caresses the jewels, his nail being gentle with grazing over it. “Isn’t she just a beauty? She’s not my style, personally, but I can appreciate her.” His eyes meet yours and he grins. “I think you would make it look even more beautiful.” You ignore his blatant flirting, your hands itching at your sides, wanting to snatch the pouch from him and return it to the police so the owner could have a good night’s rest–so you could have a good night’s rest. Now knowing the one behind this was Black Cat, your headache had gotten worse and you knew it’d be a long night. Miguel stalks up to you after taking the necklace off and placing it back in his pouch.

“What’s wrong, arañita? Cat got your tongue?” He smirked, his claw grazing under your chin and making you look up at him. You bit down on your tongue. This cat always had a way of pissing you off. “I thought we agreed you’d put this behind you. You’re rich. What more could you possibly want?” You grab his wrist and take his hand off from your chin. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted your attention?” His lips curl up, showing off his fangs. “No.” “Ouch. I’m hurt. I thought we had something.” His smile doesn't falter. “Give back the jewels, Miguel.” ‘Hmm. No. These could go for a lot of money. Way more than whatever that auction it is they’re doing.”

“Miguel, you promised me you would be good.”

His eyes soften for a split second. The memory of your last encounter months ago where you two had spent the night together in the city up on the Empire State building. Your relationship was a confusing one. There had been nights where you were on opposite sides and other nights where he answered your call for help.

Miguel began to trust you. Despite his tendencies to slip between your fingers, you always spoke to him kindly when he wasn’t pushing your buttons–even then he knew you never harbored any actual hatred for him. So after a long night, he confided in you that this was his new life and it wouldn’t change–he’d always come back to a life of crime, it’s who he was. You believed he was better than that.

That night before he disappeared for months, he pulled up your mask just enough to see your lips and he kissed you, leaving with a promise to do better. But cats were known to do whatever they wanted. “You know I’m not good like you, arañita.” His smile turns melancholy. “But you could be.” You insisted. “Give me the pouch.” “I can’t do that, amor.” 

You huffed through your nose, jaw clenching, and you tried to snatch the bag from his hand as quickly as you could. Miguel was faster, his clawed hand grabbing you and forcing you to bend over the glass display of jewelry with your arm behind your back.

You grunted when your cheek met the hard glass and attempted to worm your way out of his hold. You feel Miguel lean over your body, his warm breath whispering next to your ear.

“I've thought about you like this. Maybe with a little less clothing.” He teases and chuckles when you stiffen. 

“Miguel.” You warn lowly. 

“It's been nice seeing you again, arañita, but I've got to run.” You hear a dull clanking sound along with a small whizz.

You felt rope like strings wrap around your body and arms and suction themselves to the glass he slammed you on, trapping you.

Shit.

You crane your head as much as you could to see Miguel take a step back away from you. Just for shits and giggles, he plucks a pair of earrings from a stand and places it inside his bag before raising his hand up at the ceiling window. 

Miguel gives you a wink and a charming smile and his grappling hook zips out from his wrist, denting itself in the wall. It pulls him up and he pops the window open, successfully escaping without leaving a trace.

You groan and knock your forehead on the cold glass. With your strength, you pop the rope off you, stretching your arm and wrist out.

Police began to enter inside the building, their commotion and their comms going off and getting closer to you.

Collecting the ropes, you webbed yourself out through the same window Miguel used and closed it behind you. You tossed the ropes away and began swinging around, trying to sense any trace of Miguel.

“Dammit, kitty.” You mutter under your breath. You ignored the way your heart pounded as you scanned every nearby corner. The sight of him after so long sent flutters in your stomach. You ignored the lingering hot touch of his fingers around you, the weight of his body towering over yours. His hips that gently bucked up against–

You tumbled on the roof of a brick building. This was not how you wanted your night to go. You let out deep breaths, your arms and legs spread out as you lay on your back. 

After a couple of minutes, you sat up. You ripped your mask off and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You felt a turmoil of emotions. 

When Miguel had kissed you that night, it broke your heart. He felt so sure of himself to give you affection but at the cost of his disappearance right after. It hurt but you thought if he could turn his life around for the better, it'd be worth all the heartbreak and what ifs.

You stood up and placed your mask back on your head, your arm raising up to shoot a web when your spider senses alerted you of someone. 

You turn around to see Miguel, half of his body in the shadows.

“I don't have the pouch so don't shoot.” He raises his hands in a mock surrender.

“Didn't you say you needed to run?” Your voice spits and Miguel nods.

“I also said it was nice to see you again.” He walks up to you, his hands gently placing themselves on your hips. You stand tall, not wanting him to know his effect on you. “So forgive me, I'm a little selfish. I wanted to see you one more time.”

“Why are you back?” You mumble. Why are you back in New York?

“I'm sorry, corazón. You know me. It's what I do.”

“So you lied to me.”

Miguel winces. “No. No, I didn't. I tried, believe me.” His hands squeeze your hips. “I tried for you but…it's not for me. This,” He gestures to himself, clad in black spandex and white fur. “This is who I am now. It's how I have to live.”

He cups your cheek, his thumb caressing your mask-covered face. He wonders what you looked like underneath. Were you as beautiful as your body? Your heart? He dreamed so. He knew so.

“I still don't believe that.” You whisper, leaning into his touch, hands slowly going around the back of his neck and he takes it as an invite to bring you closer.

“You're still so naive.” He murmurs.

“You said you liked that about me.” You quipped. Miguel chuckles.

“I did say that.” 

You feel a smile creep up on your face, your heart feeling lighter at the sound of his laugh.

“Hopefully we'll cross paths more often now that I'm back in New York.” Miguel grins. “Te extrañe.”

“I missed you too.” You whisper. With your chest pressed up against his, you could faintly feel the rumble of him purring. Miguel's claws run under your throat, flicking up the fabric of your mask to expose just a bit of your neck as if wanting to lift it off. “But you know I have to turn you in for robbing.” You add.

“Hm. A shame.” He mumbles dismissively. He continues to ride up your mask and you let him. He stops at your nose and leaves it there, eyes focused on the way your lips parted. “Kiss for good luck?” He asks. His eyes glint when you licks your lips subconsciously.

“You’re pushing it, kitty.” You mumble back but your arms tighten around him. Miguel purrs at the pet name.

“Just one kiss.” He insists, leaning down to brush his lips against your mask where your forehead was. You tilt his head further down with your hand at the back of his head and he follows. With your guidance, his lips find yours and your heart skips a beat. Miguel tugs you closer by the waist, pressing your chest and hips together. His hands crawl up your spine while he tilts his head to deepen the kiss. You match his pace with your eyes closed while you feel his soft lump lips caressing yours. You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted–not when his hands roamed your body, squeezing you and devouring as much of your tiny moans as he could. Your hands curled up at the base of his neck while he swiped his tongue across your bottom lip. Gasping, you allowed him access but he pulled away. “I’ll see you next time, arañita.” Miguel whispers against your lips,the fangs of his teeth gently nibble on your top lip before he pulls away. He squeezes your waist, his touch lingering and aching to keep you near but he lets go. He takes a step back from you and jumps back into the night, the sound of his grappling hook zipping through the air faintly. You sigh, trying to slow down your heartbeat with a hand over your chest when suddenly you pause. “Dammit…” You huff and kick a pebble away from you.

a/n: black cat miguel o'hara if you can hear me, please save me, save me black cat miguel o'hara

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x you #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #miguel ohara #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #spiderman 2099 x reader #miguel o'hara imagine

[tinyowlthoughts]

The EC-Theobromine: Bluffing

There were many risks to exploring uncharted space. Unknown blackholes, near-invisible debris fields, hostile civilizations that had achieved space travel but had not yet been contacted by the Intergalactic Governing Body, pirates.

So. Many. Pirates.

Taurvin wasn't a big fan of pirates. Sure, he understood some of their motives - there were those who stole from the rich to give to the poor, or who attacked species intent on slavery and sapient experimentation to rescue the victims. But the majority were just, well.

To use a phrase from his new navigator, they were straight-up assholes.

And unfortunately, his ship was currently taken over by said assholes.

Five of them, to be precise. Normally his crew of nine could handle themself, especially with Lenzoill handling their security, but the bastards had taken them by surprise and used a blaster to Elaana's head to get them to cooperate. So there they were, eight of the best deep-space explorers the Intergalactic Exploration Committee had, kneeling (or the equivalent) before the pirates, limbs pinned behind them with cuffs, completely disarmed. 

Wait.

Ignoring the monologuing pirate captain, Taurvin glanced at his crewmates on either side and counted. Eight. Gorvan and Elaana to his left, Epitak and Dhaca to his right, Lenzoill and Quals slightly behind them, the former knocked out and leaning against the couch, while Ir'ith (who had mouthed off when they yanked out a handful of his feathers) glared daggers from the other side of the room. He'd been trussed up like a zagtul and was gagged, though that was doing little to stymie his attempts at cursing the pirates out. The one guarding him looked more amused than anything, which was likely the only reason the zad was still conscious. 

Still, that only came up to eight. Where was Max?

☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️

Az was having an absolutely stellar day. His crew was meeting expectations, his first mate was being competent for once (even if he hadn't knocked that huffing, cursing zad out yet), and the IEC ship was theirs to plunder. Not that there would be much beyond rations - these types of ships weren't the goldmines the Elite Star Cruises were, but they always had some type of laboratory equipment on board that would fetch a good price on the blackmarket. All in all, a good catch, and not a drop of bodily fluid spilt!

"Uh, did I miss an email?" 

Every head in the room swiveled towards the large doors that led to the halls, revealing a ninth crewmember they had missed. It was upright, bipedal, with two legs and two arms, and a head with fluffy hair. It was wearing standard-issue IEC sleeping garments, down to the slippers, though there was a belt loosely thrown around its waist, a blaster in the holster at its side. As they watched, it opened its mouth wide. At first Az thought it was some kind of threat display, until it stretched its arms over its head and arched its back. A yawn - had the simpleton been sleeping while they captured its crewmates? Pitiful. 

"You," Az motioned to one of his crewmates - he couldn't remember her name - "Tie it up with the others."

"Yes sir." Crewmate nodded, reaching for the extra cuffs hanging from her belt. 

The newcomer scratched at its head as she approached. "What, not going to ask me to dinner first?" It pressed its hands to its hips and leaned back, creating a horrible cracking noise that shot through the room like thunder. The pirates winced, as did some of the hostages. "I keep telling them not to do that," muttered the captured Lepidae, her antennae curling tight in annoyance. 

Crewmate hesitated, glancing back at Az. Surely a motion that produced a noise like that should have broken its back? But the creature seemed fine, now swinging one arm across their chest, caught in the bend of the other, apparently - stretching? They switched arms, seeming to bounce a bit as they moved, and Az gave her an impatient glare. He didn't know what creature this was, nor did he care - it was an obstacle, and needed to be dealt with.

In the second they had taken their gaze off it, the interloper had drawn their blaster. It was unlike anything Az had seen before, made of some kind of blue metal - perhaps cobalt? Vanadium? - with brighter markings painted along the sides. The barrel was blocked by some kind of disc - he couldn't see down it for a projectile, nor could he see any kind of energy-concentrating device for a laser. A type of deterrent ammo, perhaps? One not made to kill, but instead drive away? Little good that would do - they had already captured the ship.

"I've gotta say, I'm not really a fan of how you're treating my friends." It bounced a bit on its heels. "Then again, this gives me an opportunity to use the latest in human technology!" It waved the blaster a bit, and Az felt his internal organs shudder. Human technology? He'd never met a human himself, but he'd heard of them. Great, hulking beasts woven of dense muscle, with teeth able to tear through flesh and bone and a penchant for destroying first and never asking questions. How did this scrawny thing get its hands on a human weapon?

Before Az could demand the crewmate take care of the bipedal thing, it fired. The projectile was not particularly fast, but it was silent - no hum of energy or blast of the more primitive explosive some species favored. A near-silent click, and then Crewmate screamed and ducked away. They hadn't been shot, however - the projectile had hit Az. Right in the chest. The disc had attached to his armor, and there was a long, thin rod sticking out of it. He reached up to snatch it off, but a 'tut' sound from the interloper had him freezing.

"Don't touch it," the bipedal advised, still holding the blaster as it gesticulated. "Skin contact with the probe will make it work faster."

"Work?" His first mate asked with a strangled sound. The zad at his feet had gone silent, and was looking between Az's face and the probe attached to his chestplate with wide eyes. With so much of his beak and face covered by the gag the captain couldn't make out his expression, but he assumed it was terror - identical to his first mates. 

"Mmhmm." The interloper beamed, looking proud of itself. "The disc - the part attached to your armor there? - is reading and calculating the material makeup of your form. Then, when it's settled on what will be most painful, the foam will be atomically altered into the most effective acid for destroying you and then be injected into your torso - or whatever fleshy part is closest - and eat you from the inside." It was still bouncing on its heels, looking excited. "I've never seen it happen in person, do you mind if I take notes?"

Az didn't respond - he was frozen, staring down at the probe sticking out of his chest, terror curling in his chest. This was what the humans were up to? Creating biological acid weapons? No wonder they were so widely feared! "Crewmate, remove it!" He turned to the woman, only to find her with her backing up, hands raised, cuffs clattering to the floor.

"N-no way! I don't wanna be digested!" She gasped. Az turned to his first mate, who had lost the usual green flush to his face and backed away as well. 

"If you really want to get it off, you'll need some really strong pliers. And probably some anesthetic. It'll be painful - you can't feel it, but the probe's wires have already drilled through your chest plate and into your skin. They're made to be sneaky," it waved the blaster. Az glanced back down at the probe and grimaced. The thing sounded outlandish, but the interloper spoke with such conviction that he couldn't doubt it. And there were more of the probes - he could see them in a clip attached to the blaster.

The interloper tapped his chin with the blaster. "We don't have anything strong enough on board, but-"

"Fall back to the ship." Az snapped, all seven hearts racing in his chest. His crew didn't argue, falling in line at his side. They stared at the interloper, who took a step to the side, leaving the door open. It didn't point the blaster at them, but kept it in hand, watching them carefully as they rushed out, heading towards the docking port. 

When Az glanced behind them, he saw it following at a leisurely pace, blaster still in hand. Not wanting to get a second probe to his back, he practically threw his crewmates into their ship and set about undocking and getting as far from the cursed ship as possible. 

It was not a good day. 

☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️🏴‍☠️☠️

Ir'ith was losing his gods damned mind. He fell onto his side, cackling and wheezing, fighting against the gag to get enough air to keep up the laughter. The ship shuddered as the pirates undocked, then Max was standing in the doorway, looking exhausted. 

