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holybibly · 2 months

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Heyy if your dark hours are still open…👀👀 would you mind sharing your thoughts about yandere Ateez concubine harem…? Or perhaps any harem that you can think of because I’m very much into this topic🤭🤭🤭

You know what? Today I wanted to be affectionate with you, damn bunnies, and spoil you with tenderness and sweets, but you just provoked my dark side with all these requests, didn't you?

So change of plan, bunnies; we're going down the dark and rough road. I love yandere's concubines, Ateez. God, can we think of anything more seductive and more dangerous than that? From now on, you should send me such requests more often, bunnies. Feed this demon within me.

You entered the palace as the wife of the new emperor. His fourth wife. His glittering war trophy.

When war came, your world was changed beyond recognition. Flames and ashes consumed the luxury and grandeur of the palaces, and the jewels turned to dust, leaving only you, the Ice Princess of the Northern Mountains.

Your life was made of crystal and your heart was made of ice stronger than diamonds, and it was this cold and lunar beauty that caused you to be forcibly married.

Yes, you may have entered the palace as the Emperor's wife. But you were a nobody within the high walls of the palace, just a sad reflection of past your greatness.

Everyone knew that the Emperor had a large harem, not counting the three older wives, but what really surprised you was that it was not only made up of girls, but of young men as well. There were eight of them. Each one more beautiful than the last, each one unique and unrepeatable.

Until one fateful night, you had never met them or seen them in person. It was a lunar festival, and you were its queen. Dressed in silk and the finest translucent tulle, as if kissed by the moon goddess herself, you sparkled and attracted the attention of everyone around you. Everybody, but not your husband. He didn't even look at you, brushed you aside as if you were an annoying mosquito, and sent you off to talk and smile at the guests while he went off to fuck another beautiful concubine.

And then, for the first time in your life, you had a meeting with the concubines of his other harem. And your world was turned upside down for the second time in your life.

It was love at first sight, a fire that burned through his veins and poisoned his mind. And it was all because of you. It was your fault that Wooyoung couldn't sleep, couldn't eat, couldn't laugh, and couldn't live. All of a sudden, his whole world was reduced to you and your heavenly, icy beauty. He passionately wanted to melt that ice, make you beg, squirm, and moan as he fucked you unconscious and painfully, filling you with his sperm and marking you as his property.

The only thing Wooyoung ever had in his life was his beauty. He grew up in poverty, living on scraps of food and the small amount of money he was able to pick up from the dirt. That is, until the day the current emperor, who was still a prince at the time, came upon him in one of the alleys, on the run from his guards. Wooyoung's dark fox eyes captivated him at once, and as if he had fallen under his spell, the emperor brought him back to the palace to be his concubine.

Wooyoung was a greedy concubine; there was always something that was not enough for him. He wanted to swim in luxury, to drown in gold and silk, to have diamonds, and to own the whole damn world. The best should be his, and so it was; the emperor gave him everything and more that Wooyoung had a desire for. And now you were in his sights. He wanted you so much that it ate him up from within and almost drove him mad, greedily and viciously, in the most horrible way in the world.

Yes, Wooyoung was greedy, and if he had to kill the Emperor to get you, he wasn't going to think twice about doing it.

One look at you could bring him to his knees. He would crawl to you like a pet if you commanded him to, and that desire was stronger than the hatred he felt for the whole of the world. You could tame his wild temper, and Mingi would want nothing more than for you to straddle him and ride his cock day and night, tearing the skin from his back and shoulders, choking him, and biting him until his will was broken. Mingi was uncontrollable and capricious, passion and fire raging in him, burning everything in his path, but your element was ice, burning him harder than hell itself.

Once upon a time, Mingi was a warrior, one of the great generals of his country, until the war came and destroyed his entire life. It took everything from him—his will, his family, his home. Yes, the war had taken everything from him except for the poisonous rage and the dark, vicious passion that was boiling in his veins. He was brought to the palace in chains like a slave, and that very night the Emperor took him by force and made him one of his concubines. This only made him bitterer.

Mingi was venomous and aggressive, biting and scratching until he bled, but you, you did something to him—you forced him into submission by your very presence, without him even knowing it. The wild, unbridled storm inside of him became the icy surface of the lake, soothing and healing. And Mingi wanted peace. He wanted the touch of your icy hands on his heated skin and cold kisses on his lips. He wanted you.

