#but come on this fellow could fucking die

[xederam]

noelle: sees that kris might actually be in genuine danger

also noelle: hmmfgf,dhm,f.h.,,,.,,. bull,y m,,,e,,,...... grils f, .,.,,,, buly...,

#noelle deltarune #deltarune #deltarune noelle #susie deltarune #deltarune susie #kris deltarune #deltarune kris #suselle #deltarune suselle #suselle deltarune #i mean i get it #at least to some extent #but come on this fellow could fucking die #thank heavens kris cast power word pain on susie before anything happened #deltarune sweepstakes

[eorzeashan]

lol @ my parents and specifically my dad being so brainwashed by capitalism that every country that didn't subscribe to its system was always poor and deserved to be and the global south was never ramsacked by america or had any cia coups and i'm making it all up and capitalism is a good and pure system and the incredibly skewed and corrupt and incorrect view of communism they have because of traumatic personal experience is the only fact and ONLY type of communism to ever exist which makes them more qualified to talk about it than thousands of authors and teachers who have both experienced and studied it in an unbiased way for decades with entire degrees. I hate capitalism and the way its poisoned my parents minds so thoroughly that the entire idea of capitalism being a system that everyone is born under and forced to participate in with inherently unfair advantages is impossible to fathom. surely america is just rich because the system works and we were only self sufficient! BECAUSE WE PLUNDERED EVERYONE ELSE?

#ooc #political #sorry for the rant i'm actually furious rn that you can look at people from smaller countries and go the system we forced them into to #to work in poorer jobs that force them to serve others from richer countries is actually a good opportunity for them #DIE. #it makes me so mad you can experience poverty and still say it's fair for others to be born into it. #you think it's natural for others to be dirt poor and some to just have it? that it grows on trees? #that god decides whether you have running water or are born in america? #god i want to die. #meanwhile stupid ass dad says everything i learned in university was wrong bc of his personal experience #that everything i read is wrong #that the actual communist manifesto is WRONG? #when there's no right or wrong to it it's an IDEAL #his bias is so intense he has to label a different political alignment as horribly wrong #yeah. as opposed to the ongoing war crime that is capitalism #nevermind how unbelievably racist it is as well #i'm just fucking furious. i hate this family. i said i was so disappointed that i could have such productive discussions in school #with my teachers and fellow students even if they disagreed #and i come to my parents who tout themselves as scholars who pride on education above all #and they talk like fascists #it's just....it's so humiliating. and upsetting knowing they would kiss the ass of a system that actively has harmed so many people #and they can still say that's all of their own fault for not investing #that money is something you can get if you just work #and times haven't changed at all! #i can't bear it here.

[evilminji]

You know all those Cults in Gotham?

Bet at least ONE of them could spring for both a Legit Magic User and a Cloning pod.

Because The Wayne's? Hearts of Gold. Long standing pains in the asses. Probably the only thing standing between this gods forsaken wasteland of a city and Their Dark Lord. For GENERATIONS no less!

It's sooooo obnoxious!

So they want to Curse Um dead. Just a good ol fashioned bloodline curse. Destroy um from within, etc. BUT! To do THAT? You kinda need a blood relative to sacrifice!

And Bruce is... well... rather infamously An Orphan With No Biological Kids (at that point).

So? What do you do? Make one, obviously. You send in some of your own on a Holy Mission. Honeypot that playboy! Get us a kid to sacrifice! Our God will reward you etc! But... FFS! What? Are brunettes not your TYPE or something?! Pretty lady! Throwing herself at you!!

TAKE THE BAIT!

But he DOESN'T. Because he's both really used to that behavior, as The Wayne Heir and a False Playboy, AND because? He's fuckin Batman. He can see through your schemes.

Okay.

Okay!

Plan B!

Get us some DNA. We'll CLONE the sucker. That should be doable, right?

........OH COME ON! How?!

Batman: [REDACTED] / Cultists: 0

Fuck it! This is impossible! How are we supposed too... *eyes drift over to the Wayne Family Private Graveyard* .......Idea? Ideeeeaaaa~! Someone get us a shovel!

So they, cultist bastards that they are? Fuckin rob a grave for some DNA.

OBVIOUSLY though, it can't be one of the more RECENT graves! He probably VISITS those! Watches them! No we gotta be SNEAKY! Get one a bit further back! Mwahahahaha! We're so brilliant! Our God is gonna give us SUCH a Good Grade in follower!

A thing that is both REAL and possible to achieve!

So, while a Weirdly FURIOUS Batman? Is just... VIOLENTLY breaking ALL of their bones? Cultist 17 is furiously digging like his life depends on it. Either somebody snitched or Batman was hunting them down! Either way?

Gotta! Get! That! DNA!!! *digs faster*

Ah HA! Got it!

Fucking SCATTER! Run you fools, RUN!!! *everyone bolts*

And AT LAST! They have it! Wayne DNA! Now? Pop that sucker into the machine and make us a baby! Too sacrifice! *relieved noises* Man, that was hard work you guys. But we DID it!

Except??

Theoretical Babies? And "Real, slowly forming in front of me and becoming a human child" type babies? VERY DIFFERENT psychologically. It's ONE thing to sacrifice a HYPOTHETICAL baby... but when you're the guy running and monitoring the Cloning machine? Watching it slowly form and come together into... into a CHILD?

You start asking questions of yourself. Of God.

Of what, EXACTLY, you are willing to do.

What lines you find yourself unwilling to cross.

And yeah, your life was SHIT before the cult. Yeah, you were alone. Adrift. Without purpose. Angry at the world for all of its ugliness and failings. But... sitting, alone, in a dark room? Nothing but the steady hum of machines and the cool light of that pod? You are left with nothing but time... and your thoughts.

And the baby.

The one... the one YOU made.

Almost... he's almost like a son, in a way. Your son. Floating there, innocent and unknowing. Destined to be born, only to die painfully, for a cause he could not even begin to understand. Because he's too young. Too small. Just... just a baby.

The baby YOU made.

Doubt seeps in like mist. Creeping into the cracks forming in your faith. Surely there's another way, right? Why not save up for a better magician? Or... or hire a hitman? Why involve a child? Surely... surely your God would not WANT this, right? Or if He did! Surely, he would want the boy to be able to CHOOSE, right? A noble sacrifice, for the cause?

The pressure builds. Batman is tearing the city APART looking for your fellow Believers. Leadership is pressuring you to get "It" ready all ready.

He's not an "it".

They are dismissing your questions. Threatening and posturing, as you grapple with your faith. Where? Where is the COMMUNITY that you joined? The camaraderie? Every day, Believers are being torn down. The faith has lost so many!

How can this be WORTH it?

Your faith is slowly, cruelly, strangled in your chest. A death, by ten thousand silences, and ten thousand more cruelties.

Your son is ready.

You do not tell them.

The Clone of Bruce Wayne's great-grandfather is small, but healthy, in your arms. A tiny warm body, with a strong beating little heart. You call the police. Leave your phone, call running, on the desk. No one thinks to stop you, as you calmly walk out the back door.

Why would they doubt?

You are Faithful.

You drive. Pray to a God you have lost faith in, beg forgiveness for what you do now. Your beat up old junker of a car makes decent time, as you leave Gotham. Your son, asleep in a carefully made nest of blankets, on the seat next to you. You drive. You keep driving.

Past towns.

Past cities.

Out of the state.

Stopping only to feed your son and fuel your car. You... you can not bring yourself to care about what will happen to you now. You know they will find you. Know this is the end. But something ancient burns in your chest. A caring you never thought was REAL.

You are afraid.

But you will not let them harm your son.

Finally, a town. Far from Gotham. Quite and cheerful. It calls to you.

Here. It... it has to be here.

You find the hospital. Tears choking you. There is a place to drop of children. You've seen them before. How strange, that now you stand before it and HURT. Your arms not listening to your command. You... you have to do this. You HAVE too.

He is just a baby.

He is your son.

You have to keep him safe. And... and that can not be with you.

You gently put your baby boy into the drop off. Press the buzzer. And then? You make yourself walk away.

Get back in your car, and drive. The gun in your glove box will insure they can never pry from you, what you have done. Where he is. He is safe now. He has to be. You... you did your job. As his father. You made sure he was safe.

You can barely see the road, through your tears.

You take your secrets to the grave.

And Danny? He grows up. Is adopted young and never knows different. Both a Fenton and a Wayne. Knowing only one of these, to be his. But... that Wayne? Was a damn fine man. A pillar of his community and a champion of the people.

Got tossed more then a few blessings, in his life.

They weren't the STRONGEST. But they added up. And more importantly? Were hardly the refined magics of the more powerful. They were cast onto "Him". By blood and bone, more often then not. Which was all well and good!

When there was only ONE of "Him".

Cloning technology did not exsist. So why would you word carefully against it? Danny becomes a VERY lucky boy. Survives many things he should not. In fact, the kindness and hard work of his original? Gifted back in magically powered well wishes? By this, he survives something NO ONE could possibly expect him too.

It saves his life.

His template would be quite pleased, knowing that. That his life of good deeds, saved the life of the child he never got a chance to meet. That it protected his children, from even beyond death.

And in Gotham? At long, long last. The program Bruce made in his helplessness and despair, to search EVERY child until the child made of his bloodline was found? Spits out a match.

A Watchtower engineer.

Daniel J. Fenton.

@hdgnj @hypewinter @lolottes @babbling-babull @nerdpoe @mutable-manifestation

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #that baby is my great grandpa! au #spice up the cloning au #minji's writing

[eustasskidagenda]

anon asked: Hi, fellow Kid-Stan, I love your writing, it's so well-written! So I hope my request isn't too weird, but would you mind writing some headcanons with a fem reader afraid of having sex with Kidd, Zoro, Law and Sanji if that's okay. Like because the reader is stressed about getting hurt (maybe because of their size or because it’s been a long time since the last time the reader had sex, no heavy topic involved!) Thank you if you consider writing this scenario and please, can I stay anon if you post this?

Hello, dear anon! Thank you for requesting and your kind words, it was interesting to think about how those dummies would act in this situation. I hope you'll like the result.♡

☆Kid, Zoro, Law & Sanji with a s/o afraid of having sex

CW : n/sfw, MDNI, f!reader, size kink, oral sex (reader receiving), fingering (reader receiving), v. sex, unprotected sex, protected sex, dirty talk, praises, Sanji talking in French because I could die for this, Kid is cursing as always, let me know if I forgot something

WC : around 2,000

You can read the part two here & the part three here

Kid

Let's assume it's your first time in the same bed: Kid being... Kid, his first reaction would be to grin cockily or even laugh proudly. He thinks you're actually praising him for his size. Please keep going, it’s music to his ears. He loves praises and when you acknowledge his size. It fuels his ego tremendously. "I know it's big, that's enough praise. Wait, were you talking seriously?" 

Seriously, Kid, ugh. 

So, once he realized you're not praising him but rather really stressed, he's still pleased with himself.

Kid is a man of action; talking, trying to understand, or reassuring is not something he's easily able to do. Because honestly, he would just say something like "it's just sex, I'm not gonna hurt ya, look how wet you are" 

Whenever there's a problem, he's more inclined to take action to find a solution. So his first reaction is to ask if you want to stop. Although he may be cocky and carefree, he would never cause harm to anyone he truly cares about. And no one will have a good time if you're too stressed. Totally pointless. 

So you have to tell him you want to continue, but you're nervous because Kid is not the one to indulge into sweetness and his size doesn't make things more easily. 

"Then, come get what you want by yourself" he would say before laying on his back, his cock twitching impatiently. Kid doesn't often let his partner ride him, except when he's feeling tired. His body is truly a beautiful throne to sit on. A toned and beautiful body, covered with scars, like war paint, full of stories and secrets.

Once you finally straddle him, he would hold your hips firmly as you line your wet pussy up to his cockhead. When you slowly impale yourself on his thick member, he would let out a low, animalistic growl of satisfaction. You feel too tight around him, and you feel too full with him buried deep inside you, stretching your walls. 

He would guide you down his cock until his balls deep inside you. The expression of pure delight on his face is truly mesmerizing. Riding someone as tough and impressive is quite intimidating, so he would hold your hips, helping you to move up and down, as you slowly adjust to him. "Fuck, look at you, taking me all the way in like the good girl you're"

He feels your walls tightening him as you start to move faster.

"Take it easy" That's the moment you will hear his shaky breath and deep growls. He can't handle how good you feel. So wet, so hot, so tight as you walls spasms around him. His cock is throbbing inside you and he grit his teeth, holding your hips that firmly it will leave bruises on your skin tomorrow.

He's truly trying his best to not just hold your hips and slams inside you as his usual rough and merciless pace. He wants to transform you into a whiny mess. 

"Shit, y/n, let me fuck you." 

And once you finally get used to him, then prepare yourself for the wildest ride of your life. You better hold onto those sheets tightly. Because he will slap your ass, pull on your hair and fuck you with enough intensity to leave you breathless and exhausted.

Zoro

Zoro has not a lot of experience because he's way too focused on his goal of becoming the greatest swordsman ever. Even when it comes to sex, he's a bit oblivious. So you better have to be precise and explain things correctly, so that it takes over his mind. As Kid, he's not a man of many words, he doesn't really know how to reassure you. Like, okay, it's been a while since the last time you had sex, but the same applies to him. At least you're in the same situation, isn't that nice?

He's trying his best.

Once he's sure you want to keep going, he will consider the whole thing like a training: everyone needs a good warm-up. So prepare yourself to have your pussy eat for a long, long time and to cum at least once against his lips. He may not be the most experienced, but he learns quickly and your body language is like talking to him. 

He would then slowly push two fingers inside you, feeling how wet you are for him. "Looks like my girl is ready for me, yeah?" 

Try not to be too embarrassed when he hungrily licks his fingers covered in your wetness, like if it were a precious cup of sake. The way your body looks and tastes is truly intoxicating. How could he get enough of your shivering, moaning, sweating, begging, and slow pleads when his head is buried between your thighs? 

"Now open your legs for me" 

Eyes darkening with lust as he sees your folds exposed, his cock twitching and throbbing. Although he is thick, he never realized it. So you better prepare yourself. 

He would look into your eyes just to be sure you're still willing, before placing his hands on your shoulders to pinning you down the mattress, shifting his weight so he can position himself at your entrance. 

Thrust forward, filling you up in one swift motion. He's completely focused, as if it's an important battle. And actually, he's really struggling to stay nice and slow for you. He's quiet. Breathe deeply and make low grunts close to your ear.  When you begin to scratch his back, he becomes confused. Why are you doing this? Does it hurt or feel good? "You doing okay?" 

If you tell him you need more now, he will give it to you as hard as you want.

"Such a brave girl"

Law

As a good doctor, his first reaction is to understand the cause of the problem. Is it a physical or psychological problem? Sex can be painful if you're experiencing too much stress or vaginismus. If he wants to help you feel better, he needs to understand what's going on. He’s a logical man, he can't act without a good understanding of what's happening. 

He would probably cover your body too, in order to preserve your intimacy while you explain him you're just a bit stressed because it's been a long time and you often face pain when it comes to sex. 

"Sex isn't supposed to hurt or to be stressful. Do you want to continue?" 

As you slowly nodded, he would kiss your forehead and then slowly remove the bedsheets, revealing your bare body to himself. 

He wants to reassure you even if he struggles with intimacy, including in the bedroom. He's not that kind of guy having sex with random people. If you end up in the same bed, it's because he genuinely cares about you. And damn, he definitely knows how to take care of your body too. He has divine hands. Good to heal, but also to help you reach new heights. The way he runs his hands along your body, your inner thighs, your pussy, and then your clit causes shivers down your spine. 

And when he slides two fingers inside your core, damn, the only thing you can do is arches your back and beg for more. He’s the king of fingering. You can't help but cum as his thumb circles your clit while he pushes his long fingers in and out of you. When he removes them, his tattoos are soaked with your wetness, you are flustered, and he's content with himself. He can't help but grins, licking his fingers while watching your reaction closely. Even in bed, Law likes to tease you.

"Need me so bad, y/n-a?" with a slight pinch on your nipple 

He's a doctor, so he will wear a condom. Even if you're wet, he'll reach for the bottle of lubricant and then sloshing some onto his palm before smearing it over his length. The emo boy myth is true because his cock is long.

Usually, Law struggles with eye contact, it's too intimate for his sake. But for once, he will let you lie on your back, spreading your thighs enough to fit in between. His tattooed chest slowly rises up with each breath, making him look beautiful over you. 

"You're ready?" 

He's a smart and careful person, so he'll go slowly and check your expression to ensure you're alright. He feels the tightness around his cock. So wet, so hot. His hands are shaking on your hips while he gently steady you. "Everything's fine?"

Slow and deep strokes as you trace the tattoos on his arms and chest. With his lips sealed to yours, he swallows all of your moans. And his low, deep breaths are leaving you in shambles.

Sanji

Oh, sweet Sanji. Similar to Zoro, he's not the most experienced, but he has a kind and compassionate soul. He would let you explain yourself, running his hands all over your shoulders, hair and stomach, trying to soothe you as you confess you're scared because it's been a while since the last time you had sex.

Sanji would never judge you. He would offer you sweet kisses to cover your body, promising to take things at your own pace. And if you need to stop, please just tell him. He would try his best to hide that he's a bit nervous too; nervous about hurting you or not being good enough for you. 

Gentle kisses on your neck, breasts, lower stomach, inner thighs, and hands running all over your skin, fondling your breasts softly with a heavenly touch. He wants to take good care of every inch of your skin because your body is so precious, perfect and beautiful. All your shivering, moaning, and the way you look at him with pure love on your face... it melts his heart. He desperately wants to be inside you, but he'll never rush the whole thing. Like a good meal, sex deserves to be appreciated. 

Probably the king of oral sex, he could keep his head burring between your thighs for the entire day and still can't get enough of how good you pussy feel and taste. He is fond of eating you out, hearing you moan, feeling you shivering and beg for more. The way your body is arching, how you grab his hair, pressing his lips more firmly against your wet folds. Not only do his hands know how to cook, but they also know how to please your body. Slowly circling your clit, fondling your breasts, and caring for every inch of your skin, making you melt and beg for more. You forgot you were tensed and stressed with all his attention. 