"Max! Are you unharmed?" Taurvin demanded, using Gorvan to lever himself to his feet. It was a bit awkward with his hands cuffed behind his back, but he managed to stumble to the human. 

"I'm fine." The navigator waved him off with the hand still holding the blaster. Taurvin flinched back, not wanting to come into contact with one of the probes, which set Ir'ith off into another gale of muffled laughter. Max rolled their eyes and, before Taurvin could stop them, pointed the blaster at the zad and fired several rounds. The probe's bright-orange discs hit and stuck to Ir'ith's uniform, and one hit the bit of his beak that wasn't covered, giving him a blue growth in the middle of his face.

"No! Max, how could you?" Elaana cried, struggling frantically against her cuffs. "Don't worry Ir, I'll be right there! We can save you." 

"Wait, did he get hurt?" Max stuck the blaster in its holster and hurried over to Ir'ith before Taurvin could stop him. The human dropped to their knees and helped the still wheezing zad sit up before pulling off the gag. 

"I'm fine!" Ir'ith reassured the others. "The darts don't do shit, stop worrying." He turned slightly so Max could fiddle with the cuffs around his wrists. They were an older model, nice and rusty the way pirates liked it, and only required two buttons being pressed at the same time to release. It took a bit of effort, but then the zad was freely rubbing his wrists. 

"But Max said it was a new human weapon!" Epitak accused, wings fluffing up and hitting Dhaca in the face. The snallygaster, being only three feet tall, was knocked over on his tail. 

"Oh, the probe stuff?" Max reached out and plucked one of said probes from Ir'ith's chest. "This is just plastic and foam - no technology at all." They wiggled the probe in their fingers, then stuck it to Ir'ith's beak, giving him two blue horns now. Elaana made a worried squeak, but didn't protest when the cook didn't show any ill signs. 

Max moved to help Taurvin with his cuffs. Once the captain had his two arms free, he had to ask, "Max, what exactly is that weapon?"

The human grinned, pulling the blaster from their belt and wiggling it. "This? It's Nerf, or nothin'." 

#humans are space orcs #EC Theobromine #writing #haso #humans are deathworlders #bluffing

[voxisdaddy]

You

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Pairing: Vox x Reader

Type: Angst

Featuring: A lil bit of Alastor

"I really wanted it to be you. So badly. Until I understood that you didn't want it to be me." -b00zell

“I really wanted it to be you”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ Never in the decades that Vox has been in hell that he thought he’d find someone who just gets him the way you do. It almost blew him away. It’s ironic he’s asking but-were you hypnotizing him? No. Of course not. But no one could deny that you had him wrapped around your finger. And you barely had to do anything. You were just… you. The way you smiled, laughed, carried yourself, spoke, touched him, ect. Everything you did was just normal things and yet it seemed like it meant everything because it was you. He remembers one night when you showed up in casual clothing to a fancy dinner date. He remembers how embarrassed and apologetic you were-the name of the restaurant didn’t seem all that impressive at the time. And despite your initial worries that you embarrassed your perfectionist boyfriend that night, the cyan electric current that flashed into a heart shape from the tips of his antenna’s was enough to make you feel flustered for a completely different reason. Hell is forever. And since that night, he felt his forever with you would be the most enjoyable.

“So badly.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ VoxTek and Vox’s status as an Overlord just kept growing and growing which meant things change. For the better-he thought. Of course his beloved wanted to see him be as successful as can be. But as the success kept going, the more your lives seemed to not matter as it once did before. Weekly date nights turned into monthly date nights. No longer would you go to bed together and wake up either entangled in each other’s limbs or one of you snuggling into the other. Good morning kisses before he leaves for work? Yeah… good luck catching him before he’s out the door. Home cooked meals? Sweetheart-why bother when he can just order the highest quality meals for breakfast, lunch, and dinner? His mood swings worsened-if even possible-and soon coming home to a partner that’s already sleeping would just make him more agitated. Marriage was casually brought up by Velvette-something about wanting to make wedding dresses for an upcoming fashion show-he doesn’t quite remember. His inner fans were working hard in his head as the thought of you in a wedding dress kept him deep in thought. Perhaps rings binding you two together legally would reunite some spark. Yes. Surely it would!

“Until I understood,”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It was some dumb argument. Something small and meaningless. But the stress and constant work days Vox faced paired with your loneliness and bitterness that started growing however long ago seemed to have erupted. Things were said. Tears were shed-mainly from you. When things calmed down, Vox foolishly thought you’d be in his arms all night as you had makeup sex just like all the times previously-wait what do you mean you’re done? Their was no more shouting and tears that night but everything remained tense and heavy. Very bitterly and painfully Vox huffed as you packed a bag. You’re not serious. You’ll come back to him and everything will be okay.

“that you didn’t want it to be me.”

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒ It had been several years. For months he tried everything to win you back until one day you just vanished. That was impossible. He had cameras everywhere in the Pride Ring. He would have noticed. An extermination wasn’t due for months at that point so you wouldn’t have been taken. What happened? One day Alastor showed up after being gone doing god knows what. Vox was of course angry about Alastor but couldn’t help and be filled with little rejoice when he finally saw you on his monitors again. That was rather short lived when rumours spread that Alastor had taken a lover and had spent 7 years on honeymoon with them. You know… Vox is incapable of crying, at least in the typical sense. His head wouldn’t allow it. So then how come seeing that ring wrapped around your finger make him feel like he could do the literal impossible?

“I really wanted it to be you…”

I hope I did okay for my first one lol. This took longer to come out than I thought it would. I’m only a smidge over 24 hours so it still counts right, RIGHT?!???? I’m kidding. Thanks for reading!

💕🌸

#Hazbin Hotel #Vox x Reader #Hazbin Hotel Vox #Hazbin Hotel Vox x Reader #Angst #Vox HH

[babyhatesreality]

Daddy stucky x little reader where they in the avenger tower and she meet rocket and groot for the first time and rocket scares her but she finds groot extremely adorable 💕🍯🦝

HEE HEE HEE HEE HEE.... So this sparked two ideas, because Rocket is my absolute favorite non-human Avenger/Guardian/Marvel character. So may I present...both options :D

Head Canon for Adorable Groot

The whole team was gathered, ready to welcome the newest Avengers. Thor had met the Guardians somewhere off the planet (but no one would tell you how, no matter how many times you begged), and after an "adventure" (again, no one would tell you what that adventure entailed), but you were all gathered together to welcome them while they visited Earth.

You were holding Steve's hand, craning your neck to get a good look at them, as Fury and Thor led them into the big common room. Your breath caught as you spotted them for the first time. They...were...so...COOL. There was this big blue guy with red tattoos and this really pretty green lady with the biggest sword EVER and a regular looking guy with these super old headphones and another pretty blue lady but she looked like you shouldn't talk to her and a pretty lady with antennas and...

"Alright, alright, let's get this over with," you heard a voice growl out, but you couldn't see where it was coming from. You tugged on Steve's hand to get him to pick you up so you could see better, and he did. But just then, the source of the voice jumped onto the nearest table quickly, scaring you as you weren't expecting it. It was....

A stuffy??

"I wanna make one thing perfectly clear," the raccoon-like creature said, making your jaw drop. It TALKED?! "Yes, I talk. No, I'm not their pet. Yes, I'm the leader."

"No, no, everyone, he's not the leader..." the dude with the headphones tried to interrupt, but the raccoon kept going right over him.

"And I swear on every star in the Galaxy that if anyone tries to pet me, I will gnaw their hands off. Capeesh?" He looked around at the stunned group, then nodded once in satisfaction. "Good. Glad we got that out of the way." He hopped off the table. "Got anything to eat in this shit hole?"

You refused to let go of Steve after that, causing Bucky to make all the introductions. After a couple minutes of you keeping your head buried in Steve's shoulder, you heard the strangest voice you'd ever heard before.

"I am Groot."

"I am Steve Rogers."

You looked up carefully. Surely if Papa was talking to someone, they couldn't be all that scary. Your eyes went wide as saucers when you realized that there was a tree person in front of you, and that tree person talked. You gulped hard as Groot tilted his head at you, studying you. Finally, he spoke again.

"I am Groot," he said to you, then gave a small smile. And for some reason, that little grin made you feel okay.

"I am Katie!" you said in a soft voice and smiled back. Groot held his arm out in front of you. You watched in awe as a tiny white flower grew out of his forearm. He plucked it carefully, and handed it off to you. Instant Best Friend Mode Activated.

By the time the Guardians were ready to leave for the night, both Drax and Quill were trying to threaten Groot to let you down from the makeshift swing set he'd made of his own body for you. You were giggling like crazy, more than willing to listen to the grown ups, but every time you tried to slide down, Groot would stubbornly swing you back up in the air, causing you to scream with laughter again. He kept saying "I am Groot," which you were pretty glad you couldn't understand exactly what he was saying to Drax and Quill because judging by their reactions, it was a lot of no-no words.

It was only when Steve and Bucky proclaimed that they needed to take you home that Groot finally set you down with a sweet pat to your head. You made him promise to come back and swing with you again tomorrow and he nodded excitedly, once again proclaiming that he was Groot. You were pretty sure that meant "yes".

Head Canon for Adorable Rocket

You were bored out of your mind. Papa and Daddy had been in a super boring meeting all day with some new people called the Guardians of the something. It had been a last minute but full team meeting, but they were discussing something that was "not suitable for little ears", whatever that meant. You, Peter, Wanda, and Pietro were stuck in the rec room, being watched by Kate. There were plenty of activities, but you weren't feeling any of them today, and your daddies hadn't had time to pack a day bag for you before you all rushed upstairs.

Wrinkling your nose, you skipped over to Kate. "Can I please go get a snack from the kitchen?" you asked her, putting on your best adorable face.

"Come on, squirt, you know you need to stay here," Kate said, ruffling your hair playfully. You giggled at her teasing, but tried again, making even bigger Bambi eyes at her.

"Pleeeeeeease? I will be so fast, I promise," you begged. Kate always was a sucker for your doe eyes, so she sighed heavily, then smirked at you.

"Go get some carrots, okay? Get enough of those little bags for everyone. Then come right back."

"Carrots? Yuck."

"Carrots or nothing, kiddo."

"Fine. Can I get juice boxes too?"

"Think you can carry all that?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I can!"

"Alright then. You got three minutes. Scoot. And get right back here, got it?"

You were off like a light. You knew better than to call Kate's bluff, especially after last time...you skidded into the kitchen, relieved that you had gotten a breather. You were gathering the mini bags of carrots and juice boxes when you heard a rattle in the big cupboard. You turned your head and suddenly found yourself face to face with a raccoon.

Too startled to do anything but freeze, you just stared, trying to figure out A. why there was a raccoon in the Avengers' kitchen and B. why a raccoon would need to wear pants. The animal looked down at the snacks in your hands, and then to your absolute astonishment, grinned at you.

"Nice," he said. Then he held up an oh so familiar package. "I'll trade you for one of these, kid. Huh? Whatdaya say?"

Who cared if the raccoon was talking? He was gonna give you cookies for carrots.

"Deal!" you said, tossing him a packet of baby carrots. He caught them easy as anything, then tossed you two oreos in succession. You quickly shoved one in your mouth before anyone could stop you, chewing and swallowing as fast as you could. "I'm Katie," you managed to say.

"Rocket. Nice to meet you, kid," the raccoon said. As you shoved the second Oreo in, Bucky came around the corner. He did a double take, seeing you standing there with Rocket. He made a beeline for you, picking you up quickly.

"What are you doing out here, Baby?" he asked, a hint of suspicion in his tone (He knew you well). You swallowed the last bit of cookie as fast as you could before answering.

"Getting snacks for everyone, Daddy," you said innocently, holding up the mini bags of carrots. Bucky's glare narrowed as he could see the tell tale hints of Oreos in your teeth.

"Did you take the Oreos out of the cupboard?" he asked sternly. You shook your head vehemently.

"Nope, I didn't take the Oreos out!" you chirped, because technically, you didn't. Bucky looked back down at Rocket, who was now munching away on a bag of carrots, and put two and two together quickly. He sighed heavily.

"Come on, back to the playroom," he muttered. "Rocket, Nebula has an idea about the propulsion system, said she needs you to do the...well I don't want to repeat it right now but she's asking for you."

"Roger that," Rocket said, wiping his paws off on his pants. He grinned at you. "See you around, kid."

Later that night, at the group dinner, you were thrilled when you new friend decided to sit next to you. About half way through the dinner, Rocket leaned over to you.

"So. Bucky's your Daddy, huh?"

"Yup."

"He ever take that arm off?"

"Sometimes!"

"You wanna trade me that arm for as many cookies as you want?"

".....how many are we talking?"

#daddy!bucky #daddy!bucky x little!reader #daddy bucky #daddy bucky x little reader #daddy!steve #daddy!steve x little!reader #daddy steve #daddy steve x little reader #daddy steve rogers #daddy!steve rogers #daddy steve rogers x little reader #daddy!steve rogers x little #daddy stucky #daddy stucky x little reader #daddy!stucky #daddy!stucky x little reader

[hellsburners]

yellow sunrise

summary: you and peter take things to the next step. pairing: teacher!peter parker x librarian!male reader word count: 2.8k warnings: fluff, a bit of angst, eventual smut, protected sex, top!peter, bottom!reader, tears were shed you guest how, peter is a good boyfriend..kinda? a/n: part 2 to orange juice^^

masterlist | more peter parker

The past few weeks have been very good. Peter would occasionally visit you in the library with packed lunch, you tried to do the same but cooking was never really your strong suit. You would spend lunches eating together at the library talking about stuff going around the school, Mayday, and the library. He also took you to a new science museum in Brooklyn, the two of you stood in awe as you saw new advances in science and technology.

Mrs. Diaz, the head librarian, took note of your good performance for the past months and has said that she will give a good word for your promotion. You and Peter went out on a drink that night to celebrate. You have also stayed in touch with Mayday, the three of you would watch movies together, go to parks, and it was like you were bing included in their small family.

On the way home from work, you were carrying an Ikea bag full of art materials since the library department settled on joining in with halloween decorations. You planned on cutting up colored paper into some decor. It was cold tonight, so cold that you zipped your jacket over your two seaters as you went to a bodega to grab a sandwich for dinner. The old man in the cashier took your order and you gave him 6 dollars in return. The heavy blue bag sinking into your skin makes it hurt a little. A small TV, like the box ones with antenna, near the cash register was playing the news. 

BREAKING NEWS: Multiple assailants attack a bank in Queens. The villains known as The Sinister Six attacked a local bank seeking the presence of the web-slinging hero, Spider-man. The assailants are identified by their aliases, Boomerang, Beetle, Shocker, Overdrive, and Speed Demon. Four hostages were seen in the premises but a final number has not been confirmed.