What is passion if not a flame that is a destroyer of all things on its way to its goal? And Mingi was full of fire to burn this damn palace to the ground to take possession of you.

He was sin clothed in a human body, debauchery and lust embodied in an image of heavenly beauty. The whole of Seonghwa's life had been nothing more than a constant stream of sex and an endless series of lovers. He could not get rid of this feeling; it was like frost on his skin. This constant, painful need was scratching him from the inside out. But when he saw you, all his thoughts were focused on you—on your pure, untouched skin that he wanted to lick and bite, on your slim waist that he wanted to squeeze as he fucked you continuously. On those red, seductive lips that would be simply amazing when wrapped around his dick. It was you he wanted, and for the first time in his life, Seonghwa wanted you to be the one. He didn't want anyone else, only you.

Before he entered the palace, he was one of the most sought-after whores in the brothel, famous for his devilish beauty and his languid, cat-like gaze. There was a line of people waiting for him, and Seonghwa was more than happy to accept them all. He was insatiable, wanting to fuck anywhere and anytime, trying the most sinful and unusual things. He was a real slut. But when the emperor heard about Seonghwa and visited his brothel one day, everything changed. Suddenly, he was no longer just a whore; he became Imeretar's concubine.

Seonghwa's hunger could not be quenched, and one partner would never be able to cope with it. But here you are, pure and radiant like an angel, beckoning him with your immaculate beauty. You were stronger than his dark, insatiable demon of lust. He wanted to corrupt you, to make you like him, and to make you dependent on him, just as he had become dependent on thinking about you.

It is said that whores don't know how to love, but they know how to desire. And there was enough darkness in Seonghwa to consume and destroy the world; to possess your purity and chastity. Then let the world be plunged into darkness until you are alone with him.

Yeosang had never been interested in anything at all. The world was too boring and dangerous for him. He could never care less about it. If he could, he would stay safe and comfortable in his bed for the rest of his life. You were different—distant and cold, but with an inexplicable thirst to live. You wanted to see all the things around you, to experience the cultures and the art. The world was interesting to you, and that was a source of irritation to Yeosang.

Everything about you was fragile and exquisite, and the fact that you didn't see it was what made Yeosang so angry. Don't you see, little butterfly, the world is terrible and dangerous. You would be much better off with him in his bed, far away from anything that could harm you in any way. Perhaps you would finally understand that you shouldn't run away from the safety and comfort of his bed if he were to break you. If that helped, Yeosang would want to destroy you and fuck your little curious brain until you thought only of him. He would spend hours warming you with his dick, days kissing your cold lips, and smothering you with his attention and love.

Yeosang was always aware that one day he would be part of the emperor's household. He had been prepared for this since he was a child, pampered and protected from the whole world, so that there would not be a trace of dirt on his silky, snow-white skin. Always waiting for the Emperor to visit his chambers and warm his soft bed, albeit temporarily. Yeosang almost never left his room, but like all concubines, he had to attend the Moon Festival. And that's when he saw his fragile butterfly. And like everything beautiful in this world, you were too easy to break. Yeosang wanted to protect you, hide you between his sheets, and shower you with care.

Yes, beautiful things broke easily, sometimes too easily—delicate butterfly wings, flower petals, crystal jewelry. But Yeosang wanted to see how the most beautiful thing in the world—human life—broke.

He wanted to eat you alive. Sinking his teeth into you and never letting you go, you awakened in him this wild, all-consuming hunger that he could not satisfy with anything else. You were the most delicious dish of all, and your taste was his only desire. San had always been a little insatiable, wanting more attention, wanting to love more, wanting to more sex, wanting everything this world had to offer him. It was never enough. You walked past him without even looking in his direction, the trail of your perfume settling on his skin and seeping into his body, poisoning him as you went. He wanted you to pay attention to him, to smile at him, to love him, to touch him. Oh, he would never let you go, he would fill you with his cum over and over again, and it wouldn't be enough for his taste. If he could, his dick would be in your pretty pussy all the time, so warm and delicious. He was in desperate need of you, he was hungry for you, and this hunger was all-encompassing.

Ever since he was a child, San had had a voracious appetite, always in need of a bigger and sweeter bite to temporarily fill the emptiness inside him that was growing with him. He had everything he could ever wish for; he had grown up in a loving and wealthy family with titles, but the dark hunger that plagued him was terrible. No matter what it was, he was always in need of more. So one day, when the emperor asked if he wanted to join his harem, San didn't hesitate to accept, but the hunger didn't go away.