Sanji being Sanji, he would love to bind your wrists with his tie, but he knows it's not the time for this. "I need to be inside you, mon amour" (my love)  His cock is painfully hard and twitching, leaking in pre-cum.

As you spread your legs, letting him know that you're ready for more, Sanji would try his best to hide how stressed he really is. He doesn't want to hurt you. Fingers entwined with yours, a lot of eye contact as he slowly pushes his cock inside you. "Shh, it's okay. You're so tight. Laisse-moi te faire l'amour" (let me make love to you)

You softly moan as he penetrates you completely. You were stressed about getting hurt after such a long time without having sex, but Sanji is so soft that it didn't hurt even a bit. Even if you're relaxed, he would ask, "Am I hurting you?" And when you confirm that everything is more than fine, he can't help but sigh in relief. His fingers are still entwined with yours as you use your other hand to softly pull on his hair.

Slow and deep strokes. "C'est si bon d'être en toi" (it feels so good to be inside you) He is not ashamed of moaning. Moans that are really pretty. The feeling of your skin against his, how wet and welcoming you are inside. This is too much for him to handle. 

Naturally, when it came to aftercare, he would rush to the kitchen to make you a good meal. 

Sanji is so sweet please, help.

#one piece headcanons #eustass kid x reader #eustass kid headcanons #one piece x reader #eustass kid x y/n #eustass kid x you #one piece smut #eustass kid #eustass kid imagine #one piece requests #eustass kid smut #trafalgar d law x you #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law headcanons #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law #law x reader #trafalgar law smut #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa smut #one piece zoro #zoro smut #zoro x you #sanji x reader #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji x you

[wonysugar]

i beg you write playing with karinas boobs please please please

now... karina being the most likely to enjoy getting her boobs played with in aespa let's talk about it!! btw reader is the 5th member of aespa :] also karina has an unnie kink i don't make the rules

it doesn’t come as a shock to anyone to say that karina has pretty big tits, like let's all be real for a second wbk. she's obviously very aware of it too, and isn't at all afraid to wear revealing clothes and such, she wants to flaunt that gorgeous body of hers as much as possible and tbh? as she should! you could even go to the extent of saying that she's pretty much obsessed with herself with how much cleavage she shows on a daily basis.

even when she's fingers deep into herself, her other hand tends to fixate on her chest area the most, groping and gently pulling at her nipple as she quietly moans into her own pillow.

no seriously, she would die for her own tits you do not get it.

so, hearing the other girls compliment her innocently in regards to that? oh it brings her a feeling that can't even be described with words. especially when the one giving the compliments is none other than y/n.

she knew y/n liked staring at them, whether it was in public or not. at an interview, an award show, a livestream? it truly did not matter. she stares at them whenever and wherever, and karina's aware of it. she likes it, even; it brings her a sense of... superiority, observing how the other girl looks at her, with such admiration, such curiosity. it drove her insane. y/n could say something as trivial as "jimin unnie i'm so jealous, how do they sit so well?" and it would get said girl inexplicably riled up. no seriously, the honorific does things to her every time.

so when karina has the opportunity to be alone in the dorms with y/n? oh she makes sure to very quickly take it. doing things like wearing extra tight clothes (sometimes barely any lol), not wearing a bra, etc. she takes this shit very seriously and is absolutely set on making y/n worship her tits!

now of course, the latter isn't stupid. she catches on pretty quickly that karina is practically in heat for her, and who is she to not give her unnie what she wants?

bumping into karina and groping her 'by mistake' before noticing how the older girl blushes at the situation, her breathing getting slightly heavier. seeing that, y/n starts teasing her about it! (well yess as you do, of course)

"oh, i didn't know you were like that, jimin unnie.. what a pervert. you wanted me to do that, didn't you?"

AND THEN SHE NODSSS?? it's quite literally over for her, there's a pool growing in between her legs already, she's getting hotter by the second and you're blatantly staring at her chest right in front of her. what else is she supposed to do in this situation?

satisfied with her unspoken answer, it doesn’t take long for y/n to slide her hands up the other girl’s shirt and… oh well would you look at that she isn’t even wearing a bra! but then again, after hearing karina repeatedly whisper something along the lines of “please touch me.”, she kinda figured that the older member wouldn’t waste time in putting on something as useless as a bra.

at this point?? her shirt is OFF, her bra is ACROSS THE ROOM, and she’s sitting on the couch getting marked up BY HER FELLOW MEMBER.

this is all she could’ve ever wanted, of course, the only thing that would possibly made it better would be to have the rest of the girls watch and potentially even join in, but that was unfortunately reserved for another day. for now? karina was perfectly content with being groped by her dearest member.

y/n, on her end of things, is in a whole completely world! (what a loser LOLLL amirite) seemingly put into a trance by the sight of her leader’s bare tits before her, “fuck unnie, they’re so.. so pretty.. and so soft.” as her fingers gently trace around her nipples, grazing her thumb against one of them. and the sounds karina let out in response to that? music to her fucking ears.

y/n wanted to make her scream. and she might’ve, with how each one was louder than the previous at every movement she made.

but she wanted it louder.

she wanted to make her leader feel good.

so, with no warning whatsoever, she settles her mouth right on one of karina’s nipples, sucking at it gently whilst still groping and massaging the other, the girl’s moans fueling her to continue roaming her tongue all over, sloppier and messier with each second that passes.

“mmh— y/n… t-that’s right, make your u-unnie feel good baby—“ is what karina says as she rubbing the back of y/n’s head and looking down at her. the sight of her closing her eyes, licking and sucking on her boobs like this… making such a mess… practically drooling on them while also gently twisting and playing with the other nipple… it all felt too good. and to top it all off? being praised for her undeniably smoking hot body as she’s getting her tits marked up all prettily?

it wouldn’t be completely insane to say that she cums just from that alone.. right?

#anon asks #anon #kpop gg #smut #female reader #yoo jimin #yoo jimin smut #aespa smut #jimin smut #karina scenarios #karina aespa x female reader #aespa karina smut #karina smut #jimin aespa #yoo jimin x female reader #yoo jimin aespa #aespa x fem reader #kpop gg smut #gg smut

[chaoticbardlady99]

I Wondered If I Could Come Home? (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- It’s been 4 months since you last saw Astarion and 3 months since you killed the Netherbrain with your other companions. Shortly after, you settled down in Silverymoon to begin a life out there and try to push Astarion out of your mind- except it can never be that easy. You shortly discover you are pregnant with his child- a child that could kill you during childbirth. Scared and alone- Shadowheart stays with you to help you deliver the baby and keep you alive.

While out at the local market, Shadowheart runs into Gale and invites him over for dinner. Gale has unexpected company.

CW: Pregnancy, mentions of potential death during birth, mentions of nudity, mentions of NSFW smut

To my fellow DND fans- no this is probably not canon compliant, yes I’m upset about that, but look I really needed to write this so sue me I guess

Author note- Self indulgent, I have baby fever, but don’t want a baby fic. I’m unsure of how long this will be or if it will have more parts-it depends on how angsty I feel, but I need to have like six different ideas to think about at a time soooo 😂

*This hasn’t been edited ✨well✨so please forgive me

*again, no fucking clue who’s picture it is, but it sure as shit isn’t mine so if it’s yours- reach out so I can give credit!

You keep yourself propped up against the sink in the kitchen as Shadowheart holds your hair out of your face and dabbing away the cold sweat that drips down your neck.

You are really sick of being morning sick. It’s absolutely the worst thing in the world- well besides your potential death from carrying your little girl inside of you. You sometimes think Astarion may get his wish- you may just die screaming.

You dry heave one last time- not a single thing comes up because you haven’t kept a single thing down since two mornings ago. Your morning sickness is inconsistent and comes on with little to no warning.

It’s been five months since you conceived this fricken kid, but it was like all the symptoms hit after you killed the Netherbrain.

A part of you really wishes you had somehow known before then- maybe it would have changed the cruel fate that ended your relationship with Astarion. You were literally pregnant in the middle of fighting Cazador. You think about what he last said to you all the time and just sob hysterically- like it happened yesterday.

A deeper part of you feels abandoned, but you blame yourself for him leaving. You should have been more convincing or maybe you shouldn’t have flat out told him no and explained why in the hells you didn’t want him to ascend.

For example- you didn’t want to lose him to some evil version of himself.

Ironically, you lost him anyway and are pregnant with his fucking child who insists on occasionally making you miserable.

Despite your inherent sadness, anger, and sickness, you find you are actually quite excited to meet her. You haven’t settled on a name yet and Shadowheart has been very helpful in regards to making sure you are healthy and strong for delivery. She’s your best friend and you could not be more grateful for her.

“I’ll go back to the market today and get you more of those herbs,” Shadowheart says quietly when she talks to you, “they seemed to help last time?”

You nod- exhausted and your head is pounding. You and this kid are going to need to have a serious conversation. You will not be letting a second Acunin make you miserable before she is ever born.

Shadowheart guides you to your bed upstairs, standing behind you in case you get hit with a wave of vertigo- which usually happens post vomit episode.

You pull your curtains closed- thankful that the desperate hope in your heart led you to buying black out curtains. You close your door and lay down on your bed- tears spilling down your cheeks freely.

You miss him terribly. You shouldn’t. You should positively hate him, but everyday of this pregnancy makes you ache for him. You should be doing this together.

You know it’s hormones- the weepiness, the intense longing, and the Gods awful horniness. Dreams are the worst. You wake up a squirming disaster at least three times a week with your skin burning hot with memories of Astarion touching you.

You are happy that isn’t the case currently, but the weepiness sucks too. Remembering how he used to curl around you, the way it felt to have him kiss you on the forehead, and all those late night conversations with (now empty) promises. You curl yourself around your pillows, willing your imagination to pretend it’s him, and you sob until you fall asleep.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion tries to contain his excitement and fear as he follows Gale and Shadowheart to your home. Finally, after searching for literal months, he was going to see you again.

Astarion has been haunted by the last words he had said to you for what feels like eons now. He hadn’t meant it at the time and he certainly doesn’t mean it now.

He had been too afraid to come back to you after everything he had said. Astarion decided you probably hate him anyway so he tried to move on.

He tried being with other people (it always failed miserably because they weren’t you), he drank until he couldn’t remember a damn thing, and when all else failed, he began his search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

After the nightlife of Baldur’s Gate lost it’s appeal and he finally found a ring location, Astarion found himself in front of Gale’s door in Waterdeep- begging him of all people to help him.

The wizard had been puzzled and melancholy when he realized Astarion was at his door. Astarion told him every little piece of how he feels about you, how much he misses you, and how he wants to be able to give you the life that you deserve. Astarion was practically on the verge of hysteria while trying to make his case.

Thus began the search for the Ring of the Sunwalker.

They were able to locate and obtain one after a grueling three month long journey and some help from one of Gale’s old friends. Then, they headed straight to Silverymoon- your last known whereabouts.

Running into Shadowheart had felt like a miracle, but to also have her living with you had made the trip even easier. Except Shadowheart was being really really weird towards him.

When Gale first asked if Astarion could come along too, Shadowheart had asked Astarion why he wanted to come and see the person he “hoped died screaming?”

Astarion had flinched at the anger and venom in Shadowheart’s voice. He figured the others would be mad, but he was hoping maybe Shadowheart would give him a little easier time like Gale had. Astarion was genuinely surprised by how quick she was to be defensive of you and your whereabouts. When Gale confirmed that Astarion was telling the truth, Shadowheart reluctantly said he could come.

The three arrive at the front of your shared townhome- it faces the beach and has the perfect amount of windows for the sun to light up the house, but one of the rooms is hidden from sight with heavy, black out curtains.

Shadowheart turns to both of them, “Tav might not be able to join us… she’s been sick for a bit now and is… recuperating.”

Astarion feels his heart drop to his stomach.

“Sick? For how long?”

Shadowheart shifts on her feet uncomfortably, “5 months, but it got worse around 3 months.”

“Tav has been sick for that long?” Gale exclaims, “why didn’t you write!? I could have helped.”

“This particular affliction is one you wouldn’t understand,” Shadowheart says with a finality that suggests the conversation is done as she leads them into the kitchen.

Shadowheart immediately gets fussing with the herbs while Gale looks around the house. Astarion is still unsure of what he should be doing. The house engulfs him in your scent and he feels positively intoxicated. You must be really sick though because your scent smells different- not bad at all, just different.

Does he talk to Shadowheart? Does he look around with Gale?

Or does he sneak off and find you? Astarion doesn’t want to waste anymore time than he already has. Slowly, he creeps towards the stairs.

“Don’t even think about it, Astarion,” Shadowheart warns.

Astarion looks at her and then back at the stairs. He does this a couple times until Shadowheart appears to be annoyed enough that she’s let her guard down a bit.

Astarion takes off up the steps and he hears Shadowheart and Gale coming up right behind him.

Astarion hears a dry heave from down the hallway and he goes racing for the door.

If you are as sick as Shadowheart has suggested (5 months is crazy long), Astarion may not have much time with you and Gods he needs to take advantage of the time he does have.

Shadowheart be damned.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

You wake up feeling even worse than you did when you fell asleep. Your headache feels like it’s taken on a life on it’s own and Gods you are going to vomit all over the floor if you don’t move NOW!

You get up with an impossible amount of speed for how dizzy you are and you grab the pail on your nightstand and heave painfully.

You are rocking back and forth, groaning as more stomach acid comes up because again, not able to even keep anything down.

You hear a pair of footsteps and then Shadowheart screaming after-

“ASTARION! THEY ARE SICK! YOU NEED TO WAIT!”

“I have been looking for them for months now,” you hear him hiss, “if they are sick, I need to see them. If this has lasted five months- then who knows how much time I’ve wasted!”

“Will you stop being selfish for five minutes!? It’s not about you and who even says she wants to see you!?”

Shadowheart and Astarion are yelling in front of your door now. You feel tears prick your eyes- Astarion is here. Here here. A flurry of excited kicks from inside you catches your attention and a feeling of blissful happiness comes over you. Oh look, the nausea is gone. Of course it is.

“Traitor,” you whisper before laying down on your bed for a moment.

You are very happy that your unborn daughter appears to be pleased and feels good about her dad being on the other side of the door. You, on the other hand, are less than optimistic.

Wasted time doing what? And why did Shadowheart say I was sick!? In what world was that going to keep him from going upstairs!? Especially if he, your mind pauses, cares about me? Again?

Which you hope he does- you would hope Shadowheart wasn’t so sick of taking care of you that she brought him here to finish the job. Maybe this is all one big show.

Another, “I WILL DO WHAT I PLEASE” from Astarion, a “YOU SELFISH BASTARD” from Shadowheart, and a “Please can’t we all just be nice, catch up, and get along?” from Gale finally gives you the motivation to get up. The arguing feels far too much like being in camp again. You pinch the bridge of your nose, willing the growing headache to go away.

It doesn’t so you change into a pair of longer cotton pajama pants, a t-shirt that is unfortunately showing off your bump more than you’d like, and then you swing open the door in tired annoyance.

You are met with Astarion looking at you- his eyes scanning up and down your body- settling on your stomach. His expression is unreadable- it’s somewhere between lust, love, grief, and heartbreak. Embarrassed by Astarion’s intense gaze, you look over at Gale who is all smiles for you.

“Congratulations Tav!!!” Gale practically yells, making you wince, “the father is a lucky man.”

“I don’t think he considers himself a lucky man,” you say pointedly before turning to Astarion, “or do you?”

Astarion’s face changes entirely with your words. His eyes look at you, round and soft. His eyes are full of adoration and need- a look you never thought he would give you again. You have to fight the urge to grab him and drag him into your bedroom. You will not let the hormones win- you will be strong.

“I- it’s- I mean,” Astarion is fumbling over his words, “you are carrying my child?”

“Yes,” you say grumpily, crossing your arms,” and she’s been giving me nothing but trouble. Thanks to your genetics, I’m sure. This is day two of not being able to keep a damn thing down and this fucking headache is UNBEARABLE so please for the love of every God keep the arguing down.”

Astarion is still looking at you with a mystified expression- taking you in as if for the first time in his entire life. You look back towards Gale and Shadowheart- you are entirely too self-conscious and way too excited to see him for him to be looking at you like that. You are trying to be mad dammit!

Shadowheart gazes at you and your surely red tipped ears with amusement before she says, “I’ll go and get the potion ready for you- that should hopefully help.”

“I will- uh,” Gale says awkwardly, looking between you and Astarion, “join you! I might need to know which herbs to use… in the future?”

“Planning on getting pregnant Gale?” You say with a smirk.

Gale snorts at you, “Dear friend, as wonderful as you look right now- none of the side effects sound appealing.”

“Oh they most certainly aren’t,” you say,” but thanks for thinking I look ‘wonderful’. I feel, well, disgusting.”

“Gods, how could you even think that?” Astarion blurts out, appearing shocked that he even said it, “you look like…. A vision. A wonderful, stunning vision, Darling.”

Shadowheart and Gale excuse themselves as you struggle to find the words for Astarion’s comment. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and you feel yourself begin to melt a little bit. You feel your emotions bloom into something resembling spring as he steps closer to you- looking at you with pleading eyes.

You clear your throat, “would you like to come into my room and talk?”

Astarion nods eagerly, following behind you so close that you once again have to remind yourself that ripping off the clothes of someone who literally told you they wanted you to die screaming was not healthy- at least not until you get a proper apology.

You sit against your headboard as Astarion walks around your room- running his fingers along the bassinet and rocking chair in the corner. You still can’t get a read on him.

“A girl?”

His question breaks the air.

“Yes,” you smile at him, “no name yet though.”

“I’m sure you’ll pick a nice one,” he says with a smile, but his tone is entirely too melancholic.

A painful thump in your heart fills your body with sadness. He doesn’t want to be involved. Of course he doesn’t want to be involved. You are his knocked up ex-girlfriend. What were you expecting? The lump forming in your throat is unbearable.

“You don’t want to be involved?”

Oh good Gods you are crying. Astarion rushes over to you the minute your tears begin to fall- sitting in front of you on the bed. He reaches out and gently wipes your tears away as he speaks.