The old man gave you the sandwich and you went hurrying to your next block. A few corners from the bodega you saw smoke billowing in the street corner to your place. The beetle flying with her pink wings as Spider-man came swinging after her. A crowd of people surrounded the bank, police on hold to barricade them. You knew how dangerous this was but you’ve never seen Spider-man in person, and there he was.

Spider-man was wounded by sharp boomerangs that flew across the sky. There were five villains against one Spider-man. You saw the hostages leave the bank from Spider-man distracting the criminal, some were wounded and coughing from the smoke. Your mind went to Peter, is he safe? You tried to dial for his number but no one answered. Spider-man took the Sinister Six one by one, the crowd cheered for him. 

With worry dragging on your foot you hurried home. You kept on dialing for Peter’s phone, still no answer. In your peripheral you could see a shadow creeping up behind you. You tried to walk faster but the man’s hand was already on your shoulder. “Nice phone you got there kiddo,” the masked man said. Your heart raced, he was holding a short kitchen knife. “Come on now, give it away or else I’ll hurt ‘ya!” the man swung his knife at you but you quickly fell back. You ran yelling for help as he stood up to run after you.  

“You know, I was on my way home from the bank earlier but I heard some yelling and then I see you Bernard,” the man perched in a streetlamp yelled. A masked man in red and blue, Spider-man. He flicked his wrists and webs stuck to the thief’s arms binding them together. He swung down and bound the thief’s legs too. He wrapped him in webs and stuck him to the pole. Spider-man picked your phone from the man’s pocket and gave it to you. 

“You saved my life,” you said.

“Yeah, just your friendly neighborhood Spider-man,” You couldn’t help but stand in awe. “By the way, this street gets a little dark at night, prone to pickpockets so I suggest you go through the other street it's safer.” 

You were speechless in his presence but you managed to utter another thank you. Spider-man made sure the man was stuck to the pole and swung again. You rushed to your apartment, no more stops, you promised. Your phone rang the moment you got inside, it was Peter. 

“Peter! Oh my god I was so worried, are you okay?” you put your stuff down, unzipping your jacket afterwards. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Sorry I couldn’t pick up your phone. I was doing some laundry,” you let out a sigh of relief. “How about you, are you okay? I saw the news.”

“Well, I almost got robbed. But Spider-man saved my life!” you could hear sirens outside your winds and in Peter’s, his being a bit louder. “Are you outside?”

“Oh, I just got in. Have you eaten?” he said, diverting the topic. Your eyes glanced at the paper bag in your bag, the contents flattened, some sauce leaking through the paper.

“Well, my sandwich got smushed so I’ll try to salvage what's left of it.” he laughs.

“I’m gonna call you later, I promised Mayday I’ll let her show me her new drawings from art class,” you felt relieved knowing he gets to talk to her. Whenever Mayday is even mentioned in conversation a weight would leave his shoulders.

✎𓇢𓆸

You snuggled up in bed wearing a worn out shirt and gym shorts. You were reading a book, your eyes weighing in as you turn a new page. Your phone rings, Peter was a man of his word. You pick up the phone, Peter says he was just getting into bed as well. He groans as you hear him get down in the soft cotton sheets. 

“Sorry, did I bother you?” he said. You assured that he didn’t since you love hearing his voice, especially before sleep. It was comforting. “So, how was this Spider-man? Did you finally feel like you met the man of your dreams?” he says jokingly. 

“We actually kissed as he went down on his webs. It was very romantic,” you retort.

“Is that so?” he says, his brows raised. He was being playful. “That's all you did? Next time let me watch.”

“Okay, you voyeur,” you chuckle. “Snooping around me and Spider-man.” you gave him a bossy tone. You both laugh from the sheer childishness of your conversation. 

“You know what I want?” his voice lowers to a gravelly hoarse whisper, like a morning voice. “I want whatever Spider-man is having.” You giggled. Peter and you have been tip-toeing on taking things to the next level. You’ve made out before, gotten to some touching, once you even straddled him while making out, but nothing more than that. Peter would always seem to restrain himself. 

“You want to get hurt too? Didn’t know you had that side in you, Parker,” you hear Peter groan as he changes positions in bed. 

“Would you,” Peter muttered, his voice was shaky, like he was just caught in a lie. Blood rushed through your veins. Whatever scared Peter scared you too. “Would you want to stay with me tomorrow night? I don’t know, I felt like it was time.”

Oh.

He went there, you thought. You weren’t in a rush, in a way you felt scared that doing this would change the dynamic you two had. From being flirty coworkers to something more serious. You bit your lip, thinking about the words that came out of Peter’s mouth. “No pressure of course. I’ll move at whatever pace is most comfortable for the both of us.” he said with a voice that you felt was his sincerest. 

“I’d love to. I’m excited actually,” Peter was shocked with your answer, he said he was happy and would make sure you were comfortable. 

✎𓇢𓆸

Peter told you to come by his apartment by 9pm since the faculty had its quarterly meeting and would probably finish late. He also said that you should wait for his text before you came, so as not to spoil the surprise, whatever that meant. So you sat on your couch, dressed for the occasion. You made sure everything was good, you looked presentable, showered, flossed and brushed your teeth, you even used your more expensive perfume a friend gave you for your birthday. You looked at the clock ticking and moving its hand at you.

For what felt like forever the clock went from 6pm to 7pm.

And then 8pm.

Then 9pm.

Then it was 11:30pm. No text. No call. Nothing.

You started to feel shame, like someone had undressed you in public, or took away your shoelaces and tied them up together. It was embarrassing, you felt like this was bound to happen. That Peter was bound to disappoint you somehow. That giddy feeling was temporary and it was pulled under you like a rug, hitting your ass on the hardwood floor like an idiot.

Thud!

You went on your feet to check the loud sound that hit your window. You took a kitchen knife and slowly crept your way to the window. The window was open, the wind blowing on the curtains hiding the shadowy figure creeping on you. You heard the figure groan. You slowly saw the man come in. Clad in blue and red spandex, the lean man entered your home. He was unmasked, a man in his 30’s with a slight stubble, his brown hair a tousled mess.

“Peter?”

He looked at you with his large brown eyes. His face had a light cut on his cheek. His gait was weak the way he walked towards you. You couldn’t fathom whatever was in front of you. Your chest heaves from thinking. How long has he been doing this? Is that why—

“Hey, I know what you think,” he gestures for you to calm down. 

“You have no idea of what I’m thinking about right now.”

“Just put the knife down and we can talk. Can we talk?” the both of you sat down on your small dining set, your chairs parallel one another. “I’m sorry I was late and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You made the calculations in your head, Spider-man has been a hero of the city for 17 years. Peter has been doing this for that long? You stared at him speechless. He looked at you with the same sad puppy eyes he would always do, his brows raised and furrowed, his bottom lip protruded a bit, his shoulders relaxed. “I didn’t want to risk your safety.”

“But why show me now?”

“Well, to be honest, I think I got hit pretty well so I couldn’t swing back home.” he smiled. “But most importantly I wanted you to know. So you have the option to stay or to go.”

“Why would I do that?” you said, your arms crossed, your brows furrowed with confusion. Peter looked down on his hands on the table. You could see tears forming under his eyelashes. “Why would you make me choose?” You stood up and took his hands, you held them in your palms, warm and calloused. He looked up at you. You take your thumb and wipe his tears. “I choose to say Pete, because I want to. You’ve been this city’s hero for years. And I’ve looked up to you most of my life. I know you’re capable of protecting the people of this city, but I want to be here to support you. Be the guy who takes care of Spider-man when he’s hurt and to make the man underneath the mask feel loved.”

Peter stood up, his body towering over you. He placed his hands on each side of your face, bending down to place his lips on yours. It was a tender kiss, tears falling from Peter’s face. You bring him to your bedroom, his arms wrapped around your waist. His gloved hands occasionally peered under the hem of your shirt touching bare skin. He tries to grab the zipper on his nape, he struggles a bit, the two of you laughing. You helped him unzip the suit. Your eyes wandered through the landscape of his back, wide and muscular, yet it also showed who he was when the city called. Scars left and right, some new, some old, and yellowish bruises around his ribs.

Peter, now only wearing his black boxers, sat down on the bed with you standing in between his thighs. He peppered your neck with kisses. He started to pull on the hem of your shirt, lifting it above your head. Your shorts and underwear came after. With his hands now placed on the back of your thighs, he gestures for you to straddle him. Doing as you’re told he starts to caress your ass, his large hands hugging them fully. 

Peter pulls you back, his back on the bed while you towered on top of him. Your arms both at the side of his head supporting your weight. You could feel Peter’s erection stirring inside his underwear, you rub yourself on the hardness, his eyes fall back as he curses. “You’re unfair,” you said, pointing your eyes at his underwear. Peter smirked, pulling his underwear until it was at his ankles.

You started to stroke his cock while leaving kisses on his neck, your room filled with the sound of grunts and moans. You go down to your knees at the edge of the bed. You take his cock inside your mouth, you hadn’t realized it was the mouthful. Saliva coats his hardness while it goes in and out your mouth. Peter sits on the edge of the bed, his hands running through your hair. 

“Fuck, you’re so good.” Peter moans.

“Language Mr. Parker,” you jokingly said before continuing your task. Peter’s noises began to become louder, the grip he had on your hair became tighter. He taps your shoulder, his chest heaving, you ease down releasing his wet cock. The head throbbing and red, white liquid already forming at the tip. 

“Do you have condoms?” Peter asked. You stood up to take the condoms and the bottle of lube in your nightstand. Peter takes your hand and brings you to the bed, your positions now reversed, with your back to the bed while his body towers over you. He kisses you once more before he puts the condom on his dick, stroking it with a palm full of lube. 

“You ready?” he whispered to your ear. You nod, he puts a lubed finger to your hole, preparing you for his erection. With a slow thrust of his hip he sheathes himself inside you. You both let out a loud groan. You take him to you, kissing him more to ease some of the sting. After your body has acclimated to the pressure, Peter starts to push his cock in and out of you, the pressure begins to turn into pleasure, your eyes welling with tears. Peter starts to suck on the skin on your neck, not enough to mark but enough to make you a whimpering mess under him. Peter’s hands find yours, your fingers intertwined as he places them beside you. His thrusts were deep, the strokes long, you felt so full of him, his body, his scent, his essence. Your body surged with pleasure. 

He starts to stroke your cock, your arms now wrapped around his neck. Your mouths become slopier by the second. You tell him you were close, he tells you the same. With his thrusts becoming more erratic your muscles clench making your hole tighter. Peter groaned from the sudden tightness. Your arms wrapped tighter on his neck, his face on your ear letting out profanities. At the moment your moans, his hip and yours, gave out the same rhythm. The pleasure fills you up with intensity. The two of you at the same time called out for each other’s name as you climaxed. 

✎𓇢𓆸

You woke up from the scorching heat of the sun on your bare skin, the room filled with yellow light. The window was open and Peter was gone. You stood up to take your shirt and your shorts, stretching your neck before getting a glass of water. In the dining table you saw a paper folded into a flower with a note next to it.

Had to go do something, duty calls (also because I stink). I didn't want to wake you because you looked so peaceful,but I will see you later I promise. Thoughts on swinging around town with me? It’ll be fun I promise! I had a great night by the way. I love you.

-Peter. 

interactions are greatly appreciated btw if u liked this fic and want more send me a prompt and i'd gladly make something from it :>

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x reader fic #peter parker fluff #peter parker x male reader fluff #spider-man x male reader #peter parker smut #tasm!peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader smut #peter parker x male reader smut #the amazing spiderman #tasm!peter parker x male reader #tasm!peter parker x male reader smut #peter parker fanfic #spider-man fic #spider-man x reader

[emeraldspiral]

A venn diagram of the queer/neurodiverse content depicted in Invader Zim. I've already talked about the inherent queerness of Zim and mentioned a few times that there’s a big overlap with autism/neurodiversity but I thought this would make a handy reference. Note that “neurodiversity” isn’t just autism/ADD/ADHD but also includes mental illness, personality disorders, mood disorders, learning disabilities, and anything else that isn’t “neurotypical”.

On the queer side there is actual canon queer rep in the show and comics:

Irkens are canonically aroace and intersex.

Groyna from the comics was confirmed by Eric Trueheart to be a lesbian.

Commander Poki from the comics may be trans, as she has eyelashes normally only seen on female Irkens, but lacks the curled antenna every other female Irken is shown to possess.

Recap Kid's gender is deliberately ambiguous.

There are also many instances of queer-coding that can be seen throughout the show such as:

The homoerotic rivalry between Zim and Dib.

Red and Purple basically being Zim's two gay dads.

Zim and several other characters having campy and dramatic mannerisms.

Zim using Keef and Tak as beards.

Zim and GIR wearing make-up/cross-dressing and generally not concerning themselves with or even being aware of gender conformity.

That time Dib's personality was copied into the body of a female ship which became very distressed at being told it wasn't really a boy and changed its physical appearance to match its brain.

Other queer elements featured in the show include:

Female characters who aren't love interests/show no interest in romance.

Most characters showing a general lack of visible interest in the opposite sex or romance.

The Membranes being a non-traditional family (single dad with no mom, later acquiring two more dads in the form of Foodio and Clembrane). Irken society not being structured around family units at all.

Satirical depictions of nuclear family units (Zim’s roboparents).

Transhumanism.

Kink/Fetish content including tentacles, bondage, domination, tongues, sadism, mind-control, body morphing, gore, food/eating, bodily fluids/fluids in general, Giger-esque designs, etc…

On the Neurodiverse side we have:

Zim’s food sensitivity.

Zim’s germophobia.

Zim’s dislike of being touched or hugged.

Zim seeming to suffer from sensory issues in general.

Zim getting overstimulated on the bus in Walk of Doom.

Zim and Dib infodumping.

Zim’s idiosyncratic speech mannerisms.

Characters having high intellect paired with poor social skills/low emotional intelligence.

Hyperfixations and special interests.

Zim’s struggles with multi-tasking and keeping his priorities straight.

GIR being easily distracted and unable to focus on anything that doesn’t immediately interest him.

Characters having poor volume control.

Characters having mood swings or trouble regulating their emotions.

Zim’s issues with memory.

Dib hyperfocusing to the point of neglecting hygiene.

Zim’s “problem with listening”.

And in the middle where they overlap there’s:

Zim and Dib being outcasts, misunderstood by everyone around them, and only able to connect with other misfits like Gaz, GIR, Keef, each other, and random hobos.

Zim masking his otherness and putting on performative displays of “normalcy” and having a well-founded fear of the consequences of being discovered.

Dib being open about his otherness and looking for respect and acceptance in the face of overwhelming ridicule and contempt.

Dib being pressured by his father to conform in order to please him.

Dib finding that the social benefits of conformity aren’t enough to outweigh the pain of not being his authentic self in Mopiness of Doom.