“I want to be involved so badly it hurts,” his voice comes out scratchy and emotional, “but that is your decision, not mine. You have been on your own for months, my Love. Instead of trying to come back and make it better- I pushed it off until I thought I could give you what you deserved- a life in the sun.”

You almost whine in protest when his hands leave your face. He twists the ring around his index finger before continuing, avoiding your gaze, “But maybe I was wrong. Maybe what you deserve is a person that isn’t so damaged. Someone who can give you what you actually deserve which is a loving partner who hasn’t hurt you over and over again- a man worthy of being a father to ou- I mean your child.”

His confession and the tears that are streaming down his face are enough for you. Yes, you absolutely want to scream and yell at him, but you also ache for him. You can’t fault the man for being a slave for 200 years and then not taking it very well when you told him what to do. You always knew you would forgive him if he came back- you never thought he would, but here he is and like he said- there is no reason to keep wasting time.

“She is our child, Star,” you whisper and guide his eyes to look at you, “I want you to be involved. I don’t care what you think I deserve either. I have missed you so horribly since you left. It’s almost pathetic really. I’ve tried to blame it on the hormones, but… I don’t know. The picture has felt incomplete up until now.”

You absentmindedly put your hand on your stomach- receiving a kick. You glare at the place where your hand is resting.

“Will you stop kicking me for five minutes!?” You scream, “I WAS IN THIS BODY FIRST!”

Astarion looks at you bewildered and confused, but quickly realizes you aren’t talking about him. The smile that spreads across his face is wide and Astarion gingerly moves closer. You are still a little cautious- needing to protect not only yourself, but also your unborn child. He moves to the right of you and goes to move you just slightly so he can slip in behind you.

“Could I? I mean if it’s not crossing any boundaries!”

Astarion is on edge- you can tell that much, but he doesn’t look at you like he did that last time you saw him- Astarion is looking at you like you are the most precious individual who has ever walked this earth.

You nod shyly, and then Astarion slots himself behind you, your back against his chest, his face in the crook of your neck, and his legs on either side of yours. He cautiously puts his hands on your stomach and is immediately kicked.

Astarion laughs with joy, “she’s strong!”

“Strong willed and strong physically,” you shake your head and you are laughing a bit now too, “you may just get your wish yet.”

“What wish?”

It had slipped. You hadn’t meant to bring it up again- or maybe you did. You want to know for sure if he still feels that way, but the confusion in his voice says he doesn’t. You go rigid and go to dismiss it when you feel his posture change behind you, his grip loosening ever so slightly.

“Right… that.”

The silence is nerve-wracking. You’ve lost him again, you are sure of it. A stray tear begins to roll down your cheek.

“Astarion-“

“No, let me think, Darling. I want to make sure I say everything I want to say correctly.”

You continue to sit there in silence, he places soft kisses on your neck. You feel him smile against your skin at the needy moan that escapes your lips. You absentmindedly reach out for one of his hands and begin to play with his fingers while he thinks. Astarion used to let you do this all the time while you were traveling- it helps you feel grounded.

“I was so consumed by all that power in the moment,” he says slowly, “I wasn’t thinking. By the time I had realized what I had done, I felt like it was already too late- you most likely hated me and moved on.”

You have to bite your tongue- you want to scream. Hate him? Never. You had been miserable without him around for that last month of traveling. Your heart had felt like a dead weight in your chest and you had been moving around like a zombie.

“So I tried to move on… I even tried to be with others, but I just couldn’t do it. It’s selfish, but I want you. I never want anything bad to happen to you- I certainly don’t ever want you to die screaming. I don’t want you to ever carry a child that is not mine.”

You are surprised by the warmth in your core when he says his last sentence. There is something so primal there that you have to really focus on what he is saying next.

Astarion clears his throat before finishing speaking, “I don’t want to be without you anymore- four months is too long. I don’t want to miss out on anymore of your pregnancy and I want to be here for you- with you- doing this together like we should have been doing this whole time. I was a horrible fool- please give me another chance. Please, Darling. I love you- so so much more than I ever thought anyone could ever love someone.”

Astarion’s words hang in the air and you are trying not to begin crying for the 15th billion time. This is what you had wanted to hear all along. You can feel his tears on the collar of your shirt- the way he inhales as if to memorize your scent like this is the last time. Astarion is not expecting you to say yes- you know that because he’s starting to loosen up, pulling away from you so that he can respect your decision.

“I love you too,” you whisper, “I don’t want to be without you anymore either. I forgive you- please stay.”

“I won’t be going anywhere unless you want me too, my Love.”

#baldurs gate 3 #astarion #astarion x reader #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x you #bg3 spoilers #astarion romance #astarion x tav #karlach #bg3 #astarion x f! reader #astarion x f!tav #pregnancy #astarion acunin

[redstarwriting]

his girl | iii. all the riches

earth 42!miles morales x fem!reader | miles morales x fem!reader

word count: 2.5k

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: language, insults, spoilers, probably bad spanish, mentions of guns, bullet wounds, knife wounds, stabbing, shooting, violence, 42 Miles kills people, descriptions of bad injuries, a mild panic attack

a/n: someone take action sequences away from me i write them too damn much LMAO, i hope you all enjoy this chapter! these sequences are fun to write, so i hope it’s just as fun to read 🖤

his girl masterlist

previous chapter: ii. envy me

now reading: iii. all the riches

next chapter: iv. what can make me feel this way?

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The Prowler mask is immediately back on Miles’ face as he runs out of Uncle Aaron’s window and hops down the fire escape. There’s a loud zapping noise, and the chains are completely off of Miles. Aaron looks at him, a little surprise on his face. “What the hell was that?” Miles hears him say, but Miles rushes past him, following other him on the same route he ran a year ago to get away from his uncle. Weird déjà vu moment. That’s not necessarily important in this moment, though.

Miles catches up to Miles in record time, which pisses 42 Miles off, but again, not necessarily important in this moment. What’s important is you, being held by a strange man with a gun to your head. “I recommend you let her go before I make you,” Miles’ distorted voice says, and the asshole holding the gun up to your head laughs. “You owe Kingpin something. You’re supposed to be getting it right now,” he says, twisting your arm behind your back more, causing you to wince and make a pained noise. This makes both Miles’ angry. “Man, you work with Kingpin, too?! What is up with your universe?” Miles mumbles, and Miles hisses. “Cállate! I don’t do it because I want to, I do it because I have to!”

“Who’s the new guy?” one of the other men asks, motioning to Miles. “Name’s Spider-Man, and I’m not a new guy, just visiting. Gotta say, though, if I could leave a Yelp review here, it would not be high. You guys ever consider, oh I don’t know, let’s see–not terrorizing citizens of the city?” Miles says, and one of the goons asks, “What’s a yelp?”

“So y’all have somethin’ called ‘comics con’ but not Yelp? This place is fucking weird.”

“Spider-Man? Tonto,” Miles mutters before addressing the man again. “It doesn’t matter who he is, she has no business in this,” he says. Other Miles scoffs. “Spider-Man is not a silly name. Spider-Man is a cool name,” he mutters as the man laughs. “Seein’ as she walked out of your accomplice's apartment, I’m assuming she means somethin’ to you,” the cartel member says, and the panicked look in your eyes makes Miles want to die. You shouldn’t have gotten involved in any of this, he shouldn’t have let you come to Aaron’s like this, he shouldn’t have let you walk out. Now you’re in danger because of him. He growls, muttering out a “Que te jodan, cabrón.”

“I’ll take that as she means something, then,” the guy chuckles, motioning for his fellow members to come forward. One brandishes a very large, very sharp knife, approaching you. Your eyes widen as one of the others covers your mouth with his hand. You make a muffled noise as the guy with the knife holds it to your throat. You make eye contact with 1610 Miles before looking at your Miles. The two of them, already on edge, are about to jump in at any second. “Maybe we should make an example of her, then. So you know to never try to cheat us again,” the man says, twisting your arm until a loud crack is heard, and you let out a muffled scream, squeezing your eyes shut as tears roll down your cheeks. Miles and Miles hear him cock his gun as the other gets ready to drag his blade across your throat.

Now there are a couple of things you should never do in any universe. One of those things is threatening the love interest of a superhero or a supervillain. Both will end in a bad result for you, and probably end up costing your life in one instance. And another one of those things is piss off Spider-Man to the point where he doesn’t say his corny ass jokes.

And seeing this guy break a (Y/n)’s arm to ‘set an example’ is a way to piss off Spider-Man enough to where he isn’t telling his corny ass jokes.

“I got the guy with the gun and the guy covering her mouth,” Miles 1610 says, low enough for Miles to hear and no one else. “Entendido. I got the guy with the knife,” Miles responds, swallowing his pride and deciding to work with Miles. If it meant saving you, he would do anything.

A silent agreement between them causes Miles to become the Prowler and other Miles to become Spider-Man. Something this world has never seen.

The Prowler leaps at his guy, using one hand to clamp down on his holding the knife, keeping it steady as he uses his claws to do what he was attempting to do to you. At the same time, Miles webs the gun and the man covering your mouth’s hand, yanking both towards him and causing the men to stumble forwards. 42 Miles grabs the knife from the guy he just took down and uses all his force to cut the man who was covering your mouth’s hand completely off. He screams as he falls to the ground, and 42 Miles pulls you out of the way. 1610 Miles promptly delivers a punch to the man with the gun’s face, knocking him down. He breaks the gun in half, throwing it behind him. Then the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He leaps out of the way as one of the other men fires his gun at him, dodging the bullet just in time. Unfortunately, it hits the man he just knocked down straight in the head. He webs that gun, too, swinging it around him and nailing the guy in the head with it. Hard. Miles essentially pistol-whips the man but has no time to rest as more people join the fight.

While 1610 Miles is doing all this, 42 Miles, grabs you, pushing you behind him. “Amor you need to run,” he says, pointing to the fire escape that leads back up to Aaron’s apartment. “If they follow you, you got Aaron to help you. Fuera de aquí. Ahora, We’ll get rid of these assholes, just go!” he explains, frantically, as he powers up his gauntlet, punching one of the men running towards the two of you and sending him painfully flying against the wall of the alleyway. You nod, turning to run, but one of the men was able to get behind you. He grabs you, stabbing the shoulder of your now broken arm with a knife as you dodge out of the way from his attempt at stabbing you in the chest. You yelp. Miles turns around, dodging the man’s attempt to stab him as he pulls out a second knife, before catching his wrist. He digs his claws into him, causing the man to drop the knife and scream out in pain before Miles forcefully pulls his head down to his knee. He crumples to the ground, and Miles immediately assesses the damage of the knife. “Mierda. Amor, change of plans. Stay behind me, Imma keep you safe,” he says, shielding you from the rest of the people.

His eyes widen as he realizes Miles has taken out over half of them, leaving only two people left. Maybe he’s not too bad, after all. “Hey, man, little help here?” Miles yells, and 42 Miles runs forward, keeping tabs on you, as he slices up the second to last guy. The two of them turn their attention to the last person, who has her gun pointed at them, switching between the two before realizing that you were also in range. She quickly turns her attention firing at you, but luckily, she’s a terrible shot. The bullet only grazes the side of your thigh, but both boys flinch, knowing how much that hurts. She then runs towards you after realizing she’s out of bullets, raising her arm to strike you. Both Miles and Miles dart over, but you’ve had enough of this. You were already made beforehand, and now you have a stab wound, multiple cuts, a broken arm, and a bullet wound? These motherfuckers need to know they can’t mess with you just to get to your boyfriend. So, you punch her first. Across the face. Hard. Luckily your dominant arm was the one left unharmed in all of this, even if you felt one of your fingers break on the impact. You still knock out the woman. You look up at the two boys, who are both staring at you with wide eyes.

“Damn, ma.”

“That was actually kinda hot,” both of them speak over each other, and 42 Miles snaps his head towards himself. “Ay, idiota! Don’t call my girl hot.”

“Bro, I am you! I know you thought it was hot, too, because we are the same person!” Miles exclaims, and you huff, grabbing the attention of the boys again. “They were pissing me off, so don’t piss me off even more with this stupid arguing,” you mutter suddenly feeling a rush of panic overtake you from the feeling of a knife in your arm. And intense pain spread through your leg at the sight of the bullet graze wound. “Okay… think I’m gonna faint, now.”

1610 Miles catches you before you even begin to slightly waver, beginning to run up the side of the building to Aaron’s apartment. “How the hell you doing that, man?!” he hears other him yell as he scales the fire escape. “Dude, I told you! I’m Spider-Man! Spiders can do this typa shit,” Miles says, hopping onto Aaron’s fire escape and running through the open window. Aaron points a gun at him before seeing that he’s carrying a very injured you in his arms, quickly ushering him over to his couch.

Miles lays you down as your Miles runs through the open window and right over to your side. “Ay, bendito,” he mutters, assessing the damage. Luckily, the knife you were stabbed with was just a pocket knife. Unluckily, you were stabbed with a pocket knife. You wrap your hand around the handle of the knife, getting ready to yank it out before 1610 Miles stops you. “No, (Y/n), you cannot pull it out yet,” he says, and you gulp. “But–”

“Nah, mi vida, Miles tiene razón. You could bleed out. It has to stay in,” your Miles says as Aaron nods, grabbing a hefty first aid kit. “Yeah, kid. You’ll feel much worse when it’s out, trust me,” he says, handing your Miles a splint for your finger. “Now anyone care to tell the adult in the room just what the hell happened down there?”

“Why didn’t the adult in the room come out to help?” 42 Miles fires back, and Aaron frowns. I was up here with a gun ready to shoot one of them in case they tried to come in here and stael your shit, Miles. Besides, I know you can hold your own, man. And apparently, so can he,” Aaron says, motioning to 1610 Miles. It makes him feel good. He wishes his Uncle Aaron could see him kicking ass like this. But as 42 Miles starts to treat you, other Miles puts those thougts out of his head, grabbing some bandages and disinfectant. He begins treating some of the cuts you received. You wince, and he frowns. “I know it hurts, (Y/n/n), but I gotta do this,” he mumbles, placing bandages over them before moving to the bullet graze wound.

He apologizes before ripping the pants you’re wearing further to get better access to the wound. He gently clears it out, making sure there’s no more fabric left in it. Your Miles holds your hand after aligning your finger, and you squeeze it as other Miles cleans thee bullet graze. He muttered comforting words to you in Spanish, alternating between wiping the tears off your face and kissing them away. 42 Miles watches as 1610 Miles expertly bandages the wound and raises his eyebrows. “You do this a lot?”

“More than I’d care to admit,” he says, shrugging. He looks up at him. “We need to get her to the hospital for the stab wound and the arm.”

“Eres estúpido o qué?! The hospital is run by the cartel,” Miles says, and Aaron solemnly nods. “Look, Miles, I don’t know what type of world you come from, but here it’s dangerous. All the time,” he says, and Miles frowns. “You have no one in this city looking out for people?”

“We did, but… he’s gone now,” Miles says, softer than other Miles has ever heard him speak. You bring his hand you’re holding up to your mouth, kissing it. Aaron’s face turns somber. Miles doesn’t say anything, but he starts getting an idea he doesn’t like very much. “Well… what about mamá? She’s a nurse, just say (Y/n) got jumped or something. She can fix this,” Miles mentions, and 42 Miles slowly nods. “Yeah… yeah that could work. Are you okay with that, mi luna?” he asks you in a soft tone, and you gulp. “How much longer til she’s home?”

“She’ll come home the minute I call her and tell her what happened to you. She’ll think of a good excuse,” Miles insists, and you nod. “Okay. Just… please tell her to make it stop hurting,” you mumble, and he frowns. “Lo siento, mi vida,” he mumbles, and 1610 Miles sighs. “Yeah… me too.” You shake your head. “You literally saved my life, Miles. Both of you. Neither of you have anything to apologize for,” you say, squeezing his hand again. “Miles. I hate to bring this up, but… before you call Rio, we needa be somewhere. Or else the cartel will be after her, you, Rio, and me all over again,” Aaron says, and Miles frowns. He doesn’t want to leave you. Not for anything. Especially not to steal shit for a corrupt asshole like Kingpin. He wants to stay with you. You’re more important tan anything he could possibly steal. But, Uncle Aaron is right. He knows he has to go. “Ay, dios mío. That’s why they came after us in the first place. I’ll be back, amor,” he glances at other Miles with a frown, “Look after her, aight?”

“Does this mean you trust me? Where are you going?”

“I have no choice but to trust you right now. Besides, you helped out down there to save her. Guess you’re cool. But you don’t need to know where I’m going. Just know I’m not going by choice, but out of necessity,” Miles says, his Prowler mask coming back over his face. Miles shrugs. That’s a start in gaining his own trust, he guesses. “I got her. Just don’t die, please. Would be weird trying to explain to ma that I’m her alive son from another universe,” Miles says, and Miles mutters something in Spanish before nodding at Aaron. “Let’s go,” Aaron says, and they make their way out of the apartment.

After they leave, you and Miles sit in a comfortable silence as he looks over all of the bandages, making sure they’re okay. “Care to tell me what happened between us on your world to get my mind off of this?” you ask, motioning to the knife sticking out of your body. Miles sighs.

This is gonna be rough.

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『 his girl tag list 』

@agustdeeyaa @akemiixx01 @angeli-fucking-cat@dani111* @eitaababe​ @fiannee​ @hana-1235 @imaginarydreams @inluvwithneteyam @kdbsr-h* @kezibear @kikookii @korehiiime @laylasbunbunny @lazyotakuofficial @mama-2001 @mividaasi @nightshxdex @notplutos* @papichulo120627 @po55um @ptsmplekaramele @realityshifter111 @rksses @silly-norman @shoyofroyoyoyo @snixx2088 @soy-garbage @sp1derm4nluver  @staravity @storm-enika* @tanchosanke @tenaciousduckpoetry @unforgettble420 @whoisgami​ @yasfrommiles​ @yourfavstalker25789* @zenxvii​

『 itsv/atsv tag list 』

@autismnation @briannaxox* @februarybluues @hearts4hobie @kitsunna4​@smuuchies* @soseoulol​ @stoic0utlaws​​ @tes-conscience*​

*if you are italicized - i am unable to tag you for whatever reason, feel free to reach out and see if we can fix the issue

if you wish to be on either tag list, reach out and let me know! thank you to everyone for the support!🖤

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#miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles morales x reader #prowler miles x reader #spiderman x reader #spider-man x reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #spiderverse #atsv

[redak-ted]

yeah here flowerpunk incorrect quotes for the soul

Miles: I think I'm falling for you. Hobie: Then get up.

Hobie: I've already sent good vibes your way… they’re coming. There’s nothing you can do to stop them. Miles: This is the most threatening way I’ve ever been cheered up.

Hobie: Welcome, fellow idiots Miles: Hello, Hobie Hobie: No, no, not you, you're not an idiot Miles: You underestimate me

Hobie: What’s up guys? I’m back. Miles: What the- you can’t be here. You’re dead. I literally saw you die. Hobie: Death is a social construct.

Miles, struggling to keep upright in their 1 inch heels: Yeah, I-I don’t really think heels are for me Hobie, pointing at them and walking flawlessly in sparkly golden 6 inch heels: WEAK.

Hobie: Stubs their toe FUCK! Miles: Mind your language! Hobie: What else am I supposed to say, “Woe is I”??? Miles: Hobie: You have to accept that swear words are necessary sometimes, Miles.

Miles: This is such a bad idea. Hobie: Then why are you coming along? Miles: One of us need to be able to talk the cops out of arresting us when this inevitably goes wrong.

Hobie: Change is inedible. Miles: Don't you mean inevitable? Hobie, spitting out coins: No, I did not.

Miles, going over Hobie's resume: Okay, so right here, it states that you're creative. Hobie: Yes Miles: Okay…may I know what you create? Hobie: Problems.

Hobie: What if the 'g' in 'gif' is silent? Miles: Go the fuck to sleep Hobie: What gif I don't want to? Miles: Fuck You.

Hobie: Miles! My face is on fire! Miles: Hobie! Are you ok?! Hobie: Oh yes, I'm fine. I just said that to make sure you'd come in here quickly. Miles: But your face is on fire. Hobie: Yes. It's much faster than shaving.

Hobie: Don't stay up all night, Miles. Last time you got this sleep-deprived, you tried to eat your own shirt.

Hobie: Which is correct, seven and five IS thirteen, or seven and five ARE thirteen? Miles: Neither. Miles: Because it's twelve.

Hobie: Three words. Say them and I'm yours. Miles: Three words. Hobie:

Miles: It’s dark in here Hobie: Don’t worry dude I got this Hobie: *Stomps their feet* Hobie: *Skechers light up*

Hobie: You're the love of my life and my best friend, I would do anything for you. Miles: I want you to eat three meals a day and have a decent sleep schedule. Hobie: Absolutely not.

Hobie: In light of what you did for me, you can hug me for four to five seconds. Miles: FORTY FIVE SECONDS?!? Hobie: No! Four to five seconds! Miles: Too late!!!

Miles: Do you think you’d actually notice if someone didn’t cast a shadow? Or if their limbs were just slightly too long? Or if they had just a little too many teeth? like how many times have you passed something on the street and you just didn’t notice It? Hobie: Stay woke monsterfuckers ur love is out there!!!!! Miles: Yknow what? Not my point at all in any way whatsoever, but I’m glad I could be an inspiration

#punkflower #flowerpunk #spider punk #miles morales #hobie brown #hobie x miles #inncorrect quotes

[redhoodinternaldialectical]

Every time I learn something new about Batman: War Games I lose my mind a little bit more cause just, just fuckin, look okay so here's the thing:

Stephanie Brown tries to implement a contingency plan of Bruce's just after he fires her from being Robin and because of that gets tortured to (almost) death and no one knows she survived.

THIS STORY RUNS IN THE NEWS:

So, you know, anyone who might be paying even half a fucking ounce of attention to news about ROBINS would definitely absolutely notice this!!!

And then very very soon afterwards Jason comes back and specifically targets Black Mask to ruin the criminal empire he tortured Stephanie to get

As a way to torment Bruce about the fact that he doesn't take care of the nastiest criminals and they continue killing people

And how Jason should have been the last to die

and SOMEHOW

these two things are in no way related and Jason has nothing to do with or say about Stephanie Brown, fellow Robin, fellow martyred soldier, fellow child dead due to Bruce related villains.

HOLY DEAD SIDEKICKS BATMAN, DO YOU COMPREHEND THE MAGNITUDE OF MISSED OPPORTUNITIES HERE????

please walk with me down a timeline in which:

Lost Days Jason at first just tries to go after the Joker and can't because who he's really mad at is Bruce.

Then he sees Who Really Killed Stephanie Brown and the utter horror of another Robin dying on Bruce's watch (not just dying, but tortured to death!) is what convinces him to try to straight up kill Bruce via car bomb

Roman Sionis is no longer merely a tool against Batman, but another figure to demand vengeance be brought upon, another attempt to give Bruce a chance to right his wrongs and do what needs to be done

The confrontation with him and the Joker being all the more tragic due to how obvious Bruce's answer would have to be once Jason knows Bruce isn't going to avenge Stephanie either

Does Jason, once he escapes the rubble after UtRH is over, kill Black Mask anyways? Does he decide to avenge her himself? Or does he think that she too would demand that of Bruce, and find his death by a different hand unsatisfactory?

If he doesn't kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back, I feel confident he approaches her, tries to reach out to the other dead Robin, almost certainly makes the offer now that he can ask her. Does she take him up on it, gaining an ally and slipping into a far darker role? Does she instead refuse, either appealing to forgiveness or far more interestingly refusing both vengeance and forgiveness? How would Jason handle a refusal, which I gut instinct feel is more likely?

If he does kill Black Mask, then when Steph is back Jason drops his corpse at her feet like a loving housecat with a dead lizard and she has to grapple with her feelings about having someone really and truly avenge her!!! Like how DO you react to someone who you have been warned is wildly dangerous and mentally unstable coming up to you and saying, "I'm glad you're back, like me. I'm sorry you're back, like me. I made sure you could rest knowing he was dead, because I know what it feels like."

Like no matter how each character reacted to this happening there would be so much high stakes emotional shit to explore with both of them!! Revenge I feel like is such a pivotal thing for both characters, they mirror each other in so so many ways, they could be really interesting together if DC would just fucking let them!!!

Jason had a criminal father who he missed and wanted to avenge. Stephanie had a criminal father who she wanted vengeance on.

Jason started off as a fairly gentle soul who progressively became more violent and more hopeless as he was exposed to genuine horrors during his time as Robin. Stephanie starts off violent, angry and rash and finds her own courage and hope through her time as a crime fighter despite of the horrors she's been through.

Jason went to Africa and died there after Bruce failed to save him. Stephanie was taken to Africa via a fake death in order to save her from Bruce and the vigilante lifestyle.

I just...

There's just...

There's SO MUCH HERE I am genuinely fucking confused as to how this is not all deliberate?? And it's all just left on the cutting room floor because for no reason apparent to me they all just decided Stephanie and Jason were not gonna interact!

AAGHHHH!

#jason todd #stephanie brown #dc comics #damian's tomfoolery

[inamindfarfaraway]

I love how Paul's character in The Guy Who Didn't Like Musicals is defined entirely by a lack of desire, or desire defined only as 'not what I don't want'. "What Do You Want, Paul?" is a big joke about what a terrible narrative protagonist he is. But it's deeper than that. Throughout the show, even in the smallest, most insignificant phrasing, this man only ever expresses wants in these negative forms, as if he's incapable of feeling attraction in itself rather than simply avoiding what he dislikes. And only avoiding! He never says that he hates anything, either! That would give him passion, drive, perhaps the goal of actively removing that thing. No, he exclusively uses the verb hate in past tense.

He doesn't like musicals, singing, dancing or public performances. He makes this very clear, to the point that it's one of his most significant character traits. At no point does he ever talk about liking any media.

He doesn't want to do social activities.

He doesn't want to give away his money. About both this and the above, he can provide no logical explanation or moral justification. He just doesn't feel like them.

He always gets black coffee because it has "no cream, no sugar, nothing in it"; that is to say, he might not necessarily love it, merely prefer it over its sweeter or more complex alternatives.

He doesn't believe that Emma should have to sing and dance at work - he doesn't want her life to be so unfair and annoying to the both of them.

He doesn't want to obstruct the workings of his office (saying "that's the last thing I want" triggers "What Do You Want, Paul?").

He says, "I wanna go home!" when Mr Davidson is singing at him, but means that he wants to be somewhere safe and not stuck in this incredibly uncomfortable situation.

He doesn't want to die.

He specifically doesn't want to die in Clivesdale, because fuck Clivesdale.

He doesn't want to join the Hive.

He doesn't want to leave Hatchetfield, even when it's the site of an alien invasion that is his personal worst nightmare. He actually says that "All things considered, I like Hatchetfield", arguably an exception to the standard. However, he's also well aware of the town's flaws and problems. He grew up one of its poorer residents, attending the inferior, underfunded Sycamore High School where he casually admits the students "hated [themselves]" and having to watch its more respectable rival Hatchetfield High's school play. He has no strong investment in his tedious middle-class office job. He doesn't get along with some of his fellow townsfolk, like his coworker Ted and all the employees of Beanies except Emma. He awkwardly evades giving to charity and the homeless every morning on his way to work. His life is decidedly not one of utter bliss, and yet it's good enough for him in that he doesn't have the energy, ambition or imagination to want anything more. Since he's "been here [his] whole life", his affection for his hometown could be more an aversion to everywhere else or the hassle of travelling. Sticking with the devil he intimately knows.

He doesn't think badly of Emma, and says so because he doesn't want her to or believe that he does after learning that she helped make a "hated" experience of his happen.

He doesn't want to let Bill die, which is why he goes with Bill to rescue Alice. His heroism and proactiveness at the turning point of the end of Act One start to notably erode his apathy, but his phrasing reaffirms his negative motivations: "Hey, it's not like you're asking me to go see Mama Mia!", "Emma, there comes a time in every man's life when he has to draw a line in the sand. And I will never be in a fucking musical."

He doesn’t want Bill to blame himself for Alice's endangerment, stay in the area once Alice is revealed to be a vessel of the Hive or kill himself.

He doesn't want to do some light reading on the universal truth of love and the strength of the human heart.

He has no positive motivation. He breaks one of the most basic rules of being a fictional character, let alone the main character the audience is supposed to root for. He isn't just an antihero, he's an anti-protagonist. Although this could easily make him boring or unsympathetic, he manages to seem relatable. Real. Human. He captures so genuinely an ordinary person living an ordinary life suddenly trapped in a horror story. How many of can honestly articulate "one concrete goal that motivates all [our] actions"? Even if you can, you wouldn't undergo a narratively fulfilling and thematically cohesive arc related to that desire the way a fictional character would. We're all essentially just trying to survive each day. To make or keep our lives however we define 'good enough'. We may not have a crystal clear picture of our ideal life, but I bet we all have a long list of things we don't want in it. We're all Paul.

What more appropriate antagonist for this man to face, then, than a force that exists to strip people of their autonomy, their individuality, their personhood, and force them to play archetypical characters in a conventional narrative? The Hive observes that Paul is an anti-protagonist and takes offence to this. It seeks to convert him into his antithesis, the "bold" "leading man" of its musical who the audience can "sympathize with". The Infected highlight this in the opening song, in which they eagerly anticipate and prepare the audience for his entrance... and he misses his cue. He isn't following their script. Perhaps that's why the audience is able to believe in this average, unassuming antihero's potential to succeed, to defeat the Hive or at the very least escape it, despite how fraught and grim the situation becomes. The story certainly proves itself to be cruel to its characters; but Paul doesn't operate like a normal character. The Hive promises to fulfil people's desires and make them happy throughout the play. Charlotte, Bill, Hidgens and Ted's deaths are connected to, either in direct causality or thematic relevance, their respective desires for Sam's love, Alice's safety, world peace (and the glory of a musical career) and Ted's own survival. Paul is uniquely immune to this pattern of death related to a core motivation.

Until:

"I can't leave without Emma”, “a friend of mine."

"Is there a chance of something more?"

"I think so. I'd like there to be. I want there to be."

He wants Emma, her life and her happiness and maybe, just maybe, her love. He wants to love her. To spend time with her. For the first time ever, he wants more out of life, not less. He's a little bit more of a character. After the Infected reprise the "Did you hear the word?" section of the opening song, building up to his appearance, this time he does enter the theatre, coming down the aisle just as he was meant to. Right on cue. Paul is now vulnerable to the narrative - the Hive's narrative. And the Hive's control.

Still he resists, even while doubting if he was ever really happy before. Not only does he use his final words, fittingly, to declare that he doesn't like musicals, but before that he firmly refutes the Hive, and the philosophy behind it and all the pressures and temptatations it might represent: "It doesn't matter what I want." What matters is the good of the world. Emma. Love. Hope. Freedom. Integrity. Humanity, which must be wonderful if we can make sacrifices like this for all the right reasons.

Rest in peace, Paul Matthews. You were the opposite of a conventional protagonist, but a true hero.

#paul matthews #the guy who didn't like musicals #tgwdlm #hatchetfield #tgwdlm hive #hatchetfield meta #tgwdlm meta #tgwdlm analysis #analysis

[catboygretzky]

Exyblr Dashboard Simulator based on what I personally see on sportsblr:

1/?

👑 girlbossriko follow

how many bro jobs do you think it took before riko moriyama and kevin day realized that uh.....maybe this wasn't just a bro thing

👢exyinaphonebooth follow

how many times do they have to come out and say they're like brothers before you freakos stop shipping them

👑 girlbossriko follow

????? do i know u

#it's a tumblr post about two exy players that you'lll never meet in your life it really isn't that deep

558 notes

💃fox-me-up follow

ngl that newest fox is kinda 👀

#psu lb #exy lb

8 notes

👨🏻‍❤️‍💋‍👨🏻 talk-exy-to-me

The NARRATIVE that kevin day and neil josten have........son of exy! scouting the rookie-est of rookies from fuck knows arizona........no listen you dont GET IT winning is EVERYTHING TO KEVIN and he would risk it on the foxes? And NEIL? who has only played exy for a year! NEIL Gets his attention!!!!! And hes good and he's getting better every game and he keeps bitching about kevin's ex on live tv BUT WAIT!???? NOT QUITE WHAT YOU EXPECT! Bc then neil shows up with a number on his cheek BECAUSE WELL it turns out they've known each other since they were KIDS! how is everyone not insane w me THEY'RE LITERALLY PERFECT

#where r my fellow njkd truthers #how r u all not here with me this isnt even the start #kevneil #210 #psu #njkd

102 notes

☀️ usctrojanny

every smiley blonde striker (jeremy knox) needs a brunette wet cat emotional support backliner (jean moreau)

#jerejean #usc trojans #i'm just saying 🤷‍♀️

58 notes

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

did he just......

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

guys please tell me i'm not insane

👸🏻 kevindazed follow

HE'S NEVER BEEN????? SKIIING???? KEVIN WHAT DOES THAT MEAN ?????? KEVIN PLEASE

#i i'm going insane i will literally die if someone doesn't explain this to me HE'S NEVER BEEN SKIING?!!!!

407 notes

🧚 goalie-stan

oh....i'm feeling so weak......it'd sure be nice to have a big strong goalie (renee walker) hold me up (renee if you're free on tuesday i am also free on tuesday.........on tuesday this tuesday, any tuesday?)

#literally passing out just thinking about her holding me don't call don't text i'm busy

84 notes

🌄 softkevinday follow

do u think if u offered kevin day essential oils to heal his hand he'd beat you to death

#it'd be hard for him bc he only has one hand but he could probably do it #legally this is a joke don't do this

284 notes

🗣️ jeremyknoxes follow

feeling normal

215 notes

📜 realexyblog

actually exy rpf is fine, i asked kayleigh day herself and she told me it was fine

112 notes

🐋 sexyexy

'exy is a stupid name for a sport' have you considered that a) i don't care and b) it's named that solely so i can make sex jokes about it

11 notes

🏳️‍🌈 gay4stickball follow

is he, ya know *mimes jerking off* an ncaa exy player

#i don't believe that straight exy players exist

56 notes

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

Andrew Minyard!!!!!!! 🥰🥰 short king!!!!🤏🤏😋😋 Awwwwwwww the scrunkly!!!!! 🤗🤗🤗 My boinky boy!!!!!🥺🥺 Crinkly doo,,,,shronkle scrimblo......🥺🥺🥺 rb if you'd scrunkle!!!!!!! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

📖 sapphic-exy follow

he literally killed someone

🙈 ittybittyminny follow

And? God forbid women do anything

#also no proof he did that #yeah there's proof his twin bro killed someone but that's not the same bc theyre different people #almost killing someone doesnt count

807 notes

🐦‍⬛ edgarallenexy

got told i'm problematic for liking the ravens? THAT'S LITERALLY MY SCHOOL OH MY GOD

2 notes

🌸 softexy

Kevin Day - A Study

#kevin day #psu foxes #palmetto foxes #exy #web weave #poetry #psu foxes #palmetto #edgar allen

378 notes

#i'm not taking criticism bc i am on sportsblr and this is literally what it's like #all for the game #neil josten #kevin day #andrew minyard #renee walker #jeremy knox #jean moreau #aftg #the foxhole court #jerejean #kevneil #the web weave is the most accurate part of this post #exyblr #riko moriyama

[autistichalsin]

*INHALES*

I don't like when people say Halsin is a "generic nice guy" or a "generic hippy type" actually!!!!!!!

Kindness isn't generic! Especially not in the face of trauma! It is fucking hard to be kind in a world that doesn't particularly reward kindness! It is REALLY FUCKING HARD to go through victimization like Halsin faced, rape and imprisonment and war and torture- and still come out of it with a big, selfless, caring heart! It is brave to be abused and then decide to be better, to make the world a warmer, kinder place in any way you can, and in fact to be so devoted to doing so that any shortcoming will devastate you!