Dib’s experiences and perspectives being trivialized, dismissed and medicalized as indicators of mental illness.

Dib actually being mentally ill, but only as a result of not being accepted or supported for being different.

The eugenicist dystopia of the Irken Empire, where Zim is labeled “defective” and sentenced to death rather than treated for the mental health issues caused by the society that created him.

Daddy issues/familial rejection/non-acceptance.

Zim and Dib’s struggles with depression.

Zim and Dib’s need to prove themselves to gain validation and acceptance.

Zim and Dib being victims of bullying and in turn bullying others to feel a sense of power.

Dib’s self-loathing.

Zim’s default state being paranoia and anxiety.

Zim and Dib’s self-image issues.

And of course the one thing that binds us all: alternative fashion.

#invader zim #zadr #zadf #zim #dib #dib membrane #gaz #gaz membrane #tak #invader tak #professor membrane #keef #almighty tallest

[gatitties]

Slippery

─One Punch Man x child!fem!reader (platonic)

─Summary: a small part of the beginning of saitama's career as a hero and… you being there to annoy more than help

─Warnings: bad language for a child, typical violence in opm

so… this was going to be another of my fanfics on wattpad but I left it on hold, but I thought I would share here the little that I managed to write 👍🏻

"AHHHHH! A MONSTER!"

"Someone call a hero!"

"Evacuate the area immediately!"

You walked humming, swinging the worn wicker basket you held in your small hand, ignoring the terrified screams of the people, more focused on remembering the things you had to get to eat due to your poor memory and poor ability to pay attention to anything for more than two seconds.

"Bread, meat, milk and cookies."

You mumbled, counting on your fingers at the same time you said the food, you almost tripped over a crack in the asphalt, your attention was stolen when you saw how a small plant came out into the light from the broken cement, you shook your head concentrating on your errand.

"Bread, meat, milk…"

You frowned, putting on a sour expression at the missing ingredient, you continued muttering the now three ingredients to yourself, staring at the ground with such concentration that if you had lasers you would surely have destroyed the asphalt. So focused on remembering what you were missing while you looked down that you didn't realize you hit something hard, someone.

"Hey… aren't you lost, girl? There are monsters out there who like sweet girls like you."

You frowned, looking up to see some kind of monster with no eyes, a big toothy mouth on what seemed to be his face and he was only wearing pants, you made a disgusted face when you saw how he smiled, they always told you not to talk with strangers.

"Bread, meat…"

You began to sweat when the shadow of the monster you had ignored was projected over your smaller body, although your concern was that you had forgotten another of the ingredients again, you didn't even flinch when he lifted your arm a few minutes after you accepted that you would never remember what you had to buy again.

"Don't ignore someone when they talk to you, brat!"

"Shut up, shit, because of you I forgot the purchase."

"Huh!? You have a big mouth for a child, mmh, one of my favorites snacks…"

Your face contorted as you watched his large tongue move from side to side, starting to salivate, and you completely lost your nerve when his tongue grazed your cheek to taste you. You were going to kick him but before you could, the monster stopped, he turned away from you as if you had the plague.

"What the hell!? Bleagh- that's disgusting, you taste sour."

"Heh, die."

"What the hell are you- AAAAAHHHH-!?"

You covered your ears so as not to hear the screams of the idiot who had tried to eat you, if only he had looked closer he would have noticed your pointy ears as well as the small antennae that appeared when he caught you, antennae which you took care of hiding again. The guy's tongue started to melt as if he had licked pure acid, it wasn't really your fault, he was the one who activated your involuntary defense method.

You thought about leaving the area, since people had fled and the store you wanted to go to was just around the corner, but thinking about it again that could only mean one thing… free food! You were already struggling to get the money, either by stealing it or searching in some places where there might be money, you had been living on the streets for as long as you can remember, but it's not like you remember much of it either.

One day you simply woke up in a collapsed building, you were completely intact but covered in a slimy slime that avoided and withstood thousands of debris, how or what happened before that is a mystery to you, the only thing you know is that now you are what that people consider a monster, you don't remember being one before either, so you assumed that at some point you were human.

But you got used to it, that happened about two years ago, when you were eight years old, in that period of time you got used to wandering the streets of city Z, you found several shelters with some friendly monsters, but they always got into trouble and got caught by some hero, luckily you escaped from the social vigilantes because your appearance was still like that of a girl your age, not counting the antennae and pointed ears. For one thing, you learned to hide your antennae, and pointy ears weren't so uncommon in this world.

As for your strange viscosity, it was not a problem unless your body detected danger, if that were to happen ─like now─ your body would react immediately, covering you in that acidic and strangely hard slime when you tried to hit it, as if was a non-Newtonian fluid, you considered yourself a slippery person because of that, you always managed to escape from all the trouble you got into.

"Let's see… bread… bread and… oh! Pockys!"

Your mind completely forgetting the mental list you made once you entered the empty store, having the palate of a child, your mouth watered at the sight of all the junk food you promised you weren't going to eat, but who cares? You already forgot that promise you made with yourself.

You left a couple of hours later, taking the opportunity to eat and rest there, the night was falling when you walked with a bag of groceries, ─completely different from what you were looking for at first─ you swung your feet while humming, singing a random song in your mind until, for the second time that day you bumped into someone, this time you tripped over your feet, falling on your ass to the ground.

"Oh? What are you doing out so late? We agreed that you had a curfew." you puffed out your cheeks, hugging the shopping bag, looking away as if you were angry with the person in front of you, who turned out to be an acquaintance "Mmhh? Have you gone shopping alone? Don't tell me… have you stolen from my savings again?"

"Of course not! I have my own savings, baldy."

A vein bulged on Saitama's forehead, grabbing you by the collar of your shirt as he dragged you down the street like a scolded puppy, though your brow was furrowed by his accusation ─which could have been true another time─ you smiled inwardly.

Wandering around Z city wasn't as bad as you thought, at least not since a couple of months ago you met a man who had a bald spot brighter than your future, you became attached to him from the first day you saw him for several reasons. One, he didn't seem to care about your appearance as a monster, two, he's bald, you didn't need a justification for this reason, it was simply a plus point in your mind, three, they had a place you could stay the night.

Poor Saitama tried to get rid of you in various ways, but you seemed like a leech, clinging to him whenever you could, and deep down in his heart, he felt sorry for a child having to wander the cold streets without something to call 'home' or 'family', even though with each passing day he lost more ability to feel emotions, he was still human, and he thought that maybe some company wouldn't hurt, of course, he was grateful that you were completely independent of him most of it.

"And then I ran into a fucking ugly-as-a-bit monster-"

"Hey, hey! What did I tell you about using that language?!" Saitama choked on his ramen as he listened to you talk about what you had been doing while walking the streets, scolding you one of many times for using those types of expressions or words that someone your age shouldn't be using "Have you been watching that show again? I told you it was for older people."

"No I don't-"

Before you could continue speaking, you burped, making Saitama step back, looking at you with narrowed eyes, you clicked your tongue, pouting because you had been discovered, Saitama discovered that whenever you lie your stomach fills with gas and it usually comes out in the form of belch, there had to be something bad with being a monster.

You got up when you noticed how Saitama was stirring on his futon, looking amused at how he seemed to fight in his dreams, you decided to leave him to go back to sleep but your stomach growled, leaving sleep aside you went to the kitchen, grabbing a stool to reach the drawer where he told you that you could leave your food.

You returned to the living room to find that he had already woken up from his exciting dream, hitting the clock that went flying, shattering against the wall, voices outside the building made Saitama spring into action, jumping off the balcony looking excited as you picked up the remains of the poor watch.

"And there goes the fifth clock of the week… rest in peace."

You mumbled, closing the trash can, making a mental note to get another alarm clock at some point, if you don't forget, returning to see a Saitama completely devastated emotionally by another easily won battle, you patted him on the back to comfort him, he went to do his morning routine while you turned on the TV, hoping to find a good show.

After a while, you saw that Saitama seemed focused on watering the plants on the balcony, taking advantage of the fact that he seemed quite focused on his thoughts, you smiled maliciously, tuning into the program that you were forbidden to watch.

"What sons of bitches…"

"They've killed Kenny!"

You spent a while watching the program, even though you barely understood the jokes, or even the meaning of most of the words, but you were only doing it for educational purposes, knowledge is power and you needed to know more words to have a rigorous vocabulary, so even though you contradictorily only repeated the insults without knowing their true meaning or impact.

"Hey little bug…" you froze feeling the anger emanating from Saitama's body, you slowly turned your head with sweat running down your cheek, used to the man giving you the nickname 'little bug' because of your antennae "pass me the spray of mosquitoes, I don't know where I put it and I'm starting to get angry."

His teeth gnashed as he heard the sound of a mosquito fluttering around the living room. You ran for the spray, sighing in relief that he hadn't noticed the TV show which you quickly switched to the news, the anchor's voice covering the noise Saitama did when trying to kill the mosquito, although he was equally attentive to the television.

"Massive mosquito plague? Yeah of course."

You shrugged, you didn't care about the mosquitoes, after all you could eat them if they were too annoying, of course, unfortunately you partially lost your taste by turning into a monster, which bothered you a little but made it so you could eat any kind of thing, not only because you wouldn't feel the horrible taste, but because your gastric juices could melt anything.

You paid more attention to how there were more and more veins on Saitama's forehead when you saw that he couldn't catch the mosquito, you let out a snort of surprise when you saw how he was unable to kill the mosquito, you rolled your eyes, getting up from the couch.

"Watch and learn!" you patted the space right where that insect was, smiling proudly when you saw that the buzzing stopped, however just a second later your smile was erased "Huh?"

Once again the persistent hum echoed through the silent house, which became a battlefield to try to kill that small animal, you reached the point where you were not able to kill it either, getting on your nerves just like Saitama, so pissed off that you even went running down the street chasing it to kill it, although the only one who ran was Saitama, since you climbed on his shoulders while pointing and shouting at the fleeing mosquito.

However, while he concentrated on continuing to run after the insect, your eyes moved upwards, seeing a large black cloud, you grimaced in disgust as you heard the humming sound emanating from there.

"What is that cloud?"

The bald man stopped as he finally noticed the large black mass in the sky, your attention now directed towards what seemed to be a robot that was already there before, his expression was serious and analytical, he spoke with a bit of concern seeping into his words.

"You! hide somewhere safe, the mosquitoes are being controlled by someone, if she sees you I'm sure she will attack you."

"Oh Really…?"

Saitama sweated at the thought of the swarm, but before neither you nor he could react, the large mass of insects rushed towards the street where you were, however a great flash made you close your eyes, your body was covered in slime, although you slid off the man's shoulders because you had no hair to hold on to, ending up on the ground, admiring the robot's heroic pose, although your attention went elsewhere when you went to check if Saitama was okay, you stifled a laugh at the sight of his buttocks exposed.

"Hey, you saved me, you're great! how did you do that? Your laser is more effective against mosquitoes than the sprays I have."

The cyborg did not have time to say anything when he began to be attacked by the mosquito girl, almost destroying the poor boy until Saitama slapped the woman, killing her instantly, complaining about how the mosquitoes bothered him, leaving speechless to the blonde.

"W-Wait a minute!" you raised an eyebrow while Saitama turned his head to see what was left of the poor boy who continued talking "I'm a cyborg, I've been fighting in the name of justice! They call me Genos! Please tell me your name."

"Huh? I am Saitama why?"

"Let me be your disciple!"

"Ah… ok."

You put on a blank expression when you saw how the bald man left as if nothing had happened, stopping for a moment to see if you would follow him to return home, you sighed, shaking your head at his attitude, you knew that he had not heard anything of the cyborg's words, you already knew how was this going to end.

"Goodbye Genos, see you at home!"

You smiled at the boy, who seemed conflicted at the sight of you, his system detecting you as a monster but arguing with himself over the fact that you looked like someone harmless. He would have to look into it later, after all he wanted to eradicate evil and if you were, you couldn't be an exception.

You hid a smile as you saw how the young adult showed up at the apartment, Saitama in disbelief as he looked through the half-open door.

"Master."

"You really came… um, what's your name?"

"It's Genos, Master Saitama."

"Could you stop calling me master?"

"Teacher!"

"Don't call me that either…"

Saitama looked down at you, looking for silent help, you looked at him with a shrug, making him sigh completely exhausted, he opened the door letting the cyborg in, you smiled at his action, running towards the kitchen to grab three cups of tea, the two boys following you inside, Saitama pouring the tea into the cups while Genos analyzed his surroundings, glancing at you from time to time.

"Go home when you finish your tea, I don't want any disciples."

"Master, what kind of artificial parts do you use?"

"I don't use any."

"Huh? So what's that skin-colored armor on your head?"

You spit out the tea you were drinking, choking on laughter, coughing uncontrollably as Saitama patted your back with a blank stare.

"It's called skin…"

"But that means that you are bald even though you are young."

You spit out the drink again, choking for the second time, receiving more pats on the back a little more aggressively for Saitama's outburst at the mention of his baldness.

"So what if I'm bald?! What's your problem anyway?"

"My problem? Will you listen to me master?"

"Uh, no thanks."

Ignoring the lack of enthusiasm to hear his tortuous past, Genos gave a long sigh, beginning to tell his story, you tried to pay attention but halfway through the story your attention simply went elsewhere, ignoring his words until he was interrupted.

"You talk a lot! Summarize everything you have to say in a short sentence of about ten words maximum, you can't even get a child to pay attention to you."

Saitama pointed at you, completely oblivious to their chatter as you had grabbed some Legos to entertain yourself from Genos' boring story, the cyborg analyzed the situation, taking a few seconds with his eyes closed until he seemed to get the appropriate internal response.

"Master, summarizing this, what I want to say, please teach me how to become as strong as you."

"Genos."

"Yes, sir!"

"How old are you?"

"Nineteen, sir."

"You're young… I'm sure you'll surpass me easily."

"Really?"

"I am twenty-five but I started training at twenty-two in the summer three years ago, I have no problem teaching you… but it will be hard, are you ready for this?"

"Yes, sir!"

You blinked in confusion as you saw Genos moving quickly, crouching in the hallway of the small house as he muttered that he detected something approaching at high speed, you thought he was simply having a short circuit or something and continued building your Lego castle, unfortunately a monster shaped of mantis broke the ceiling, causing the pieces of your castle to scatter throughout the room, your antennae came to light due to your anger.

"My name is-"

You smiled as you watched Saitama destroy that monster before it could even introduce itself as some kind of villain.

"Pay my roof!"

"And rebuild my castle!"

You joined the violence by kicking the remains of the mantis corpse, angry at the intrusion that had destroyed your mood, you were prepared to spit acid at whoever had dared to destroy your work of art made of plastic pieces joined together.