Halsin ISN'T just a nice guy, actually! He is a sufferer of trauma, of PTSD and survivor's guilt and loss, who still wants to take care of unloved orphans. Who, in fact, sees their plight when everyone else, even his fellow Druid Jaheira is busy fighting the Absolute. Who wants to protect animals, and the environment itself, and everyone else without a voice, because it is the right thing to do, even if his past has been filled with people who had no interest in doing the right thing to him.

Kindness isn't boring!!!! People take being kind for granted because it's what you're "supposed" to do. And, yeah, of course you're supposed to be kind. But if you go outside and take a look, you'll discover that a lot of people stop doing what they're supposed to do the instant they can do so without consequence. Look how people treat service workers. Look at the rates of child abuse. Halsin says himself, a society should be judged on how it treats its most vulnerable- because a fair number of people who act 'good' are actually waiting for the right person to bully.

Halsin was raped and imprisoned for three years. He lost his entire family. His first childhood friend was cursed. He watched his companions die after a bloody battle and then had to abandon the victims of the curse to rescue the survivors who could make it themselves. He was forced into a leadership position he never wanted. Then, while trying to solve two problems, ceremorphosis and the shadow curse, he was imprisoned again and tortured. And that's just at the start of his part in the game, that's leaving out traumas that can happen to him in branching storylines like if he's Orin's prisoner, or if the Rite of Thorns is completed and he's locked out of his home forever.

It takes a lot of strength to go through that and not give in to misanthropy and cynicism. Yet if the player is an asshole and calls him naive, Halsin says outright- "I outgrew cynicism around the age of 200." And THAT is even MORE difficult than being nice in the face of trauma. WAY harder. Still believing in better after you've been hurt, victimized, abused? Still being able to trust others not to hurt you? It ain't easy, friends.

But Halsin does it. No matter what he goes through, he doesn't stop being kind and he doesn't stop believing that a better world is possible, and that he CAN make the world better, and that he SHOULD make the world better.

There's nothing generic or boring about that. It's a beautiful, moving trait. Maybe it won't resonate with everyone, and that's okay, this post isn't me saying you're "wrong" if Halsin doesn't resonate with you in any way! But he's not boring. He's not generic.

It's just that by definition, what makes him so special is so understated, so hard to understand unless you've had a certain experience, that it's really easy to miss the beauty of it entirely.

#halsin #bg3 #baldurs gate 3

[ohbo-ohno]

i'll eat you whole (ghost x soap)

summary: After a terrible accident during a race, Johnny is left abandoned and lost in the forests of Alaska. While looking for shelter, he’s cornered by a bear.

word count: 10.8k

cw: dark fic!!!, noncon sex, dog hybrid johnny & bear hybrid simon, kidnapping, trans ftm soap, degradation, forced feminization, breeding kink, bloody kisses, spanking, size difference

read on ao3 - see the pinterest board

Johnny hadn’t meant to get lost. He’d meant to win the goddamn Iditarod instead of coming in second for the fourth year in a row, but nothing in his life has gone to plan recently.

Considering how long he’d been training for this stupid fucking race, you’d think his parents would’ve had him running a half decent musher’s sled - you break your ankle one time and suddenly your parents (your managers when you’re an unlucky bastard like him) act like you’ll never run again, sell you off to the highest bidder, and wipe their hands of you. 

Sure Johnny’s injury still flares with pain sometimes, but he’s perfectly capable of gritting his teeth and running through it, like a real racer. He’d even made a full recovery - cleared by a doctor and everything. It’s bullshit he’d gotten stuck with whoever put up the most money.

This year, the highest bidder happened to be some brat human who thought using daddy’s money to buy the best sled and dog shifters meant he could win the Iditarod. Idiot. A bigoted idiot, too, considering how often he’d spoken to Johnny and all the other shifters like they’re actual dogs when they’d shifted into their dog forms. Johnny had been one expectant snap from biting straight through the dumbass’s hand.

Though for as much of an idiot as he was, the brat hadn’t deserved to die. And he especially didn’t deserve to take 13 other people down with him.

Johnny can’t help but shiver at the memory of their deaths. He’d been the only one to survive, and it was pure luck. He’d never been so close to death.

Their musher had taken a shortcut - an unknown, unexplored shortcut - and it cost the rest of them their lives. Johnny can recall the exact moment he realized they were running on packed ice instead of frozen dirt, the way every dog had tried to stop as they all had the same realization, had heard the same deafening crack.

In the end, Johnny was the only one able to sink his claws into the top of the ice, the only one able to scramble out of the freezing lake and back onto solid ground. He’d been quick enough to get the little booties off his paws, lucky enough to flail in the exact right direction. 

He’d tried to pull his fellow racers up, but hadn’t been able to get a firm hold on any of them. They hadn’t been able to calm their panic enough to think, and he hadn’t been strong enough to lift them up with all the struggling. In the end, all thirteen of them died, floating beneath the thick layer of ice.

He’s lost other shifters on the race before, seen frozen corpses as he’s run, but he already knows that the image of his teammates drowning is one he’s going to see for the rest of his life. The whites of their eyes, the cries so pained they nearly sounded human, the scratches and thumps from beneath the ice as the current took them… already, he sees it all when he blinks.

He’d gotten off the ice as quickly as possible, stumbled into an unfamiliar forest on four paws. Now he treks through a frozen forest, body so wracked with shivers that he can hardly walk straight. Every exhale blinds him for a moment, the clouds of white air blocking his sight of everything else white in the area.

He has no idea what to do. Instinct tells him to keep moving, that he can’t give up, but he has no idea how to get back to the track. Between the “shortcut” and the general unfamiliarity of the area, he’s got no way of knowing if he’s even going in the right direction or if he’s just wandering further away. His best hope is that they send helicopters for wounded racers early, and that one spots him from the sky and picks him up. 

Johnny’s not an idiot, he knows the odds of that happening - or of him being alive to see it happen - are slim to none. What he really needs to do is try and find somewhere warm, but that doesn’t exactly seem possible in the frozen tundra of Alaska.

His pessimistic musings are interrupted by a sound - a growl, to his right and from an uncomfortably close distance.

Johnny nearly jumps out of his skin when he sees the bear only a few meters away.

It’s a big beast even on all fours, has to be nearly eight feet tall at the shoulder. Johnny can’t see much but the shape of it, but that’s enough for him to know he needs to get away as soon as possible. 

He’s taken safety training courses for being lost in the wilderness his whole life, knows that if you spot a polar bear you’re supposed to move away as slowly as possible without looking away, never making any sudden or aggressive moves. So Johnny lowers himself a little closer to the ground, can’t help the soft hiss of air through his teeth at the touch of cold ice against his sensitive belly, and shuffles back as slowly as he can with stiff limbs.

If his vision isn’t failing him, the bear tilts its head. It occurs to Johnny that the bear might be a shifter, but if that’s true he should know to put the pieces together that the husky in the snow is probably a lost racer, and the polite thing to do would be to show he’s a shifter too. Of course, there’s always the chance he’s not polite.

Regardless, Johnny continues his slow shuffles backwards. His heartrate kicks up as the bear moves towards him, but it's mannerisms read more curious than aggressive so Johnny forces himself to lay still and not bolt in another direction. He wouldn’t make it very far anyway, not with the chill seeping into his bones the way it is.

The bear’s even more terrifying from flat on the ground, so tall that it blocks out the sun when it stands over Johnny. He bites back a whimper, fights the instinctual urge to show his belly to a clearly stronger animal.

The bear snuffles along his spine, its warm breath sinking into Johnny’s soaked fur. He feels a tongue poke out to stroke against a small cut on his left side, where either a piece of ice or another shifter's claws had gotten him. It’s not bleeding much anymore - Johnny can hardly even feel the sting with the rest of the cold - but the bear licks it several times anyway, almost like it’s cleaning the small wound.

Johnny’s careful to lay perfectly still, nothing more than his ear twitching as the bear continues its perusal. It’s oddly thorough, even goes so far as to try and force its snout underneath his ribs to try and flip him over. Johnny digs his claws into the snow and goes stiff as he can, and a moment later the bear huffs and moves on.

Once it’s finished looking for whatever it seems to want, it starts to shove at him again. This time it’s pushier, and manages to actually lift Johnny’s bottom half off the ground with a particularly rough shove to his hindlegs.

Eventually Johnny has to stand on his own four legs or he’ll be sent ass over teakettle. He moves a few feet in the direction the bear is nudging him, then settles back into the snow with his ears pressed flat.

That gets him an angry huff, one that has his hackles rising. He shuffles another few steps, then drops again, hoping the damn beast will give up whatever it wants - clearly it’s not dinner, or Johnny would already be torn to shreds. But the fact that he’s still got all of his limbs doesn’t make him any less nervous around the absolute behemoth of a bear.

After his third time moving a few feet and dropping, the bear seems to give up on him. It snorts out an aggravated noise and noses the thick fur at the back of Johnny’s neck before grabbing with his teeth and lifting.

All thoughts of no sudden movements fly out of Johnny’s head and he jerks, yelping at the sudden change, and nearly tears himself away from the bear until there’s a snarl above his head.

The sound speaks to a deep part of Johnny’s hind-brain, the animal part of him that commands go still when met with a predator who outclasses him in every way. Even if he wanted to fight and struggle, his body decides to go limp in the bear’s jaws and he’s left feeling like a scruffed pup. 

The bear walks for a long time, Johnny’s body swaying in his hold. Eventually he takes them to a large cave in the side of a nearby mountain - another point for the shifter theory, since even Johnny knows that polar bears tend to burrow underground rather than make their dens in a cave.

He struggles just a bit when the bear walks into the cave, uncomfortable with being so defenseless in a more closed off area. But another of those menacing growls and his brain works against him, body going limp. There’s a rumble against his shoulder where it rests against the bear’s chest, and Johnny idly wonders if bears purr.

The path through the cave is long and winding, the walls slowly getting closer and closer but never so close that the bear can’t comfortably walk through them.

Finally, after what feels like hours to Johnny’s frostbitten brain, the bear steps into a more open cave. There are furs covering the stone floor from wall to wall, several layered over each other in certain spots, and a roaring fire in the center of the room.

That confirms his shifter theory. No true bear is skinning its prey for their pelts, or starting a fire in their cave. The knowledge that he’s (likely) not going to be eaten allows the last few hints of tension to melt from Johnny’s bones.

He flops like dead weight when the bear drops him without warning in front of the fire. He whines a little, shoots a glare at the beast and rubs a paw over his head in discomfort. He gets a snort in response, and then the bear curves himself around Johnny’s back, making sure to angle him so his other side is facing the fire.

As much as Johnny hates to put so much faith into a stranger, he can’t help but feel safe surrounded by the bear’s warmth. He knows he’s an idiot to trust so quickly, but surely no one with bad intentions would drag him all the way across the forest and deep into their cave? It would’ve been easier to just ignore him completely.

So, against his better judgment, Johnny allows the warmth to lull him to sleep. He rests his head on one of the bear’s paws as a pillow, gives them an affectionate huff before letting himself drift off.

———————————————————————

Johnny wakes up, hours later, in his human skin.

That’s normal - depending on his dreams, he’ll subconsciously shift between human and dog as he sleeps. It’s not odd for Johnny to wake up in completely different places after sleepwalking either, so waking up to feel his human cheek against warm furs isn’t a surprise.

The large hands running over him, the weight resting over his thighs? That’s a surprise.

He blinks his eyes open slowly. His whole body feels soft and soaked in warmth, and the idea of moving seems nearly impossible. He can tell he’s still fully clothed - a pair of mukluks on his feet, his arctic bib and long underwear, his ruff jacket zipped up tight, all the layers beneath pressing his tail down uncomfortably. The only things missing are his mittens and his scarf, but his hands feel unnaturally warm without them anyway.

The cave is dark and the walls are far closer than he remembers them being, the ceiling covered in dancing shadows that almost make Johnny forget where he is until he lifts his head a bit. Instead of the wide open cave he’d fallen asleep in, he’s laying in a much smaller alcove that traps all the heat in its walls.

The bear is definitely a shifter - either that or the human straddling Johnny’s legs is an incredible hunter with complete resistance to the cold. 

The fact that he’s a naked human clicks a moment later in Johnny’s head.

“Wha’...” he moans, shifting and trying to move his elbows beneath him and sit up. He’s stopped by a sudden heavy weight over his chest, the man dropping his elbows beside Johnny’s head and giving him his weight to keep him down.

It works, Johnny’s forced back to the fur-covered floor if only because he wasn’t expecting the sudden weight on his chest. The man growls low in his chest, a pure bear sound that vibrates through Johnny.

The shifter’s handsome as a man. Broad jaw, crooked nose, thin lips, pale skin decorated in scars - just Johnny’s type when he’s looking for a night of quick fun. He’s a big motherfucker too, Johnny’s not a small man but he’s dwarfed beneath the bear. 

“Puppy,” the bear gruffs down at him, severe blue eyes set in a glare. He’s intimidating, but the two fluffy white ears twitching in his blonde hair almost make Johnny’s half-asleep brain want to smile.

Then what he’d said registers, and he scowls instead.

“Puppy? Who the fuck are you calling puppy, you big bastard?” He pushes at the bear’s shoulders, grunts when he doesn’t move even an inch. “Get the fuck off of me.”

The bear listens, leans back but keeps one solid hand laid on Johnny’s chest - the damn thing is massive, his thumb and pinky nearly touching each nipple. 

“Still,” he says, his voice so low it’s almost difficult to understand.

Johnny doesn’t listen, keeps squirming beneath the man. “What are you-?”

He huffs, shakes his head a bit. “Quiet.”

Johnny grunts, glaring up at him. “Can you say more than one word at once, or are you gonna keep doin’ your best caveman impression?”

The bear’s upper lip curls and he pushes on Johnny’s chest, knocking the air out right out of his chest. “Quiet. Be a good mate and listen.”

Oh, fuck no.

“Mate? Oh, you’re out of your mind, fuckin’ bastard. I’m not your goddamn ma-“

He’s cut off by another growl and a harsh press of lips against his own. The bear’s weight is back over him, heavy and suffocating and forcing him down with his chest and his face.

Johnny snarls into the mockery of a kiss, lifts his hands to try and shove the bear off by his shoulders. It’s fruitless, and the bear only licks into his mouth when Johnny tries to speak again. His tongue is thick and warm, pressing up against the roof of Johnny’s mouth and between his lips and teeth.

He growls at that, bites down hard as soon as the intruding tongue is back between his teeth. His sharp canines do the trick, and the taste of blood bursts into his mouth. Johnny’s eyes are wide open and he sees the exact moment the bear registers what he’s done, the way his face contorts itself in anger.

The growl he gets in return almost makes Johnny feel like the ground beneath him is shaking, it’s deafening and vibrates through all of his clothes and right to his ribs.

The bear bites him back in retaliation, leans up just enough to lock his own sharp teeth in Johnny’s bottom lip and pulls upwards. It gets Johnny jerking beneath him, lifting up as much as possible to try and alleviate the pressure.

He can’t help but squeeze his eyes shut at the sharp pain, ears pressed flat to his head and just barely managing to keep a whimper locked in his throat. He almost feels like his lip is going to tear right off, his entire torso lifted from the furs as he tries to follow the bear. It fucking hurts.

He can feel blood drip down his chin, a bit into his mouth, and can't resist the whine this time at the taste. He blinks his eyes open and looks up at the bear’s glare, prays that the wetness gathering in his eyes doesn’t turn to tears.

The bear drops him without warning, and Johnny can’t help but cry out when his head cracks against the ground. Even with the fur beneath him, the stone floor is brutal when he can’t catch himself. If he weren’t pinned so securely he’d curl up, cover his head with his arms until the pain faded.

As it is he tries to throw his arms over his face, but they’re quickly pinned above his head by one massive paw. The man’s other hand rests over Johnny’s throat, his palm pushing right against his pounding pulse.

“Mate,” the man growls again, nose nearly brushing Johnny’s when he bends over. “You were wandering around my territory, you belong to me.”

“That’s bullshit,” Johnny spits, lip throbbing. “I was fuckin’ lost, how was I supposed to know this is your territory?”

The bear smiles cruelly. “Not my problem, puppy. You were wandering, alone, in my territory, and now you’re mine. No point in arguin’. I’m keeping you.”

“My arse there’s no point in arguin’!” Johnny thrashes as much as he can beneath the bear’s weight, back arching as he tries to get enough leverage by planting his feet to throw the man off of him. “You can’t just decide I’m your mate! I don’t even fuckin’ know you!”

The man chuckles lowly, pressing his pelvis against Johnny’s to hold him against the furs. “You’re not goin’ anywhere. You can bitch and moan as much as you want, but you’re gonna stay right here in my den, safe and warm. Keep you stuffed full of my cum, maybe that’ll help you calm down, hm? Need a nice load in your guts, pup?”

Johnny’s eyes fly open at that, his heartbeat kicking up another notch as his squirming grows more panicked. “What the- no, what the fuck? Get off, I’m serious, I’ll-”

“You’ll what?” The bear bites the air just in front of Johnny’s sluggishly bleeding lip, the click of his teeth loud and threatening. “You’ll try and kill me? You can’t even get out from under me, pup.”

Johnny growls at that, bares his teeth and on pure instinct leans up just enough to bite the bear’s throat. The skin is warm between his teeth, and he bites down as hard as he can, the animal part of him wanting to taste blood. 

Instead of the man lurching back and away, as Johnny had assumed and hoped he would, he groans and falls further onto Johnny. To his own horror, he can feel the man hardening against his thigh, even through all the layers of clothing between them.

He bites harder, growls and squeezes his eyes shut while he shakes his head like he would to a rabbit he’d just caught hunting. It doesn’t do anything to the bear, only has him working his hips against Johnny. The moans rumble so loudly in his throat that Johnny’s teeth feel like they’re vibrating in his mouth and leave his gums and tongue tingling.

The bear’s hand moves from his throat up to his face, cupping one cheek in his palm. His hand is so large that his thumb rests on the cleft of Johnny’s chin while his fingers cup the back of his skull, nearly wrapping around to the other side. He doesn’t even try to pull Johnny off, only holds him securely in place.

That gets a little confused noise from Johnny, and when the larger man doesn’t do anything but seemingly appreciate his attack he lets go and reverts to trying to struggle away. The spot he’d been biting glows bright red in the firelight, a clear ring of indentions and individual teeth marks so deep that they’d be impossible to mistake as anything else.

To his own frustration, the bear looks pleased above him. “Already claimin’ me, huh?”

Johnny sputters, rearing away from the man and his grinding hips. “Claiming? Fucking attacking, you goddamn oaf.”

Another rumbling laugh. “You think that’s an attack?” The bear’s hand shifts to give Johnny’s cheek a condescending pat. “That’s real cute, pup. Don’t think I’ll mind so much if you wanna keep attackin’ me, then.”

The nonchalance has Johnny’s temper flaring more than it already was, his booted feet scrabbling against the furs as he tries to rip his wrists away from the man. “You fucking arsehole-!” He grunts when his hands are freed without warning, the weight over his chest disappearing. 

He’s quick to throw himself back and away from the bear, hitting the wall of the cave and bringing his knees up to his chest.

The bear somehow looks bigger than he had hovering over Johnny. He blocks the one opening out of the small cave, the roaring fire casting a warm glow around his body. His skin is pale, nearly snow white, and covered in a myriad of scars - claw marks, bites, what might be arrow wounds, what are definitely bullet wounds, all sorts of markings covering him from head to toe. 

The way he sits - knelt back on his ankles, knees spread wide with his arms crossed - leaves his cock on display. Hard as Johnny might try not to look, it’s right there. He can’t exactly avoid it.

His cock is thick and ruddy, rock hard despite the little stimulation he’s gotten from himself or Johnny. It curves straight up toward his stomach, nearly touching the bear’s belly button. If Johnny had to bet, he’d guess his fingers wouldn’t touch if he grabbed around the shaft. His balls hang low and heavy between his legs, and Johnny can trace a vein on the underside of his shaft even from several feet away.

He has to fight to tear his eyes away from the bear’s lower half. The man’s got another thing coming if he thinks he’s getting that weapon anywhere near any of Johnny’s holes.

The bear’s wearing a small smirk when they lock eyes and Johnny’s cheeks go red at being caught staring.

“No need to be embarrassed, puppy,” he chuckles, shifting to rest more fully on his heels. “You can look all you want. Gonna be inside you real soon, might as well get used to it.”

Johnny scowls at that, pushing himself further into the brick wall. His ears twitch where they’re pointed forward, and he has to make a conscious effort to keep them from pinning flat to his scalp. “In your goddamn dreams. You’re not putting anythin’ inside of me.”

The man’s smirk grows. “That a challenge?”

“It’s fucking true! I’m not letting some hermit in the middle of nowhere fuck me! We’re not goddamn mates, you’re just some freak who found me in the forest after the worst goddamned day of my life, that doesn’t give you any right to-”

“Alright,” the bear sighs heavily, speaking over Johnny’s continued ranting. “Don’t get yourself so worked up.” He leans forward, arms uncrossing and ignoring the way Johnny jerks away.

“What’re you-? Hey!” He shouts when the bear grabs his ankle, tugging firmly so his leg is laid flat, then working to loosen the laces keeping his boots tight. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He tries to kick the bear in the chest with his free foot, but it’s batted away like nothing more than an annoying fly. “Calm down,” the man grunts, finally getting the first boot undone and tossing both it and his thermal socks over his shoulder, then grabbing Johnny’s other foot and working on it. “Need to get you out of all these damn layers. Has it even occurred to you you shouldn’t be out in the snow if you need all this with you?” He looks strangely disapproving as he gets the other boot off.

“No,” Johnny grunts, wriggling like a fish on a line as the man moves up to his jacket. “Because I don’t take advice from fucking kidnappers who live in caves!”

The man grunts as he starts unzipping Johnny’s jacket, ignoring the hands desperately trying to shove him off. “You will now. You’ll listen to your mate when he tells you to do something, won’t you?”

“No!” Johnny bellows, red in the face from anger. The laugh he gets in response only has him shouting again, his struggles hindered as the man yanks his jacket off and temporarily gets his arms stuck. “I’m not gonna listen to shit you say!”

“Oh, you will,” the bear rumbles. It sounds more like a promise than a threat. “You’ll learn that things will go easier for you when you listen.”

“Oh will they?” Johnny snarls sarcastically, baring his teeth when the man tucks his jacket to the side and starts to work on his arctic bib. 

“Yes.”

“No! They won’t! Because I’m not fucking staying here! And will you quit trying to get me fucking naked?!”

The bear huffs a laugh, pulling the top half of the bib down so it hangs over his thick pants, leaving just a long-sleeved shirt on his torso. His tail unfurls beneath the shirt, folded uncomfortably beneath his body. “You’ll overheat in all these layers. The den is more than warm enough to keep you comfortable, no need for your silly human clothes.”

“There is a need!” Johnny grouses, finally lifting his foot enough to plant it firmly on the bear’s chest and keep him back, even for just a moment. “It’s my need to keep myself covered from a pervert like you!”

“Pervert, freak, hermit, kidnapper… not very kind names for your mate, pup,” the bear hums, one hand lifting to hold Johnny’s ankle loosely and running his thumb over the top of his foot. “The locals call me Ghost. But you can call me Simon.”

Johnny scowls again, the expression carved deep into his face at this point. “I’ll call you whatever I fuckin’ want.” He runs through his knowledge of local legends mentally, but the name Ghost doesn’t ring a single bell. If he’s actually known at all, it can’t be by much more than one or two tiny towns. 

“Sure you will,” the man smiles, leans forward into Johnny’s space and tightens his grip on his ankle. “I’ll call you whatever I want, too - mate, puppy, mutt, bitch, hole, fucktoy…”

Johnny’s sure steam must be coming out of his ears as he pulls his leg back and kicks the bear - Simon - solidly in the chest. It doesn’t even make him flinch, and Johnny only manages to frustrate himself more, ears straight up in his anger. “Oi, fuck you! I’m a fucking person, not just some thing for you to take and keep, you big bastard!”

“Take and keep and fuck,” Simon corrects, the grin on his face sharp and mean. He shoves Johnny’s foot out of the way, crawls forward until he can lean both hands on either side of Johnny’s head and block his view of anything else. “Now, what should I call you, hm?”

“Nothin’,” Johnny growls, ducking his head low to avoid being nose-to-nose with the man. He’s so hot in close proximity like this, it’s almost suffocating. “You should let me go.”

“Let you go?” Ghost purrs, one hand moving from the wall to Johnny’s neck and stroking the tan skin there. “Out in the cold again? Thought you were lost, pup, you want me to send you out there all alone to find your way back to town? Send my puppy wandering out in the snow?”

“You could give me directions to the nearest town,” Johnny counters, not allowing himself to work up any hope that the bear was doing anything more than playing with him. Still, he can’t help but glance up through his lashes to watch his  expression. It’s mocking, like he’d expected but naively hoped against. He curses himself for the spark of disappointment in his chest.

“Nearest town’s miles away. I’m not makin’ that trip just to get rid of my pretty new mate.” Ghost ducks his head down, burying his nose in Johnny’s mohawk in between his ears and breathing deeply. “No, I’m gonna keep you right here with me. You’ll be just fine.”

Johnny can’t help but shudder. In this position - bent in half, legs folded up to his chest, big naked behemoth of a man covering him - he feels oddly submissive and vulnerable in a way he usually doesn’t. It’s been a while since he wasn’t one of the top dogs in a pack, and he finds he deeply dislikes being lower on the totem pole. He has to fight the urge to tuck his tail, only really managing to resist the urge because it’s trapped beneath his body.

“You don’t even know me,” he tries to argue, fighting back a flinch when the face against his head moves down to his cheek, hot breath gusting over his face.

“That can come later. Why don’t you start by telling me your name, huh pup?”

He doesn’t want to. Giving Simon his name, obeying his command, feels too much like giving in for his comfort. But the other names he’d used… mutt, bitch, fucktoy… he has to fight back another shudder at the thought of being called any of those words again.

“Johnny,” he finally says, voice hardly more than a whisper in the shadowy cave.

“Johnny,” the bear repeats, voice dropping lower and rumbling through the side of Johnny’s head. “That’s good, puppy. Good boy for listenin’.”

He just barely manages to trap a whine in his throat, eyes squeezing shut for a moment at the praise. 

“Now,” Simon continues, finally leaning back and nudging Johnny’s chin up with the hand not against the cave wall. “Let’s get the rest of these clothes off, hm?”

“No,” Johnny grunts when both of Ghost’s hands drop to the laces of his pants and make quick work of loosening them. “I don’t- stop, you can’t-”

His words go ignored and his thick pants are pulled down quickly, left abandoned to Simon’s side as he then starts on pulling the arctic bib the rest of the way.

The only things left to cover him now are the long underwear and shirt, but he already feels naked. Johnny forces himself to start fighting again, trying to push at Ghost’s shoulders and keep him away. His tail wraps tight around his thigh, fur rising in fear.

“No,” Ghost scolds, catching both of Johnny’s hands in his and holding them still. His glare is stern, but not mean like it had been earlier. “Stop struggling, pup. Let your mate do what he wants.”

“No,” Johnny protests, his voice weaker than it was before. “I don’t want you to touch me, just… just let me be, okay? I’ll find my way to town on my own, you don’t even have to give me directions!”

Ghost sighs, shifting both of Johnny’s wrists to one hand and cupping his throat with the other. “Johnny,” he rumbles, thumb stroking over his pounding heartbeat. “How many times do I have to say it? There’s no point in fightin’ me like this. You’re not going anywhere. You’re gonna stay in my den, let me fuck you, and I’ll take good care of you.”

Johnny can’t help but whine a little, unable to break eye contact with Simon. “I don’t want to.”

“I know,” Ghost hums. “But you will. And you’ll see how good it can be when you behave.”

He lifts his hand enough to pat Johnny’s cheek, seemingly done with the conversation. “Now, no more arguin’ and whinin’. We’ll see if a good dicking helps with your attitude at all, hm?”

Johnny’s never felt quite so much like a doll as he does when Simon removes the rest of his clothes. No matter how much he writhes and complains, he’s still stripped naked and left bare beneath the shifter, struggling limbs held out of the way like they’re nothing more than a slight annoyance.

Ghost hums as he sits back again, takes a long look down Johnny’s body. He tries to cover his groin, self-conscious under the bear’s probing stare, but his hands are caught and held to the side of his body by just one massive paw. 

“No, no,” Ghost chides, tone light despite how secure his hold is. “I wanna see your pretty body, pup. You got nothin’ to hide from me.”

Johnny whines a little at that, squirming as Simon slowly pushes him down to lay flat against the furs. The bear slides one knee between his legs, nudging them wider and leaving his sensitive core open to the air.

“Oh, look’it you,” he coos like he’s seeing something cute, keeping Johnny’s hands pinned as he leans down and noses at Johnny’s stomach, taking big huffing breaths in and slowly making his way lower. “You’re so soft here, pup.” He praises, running his nose over the meat of Johnny’s cunt.

“S-stop,” Johnny whines, hips shifting against the furs to try and move away. “Don’t- don’t touch me.”

“Hush,” Ghost says, leaving a hot kiss where he’d been nosing and ducking a little lower, tracing Johnny’s folds with his nose and breathing in deep. “Let me get to know your pretty pussy, gonna be spendin’ quite a bit of time with her.”

Johnny whines at that, high and loud, echoing against the stone walls. “Not a- not a her.”

“No?” Ghost laughs a little, spreading Johnny’s legs wider and settling himself between them. “She’s pretty like a girl. Pink like a girl. Nice and clean for me like a girl, not furry or messy at all. Let’s see how she tastes.” He laves his tongue, thick and warm and wet, up Johnny’s center from hole to clit. “Yeah, she’s sweet like a girl, too.”

Johnny whines again at that, eyes squeezed shut and a little teary. He can feel sparks of pleasure low in his belly, sharp and unwanted. “Please,” he tries, incapable of much else when Ghost licks a few times at his clit.

“Hm?” The bear rumbles, the noise vibrating through his sensitive nub and straight to his head. Johnny whimpers again. “Please what, pup? Please lick her again? Y’think she wants that?”

He does just that, mimics his movement exactly and adds to the gathering wetness at Johnny’s hole. As much as he fights it, the action feels good and Johnny goes a little boneless against the furs. He keeps his eyes closed, isn’t quite brave enough to look down at Ghost between his legs. His tail falls limp, resting next to him, but his ears stay pinned to his head in fear.

“Y’like that?” Simon rumbles, his thumb stroking over both of Johnny’s wrists slowly. “She sure does. Gonna focus on keeping her happy for a bit, I’ll come back to you later, alright pup?”

He doesn’t wait for Johnny to answer - he doubts he’d have been able to - and instead dives tongue-first into Johnny’s core. It doesn’t take long for Ghost to warm him up, the rhythmic work of his tongue against Johnny’s little cock enough to have him dripping slick in moments. 

He moves a little lower to tongue at Johnny’s hole, thrusts shallowly in and out and scoops any slick he can into his own mouth. Johnny’s reduced to just a moaning thing beneath him, hips writhing as his body and mind war between the urge to get closer and further at the same time. Ghost’s nose rubs right against his clit when he works at Johnny’s hole, and the dual stimulation leaves him slack-jawed and moaning.

Ghost’s free hand creeps from his thigh up to his cunt slowly, so slowly that Johnny hardly realizes it’s moving at all until there’s a finger right at his hole. He can’t help but jolt when the finger presses in, the sudden feeling only heightening his arousal. It’s an unexpected stretch - just one of Simon’s fingers is at least as thick as two of Johnny’s.

“Need somethin’ to clench on,” Ghost mumbles, almost to himself more than to Johnny. 

Or, it hits him a moment later, not to Johnny at all. Just to his cunt.

He nearly wails at the realization, the mix of humiliation and the feeling of that finger curling inside of him a cocktail of sensations that has him inching closer and closer to an orgasm.

“There ya go,” Simon soothes, giving his clit languid strokes with his tongue. “We’ll get you off once, then work on stuffin’ you full of me. Attagirl.”

Tears slip down Johnny’s face as another finger slides in, the stretch not quite painful but definitely noticeable. His hips grind down on the intrusion against his own will, the constant flicks against his clit crossing every wire in his brain. His eyes stay closed, the dark a comfort when he feels so untethered.

“Let's find your sweet spot,” Ghost murmurs quietly, his fingers crooking and searching inside of Johnny. The burn of the stretch leaves him mewling, toes curling against the furs. Ghost hums, gives his clit a few sucks to quiet him down a bit, reducing him to just pants.

Then, without warning, Simon’s fingers zero in on Johnny’s g-spot and press.

His back arches automatically, a loud cry tearing from his throat when Ghost only presses harder at his reaction, giving the bundle of nerves heavy rubs and milking Johnny’s pleasure. He wraps his lips around his clit, sucking hard and long.

“There she is,” he rumbles around the nub. His voice vibrates through Johnny, sending him reeling.

“Oh, oh, please- please, please, please, fuck, that’s- oh God-” Johnny babbles, body tense and pleasure ridden as every part of him fights to get away from the overwhelming sensation. Ghost’s fingers don’t let up, the pressure more than Johnny’s ever felt before, and he flicks his tongue over the clit locked between his lips. He’s never felt pleasure like this, has no defenses against the way it ravages his body.

“Fuck- fuck! Simon, please, oh, oh G-God, oh, fuck, fuck…. Please!” Johnny shouts, eyes flying open to stare at the stone ceiling as he’s finally thrown off the precipice he’d been hovering over, pleasure wracking every limb and racing through every nerve. He moans loud enough to echo as his body slowly goes limp against the furs, muscles weak like all of his strength has drained from his cunt.

The pressure against his g-spot slowly eases as Ghost slips his fingers out of him, his lips releasing his clit. The bear sits up and releases his wrists, letting both of his own hands rest against Johnny’s thighs and giving him a few squeezes.

Johnny blinks bleary eyes open, drawn to the bear’s face against his will. The man looks nothing but smug, chin soaked and eyes bright.

“Hey, Johnny,” he breathes, leaning down and moving his hands to rest on either side of Johnny’s head. He hovers right above him, breath ghosting over his face in warm puffs. “That feel good, comin’ for me?”

Johnny makes a little complaining sound, not quite capable of speech yet. His ears flick out to the side, reflecting the weird mix of displeasure and satisfaction he feels.

“Aw,” Ghost clicks his tongue, dips just low enough to press a closed-mouth kiss to Johnny’s lips, unbothered when it’s unreciprocated. “Yeah, I know it did. You taste real sweet, love. Gonna have you for dessert every night.”

Johnny huffs at that, the reference to a future together dragging his brain back down to his body. He doesn’t have a chance to get himself worked up as Ghost keeps pressing kisses to his lips. He shifts a bit every few kisses, decorating his cheeks and chin too. His lips brush nearly every inch of Johnny’s face, leaving him blushing and a little soft.

This- this isn’t so bad. Johnny doesn’t mind the kisses, the warmth and the pleasure. But the idea of Ghost trying to sheath that cock inside of him… just the thought has him whimpering a little, eyebrows furrowing.

“What?” Ghost whispers, lifting himself just enough to meet Johnny’s eyes, bumping their noses together. “What’s got you cryin’ now?”

Johnny inhales deeply, doesn’t feel any better when it shudders into his lungs and whooshes right back out.

“Please,” he tries, voice quiet between the two of them. “Please don’t fuck me.”

Ghost sucks his teeth, his face a horrible mix between smug and condescending. “Aw, puppy,” he shifts his weight, one hand moving to stroke his cheek. He doesn’t do much actual stroking, considering how large his hand is compared to Johnny’s face. “‘Course I’m gonna fuck you. It’s what good mates do, hm? Gotta give you a few cubs.”

Johnny whimpers at that, a little pained sound at the image that conjures.

“No?” Ghost coos, tapping once with his thumb. “You want a litter of pups, then?”

Johnny’s voice cracks on a sob, a horrible hurt sound punching from his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut against the humiliation, turning his head to the side and pressing his face into the furs.

“Aw, pup,” the bear whispers, nose nudging at the cheek available to him. “You’re alright, you’re alright. You’ll like it, promise. I’m not gonna hurt ya, you’ll be taken care of here. Gonna make such a good daddy, I don’t even care if they come out as silly little mutts like you.”