"There are more of them outside."

Genos warned, they both left faster than you and when you arrived Saitama had already done all the work, kicking the butt of what seemed to be some frog and slug monsters, you sighed thinking that everything was solved, however something caught Saitama and buried him leaving only his head outside the ground.

"Ma-Master!"

"This feels weird… it's like I'm a plant growing in concrete or something."

You laughed at his comparison, ignoring the worried cyborg you pretended to water the bald man with an imaginary watering can, he smiled vaguely at you, the moment of tranquility was short-lived when a gorilla covered in armor appeared on the scene, without realizing it you were also buried on the ground when you were distracted watching the fight between Genos and the robot gorilla.

"Oh, a kitten."

You muttered carelessly as you saw how another Lion-shaped monster threatened Saitama with ripping his eyes out of their sockets, you also watched as a mole came out of the ground, probably the culprit for both of you being with your body underground. You enjoyed the strange sensation while the other two fought, almost falling asleep because of how comfortable it was, unfortunately Saitama and Genos finished off the enemies too quickly.

"Hey, can you get out of there alone? We are going to resolve some issues with a weird scientist."

"Yes, don't worry, can I go with you?"

The two looked at each other and shrugged, Genos did a quick analysis of your constants and abilities now that he could see your true form and knew that you would have no problem defending yourself, Saitama already knew that you were completely self-sufficient on your own. You took their indifference as an affirmation and covered your body in slime so you could better get out of the place where you were buried so you could go to that scientist's base.

After a brief interrogation of the robot gorilla, a few threats here and there to summarize the backstory of this whole situation, the boys got the exact location of that scientist called Doctor Genus. You climbed onto Genos' shoulders because at least you could hold on to his hair if you fell, it didn't take you long to reach that base of operations in the middle of the forest, although the cyborg destroyed the entire building as soon as he arrived.

"Dude, what are you doing so suddenly?"

"I found this most efficient way to eliminate them in one fell swoop."

"Yeah, well, but at least you could have given them the opportunity to try something…"

You nodded at Saitama's words, also because you felt like kicking someone's ass for destroying your Lego castle. You found a trapdoor in the floor that led to some underground tunnels and you entered without thinking twice. Your antennas began to move restlessly and the lights in the hallway began to go out while heavy, fast footsteps were heard getting closer. When you focused your sight, you saw a large beetle? With a guy in his hand, he was advancing towards you at full speed, although both you and Genos were pushed aside with a big slap.

"How rude, oh is this your right leg or your left?"

You whined even though your slime kept you from getting hurt, you were trying to pull the cyborg out of the wall but you accidentally ripped off his leg by pulling on it, his joints were twisted at painful angles if he were human, you put everything back together in place and you immediately went to the room where Saitama and the beetle were going to fight, but you couldn't care less, you knew what was going to happen so you decided to take a walk around the huge basement.

You didn't find anything really entertaining, at least not something that managed to hold your attention for more than a minute, except for a simple lava lamp that you found in a kind of bedroom, you stopped to look at the different experiments briefly and simply went back and hoping that they had ended the fight once and for all, you were beginning to feel tired and wanted to sleep if possible in a comfortable place.

"What the hell…?"

You muttered with a blank expression as you saw Genos' afro hair and how Saitama was being beaten, although it didn't take long for him to deliver his famous punch and destroy the monster into little pieces, while he screamed in frustration.

"Today is the special discount day!"

Of course, now you understand why the man's frustration, he couldn't miss a day of sales in the supermarkets, you didn't complain about the urgency when you left, leaving the doctor completely emotionally destroyed by the destruction of his most lethal creation, you walked towards Genos jumping with joy at coming home to take a nap, he looked at you in silence, crouching down since he knew you would ask him again if he could carry you on his shoulders. In this little time together he convinced himself that you wouldn't be a threat, despite being a monster, you had no evil in you, at least, not towards innocent people.

#omp #one punch man #one punch man x reader #sfw #platonic reader #fem reader #reader insert #child reader #opm x reader #one punch man x fem reader #opm x child reader #one punch man x child reader #opm x platonic reader #one punch man x platonic reader #monster!reader #opm x monster!reader #opm x monster!child reader

[aliasrocket]

Rocketober day 1 : ‘friends’

title : stars.

hey guys! Starting this off just to say I’m still on break, my exams have barely started, I just wanted to do a quickie for the first prompt for Rocketober since I have brought it up once in a poll before. Sadly, I’m not sure if I’m able to do the rest of the prompts but I’ll try to do the ones I really wanna do. Take care everyone!

here’s the rocketober list if you’d also like to participate.

Just like the op in the link, I’m accepting requests now for Rocketober prompts, please be sure to specify which prompt you’re putting in a request for.

“Guys, this is my friend.”

Nebula spills your name and points with a glass-filled hand, champagne sloshing inside when her finger swings to point to you.

Rocket could have sworn that she had stepped aside to let the fluorescent lights beam down on just you.

You, with that dainty little wave but a red dress that said otherwise, hem ending halfway up your thigh and a black purse hanging from your shoulder. Was that even a purse?

The moment rotated, just as time does, and the light had swung around to find another muse. Not that Rocket was complaining, because you looked even better in star-stewn hues, some slivers of you hidden in the dark for him to discover again.

If you weren’t Nebula’s friend.

It was a hypothetical.

Hands stretched out from behind him, soon coming around to greet you more personally—after all, they weren’t going to be here for long. Mantis and Quill have each come back from their lifelong trips to catch up with the ol’ gang. Like things changed.

Rocket serves another glance and you were already looking back at him, a star in your eyes each. He came forward with an averted gaze and offered his hand.

“Rocket,” he said, not sure if it had been over the music but when you bent down to let him hear the name he’ll never forget, you took it and let him decide the shake’s strength.

His second round of looking away had been when there was a slight ripple in your exposed cleavage—nothing screams pervert like a speechless rat.

“Rocket,” you repeated, and Rocket took a step back. “That’s a pretty name.”

Yeah, comin’ from pretty lips. The grinding in his teeth almost matched the bass of the party music.

He gets daggers in the form of a look from Nebula, and if you hadn’t been standing right in front of him he would have rolled his eyes.

“Thanks.”

Your chest flinched and you blinked, only for a split second—and because Rocket’s the master of looking away, of drawing back, of letting the pieces fall where they may, he’s stuck looking at your heels and on the floor hoping you don’t hear the cracking noises.

And you cracked just then, too.

Well, no, it doesn’t matter. If you did, didn’t—you were Nebula’s friend. Everyone had already drifted back to their shared table, and it’s another piece of reality that had its hands roaming his throat; you were off bounds.

“Rocket, are you okay?” Mantis asked, tilting her head as her forehead crinkled in that frown he remembered so well even after time made its rounds.

“Yeah, yeah.” The answer cut into whatever had been lying at the tail end of that question. Everyone lowered their heads and held the base of their drinks, not speaking and letting the music beat against their backs.

A light flashes, and a warmth engulfed his hand before he could swipe it to his chest.

Mantis’ antennae were lowered, but the glass in her eyes reflected its light clearly. Her hand was right where Rocket’s had been.

“Fucking—Mantis! We talked about this—you know what? I don’t even have the energy,” Rocket spat. “I’m outta’ here.”

“Wait!” Mantis grabbed Rocket’s shoulder.

“What’s going on?” Quill asked, head emerging from his drink.

Mantis’ head pivoted back to Rocket’s after Peter’s question, lips pursed as the inner corner of her brows arch upwards.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna tell Quill, tell me!” Drax whispered, or made a sad attempt at doing so, but over the music he was yelling.

Quill scowled. “Dude, not fair! I asked first, I get dibs!”

“That’s not how this works at all.” Drax shook his head.

“It so is!” Quill’s head snapped back around the other way. “Mantis, Rocket, what the fuck is going on?”

A darkness loomed over Rocket then stretched its way across the table to retrieve a tissue from the very end.

His head rocked forward when some sort of ball hit him, though the impact was almost like a stroke in his fur.

“Oh, sorry.”

This voice was nothing like poets would describe them to be; but the feeling, the rush and creaking in Rocket’s alloyed ribs—it felt all the more numbing yet painfully acute.

He looked up by instinct.

The first thing he noticed was that your jaw was so defined from this angle, not quite underneath you but so close he felt your warmth over him like a hood.

The second thing he noticed was that what had hit him was not a ball at all. Not a ball at all. Your breast rubbed up against the back of his head for another half second before you finally pulled away to wipe your hands with the tissue you acquired from across the table. Rocket’s ears rung from both the music that now sounded like screeching metal and the clenching in his chest.

“Sorry, I um, spilled some wine on my hands,” you explained as you crumpled the tissue to compress it in your fist. “Which one of you is the pilot?”

“Me.”

Quill and Rocket scowled at the sounds of both their voices in unison.

You laughed. You laughed and it sounded like a laugh you’d hear on Terran TV, something of a ribbon dancing in what felt like stale air. Yeah, Rocket was going to bottle that ribbon into memory like the rest of the things he’d already learned about you, and it wasn’t much.

“Sorry, maybe I should have specified. I need something of mine fixed,” you explained a second time, and you unclasped the lid of your purse to pull out a long metal rod known to be a phone from Terran electronic stores.

Another beat against the ribs and Rocket felt a lung drop. His heart punched it right out of the park.

“I’ve been pressing the side to project the screen but it doesn’t seem to be working.” You showed the entire table the power button as your finger sank into it but came up with no response on the phone’s end.

“I think one of you pilots are engineers, right?”

Quill grinned. He gave a sharp push at Rocket’s shoulder. “This one, he’s your guy.”

He flashed another scowl at Quill.

“I get it, it’s really stupid, I’m sorry to have bothered—”

“Nah, let me take a look,” Rocket insisted, gesturing for you to come closer.

“I was hoping I could get another drink while you looked at it. Can I get you something?”

One would think Rocket would have made eye contact with you before this point, but no—this was the first time since first meeting you ten seconds ago. Those eyes, widened and round, had stars crossing its skies and at this point Rocket thought he was dreaming. There was no way someone could be this fuckin’ perfect.

The ringing in his ear had only increased tenfold; now, it sounded like a flatline, a perfect audial representation of the current situation.

“I’ll walk with you.”

Without sparing his friends another look, he got off the stool and walked around the edge of the cheering room to the bar, where you had handed him your phone with a sort of languid quality to it; was it possible for this kind of thing to be graceful? The way your shoulder lifts slightly when you look down at him, curled hair fluffing up against your cheek as you handed over the tech. He’s looking up, jaw hanging—but now, he has a reason to keep his eyes on you.

He didn’t take your phone. “You wanted to talk to me?”

“About the phone.” You gestured to the phone again, raising a brow at him as some hair fell over one of your eyes from how much she had been looking down. The eye that remained … oh, fuck.

At half-mast, hypnotic. Your features framed a dream for Rocket; someone so damn gorgeous, he knows he’d thought you up at least a hundred times before. Someone of this beauty, of this cherry lip gloss, this fuckin’ dress.

Rocket’s hand slid up the rod to the hilt, both yours and his gaze in a chain neither of you broke before he pressed a button, and a blue screen emitted from the side of the rod.

“I knew it wasn’t broken,” Rocket said, lips parted as his eyes flickered to the phone then back at your star speckled eyes. Your eyes were widened again.

He wasn’t quite sure what he liked better; the almost pleading nature of your wide-eyed gaze, or the allure of your lowered lids reeling him in by the neck like a leash.

“So, the only reason you faked a broken phone is to talk to me.”

Your drink arrived, and you thanked the bartender curtly before taking a sip.

“I do recall asking for an engineer,” you said, your eyes the only part of you facing him, “instead of a detective.”

Oh, the way Rocket fumbled with the seat next to you, there was no coming back from this, because he’d rather trip and fall off than tear his eyes away from your complexion—collection of little shiny trinkets he stole and swiped from far galaxies and arranged so delicately to form you.

Maybe that’s why you felt ethereal. You were something out of a goddamn movie. A fairytale. Your hair looked like it was floating in water. Your lip had a permanent glint to it, always moving back and forth depending on the angle at which light had danced on your body.

“Hey, I’m still your guy.”

It felt irrevocably wrong to say that. He wished he could take it back. But if wishes are made to stars, then he knows if he’d done that, you’d hear him. And he’s had enough of accidentally sending the wrong message tonight.

You cocked a brow at him, finally turning your head over. Your shoulders were shrugged to keep your elbows propped on the table, hands loosely busy with your new glass of wine.

“You’re my guy?” You smirked, teeth peeking through glassy lips.

A lump accumulated in Rocket’s throat, and it happened in a split second—swallowing that lump was swallowing a loose bolt in one of his bombs.

“Yeah, what d’ya need?” Rocket tilted his head, leaning into the bar to get a better view of her when you returned to her already emptied glass.

You raised a flimsy hand, and the bartender nodded from across the isle as he poured a drink for another patron.

“I think I should be asking you that,” your smug grin thawed into a smile as you lowered your head. Your eyes pulled up because of this—it cut that doe-eyed look straight into Rocket, but he simply readjusted his posture on the bar in a sad attempt to cover up his dry lips, an empty tongue, and his parched throat.

“You wanted to tell me something when I complimented you,” you speculated aloud. “Am I warm?”

“Smoking hot, actually—” and Rocket’s eyes almost popped right out of his skull. “Uh, both in your question and—”

You laughed again, shoulders shaking as you threw your head back. Those shiny curls slid off from your shoulder and down your back to join the rest of your styled hair.

“Don’t be so uptight!” You nudged him with your hand, and you both turn to the bartender who finally came around.

“Hi, I’d like another.”

“I’ll start a tab, her refill’s on me,” Rocket chimed in, arm stretched towards the bartender who failed to hold back a crease in his brow when he turned away from you to grimace at Rocket. “And I’ll have one for myself too.”

Your jaw dropped for the first time that night, only slightly, and even then you still looked like an actress. “You didn’t have to.”

“I want to,” Rocket insisted.

“You won’t like wine. You’re the type to enjoy beer.” You finally place the wine glass down. You folded your arms on the table, but kept your head in his direction.

“Never really liked Terran liquor in general.” Rocket shrugged before spinning his stool around to expose himself entirely to you. He would, if that was what you demanded.

“But.” He crossed his arms over his chest, feeling just a hair, a follicle too exposed, down to the very pore of his skin, he could feel each chill the situation brought. “You make it look like steak after years of prison food.”

Your smile caved deeper into your cheeks, roses sprinkled across them.

“So, what was it you wanted to say?”

Now you had rotated your stool to face him, one arm still on the table as you rested your face on your palm.

“Earlier? With Nebs?”

“Mhmm.” You nodded.

Fuck, fuckity flark. He couldn’t even recall the last time he used flark. That goddamn hum, the feigned innocence it implied—was it wrong to think about how much of a brat you probably were in bed?

Fuck. Too creepy.

But with the way your arm was positioned, your cleavage had just been a little below eye level and boy did he avoid eye contact a lot.

“I was gonna say you had a prettier face,” Rocket admitted. It almost sounded like a grunt, and he wasn’t surprised because his tongue tugged his gut all the way up to his throat to confess this.

“Is that so?”

Your tone felt carried, longer than it was meant to be. You grinned. Satisfaction painted you pink in the navy blue tints of the party. And he couldn’t hate it. He couldn’t even look away from it. The party? That god-awful music? Could be happening in a completely separate room for all he was aware of. You wiped him clean of everything else but you.

Before he even got to realize he’d been staring directly at your cleavage again, you rubbed a soft hand under his chin and lifted it.

His eyes met yours, and he hung off a cliff you were looking off of.

“Speechless, huh?”

“I—you—”

“Use your words, big guy.”

Rocket gritted his teeth before nearly barking it out. “Can’t blame me for how fuckin’ sexy you are.”

“Looks aren’t everything.”

“I’m the last guy you needa’ be tellin’ that to,” Rocket chuffed, a corner of his lips tugging up as he regained some of his spine. Oh, has he been slouching this whole time? “I know you know what you’re doin’, princess.”

“Princess?” You cocked a brow down at him again, gaze floating across the ceiling.

“I like it.”

Rocket smirked.

Oh yes, the good kind of warmth returned to him—he was settling in his seat the way he hoped he would, his eyes sitting better in the glimmer of your own.

“Yeah. You’re the type to like that sorta’ thing.”

Your brows furrowed. “How do you know what my type is?”

“Same way you know that I’m the kind to hate wine.”

A beat passed before you returned his gaze. “Just for the record, physically … I find you to be very a—

‘What’s going on here?”

You both turned to the same fuming expression, arms crossed as black crystal balls for eyes burning holes through Rocket’s fur.

“Rocket treated me to a drink,” you said, showing Nebula your glass.

“She’s a friend!” Nebula gritted through a clenched jaw when she swung her head around to face Rocket.

“I’m having a really good time, Nebby.”

And that had been the first time that night Rocket had seen the mask catch fire in the disco light. Some of that actress charm replaced with utmost honesty. Or, maybe it was another accessory Rocket had observed, one of something much more poisonous than anything he’d hoped you possessed.

Nebula shook her head. “You’re lucky I can tell whether you’re lying or not.”

“Well, yeah, and you kinda ruined something we were having,” you admitted further, and Rocket grinned, unable to withhold his chuckles.

“What is it?” Nebula grumbled, turning right back to Rocket.

“Nah, nothin’.”

“Spit it out!”

Rocket’s eyes crossed yours multiple times that night. And just about all of those times he wished he hadn’t crashed and burned right in front you to pick him apart and laugh at his … naviety? Hopes and dreams? His fantasies?

Fantasies aren’t real, yet there you were—smiling right back at him at the look he gave you, lowered head and a smirk as a vice.

“I just know we’re gonna get along plenty,” Rocket rasped in low tones.

“Yeah?”

“Oh, fuck me—get a room you two! And just so you know, I don’t approve of this! At all!”

And so began a long, endless, fateful effervescent string of kisses, bites, fucks and talks waving its filth and bliss in its galaxy-stippled wake.

#rocket raccoon #guardians of the galaxy #gotg #rocket gotg #gotg vol 3 #rocket raccoon x you #gotg fanfiction #rocket raccoon x reader #rocket raccoon fanfiction #rocket raccoon fanfic #gotg rocket #gotg3 #gotg v3 #gotg v2

[coolskeleton59]

[March decisively in a circle around the room at a good pace for our Malpal to follow, not actually going anywhere. And avoid standing beneath the catwalk!!]

Yes follow us to fossils and your brother! We're going to go get them both! And steak! Come on! [LIE]

[* The MALPRACTITIONER seems perfectly content to follow you around like this.]

[* The LEAD ENGINEER scowls down at SERIF, his antennae twitching in anger.]

"GRRGGH... YOU'RE... GOING...!"

[* The LEAD ENGINEER stomps on SERIF's hand that's grasping the edge of the catwalk, causing him to lose his grip. He catches himself on the support beam.]

"DOWN...! OHOO HOO HOO!"

[* The LEAD ENGINEER gloats aloud, folding his arms with confidence.]

[* . . . ]

[* SERIF stares at the LEAD ENGINEER. The LEAD ENGINEER stares back? sweating.]

"WHY... WHY ARE YOU LOOKING AT ME LIKE THAT. DON'T DO THAT. WHAT- HEY, WHAT ARE YOU-"

[* SERIF swings himself up onto the catwalk and pins the LEAD ENGINEER to the ground with a foot, bringing both hands down onto his face like some kind of evil, reverse volleyball hit. The impact sounds nasty.]

[* Instead of continuing the beating, SERIF dismounts and goes back to trying to melt the catwalk supports. That seemed to be a warning.]

#prch #mailbox #interlude #|| #utmv #undertale au

[livelaughlovekny]

Hi!! I'm wondering if you can do a scenario with muichiro where both the reader and him are fighting demons together and the reader has an impulsive thought on what demons tasted like so they bit onto a demons arm and that didn't really go well... (stomach dieded) the rest is up to you!!

a/n: HAHA I LOVE YOUR REQUEST!! I tried my best but I'm really bad at this oml

  You swing your sword up, managing to cut the demon’s arm slightly. This demon was excellent at dodging. It laughed at your irritated expression, “Ha! What kind of pathetic demon slayer are you? Even your partner doesn’t want to help you!” Remembering you did have a partner, you turned around and glared at him. Muichirou stared back at you. “I said this was training, I’m not going to interfere.” Gritting your teeth, you faced the demon with renewed motivation. It smirks and jumps onto a tree.

  It wants to run? Fine, you’ll chase it then. Using the surrounding trees as a boost, you managed to land on a nearby branch. Jumping from tree to tree, the demon taunted you as you chased it. Frustrated, you leapt forward and managed to cut off its leg this time. In pain and shocked, the demon dropped to the ground. You smirked. Landing gracefully, you cut off its head. “Guess I get the last laugh.”

  You hummed to yourself and walked towards Muichirou with a smile on your face, blatantly ignoring the disintegrating demon that was screaming profanities at you. “His screaming has attracted demons, you took too long.”

  Sighing heavily, you complained, “It’s not my fault that that thing was so fast and agile.” Ignoring your words, Muichirou pointed his sword at some bushes. “There’s more demons there for you to train with.” Two demons jumped out and three more from other directions, all looking eagerly at you and Muichirou.

  “A Hashira! What luck! I’ll surely be an Upper Moon if I ate that ugly thing!” A demon with fangs and antennas exclaimed. Upon hearing his words, the other demons all looked past you and at Muichirou. As if on cue, all five lunged at Muichirou. Unfortunately for you, you were right in front of him. Dodging all five demons, you swung your word at them, managing to slash three faces. 

  “Argh! You brat!” One screamed and clutched at their face while trying to cut you with their claws, which you managed to doge. Cutting off its hand, you dashed forward and proceeded to cut off its head. Turning around, you see that the four other demons had already been decapitated by Muichirou. Unsure, whether or not to be disappointed at the loss to prove yourself, you sheathed your sword and walked towards Muichirou.

  You walked past one of the demons Muichirou killed, it was the one who recognised him as a Hashira. Both of its arms were cut off. It was as if your mind did not process anything. You bent down and picked up one of its arms. It was slowly disintegrating already. “What are you do-”

  You bit into it and swallowed a small piece of its arm. And regretted it almost instantly. You doubled over and wrapped your arms around your stomach groaning. Taking long strides towards you, Muichirou was by your side immediately. “What on earth were you thinking?” Unable to respond, you hissed in pain, trying to push away and ignore the burning feeling in your stomach. Taking in sharp breaths, you tried to regulate your breathing as a way to distract yourself from the pain. You heard Muichirou sigh before all turned black.

  Jerking forward, you sat up in a bed. Looking around, you realise you were no longer in the forest but in the Butterfly Estate. The feeling as if your stomach was going to be the death of you subsided, all that’s left was a slight achy feeling. You heard footsteps and looked up, it was Shinobu. “Oh my, you’ve woken up. Tokito-kun, your Tsukugo is awake!” Smiling at you, she instructs you to be more careful next time and informs you on the medication you should take in case you’re in pain again.

  Muichirou enters the room right after Shinobu leaves. He looks at you up and down, studying your expression and how you look and states, “You look better.” You grin at him. “Of course! People always look better once they recover from nearly dying!” Your joke only managed to receive an unimpressed look. “That was incredibly reckless and stupid of you. What if you turned into a demon or died?”

  “So mean, I just woke up and you insult me.” You pause for a moment before continuing, “Though thank you for saving me.” No response. “In case you were wondering, demons taste awful, I don’t recommend it.” He frowned slightly. “Just take your medicine, I won’t be able to remember for you. Not that I should since this is clearly something you should remember. Though you did just eat demon flesh so who knows?”

  Sometimes, you wonder if he even cared for you, then he starts saving you and expressing concern ,in his own blunt way, over your clear lack of self-preservation and poor taste in jokes.

a/n: wahh im so sorry if this wasnt what you wanted/expected, i genuinely have no idea how to write fight scenes and actually everything

#demonslayer #kny #kny fanfic #kny x reader #muichiro fluff #muichiro x y/n #muichiro x reader #kny muichiro #demon slayer muichiro

[rath00ker]

How I would fight all the dorm leaders and win (I’m completely delusional)

Riddle, grab him by those heart shaped antenna lookin things then swing him around like a helicopter

Leona, disarm him by kissing him on the mouth

Azul, I could beat this punk ass bitch into the dirt. Hit him WITH his glasses

Kalim, punch him in the gut and sit on his back til he says uncle

Vil, sneeze on him

Idia, kick him in the knee and jump on his back while he’s on the ground

Malleus, swing him around by his horns

#twisted wonderland #azul ashengrotto #kalim al asim #vil schoenheit #riddle rosehearts #leona kingscholar #idia shroud #malleus draconia #twst azul #twst vil #twst idia #twst leona #twst riddle #twst wonderland

[captain-lessship]

His “Sidekick In The Chair” No Longer Pt. 3

A/n: I rushed to get this little part out. Pt 4 will be a fight scene.

Your mother woke you up, knocking on your door, “Sweetie! Pavitr is here!”

You and Toxin groaned as you rolled over, eye squinting at the wall that shined in the morning sun. 

The door then flung open, it was Pav. “Let’s go! Come on! Why are you still in bed?” 

He yapped at you like a chihuahua until you had your teeth brushed, fresh clothes and a spot of breakfast and tea.

He then told you what the morning would consist of and you were not exactly excited.

Candy bar wrappers littered the top of the roof as you laid, breathing heavily to the side. You had been working on mastering using Toxins abilities for hero work all day and you were ready to call it a day but Pavitr wasn’t.

“Come on! One more lap!” Pav said, blowing a whistle he bought for the occasion. He had been making you do laps, pushups, pull ups and burpees. He had turned into a very cheery drill sergeant.

Toxin swallowed the fifth bar of dark chocolate and almonds before speaking to you, “Is it too late to eat him?”

“It wouldn’t do you any good, He has no brains.” 

Toxin grumbled at your comment, you raised up and looked at Pav, annoyance  prevalent on your face. “Blow that whistle one more time.” 

And he did.

You opened your mouth to say something but before you did, a red streak flashed across your vision and you watched as a string of crimson darted towards Pav. Instinctively, you grabbed onto it and pulled it up, watched in horror as is plunged into the television antenna above Pav. 

He looked at you. You expected anger due to the fact it could have wounded him but he had this huge grin on his face like a kid in a candy shop.

“That was so cool!” He shouted, running up to you, “I didn’t know you could do that!” 

You had been hard at work for the past few days. You had made a sort of under suit and helmet that you could use to listen in on the communication line, which was shared with Pav. You also updated his suit to make it more protective.

He, of course, was looming over your shoulder as you showed him what exactly you were doing to his beloved suit.

“Are you sure you should be cutting that?” 

“Yes,” you sighed, “I know what I am doing.” 

On the other shoulder was another critic, “I don’t want to have to hear his voice in my ear constantly.” Toxin hissed out.

“Hey!”

“Shush!” You spun around, listening intently. Sirens.

Pav’s spidey sense was catching up on what ever was making the noise, “Is the suit wearable?”

You quickly sewed the arm shut and tossed it to him. You pulled on your own suit and placed the helmet. “One, Two…” Toxin surrounded you, leaving only the eyes thin enough for you to look through, “Check?”

“Check, check!” Pav said, giving a thumbs up. “You ready for your first fight?” He said as he opened your window but before you could answer, he threw himself out of it. 

“You ready, Toxi?” 

“Yes and I get a nickname?” 

“Yeah?”

“That is really sweet, I never thought-“

“I love you guys but come on,” Pavitr’s voice rang in, “It’s go time!”

You smiled, “We’ll talk later Toxi.” you jumped out the window and felt as a rope extended from your hands, you were web swinging.

You moved and weaved around the buildings, letting Toxin go on autopilot, following Pav’s directions.

You looked down at the city, mind drifting to when Pav once took you web swinging. He pretended to drop you and that put a end to that but you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face as you think about it.

As you swung into the vicinity of Pav, you saw it: Electricity

Light swelled and then popped due to the voltage. Electricity seemed to flow through the air and in the middle was a man who was glowing blue and rippling with strips of purple. You and Pav made it on top of a building.

“Any ideas?” He asked. 

“Well, obviously water is out of the question.”

“If we get to close,” he added, “we will burn to a crisp. Or at the very least look like we licked wall outlets.”

“What’re options?” You asked, “No close range not water.” 

Pav looked at you, “Is he a conductor?”

“What?” 

“Does he absorb electricity?”

“I know what a conductor is, idiot. I am just wondering if you are trying to fry me from the inside out.”

Toxin spoke up. “I am. It doesn’t hurt me. It is not fun though.”

“I think we should try talking to them first.” You said.

“What?” Pav and Toxin said in unison.

“No one goes on a rampage like this for fun. They must want something or need help themselves.” You said, walking to the edge of the building.

“But what if they are just a bad person?” Pav said, walking right behind you.

You smiled to yourself, “Then you wouldn’t have followed me.” 