It’s a conscious effort to breathe. His chest hitches on every inhale, and his nose is blocked up from all the crying. His throat burns. He can hardly think.

“Needed a mate for a while now,” Ghost continues, speaking into Johnny’s skin. He alters between kissing and licking, but never leaves more than an inch of space between his lips and Johnny’s head. “Knew it, but there’s no one around any good to raise my cubs. But I think you’ll do well, won’t you?”

“No,” Johnny finally says, voice weak. “No, no, I don’t want… you can’t.”

“You’ll look even prettier,” Ghost continues, heedless of Johnny’s whine. “Round with me and mine, soft and perfect for me. Maybe these will swell up a little.” His hand strays to Johnny’s flat chest, fingers working at his nipple. Little pinches and pulls, a bit of pain that still manages to feel good.

“Stop,” Johnny tries again, tears slipping down his nose again. Every exhale is shaky, a little whimper in his breaths.

“I’ll provide for you, don’t worry.” His fingers massage Johnny’s pec, like he’s trying to coax something out of the nipple. “Take such good care of my mate. Get him whatever he wants, never let him leave…” Ghost’s voice dips so low that it’s near incoherent as he licks broad stripes up the side of Johnny’s face between sentences, words almost slurred. “You’ll be perfect.”

Johnny can’t hold back the sobs anymore, one ripping from his throat against his will and unblocking the dam he’d built in his head. He’s left nearly bawling into the furs, body tense as a bowstring, eyes stinging, ears flat and tail tucked. He can’t even begin to imagine how pathetic he looks.

“Oh, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, a little bit of clarity reentering his voice. “Alright, sweetheart, deep breaths. I think you need a fucking, hm?”

“No-ooo.”

“Hush, you’re alright, A nice cock in your cunt will make you feel better, I promise. Just need to give you what you deserve. On your stomach for me now.”

He’s already halfway there, it doesn’t take much work for Ghost to flip him entirely. He hefts Johnny’s hips up like he’s a doll, settling him so his knees are spread wide but his weight is left on his chest and face, pressed into the furs. He ends up with his face buried in his folded arms, tears dripping down to the floors

“Hips up, puppy, c’mon. Present for me.”

Johnny doesn’t listen but that doesn’t deter Simon from pushing on the small of his back, forcing his hips higher into the air and leaving his holes displayed. Ghost tsks at the way Johnny’s tail is tucked, blocking all of his vulnerable spots. 

“No hiding, now,” he chides, tugging his tail out of the way just roughly enough to make him yelp. Simon holds it by the base, keeps him from tucking it again immediately with a firm grip. “There we go, look how pretty,” Ghost hums, stroking his free hand fully down the split of Johnny’s body, spreading his slick. “Nice and soaked for me.”

“Not-” Johnny hiccups, trying to take a deep breath. “Not my fault.”

There’s a laugh behind him, loud in the small alcove and just patronizing enough to make Johnny’s heart sink even further. “No? I think it is, pup. Who else’s fault would it be?”

“You. Can’t-can’t help it when you keep touchin’ me.”

He knows it’s the wrong thing to say as soon as Ghost rumbles a low, pleased sound. “Can’t help it? Can’t help that you’re so needy, such a slut for my touch?”

Johnny whines, tail flicking nervously in the air.

“Oh, you’re sweet, pup. Real sweet. Your puppycunt just can’t help getting wet for her mate, yeah? She knows who she belongs to, knows ‘m gonna take real good care of her.”

Johnny bites his lip to hold back the whine, his sharp canine digging into the cut Simon left and reopening it. He focuses on the drops of blood dripping to the furs, tries not to think about what Ghost is saying, but it burrows deep into his head. He can feel his cunt twitching, clenching around nothing.

“Don’t worry, I won’t make you suffer much longer - what kinda mate would I be if I left you empty when you’re dripping for it? I’ll take care of you, pup, just relax.”

As much as Johnny hates everything that’s happening, hates everything that’s brought him to this moment, he can’t help but feel the tiniest bit grateful when Ghost slips two fingers into him instead of his cock. He’s still not sure he’ll be able to take it, but if Ghost is going to make him… he’s at least glad for the stretch.

Simon rubs one hand over the curve of his ass while the other scissors two fingers inside of him, his goal to stretch instead of getting Johnny off. It doesn’t make much of a difference for him, he still can’t help but rock his hips against the bear’s hand, unable to resist more of the heady pleasure.

Ghost laughs over his shoulder. “Need it that bad, huh? Be patient, Johnny. Just gotta wait a little longer.”

He whines into his arms, eyes squeezed shut. Even he’s not sure if he’s whining for more or less, but he can’t let himself think about it. He unintentionally sinks into a deeper arch, leaning more weight on his knees and spreading his cunt further, baring himself more for Ghost.

“Good boy. Just relax for me, I’ve got you, pup.”

He slips a third finger in and Johnny tries to breathe through the stretch, just barely managing to keep from moaning. The tang of blood on his tongue is a good distraction, but not enough to keep him from panting like he’s run a marathon. He can’t help it, Ghost’s fingers feel good in a way no one else ever has. He can’t imagine what his cock will feel like, barely managing to hold back a shiver at the thought.

Eventually, Ghost pulls his fingers out of Johnny. There’s an almost obnoxiously loud sucking sound, and a pleased rumble from Ghost as his free hand moves to stroke the base of Johnny’s tail softly, leaving him squirming.

“Taste so good, pup. Can’t believe I got so lucky with you.”

Johnny whimpers, shifting his weight from side to side to try and ease the slight ache in his knees. It doesn’t occur to him until he hears Simon moan that he’s literally waving his holes in front of the man’s face. 

“Hungry fuckin’ bitch,” Ghost nearly snarls, voice pitching lower. “Need cock so bad, don’t you? Need your puppycunt filled? Huh?”

He lands a heavy slap on Johnny's backside and he can’t help but cry out at the sudden flare of pain, the sting quickly fading into a burning that travels right to his clit. He whines, lifting his head just enough to glare over his shoulder.

Simon looks nearly as wrecked as Johnny feels - his cheeks are flushed and his chest heaves, panting breaths audible in the otherwise silent cave. He’s got a hunger in his eyes that makes Johnny shiver, makes his tail twitch to tuck between his legs again.

“Nuh-uh,” Ghost scolds, gripping the appendage and yanking with just enough force to make Johnny yelp. He instinctually claws at the furs, lifting himself up to try and pull away from the sharp pain at the base of his spine. “What did I say about hiding, huh? Can’t fuck you if you’re tuckin’ your tail, pup.”

“That’s- that’s why-” Johnny tries to argue, teeth gritted, but he’s cut-off by a series of blows, forcing him further into the furs to try and escape the blooming pain. He makes a humiliating sound somewhere between a snarl of rage and a whine of pain, eyes flying wide open.

“That’s why what?” Ghost growls, landing a smack across the center of his ass, nearly clipping his soaked folds. “That’s why you’re doin’ it? Then why are you moanin’ like a whore, huh? Your hole’s dripping, Johnny, you’re gonna stain my furs and you want me to think you don’t want it?”

Johnny can’t speak, can only make choked, pained sounds as Simon continues his barrage. His hand is so big compared to Johnny, he covers nearly his entire ass on every spank. Johnny wants to roll over, wants to tuck his tail and show his stomach, but he knows that would only make everything worse.

“I’ve been real lenient with you, let you sit there doin’ nothing but bitchin’ and moanin’, but my patience isn’t endless, Johnny.” Simon grips his flaming cheek, digging his nails into the irritated skin and drawing a high whine from the smaller man. “All you have to do is lay still and let me fuck a little into you, and you can’t even do that right?” He scoffs, lands another blow against the meat of Johnny’s ass.

“I’m-” Johnny gasps, burying his face into the furs. “I can’t- fuck, stop!”

“Why should I? You’re still soaked, mutt. Doesn’t seem to matter much to your cunt if I’m wailin’ on you or pettin’ you. This what you need to start being sweet for me? Huh?” He reddens Johnny’s ass on nearly every word, leaving him wiggling in place and trying to crawl away. The hand anchored around the base of his tail is the only thing keeping him within arms reach, and the sharp pain leaves tears leaking down Johnny’s cheeks. “Need me to be mean for you to learn your manners, is that it?”

“No-no!” Johnny manages to get out between whines. He tries to breathe through the pain, but Simon layers his smacks in just the right spot to hit a tender area on every impact, and the effect leaves Johnny wanting to scream.

“Then where are they, huh? I’ve been good to you - stretched you out, ate your little cunt, even got you off. Didn’t get any thanks, did I?”

His palm shifts lower, focusing on the crease where Johnny’s thighs meet his ass. Simon’s fingers clip his folds on nearly every smack, leaving Johnny jolting around to try and get away and yelping at the pain.

It takes him a minute to get what Ghost’s asking for, but once he understands he doesn’t hesitate to give it. He can’t even bring himself to care about the humiliation of it all, only wants the pain to stop.

“Th-thank you!” He nearly shouts, eyes squeezed shut against the pain, ears pressed so tight to his skull that they nearly ache. “I’m sorry, so sorry, I just- fuck, please! Thank-thank you, thank you!”

“There you go,” Ghost rumbles, his hand immediately switching from smacking to rubbing across the whole of Johnny’s backside, shushing his whine. “Was that so hard?”

Johnny keens loudly, shoulders shaking as he tries to hold back his sobs.

“We’ll make a good boy out of you yet. C’mon now, back up on your knees.” Ghost slips a hand between his thighs, pushing Johnny’s stomach up and simultaneously tugging on his tail to urge him back into his position. He goes with minimal struggling, far too raw to fight anymore, left only with the instinct to avoid anything that could get him in more trouble with the bear

“There you go, attaboy,” Ghost praises, finally releasing Johnny’s tail and laying it across his back. “Bein’ good for me now, huh? Thought you mighta had a little more fight in you, Johnny.”

There’s a part of him that growls at that, that snarls and bites and proves that he does have more fight, that he’s not easy prey. But the larger part recognizes a stronger predator when it sees one, and urges Johnny to listen. That’s the voice that wins out, and he whines when Ghost laughs.

“Still wet for me, huh? Such a good mate, Johnny. Gonna give you a reward for learning, alright? Hush, pup, don’t whine. It’ll be good, I promise.”

Johnny sniffles, rubbing his nose into the furs beneath him. He whimpers when he feels something hot press against his hole, knows that it can only be Ghost’s cock.

“Be good,” Ghost says, then slowly begins to force his way inside.

Johnny feels like he’s being broken, like he’s being cleaved down the middle. He moans lowly, more pain than pleasure now as the stretch begins to hurt. He wants to crawl away, wants to dig his claws into fur and stone until he escapes the incessant push of Simon inside of him.

The bear moans loudly behind him, voice echoing through the cave as his head pops fully inside. “Fuck.”

More tears slip down Johnny’s cheeks. The push is endless, a constant pressure against his hole, the cock pushing into parts of him nothing’s ever touched. He throbs with need, his clit almost burning from neglect. He just barely manages to keep himself from reaching down, some last part of him clinging to what little dignity he has left.

“T-tight,” Ghost grunts, hips bucking forward with just enough force to make Johnny shout and push up from the furs at the shock of pain. “Fuck, you’re fine pup, get back down.”

Johnny whines at the command, but obeys when a heavy hand lands between his shoulder blades.

“There you go, good boy. Just… fuck, squeezing me so tight. Just let me fuck you, alright? I’ll get you off too, just gotta… just gotta be patient f’r me.”

Johnny’s hardly able to understand what Simon is saying, most of the words fluttering in one ear and out the other. He’s too focused on the invasion of his body, the internal betrayal as he only grows more wet between the thighs. He can feel himself fluttering around Ghost, both of them moaning every time he clenches down on the thick shaft against his will. 

Finally, mercifully, Simon bottoms out. His balls are hard against Johnny’s cock, but they feel perfect when Ghost grinds himself deep, the head of his cock nudging Johnny’s cervix. He yelps at the first hint of pain, jerking in the furs.

“Shh, shh…” Ghost soothes, stroking down Johnny’s spine in long, slow motions. “You’re alright, deep breaths, pup. I know, it’s a lot of cock for a little thing like you isn’t it?”

Johnny whimpers, nodding into the furs.

“Yeah, you’re… fuck, clench like that again, pup, God… you’re so little, huh? Tiny puppycunt hardly big enough for me, that right?”

He pulls his hips back just enough to shove in again, sending Johnny forward a few inches and drawing a high yelp at the sharp spark of pain.

“Shit, how’re you so tight?’ Simon pants, one hand gripping Johnny’s hip hard enough to nearly grind bone. “You clenchin’ down on me cause it hurts? Do I need to hit you some more to keep you tight for me, puppy?”

Johnny shakes his head as best he can, just barely managing to choke out a  “N-no!” as Ghost starts to find a slow rhythm, rocking in and out of his body. 

He hums, like he doesn’t quite believe Johnny, but he gives him a warm and solid squeeze to the nape of his neck, and he doesn’t hit him again. Johnny tries to breathe a sigh of relief, but he chokes on it as Ghost bottoms out again.

It doesn’t get any easier to bear. Johnny can never fully catch his breath, not if Ghost is pulling out to just the tip and thrusting back in on one fast plunge, and not if he’s just grinding himself right against Johnny’s cervix. It’s like he’s lost control of his lungs like his heart - both erratic, both making him feel like a struggling prey animal, even as he’s limp beneath Simon.

The bear is all but silent, for all of his horrible words before. Johnny would call it a mercy, but the way his fat cock bullies endlessly into his cunt could never be merciful, even in the near-silence. Johnny’s sure Simon doesn’t even know how to be merciful, not with the way he speaks, the way he takes.

Johnny can’t bring himself to be silent, though. He hates it, but the sounds are forced out of him on every thrust. Horrible, cock hungry moans, whorish whines, yipping noises that sound like they’re coming from the wrong form. His face flames, tears streaking down his cheeks, but he can’t hold anything in.

He feels unspooled beneath Ghost. Like the man had taken one look at him, found all his loose strings, and just plucked and pulled until he came completely undone. Johnny would hate him if it didn’t feel so good, but his mind works against him when it’s so overloaded.

With a hand clamped on Johnny’s nape and the other on his hip, Simon fucks him with a vigor that feels impossible - impossible to bear, and impossible to keep up with. His own drool smears against his cheek when it’s pressed into the furs, unable to do anything but take what Ghost gives.

Simon eventually finds a rhythm that allows him to pull nearly completely out and bury himself back to the hilt on every thrust, leaning what has to be most of his body weight against Johnny’s nape to keep himself at the right angle to nudge his cervix again and again.

It hurts - the stretch, the drag of his cock against slick walls, the sharp shocks on every thrust - but the pain only makes it better. Johnny can’t help but moan, humping the air in his best attempt to push Ghost for more.

“So good, puppy,” he moans, pace quickening. The slap-slap-slap of skin is audible, Johnny’s wetness only making everything sound more crass. “So tiny for me, squeezin’ around your mate’s cock so good… gonna make you feel so good, give you a reward for keepin’ yourself tight.”

Johnny’s whine is high, needy, and a distant part of him hates it but the present part is too wrapped up in the promise of feeling good to care.

“My good, tight girl. Didn’t let anyone else fuck you, huh? You a virgin, baby?”

He’s not - far from it, actually - but Ghost doesn’t answer and moans at whatever image he’s conjured in his head.

“Stay… oh fuck, stayed fresh for me? Didn’t let any other men make your cunt loose, did’ya? No, no,” he’s panting, his pace so quick, so hard, that Johnny would almost be convinced he was using a toy if not for his audible exertion. “No, my girl stayed nice and tight for me. She doesn’t have a sloppy cunt, not my mate.”

Johnny sobs at the shift of pronouns, the feminization. He feels something rise in him, a heat that comes from deep inside and feels like it might burn him up entirely. Johnny hopes it does, hopes it consumes him for long enough to forget what’s happening, what’s happened.

“She’s gonna…” he trails off into a snarl, biting roughly at Johnny’s shoulder before pulling back at his shout. “She’s gonna carry my cubs, take such good care of them. Keep my cum warm, then keep my babies warm… so good, gonna be so… fuck, puppy, I can’t… you’re too fucking good, can’t…” he huffs, trailing off into pure animal noises, growls and snarls the vibrate through Johnny’s spine.

Simon shifts a little on his knees, making his cock drive further up into Johnny’s channel and drawing a moan that sounds more like a scream from him. After that, it’s hardly any time at all before he’s coming.

Ghost’s orgasm is loud, something uninhibited and almost proud in the sounds he makes. Johnny can feel the hot cum spurting inside of him, feel it covering his insides. The few final erratic thrusts he gets are just enough for him to reach the peak too, that fire finally coming up to coat every limb, every nerve of his body. His ears fold over, flopping to the front of his head, and his tail falls limp to the side of his body.

He sinks into it eagerly, desperate to drown his brain in everything good to try and block out the bad. It works, and he’s left feeling like nothing but a brainless toy as Ghost shudders through the final vestiges of his own orgasm. Johnny lays boneless, riding the waves of euphoria and milking Simon’s cock slowly, trying to draw every drop of pleasure from the bear he can, trying to keep himself in this moment.

But it has to end, and Ghost’s breathing slowly evens out as he softens inside of Johnny. He can’t tell if it’s his own wetness or Simon’s come dripping from his hole, and he can’t work up the energy to care either.

“That was perfect, Johnny,” Ghost praises, his hand trembling just the slightest bit as he shifts from holding the smaller man down to stroking his spine again. “You were perfect, so good for me. My good boy. My pretty mate.”

Johnny whines, but even he can’t tell what the sound is supposed to mean. Later he’ll insist it was upset, displeasure but it sounds more like appreciation.

“You tired, puppy?”

He nods as best he can, unintentionally rubbing his face into his own spit and blood.

“Alright, you can nap. You’ve earned it, Johnny.”

Ghost tips him to the side with a soft grip on his ribs, keeping himself firmly lodged within Johnny and pulling his back to his chest. They’re left spooning, Simon’s back to then entrance of the cave and both of them pressed so tightly together than Johnny’s not sure they’ll ever be able to pull apart.

“Relax now,” Simon rumbles, one hand wrapping beneath Johnny’s head to let him use as a pillow and the other tucked around his waist, holding him close. He buries his nose in Johnny’s mohawk, and Johnny can feel his ears pressing against the bear’s cheeks. “We’ll figure everything else out later.”

Johnny shifts, wincing at the squeeze to his stomach and the weight still resting inside of him. “Can you…?”

Ghost grunts a low, disapproving sound. “No. Gotta keep you plugged up, make sure it takes.”

If he had any tears left, Johnny might cry again. But he’s drained, emotionally and physically exhausted from all the day’s trauma, and he’s got nothing left to give.

So he sinks into the heat at his back, the solid arms around him. He feels almost shell shocked, staring at the way the shadows dance across the wall with a heavy bear behind him. If it weren’t for the thick cock plugging him up, he’d almost call the scene domestic.

Eventually, the peaceful embrace of sleep welcomes him. He doesn’t try to fight it off, desperate to leave the cave if only in his subconscious mind. 

Against his better knowledge, he can’t help but hope when he next opens his eyes he won’t see the cave at all. He knows it’s bad to hope, knows he’s only setting himself up for disappointment, but… Well, if he pretends the heat surrounding him is from his blankets, that the pleasant scent in the air is his den, not the heavy smell of satisfaction, then that’s his business.

#we're pretending hypothermia isn't real because johnny would definitely have it #also sorry if the pic at the end is cringe! i don't care! #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #bo writes #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john mactavish x simon riley #soap mactavish x ghost riley #ghoap smut #ghostsoap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #ghoap #ghostsoap

[karniss-bg3]

The Tragedy of Faith

So between tumblr and twitter I've read various takes on Kar'niss and what draws people to him. For some it's the monster fucking appeal, for others it's the desire to fix a clearly broken individual. There are in-betweens and of course this is subjective and depends on the person. Act 2 spoilers ahead. Where my personal interest comes from is how good Larian communicated the tragedy of faith and what a cult can do to a person. Kar'niss is a creature that has been broken by not one God, but two. Lolth broke him physically, the Absolute broke him mentally. His entire identity has been lost to a deity to the point he raises her in his speech. Referring to her as "Majesty" and "Queen", two terms you don't really hear anyone else address her as, he has elevated her to his final savior and leader. He also often refers to himself as "we" and "us", cementing him as part of the hive mind rather than holding any individuality of his own. When he does refer to himself as "I", it's mostly to show further loyalty to the Absolute, to maintain a position of importance in his fractured mind. Cults are notorious for targeting the most vulnerable in society as they are the easiest to mold and manipulate to their doctrine. The fact that goblins are one of the main races that fall to the Absolute's influence is telling in that regard, as they are often dismissed by the other races. Kar'niss was ripe for the picking, an easy target to lure into her arms. No doubt he was found shortly after Lolth twisted him into a drider and banished him, he didn't stand a chance.

Not even taking those elements into account, Kar'niss came from a society that is infamous for cruelty and violence, especially toward males of their species. Drow greatest hits include, but are not limited to: -Killing their young if they are not aesthetically pleasing enough. In other words, ugly. -Sacrificing every third born son to Lolth.

-If a male finds the favor of two competing females, it often doesn't end well for the male. The rival woman will kill the male and chuck his dead body into his opponents bedchambers, just for the sake of being petty.

-Love and emotions of any sort are in short supply, if not outright unseen as a general rule. The nature of drow to backstab and seek to rise in the ranks makes it near impossible to be anything other than fierce and domineering.

With these things in mind, it's easy to assume that Kar'niss had a turbulent upbringing and likely suffered untold abuse from many around him. It's not to say that good or reasonable drow don't exist, it's just not commonplace in a Lolthite society. Unfortunately, the game doesn't give us a great deal to go on as far as his past. What little he reveals only happens after he's dead, and even then its really a cliffs notes version. What we do know is that his devotion is intense and unwavering. He's willing to die for the Absolute because in his mind the Absolute are the only ones who care about him. We even see fellow followers talk down to him, dismiss him, and verbally eye-roll the guy. To them, his fanaticism is over the top and they follow the same God he does.

All told, this leads me to the conclusion that Kar'niss has never, or rarely, known true compassion in his entire life. He's been used as a puppet for one deity or another, and likely mocked or cast aside even when he did everything right. It doesn't surprise me that there are folks who desire a romance option, or barring that a side venture to break him free of the Absolute's hold. We don't know if Kar'niss did terrible things in his past, or where his moral compass sits as his entire personality revolves around God. But I'd love to know, and I crave more background on him in one form or another.

I've spent too much time thinking about different paths that could happen in-game. I also understand it's incredibly unlikely he'll ever become a companion. The sheer amount of time and resources needed to give a character a satisfying arc is likely more than Larian can do with other constraints, but maybe we'll be pleasantly surprised. So Kar'niss lovers, platonic, romantic, or everything in-between...I gotchu fam. We stan the spooder bby. Someone get that man a blanket and a nice mug of hot cocoa. And a cult de-programming kit, one of those would be good.

#baldur's gate 3 #kar'niss #bg3 #drider #karniss #baldurs gate 3 #drow #early morning ramblings #this entire post was the long way of saying “I can fix him” #no judgement to the ones who want an ass full of web #act 2 spoilers #bg3 spoilers #my writing

[min1check]

Leto! Joker x side chick! Reader ig…

1248 words

Barely proofread ts so i’m so sorry if u see errors

pt 2

Description: You work at one of Joker’s clubs and he starts to take an interest in you….

Every night there would be presents and money left on my small table in my small ass kitchen in this small ass apartment. 

It all started when I finally learned the real identity of my boss’s boss’s boss at the club I worked at. I really needed money desperately for my family who lived out of the country. I’m currently working on the papers so they can gain legal presence but until then I need to work hard and study hard. 

At the club I worked at, they paid me better than most places and I would be able to go to university in the daytime and work at night. 

The club was pretty high class, there were many high profile politicians who were VIPs. Given that they were even at a club, they were most if not all sleezebags who tried to hit on the staff to the point that I could file sexual harassment charges. But nevermind that. 

The club was so high class and full of VIPs that I didn’t expect it to be owned by the biggest crime lord in this city, the Joker. This whole city was corrupt in and out. Even if I tried to file those sexual harassment charges I would’ve been shut up instantly. 

When I saw this head of green hair and his pale deathly looking skin and his red lips that I couldn’t tell if it was lipstick or blood, I tried my best to not be noticed by him. 

Though he looked like a corpse he was extremely attractive. Maybe in another universe I would actually try to get at him. Well and if his fellow Clown Queen of Crime didn't exist. She frightens me even more than Joker. Well actually that’s a lie but as a girl I can say that we’re ruthless when it comes to boyfriends and husbands and such. Too blind and in too much love to use actual reason.

Harley’s beautiful though they genuinely look good together. 

I went over to Joker’s table where he was talking to (or more like taunting) his client to drop off the drinks. It seemed that everyone else already knew what his regular drink was and his client’s. 

I tried my best not to mess up or to not loudly drop the drinks because at this moment I could actually not stop my whole body from shaking. They continued talking about their deal without even looking at me. I kept a friendly smile on my face. 

I walked off a bit quickly because I was terrified. Yet I felt like someone was staring right at me. I quickly turned my head and all I could see in that moment was Joker with his usual devilishly grin looking straight at me. My blood ran cold. 

When I was out of his sight I closed my eyes and started to pray. 

‘Dear God, please forgive me for any sins I have committed for I do not want to die tonight. I have too much to live for so please don’t let me die. Thank you for everything you have blessed me with Lord, amen.’ 

I was crying internally. 

Literally was gonna kill myself right then and there. But I brought myself back to reality and back to work. 

Whenever I would come to work the Joker would be there with Harley. 

I literally think I’m going crazy because I think he keeps looking straight at me…. With his girlfriend/wife/partner in crime which was even worse. Yeah he was hot but cheating men are scum of the Earth. And Joker’s a mass murderer and other stuff. To be honest I kinda forgot I’ve been too busy with school to care about politics….

I finally got a shift off and a day off of school today. I’m just gonna sleep and lounge around and be fat. I got out of my bed to go get some more ice cream in my kitchen. 

It felt a bit unnerving when I was in the kitchen, like someone was watching me. I shook off the feeling because I had locks on every single window and door. The crime in my country is a bit bad so Gotham wasn’t that much different. 

As soon as I turned around to go back to my bedroom with my ice cream in hand…

“Boo!” 

“What the fuck?!” I screamed so loud that I dropped my bowl of ice cream and it shattered. 

“The look on your face doll… it’s so… funny!” The intruder was the Joker and he couldn’t and wouldn’t stop laughing at my reaction. 

“…” I just stood there in silence thinking about how that bowl was so expensive…

I didn’t want my floor to be sticky so I started picking up shards of the really expensive bowl. 

“Aww~ Are you.. mad doll~?” He teased me with his usual grin. 

“Not really, I’m just a little sad because this bowl was really expensive.” I sighed to myself. 

“If that’s it then here.” Joker tossed money at me. 

“Um… It’s okay I’ll just work for it back.” My mom always taught me that I shouldn’t accept money and that I should always offer to pay so I gave that money back to him. 

“Just take it Doll, think of it as my~ first~ gift~ to~ you~” he really emphasized on the last part like really. 

He got comfy and sat down on a table chair as I cleaned the floor from the sticky mess. 

That sounds a little wrong, I just mean my ice cream trust…

After cleaning it all, it occurred to me…

Why and how did the Joker get into my apartment…

My blood ran cold. I feel like I could turn into a reptile with how much my blood goes cold. 

“I liked seeing you at my club but I like seeing you in this shaggy apartment more.” He looked at me. 

“Um… how did you get in here?” I spoke quietly afraid I would somehow strike a nerve. 

“It was easy! I broke your window.” He spoke like he just finished climbing Mt. Everest. 

My mouth dropped to the floor. 

Like I tried to close it but it just wouldn't. 

“…” 

“What~? Cat got your tongue Doll?” He grinned. 

I’m actually going to kill myself. 

At this point I hope he pulls out the glock 19 and shoots me….

Wait but all my windows are barred up…

I looked into my living room and realized there was glass everywhere and the metal bar was stretched apart enough where it would fit the Joker perfectly. 

Calculating the cost in my head I actually started to cry. Tears ran down my face. 

I would be fine if I picked up a few extra shifts but I had to study more because finals were coming up. I’ll have to cut down on food and sleep…

The Joker awkwardly patted my back. 

“Here’s some more money Princess.” 

“I.. Cant accept it.” I said between sniffles and pushed his money back to him. 

He suddenly grabbed my head with both his hands and made me stare him in the eye. 

“Take. The. Money. Princess. Or else I’ll shove it down your throat.” His face was way too close to mine. 

“Thank you…” I tried my best to smile while he was still manhandling my head. 

He kissed me out of literally nowhere. 

My blood went cold again. 

I don’t want to be a mistress or some side bitch….

And Harley’s gonna kill me……

Yet it felt so good. 

#jared leto joker #joker x reader #leto joker #leto joker x reader #the joker x reader #jared leto joker x reader

[lovisyandereblog]

noah with a sweet n loving darling, gives him hugs, kisses, gifts and affection but is absolutely RAMMING his ass during sexy time, like degrading, edging, torturing him until he's sobbing, begging for release. Either way, darling gives the best aftercare, switching back to their lovey-mode n taking care of him... idk its just a thought yknow?

From your sweetiepie 🍓anon ♡♡♡

🍓 anon….youve read my mind.

TW (rough) nsfw so mdni!! also dick = strap for my fellow dickless people !!!

Darling is an absolute sweetheart, everyone says so. With their respectful attitude, their always smiling face and their kindness that warms the hearts of many.

This aspect was one of the reasons Noah loved them so much, they were always so gentle…but boy was he mistaken as soon as they started getting more intimate.

SLAP!!

The sound of their hand making contact with Noah’s soft pale skin, followed by his own loud cry just turned Darling on even more.

Noah’s entire body was covered in bruise marks, hickeys and bites; all from his precious darling~

They gripped his hair roughly, pulling him up so his back was against their chest; pounding much more harder than before making his whole body shake with each thrust, “You like that huh~? Dirty bitch…like it when I hit that ass of yours?” They asked, followed by another slap and whine.

Their words were so mean!! But it made Noah’s dick leak pre-cum more and more. Darling removed their hands from his hair, making him drop back on the bed—only for him to gag as they held his mouth open from the sides with both of their hands from the back (A/N i hope you guys are understanding what position im talking abt 😭)

He whined as he was pulled back up, his back arching as his tongue lolled out of his mouth; losing himself in the pleasure. Darling chuckled as his moans became louder and louder, “Youre like a dog in heat aren’t you baby~? Liked being fucked dumb by your owner~?” They spoke in a condescending tone, Noah could only respond with a whine, drool escaping his mouth and covering Darling’s fingers.

“Yeahhh..THRUST…Im your fucking owner…THRUST…dumb fucking mutt…” They spoke through gritted teeth, letting go of Noah’s mouth and gripping his hips to find a better angle: the one that makes him go crazy.

He fell on his hands, weakly trying to hold himself up but as soon as Darling hit that special spot of his—he went nuts.

“AHHHNNGH~!! YES YES YESS…OH F-FUCK…” Noah moaned so loudly that the neighbours would have definitely heard his slutty voice by now.

“Fuck baby…” They groaned as they reached one hand down and started rubbing Noah’s sensitive dick, his body jerked and he sobbed from the overwhelming amounts of pleasure, “AHH~ AHHHH~~~Y/NNNNN!!! T-TOO M..MUSH..TOO..NGHH~” He whined as they slapped his ass again, a beautiful red handprint forming where they had hit.

“You’re gonna fucking take it…take it you dumb fucking slut.” Their harsh words were accentuated by their even harsher thrusts, they leaned down so their mouth was right next to his ear as they increased how fast they were jerking him off.

Oh god he was going to fucking die…he couldn’t cum anymore!!

“Yeah? Youre just my little cumdump aren’t you baby~? A whore who just likes getting fucked over and over again to the point of breaking hmm~?” Darling whispered in his ear as Noah sobbed even more from their free hand playing with his sensitive nipples.

“Y-Y/NNN~ P-PLEASE…I C-CANT!! IM G-GONNA…AHHNGHH!!” Noah whined, making Darling chuckle as they straightened their back, bringing their hands to his hips again.

“My baby want’s to come~? Awee..how adorable~” Darling spoke in a fake sweet tone, as they slowed their thrusts before coming to a complete halt. Noah whimpered and looked back over his shoulder towards them, Darling just wanted to eat him up~

“W-why did you stop~?” Noah whined, trying to move himself back but Darling held his hips in place.

“You insatiable slut…can’t even go a second without a dick fucking inside of you huh~? Even after coming 6 times tonight~?” They smirked, watching Noah pout.

He couldn’t help but clench his hole at their demeaning words, why did it have to feel so good~?

“S-sorry..mmmshorryy~~ P-please…I need you~” Noah begged, knowing nothing turned darling on more than him begging.

And he was spot on as Darling’s grip became tighter, “You need me baby~? Need me to fuck you till you cum~? Start begging for it then…beg for me to fuck your slutty little ass till you come for me~” They demanded immediately, slapping his ass once more.

Darling held his slender waist and flipped him around on his back, so they could see every expression on his pretty face as he comes for them. Noah bites his lip anxiously, he always got nervous before begging…making Darling smirk more as they loved how shy he got.

“P-please…?” His voice was so timid, Darling just had to tease him more, “What was that baby…can’t hear you~?

Noah whined, grabbing onto their arm and making the biggest puppy eyes he could. He remained eye contact which was so hard for him but Darling love it as he begged:

“P-please Y/N!! Please fuck me…p-please fuck me till Im a shaking mess…your shaking mess!! Please…im your slut..im your dirty m-mutt…please!! Im all yours…Im your whore…i need you inside me— AAHHHNNG~!!!” His begging was cut short by Darling abruptly and harshly fucking into him, his back arched as he came on the spot—long white ropes of cum spurting out of his poor abused dick.

Darling fucked him through his orgasm, making sure he was nice and satisfied and stopped as he came down.

Then it was like a switch flipped.

Darling pulled out of him, making Noah whimper—his thighs were shaking as was his entire body from the mind breaking orgasm.

They quickly gathered Noah in their arms, cooing at him and giving him kisses all over the marks they had made.

“Oh baby…you were so good..so pretty for me yeah~?” They praised as Noah wrapped his arms around them, he always felt extra clingy after an orgasm.

They cuddle for a while before Darling laid him down and held a glass of water to his mouth, “Drink up angel…there’s a good boy~” Their praises a complete opposite of the degrading words a few seconds ago, and Noah absolutely loved it.

Noah looked at him with those adorable puppy eyes of his, “I..I l-love you~” He spoke hoarsely, his throat hurt from all that screaming.

“Shh baby…don’t speak yeah? I love you more…let me go get a warm wet cloth to clean you up hmm~?” Darling kissed his cheek, he didn’t want to let them go but he knew he had to.

Noah watched as they carefully cleaned his body, making sure to be gentle and considerate; they left kisses wherever they could reach, taking their time with him. His eyes watered from the overwhelming love, he felt his heart swell…he thought he didn’t deserve them.

After carefully making sure he was clean, they put the cloth in the dirty clothes hamper and went to cuddle him against them, their naked bodies providing the warmth they both needed.

Darling pulled the covers over both of their bodies and smiled at Noah, kissing his nose gently, “I love you Noah~”

He smiled as he whimpered back, “I love you…s-so much~”

BRO this was supposed to be a short one paragraph little thought and i wrote too much 🧍‍♀️ BUTT I HOPE THIS WAS WHAT YOU WERE HOPING FOR!! LOVE YOUUUU also Lovi writing twice in a day im kinda crazy (I will disappear for ten months) IM JOKINGH IO4EFRQU4F809

#yandere blog #yandere #obsessive yandere #yandere x reader #obsessive imagines #obsessive love #sub yandere #sub character #male yandere #smut #rough smut #dom x sub #f dom #m dom #subby boys #oc character #oc #my ocs #oc work #🍓 anon