#fanfic writing #fanfic #spiderman #across the spiderverse #pav spider man #pavitr prabhakar #pavitr prabhakar x reader #toxin symbiote #reader fic #gender neutral reader #part 3 #marvel #marvel comics #symbiote #reader has a symbiote #superhero

[guardian-rocket]

@papetoonfox

Fox’s face lit up at the other’s response. He knew what Rocket meant amongst that sarcastic tone. “I miss you to, Rocket.” His tone sincere as he stared at the raccoon through his display. The mercenary rested his arms on his desk, giving a slight nod at Rocket’s response. “You can bet on it. I’ll keep you posted on our ETA and make sure that our mission schedules align properly.”

Fox was indeed looking forward to another trip to Xandar, even if it was for a few nights. To him, he had something to look forward to after the exhausting trip. He was certain the rest of his team too, was looking forward to seeing Rocket’s once again.

“I would say? I’m glad I was able to help you with the move tho! Did you guys manage to salvage anything from the Eclector ship?” Fox questioned curiously, for he wasn’t technically present when Rocket and his team parted ways entirely from their larger ship. “It’s nothing you can’t fix, Rocket. If anyone can whip it into shape, it’s you.” Fox added.

“We’re planning on doing some major upgrades to the Great Fox at some point. Slippy thinks we need an engine overhaul at some point.” Fox felt the need to throw it out there. Falco and Slippy had mentioned to him about tracking down some valuable tech on Venom, tho it was up in the air at the moment.

“I am glad Quill is doing alright. Sorry about the whole bathroom issues. Perhaps you need a plumber aboard the ship?” Fox chuckled lightly heartedly. “-Things are good, everyone’s a little timid and exhausted, but we’re holding up strong.”

"Huh?" Rocket said immediately following Fox's sly response, he looked a bit bashful which probably said loads more than what he was willing to say over any recording when people around the ship were within earshot. "I mean, sure, yeah you got me, but-- Hey GROOT, get in here, got Fox on the line!" Rocket yelled out, and there was a sudden sound of pitter-pattering little wooden stompers making their way to Rocket's new quarters of the new ship.

As the sound of Groot could be heard faintly, growing louder, Rocket answered Fox's question.

"Oh sure, we're keeping the Eclector in Nova's storage for now... but we hawked off a bunch of them stolen goods I told ya about. Not much good it was gonna do us to keep a bunch of illegally procured goods. It at least made it easy to stock up on rations, fuel and firepower."

Groot entered the room, looking around for Rocket in the background a moment before he realized he was at the desk. He could be seen from the video chat, and used his vines to swing over from Rocket's bed to the desk to see what was going on.

"I am Groot~!" Groot said in a sing-song tone, with a wave at the screen. Fox hadn't yet learned to understand anything Groot was saying but it seemed Rocket wasn't *entirely* lying saying that Groot missed him.

"Engine overhaul huh? Sounds like that'll cost a lot, can't say I envy you," he said, and as he was talking, little Groot pulled out a fairly large sized bright green bug from within the little crown of his head. It looked some sort of weevil, with long antennae and big black eyes.

"I am GrooOOoot!" he said, showing it off at the camera.

He was pointing it right at the screen at Fox, showing him his most recent 'catch' but as soon as Rocket saw him pull out a giant bug Rocket fell right out of his chair.

"GROOT what the flark is THAT?"

"I am groot!"

"Oh the hell it is! Ain't no way I'm lettin' you keep a freakin' bug as a pet! Get rid of it!"

"I am GROOT!" Groot replied, sounding sassier to Rocket, if his twig-like fingers weren't curled around the thorax of the insect they might had been on his hips.

"I said NO." Rocket's voice was stern, but he was keeping his distance from Groot's little friend.

"I am Groot!!"

"What do you mean Quill said you could? Since when is he in charge of anything? Go stick it in the airlock and we can let it go once we land. Get it outta here," Rocket lectured as he crawled back into his chair.

Groot hopped off the desk and left, likely not doing as he was told but instead taking the bug to his own room where he kept a terrarium.

"Disgusting," Rocket muttered under his breath before slumping in his chair.

"Sorry about that, Groot's been on this whole... pet kick lately. Every planet we land on he's trying to bring something new into the ship."

#return fire! {rp reply} #papetoonfox

[writerpetals]

a place to call home | ❤️

; optional male lead fluff |  ☁️

w: werewolf!au, mention of abusive past

You feel as if your legs will give out any second. Tired, cold, starving with every inch of your body shaking as you keep your pace while sprinting through the woods. You can’t stop now that you’ve finally gotten away from them, and you can’t look back in case the fear that kept you with them for so long takes hold, urging you to return after you gathered up all of your strength to run.

You keep running, legs shaking, tired, cold, head spinning and bare feet aching as you whip past the trees surrounding you, too exhausted to shift into wolf form, though it would be a hell of a lot faster. It would get you farther from them, you know, but you keep running, unable to shift… shaking, tired, cold.

The blur of the white house comes into your view just past the line of trees ahead. You blink a few times, finally slowing down after what feels like miles of running, finally being able to take a deep breath for a moment, and finally being able to look behind you.

It’s too dark to see, but you know they’re out there, sniffing around for your scent, hoping to catch your trail. You continue running closer to the house because it’s the only one for miles. You quiver with your aching feet as a chill surges down your spine, wishing you could shift and carry on, but the light blue porch steps and the door with the chipped, red paint are your only salvation. You knock with desperation, heart drumming in your ears so loud you can’t even hear the sound of your knuckles tapping the old wood, but the sting in your fist assures you that you beat against the door at least three times.

Your knees hit the wooden planks, a burn ripping through your thighs as you try to balance yourself up right, but it’s no use. The door swings open, eyes fluttering as the view of white socks in front of you begins to blur. A voice calls for you, cursing a few times once they realize the state you’re in, but you can’t find the strength to reply. You’re too tired, too cold, starving and broken and beaten… and you’re too scared to keep running.

Your eyes close as a hand grips your arm, black filling your vision before your mind spins and your body finally gives out, collapsing.

In your dreams you see the one that hurt you. The leader of your pack in all of his strength, his power, and his aggression, forcing young wolves like you to do as he pleased. You had barely shifted for the first time before you were ordered to be wed to an older wolf in your pack, like most females were. You didn’t even consider yourself an adult, yet you were expected to give yourself to someone you barely knew, signing your life away as if it were no more important than a flimsy piece of paper. You were expected to honor and obey your packmaster, carry on the tradition like your mother before you. You were expected to be human when you were told, and wolf when it counted, pleasing someone you barely knew. Someone older, with more experience, someone that already had a life.

In your dreams you see your mother, begging you not to run with tears streaming down her face. You tell her you love her, and you’re sorry for leaving.

In your dreams the packmaster catches you on your first attempt in escaping, making sure you know the consequences for betraying your pack, but you’re too determined to give up. You try again, and the last thing you see in your dreams is him chasing you through the woods, calling your name, ordering you to return to the pack.

When your eyes open, sunlight fills the room as the warm rays shine down on your cold, dirty body. A softness beneath you eases the ache in your muscles, but the blanket covering your shaking legs offers no warmth. You glance around, spotting a small TV with two large antennas, a stone fireplace to the left, a rug in front, and finally the yellow couch with a white, flower pattern you’re settled against. Your heart begins to race taking in the living room, gulping as you look to your left to see a small hallway and a few closed doors, and to your front to see the humble kitchen with the coffee maker’s red light beaming as it brews its first pot of the morning.

The moment you hear shuffling down the hall, your first instinct is to scream, not bothering to look at the figure making its way toward you. It happens in a flash, ripping the blanket from your legs, bounding toward the door even though every inch of you aches and burns, and the man calling for you as he rushes behind you, wrapping two arms around your body as you squirm to get away.

“Let-Let me go!” you scream again, but your voice is more weak, more hoarse than you’re used to. The strained words only startle him for a minute, but he grips you tighter, beginning to drag you toward the couch. “Stop! Please! Let me… Let me go!”

Your eyes shut before the first tear drop can hit your cheek, body being pushed against the couch as the images fill your mind of the men in your pack holding you down if they were to find you again. You can only imagine the things they would do if they caught you a second time, making sure you never betrayed your pack again.

“Calm down…” A deep, yet calm voice hits your ears, preventing you from releasing a sob from your mouth. Your eyes pop open, tears welling behind the lids as you take in the sight of the stranger, finding him staring back, blinking a few times before he licks his lips. He cards fingers through his hair as he exhales a deep breath, and the sight of him settled against the wooden coffee table in front of you has you frozen in place. “I’m not going to hurt you, okay?”

His eyes widen and his brows arch, wanting to make sure you understand the words. You can only offer a nod, slow and cautious, never taking your eyes from him as he leans away from you to rest his palms against his thighs.

“I want to help you…” He lowers his eyes with a sigh, and it’s clear he is deep thought over something for a moment. He tells you his name in an attempt to calm you. “What’s yours?”

He forces a smile as you stare, and you probably look like a wild animal to him with your sunken cheeks, dark circles around your eyes, and hair disheveled with dirt on your skin. It wouldn’t be too far off, but you’re positive this stranger doesn’t even know your kind exist, let alone realize you’re a wolf on the run from your pack. You say nothing for the moment to calm your breathing, and finally tell him your name after gulping to clear your throat.  

He grins again, and this time it’s genuine as he repeats your name. “Okay, so… where did you come from?” He says the words slowly, as if he’s worried he will scare you once again. “You showed up last night banging on my door then you just… collapsed.”

You blink a few times as he speaks, finding more comfort than you imagined in his deep voice. His facial gestures when he seems surprised would cause you to giggle if it were any other situation, and the way his shoulders slump as if he’s lost in confusion make it obvious he only wishes to understand how you showed up at his home in the middle of the night.

Before you can come up with an excuse to tell him, your stomach begins to rumble, reminding you of the hunger after being on the run for more than a day. Without warning, you rise to your feet, and he is tempted to follow you, but when you turn to head straight for the kitchen, he remains seated. You have no problem slinging his refrigerator door open, listening to the bottles clash together as you rummage through the shelves, stopping on a fresh pack of meat from the market. In seconds you rip open the plastic, grabbing a handful of cold, raw meat to shove in your mouth, and the sight has him muttering as he jolts from his spot toward the kitchen.

“Uh.. you don’t wanna cook that? If you’re hungry… you don’t have to eat… raw… meat…”

His words fade as he stares, watching you devour the packet piece by piece until there’s nothing but dripping blood left in the styrofoam container.  

“Hungry,” you mumble, cheeks full of meat as you toss the container on the counter.

“Um, yeah… I can tell.” He chuckles, shaking his head and you’re not in your right mind to wonder why he isn’t interrogating you over your sudden appearance, or the fact that you just gulped down raw meat in front of him. “Do you want a hot shower, maybe?” His eyes trail down to your muddy feet, then back up to the dried dirt, and now blood, on your face.

You nod quickly and he shows you to the shower, offering a clean towel, washcloth, and some baggy clothes with a few holes in them for you to throw on. Washing the dirt from your body seems to be therapeutic the moment you step beneath the hot, steaming stream, wasting enough time easing the ache from your muscles that the water turns cold. You dry off with haste and throw on his clothes, feeling more comfortable than you imagined as you make your way to him in the living room.

“Feeling better?” he asks the second he spots you, noticing your clean face and hair causes you to look rejuvenated. You can only nod as you settle in the spot at the very end of the couch, keeping enough distance between the two of you and remaining closer to the front door than him. “So, uh…”

He hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck, then he sighs.

“Where did you come from?” he asks, and waits a few seconds to realize you’re not going to answer him, but only continue to stare. “Look… I wanna help you, but you have to work with me. Are you in trouble? Do I need to call the police?”

The moment he reaches for his pocket, you’re stretching toward him to grip his arms, causing him to freeze in place. “No!” His eyes widen as you stare down at him, jaw tight, nostrils flared. “No police! No one can know that I’m here, okay?”  

Slowly, he nods before you release your grip on his arms and fall back in your seat. “Did you… run away?” His voice is low as he asks, more cautious than before, but still curious. “Is someone trying to hurt you?”

Saying nothing, you pluck at the loose thread on the flannel pants he gave you to wear. The words cut deep into your chest, though you know he doesn’t mean to. He’s only curious, and he wants to help, yet he picks at unhealed wounds with the question, forcing the memories to flood your mind, causing you to remember exactly why you’re there in the first place.

All you can do is nod, never meeting his gaze, and he drops the subject for now. Later you will remember to thank him for his generosity in letting you stay without giving too many answers, but for now you remain quiet, and he asks no more questions other than if you would like some hot food to eat.

***

The nightmares continue that night, but for once they aren’t full of memories taunting you, never allowing you to forget what the pack has done to you. They’re new images flooding your mind, preparing you for the future, promising a life full of paying the consequences for escaping from an abusive packmaster. They show you what will happen if you’re caught, not only to you, but your mother as well. They’re a guarantee that if they are to find you, you won’t receive another chance in getting away.  

You awake in his bed the second morning, sweat dripping down your neck as you clutch the fresh, white sheets beneath you. A warm glow seeps through the curtains to let you know the sun is just beginning to rise as you gasp for air, calling out for help to no one at all, but dying to be saved to keep you from facing your pack master again.

He is at your side in seconds, eyes sleepy but widening the moment he spots you struggling to breathe. His hand on your back offers a comfort you never thought you would find with someone else, and though there isn’t much he can do to cure your panic, he stays with you, telling you it’s okay, telling you he’s there for you.

When you can take a deep breath, you struggle to thank him, but all he says is, “of course,” and offers to make you breakfast. The hot food warms you up in an instant, enjoying the bacon and eggs he prepared for the both of you between sips of OJ. The two of you remain quiet as you eat, but you know he’s dying to ask about your nightmare, just like he’s dying to know where you came from.

He remains patient while you remain a mystery. He inquires about other things - your parents, your childhood, your friends, hobbies and interests - and you realize after not having an answer for any of it, growing up with the pack left you no room to get to know who you really are.

You also realize that if you’re not going to talk, he will do all the talking for you. He tells you about his family through funny and embarrassing stories to make you laugh, but it also makes you curious about why he lives alone so far out of town. He tells you about his love for animals, books, and venturing into the woods to take pictures. He asks if you know about the stream just south of his house, where there’s a small waterfall and all the rabbits like to gather.

He cooks dinner that night and promises to show you some of his pictures as the two of you eat, and though he is a complete stranger, you find yourself excited to know more about him. Maybe because you never got the option to grow close to anyone in your pack, or maybe it’s because he treats you like a human being.

The nightmares return the moment you close your eyes, leaving you jolting upright in a panic once again. He comes to your aid for the second morning in a row, calming your worries, assuring you it’s alright, and you breathe a bit better as soon as he’s at your side. His gentleness is something you have little experience with, as well as his patience and care. He talks softly to you, but he makes sure you understand what he’s saying, and you do. You pay attention with every ounce of focus in you when he speaks, whether it be a funny story as he makes eggs, or explaining his thought process when he shows you another picture he took.

You never have much to say because you were always too sheltered. You’re not anywhere near as interesting as him, and you assume the only stories you can tell are ones that would worry him if he were to find out.

“I’m not like you.”

But there is still something you need to tell him. He looks up at you the fourth morning you stay with him, bacon between his lips as he freezes, then takes a bite and grins.

“What do you mean?” He chuckles, chewing slowly, cautious of what he asks and how he asks it.

“I don’t come from… this.” Your gesture around you, but what you really mean is everything he is. You’re not interesting in your hobbies and picture taking and you don’t have any friends or family that care about you. You aren’t sure how to tell him that, however, and part of you knows the reason you even mentioned it is because you want him to know you’re not even human. “You have been so nice to me, and understanding, letting me stay here and cooking for me to try and make me feel welcome. I don’t deserve it.”

He frowns hearing the last words. “What do you mean?” With a shake of his head, he tosses the bacon down, pushing his entire plate aside. “Everyone deserves a place to stay, a warm meal, and someone to look out for them. Everyone deserves some kindness.”

You gulp as you feel the familiar tug behind your eyes, knowing the tears will begin swelling any second. He’s too good for you, you think to yourself, and maybe part of your reasoning is that he doesn’t deserve to get dragged into whatever your life was and will be. He’s too sweet, too kind and has too big of a heart, and you know this after he’s let you sleep in his bed, eat his food, and ask no other questions since the moment you told him someone wanted to hurt you.

“I should go…” By the time you stand from the small kitchen table, you have already made up your mind. “I’m so sorry for dragging you into this. I shouldn’t have.”

You begin mumbling and searching for the rags you showed up at his front door in, but he’s quick to follow you, gripping you by the arms with gentle palms.

“What are you talking about?” You attempt to wiggle your way free, and he allows you to step away from him. “Just because you’re not like me doesn’t mean you have to leave.“

“Yes it does!” The first tear hits your cheek, and it’s hot, and it stings, and it reminds you that you could never live a normal life no matter how far you run, or how long you spend away from your pack. He is too good for you, and your heart races in fear from the thought of him in the middle of you and your pack. “I can’t stay!”

“I just want to help-”

“You can’t!” you interrupt, turning away before you see the pain twisting in his expression. The tears continue to fall, guilt weighing down your chest.

He steps for you, reaching out his arms to stop you from leaving. “If you just let me-”

“No!” You push him away, stepping away until your back hits the door.

“Just tell me what’s wrong…”

“I-I can’t…”

“Please-”

“I’m not human!” The words slip from your lips before you can stop yourself, tears rolling down your face, a heaviness in your heart that reminds you you could never live like him, or be like him, or be with him, and the past few days were nothing more than taunting you with a life you will never be able to experience. “I’m not… I’m not human.” Breathlessly you tell him the truth, tell him why you have to leave, tell him he’s in danger if you stay, but all he can do is shake his head and march toward you.

“What does that even mean?” he asks, and he freezes only a foot in front of you. “What are you talking about? Are you feeling okay?”

“I have to go…” You raise your chin, blinking away the last few tears while gathering the courage to be strong. He says nothing, realizing he doesn’t understand, but he can’t hold you there. Even if he wants you to stay, and he wants to help you, you have to make up your mind on your own.

When he backs away, he gives you the freedom to leave. You make up your mind after looking into his eyes, spotting the innocence that was stolen from you, the passion you will never experience, and the gentleness you have only ever received from him. With a shaking hand, you reach for the door, turning away to leave, never looking back in fear you will change your mind.

***

You spend your night wandering the woods south of his home. Your legs and feet grow tired by sundown, but you stay on the move in hopes that if your pack is tracking you, your scent will be far enough away that he will remain safe. Your stomach growls as the moonlight slips through the trees, and you’re tempted to find a lonesome bunny in the woods to snack on, but you resist the primal urge inside of you, remembering when he mentioned the rabbits next to the stream.

He is the type to befriend an animal, and the idea has you smiling to yourself for only a second before realizing he probably isn’t the type to defend himself against a pack of wild werewolves. The thought earns a racing heart as you continue your journey, having it finally click the amount of danger you put him in. You had no choice but to leave, and you tell yourself over and over as you hear the sound of water trickling past the stones that separate the forest.

You had no choice, you think again, looking over the stream in front of you beneath the pale moonlight, an ache settling not only in your feet and legs, but now in your chest.

You had no choice, you continue to tell yourself, but if you had no choice, why does your heart ache for him as if it was the wrong one. Why is he the only thing on your mind, and why is the sight of the stream in front of you that he onced talked about so close to bringing you to tears?

You make a small space to sleep by a tree trunk, gathering up leaves for a bed, and the sounds of the stream lull you away to dreamland. For the first night in a while, you don’t dream of your pack, or your mother, but of him. You see his face as he promises he won’t hurt you as you eat the eggs and bacon he’s cooked. You can hear his laugh as he tells you stories, and you notice the patience in his eyes when you’re too afraid to tell him your own.

By morning, every inch of you aches inside and out. You tell yourself it’s from sleeping on the ground, looking down at the dirt, leaves, and broken sticks beneath you, but then you spot his clothes. His flannel pants and his ripped shirts still cover your body, and even though you’re too weak to have the full senses of a werewolf, if you inhale deep enough you might even get a hint of his scent.

Your eyes shut as you take in the smell of him, remembering the smallest details of his face, wishing you could hear his laughter, wishing he was there to comfort you like he did those mornings after having a nightmare. The ache in your heart overpowers the rest of your body, but now there is a desire to accompany the unfamiliar sting. There’s loneliness as you picture his face when you told him you were leaving, yet there’s a need to see him again, even if it’s just for a moment.

You cling to the hope in your desire because it’s the only thing that has kept you going since you left your pack. You focus on the need for a new life, a real life, and even though you haven’t known him for long, he opened up his home, and himself, to you, and it’s all the convincing you need to realize maybe a life with him in it is the kind of life you have been so desperate to have.

You begin racing through the woods just like the night you ran away, except now there’s a new strength inside of you that has you hanging on to the promise of something better, something different. Your energy returns when you picture his face in your mind, finding yourself running quicker with every step until you feel the familiar burn in your bones. Your hands hit the dirt before you can realize you’re beginning to shift, thankful your strength has returned as you make your way toward his home.

Four paws climb up the steps to his front door, and the only thing you can do is howl until you have earned his attention. The door swings open with a wide-eyed man staring down at you, taking in your white fur covering every part of your body, your wagging tail, and your long snout just past two black eyes looking up at him.

He freezes for a moment, and finally begins to move once you lower your head, inviting him to place his hand against your head. He loves animals, you remember, and it only takes him a few seconds to gather the strength to give in, reaching to pet between your ears.

The moment doesn’t last for long, however, feeling that tingling in your bones a second before your fur disappears and your four paws become two hands and feet. He jumps back with a yelp, landing on his butt now that you’re sitting in front of him, fully human, and fully naked. He rubs his eyes as if he’s a kid on Christmas morning, begging to stutter and stammer, trying to make sense of the situation, but he’s got nothing.

“Please… don’t be scared!” You try to reach for him, but when his body stiffens, you pull away. “I told you… I’m not… human.” Your eyes lower from meeting his gaze, voice quiet while wondering how you can help him understand what you are.

“But you didn’t tell me you were… that!” His jaw hangs open, and if he wasn't in such a state of shock, you would begin giggling from his reaction.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t…” A frustrated sigh falls from your lips. “I didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t want you to… to hate me.”

He blinks a few more times, and finally his mouth snaps shut. Then he takes a deep breath, and heat rises to his cheeks once the fact settles in that you’re naked. “I could never hate you…” He averts his gaze to anywhere but your bare breasts, and this time you do release a giggle at his shyness. “So, um, yeah… are you just playing a prank on me or something? ‘Cause if so, good job! You got me! But I am ready for an explanation now.” Nervous chuckles release between the words, and you only shake your head to confirm it is a reality.

“No prank.” Then you sigh, taking a moment to go over the details you want to tell him in your head. “I told you I wasn’t human. I’m a werewolf. I… ran from my pack, that’s how I ended up here. I’m a werewolf, and I’m… well, I really regret leaving you.”

His mouth opens and shuts, and you wonder if he will pass out the moment you notice his face going pale, but he sits up right to lean closer. “You do?” A nod confirms the question, and a slight smile forms on his lips. “I feel like I am going crazy right now, but… why don’t you come in and put some clothes on?”

“Thank you.”

You follow him inside to get dressed in his clothes, and you explain to him in the simplest terms of your kind, your pack, and finally, where you came from. He takes it all in without a word, and you shed a few tears in the process. He listens closely while you spill your heart to him, telling him everything you were too afraid to say the morning you woke up in his living room.

Eventually he believes the reality of werewolves existing, but in the end you realize he only cares about helping you. He comes to the realization that it doesn’t matter what you are, or where you come from, everyone deserves a place to stay, a warm meal, and someone to look out for them. After hearing about your past as well as your hopes to live a normal life, he makes a promise in that moment that he will be the one to look out for you.

#bts fluff #marvel fluff #call of duty fluff #twilight fluff #harry potter fluff #jungkook fluff #loki fluff #nct fluff #got7 fluff #monsta x fluff #stray kids fluff #harry styles fluff #ghost fluff #jimin fluff #taehyung fluff #x reader

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The Disastrous Life of Saiki K. - Superhero Roundtable

How do structural mythology, cultural studies, and cultural history reflect the series’ world and world-building around superheroes? 

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K centers on the titular character, Saiki K, a highschool student with Superman-esque levels of psychic power. He has trademark pink hair and must wear green glasses and antennae in order to limit his powers. Saiki, as one of the only actual psychic characters in the anime, actually doesn’t want to solve problems, or help anyone with his powers, and most of the show he uses his powers to minimize attention and keep to himself. His only really widespread use of power was changing everyone in the world’s hair color to also be colorful so that he doesn’t stand out as much. In direct opposition to Saiki’s nonexistent need for attention and immense psychic power, his classmate Kaidou, has no power whatever but claims to be The Jet-Black Wings, the only person standing against The Dark Reunion, an evil organization running the world behind the scenes. This is played for satire as Kaidou loudly brags about being the Jet-Black Wings and blames every mishap on the Dark Reunion, wears red bandages on his arms to “control his power,” and a dramatic action song “Judgement Knights of Thunder” plays everytime he does anything. 

Saiki K is a comedy anime satirizing the idea of a “superhero” through Saiki K, who kind of sucks and doesn’t care that much about other people, but even in using his powers selfishly, ultimately helps the people around him. This show challenges the idea that superheroes would necessarily swing to complete good or complete evil, and makes fun of those ideas in the example of satirizing binary thinking through Kaidou’s fake enemy, The Dark Reunion. Although the show begins with Saiki K doing everything he can to avoid attention and making friends, he warms up to his classmates over the show and uses his powers for their benefit, even as he convinces himself he’s just trying to help himself. 

The origination of manga in Japan was influenced by the globalization of American comics, including superhero comics, brought during WWII. Interestingly, as members of the Axis Powers, Japan and Japanese characters were featured in American superhero comics as enemies to the nation, often depicted as racist stereotypes for wartime propaganda. On an international scale, superheroes are associated with the US, as a national export and national representation of American might and power. This can be seen in superhero anime like My Hero Academia, where All Might represents the All-American superhero figure. Shows like Saiki K and Mob Psycho 100 have superhero-like characters and themes but distance themselves from calling them that, positioning themselves as psychics rather than superheroes.

In what ways are the superheroes and their abilities informed by their racial, gender, sexual, and cultural identities? 

Saiki K definitely participates in the de-racialization of characters as Will Bridges spoke to in “The Past Tense and the Future Perfect,” which we read for Cowboy Bebop. All of the characters are assumed to be Japanese, and are very homogeneous in appearance, save Nendo, whose butt-chin and weird mohawk are played for laughs. In many ways, Saiki represents the ultimate hegemonic male character who is conventionally attractive, cishet, middle class, and extremely able bodied. The only way that Saiki represents “other” could be through his lack of romantic or sexual interest in the show, much to the chagrin of Kokomi, the self proclaimed queen of the school, who appears with a halo of light around her at all times and has caused multiple stampedes of men chasing after her. The character Kaidou, who isn’t very popular with his classmates (somewhat because he always talks about the Dark Reunion), could be acting out social rejection through his fixation on being a superhero fighting evil, above the social dynamics of highschool.

In what ways do costumes and concealing identities further separate the superheroes from normal society? How necessary is it for the superheroes to hide their true identities to successfully achieve their goals? 

For Saiki, hiding his identity is his goal. To this end, he has changed everyone’s hair in the entire world to be colorful so that he doesn’t stand out. When the school has a sports test in gym class, Saiki has to tone down his supernatural speed and strength to blend in, including teleporting a ball back when he throws it so far that it can’t be seen, and squeezing a grip strength monitor so hard that that needle goes all the way around and it looks like he has an average score. For many superheroes, putting on a costume/disguise is necessary to carry out their goals, but for Saiki, his physical appearance is connected to his supernatural abilities, and the antennae and glasses he wears serve not to express his powers or his superhero role, but rather to minimize and control them.

How do the economic, political, and social events that occurred during the series’ creation and broadcast cultivate and inform the superheroes’ decisions and actions? 

The Disastrous Life of Saiki K first appeared as one-shot manga chapters published from 2012-2011, then serialized in Weekly Shonen Jump from 2012-2018. The anime based off of this manga was aired from 2016-2018. I think Saiki K intentionally builds off of the context of preexisting superhero media to satirize it, questioning the characterization of other characters with superpowers as good and selfless or evil and self-serving- Saiki is literally just some guy and he doesn’t feel any pressure to use his powers for anyone. The anime creates a depoliticized superhero- he isn’t connected to any hero organizations or governments, he doesn’t have any enemies. He is so depoliticized and inactive as a superhero figure that his morals swing all the way around into questionable because he is so powerful, and could solve so many problems, but only changed everyone’s hair.

How do the superheroes question themselves, each other, and their obligations and duties to the people around them? 

Saiki K as a show challenges the superhero trope of questioning their purpose, sense of self and obligation to others by making Saiki antisocial and feel pretty neutrally about everyone besides himself. He always ends up helping the people around him, even when he doesn’t mean to, often doing so because it’s the easiest way to avoid being exposed, or not taking action will negatively impact him in some way. In one episode, he watches a magician on TV being locked in a box, and when it seems like he won’t be able to escape in time, Saiki teleports onto the set to save him. He does this in order to save the magician from a deadly incident which could potentially delay the rest of the tv channel, including Saiki’s favorite mystery show that after the magic show. He does help people, but his obligation is (allegedly) to himself first.

@theuncannyprofessoro

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