You were the most delicious forbidden fruit of them all, and San was desperate to sink his teeth into you. He could almost feel the heavenly sweetness of you on his tongue, and it was driving him wild.

The sky could crash and burn all around him, and he wouldn't care, as long as you could fill him up and satisfy him.

There was no one in this world who could ever be like him. There was no one like Hongjoong. There was no limit to his pride and his greatness, and any praise You never praised him, you never sought his attention, and you were never enchanted by his sharp mind, his sweet voice, or his beauty, which could only be rivalled by the devil himself. And Hongjoong hated it. He hated how much he wanted your attention and your love. He wanted you to worship him, idolise him, and devote your whole life to him. He had to have you in all ways, even if those ways were darker than the night itself.Hongjoong wanted to see you in his golden bed, stretched out on the silk, while he was ravaging your body. He wanted to hear the endless moaning of his name as his cock tore apart the little cunt that was yours. He was in need of it, so much so that his whole body ached.

Hongjoong was a trophy of war, just like you. He was a real prince, who was supposed to be a king one day. His ego knew no bounds, and he was cruel and daring. Of course, the whole of the palace was conquered by the magnificent prince dressed in gold - all of them, except for you.

Yes, Hongjoong was a true prince, and one day he would overthrow the emperor and take his rightful throne, and like every emperor, he had to have his empress. You may not see him now, but the day will come when Hongjoong will be the only sunshine that illuminates your life. And he couldn't wait for it.

Yunho has never been the victim of jealousy. He has always been the recipient of praise and adoration, a constant reminder of how much he is loved. Yunho had no idea how jealousy could be. Or so he thought, at least.

That night, when he saw you in the light of the moon, he had hatred for the whole damn world. How dare he look at what belonged to him? He envied all those who could speak to you so freely; he envied all those who could pronounce your name; he envied his emperor, who did not appreciate your beauty and who humiliated you. Damn it, Yunho was jealous of the very air you were breathing. He desperately wanted to be him—to live inside you and melt into your skin. He wanted to melt into you without a trace.He would have loved to take you to his bed, to kiss every inch of your skin, to fuck you long and slow, and to shower you with compliments and praise. He would like to have you in his arms all the time, writhing and moaning with desire and need. For him, you are the only thing he needs in his life.

Yunho used to be just a servant in the palace. But he caught the Emperor's eye. That very night, he entered the emperor's chambers as his new concubine. Yunho knew about the others; he knew that he was not the only one, but that never bothered him; he was able to share the attention of the emperor. Except you. You were his own, and even the world was not worthy of seeing you.

It would be so easy to have the entire palace blinded, so that no one else but Yunho would have to see your celestial beauty.

Jongho was a man too proud for his own good. In his mind, it was beneath his dignity to pay attention to others and smile sweetly at them. Jongho was the spoiled, arrogant son of one of the most important palace officials, and when his father had the chance to get close to the emperor, he naturally gave him to the harem. But even so, he still considered himself to be better than everyone else, even Hongjoong, who was a prince in his own right.

Jongho was the one who first saw you, quite by chance, when he visited his father on the night you were appointed as the emperor's fourth wife. The Emperor was a real fool not to see how brilliant and magnificent you were—a real crown jewel. You were a symbol of power, strength, and might, an enslaved princess of a once great country, and a black flame of desire flared up in Jongho—he wanted to own you completely.

He wanted you for himself—your thoughts, your will, your body, and your life. He wanted you to sit by his side, to be covered with jewels, and to bear his children. It was easy for him to imagine his hand wrapped around your fragile throat as he fucked you into the mattress, you begging and moaning for him, wanting to be filled with his cum.

Fueled by his selfish desires, his fixation on you became increasingly harmful and dangerous.

Out of all the trophies in the world, there was nothing that was more attractive to Jongho than you. And on the way to what he wanted, murder was never a serious matter for him.

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repulsiveliquidation · 2 months

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without you || Ona Batlle

warnings : angst w/ happy ending, i promise. mentions of illness and death. based on the poem above. enjoy :)

last night you were in my dreams

looked me in the eye

god

it felt so real

her side of the bed’s empty. there’s no note left for you in her pretty writing. her car is gone from its place next to yours in the driveway. her pillow smells so much like her, it’s almost like she’s still here. the tears. you hate the tears. they fall without your permission. they wet your pillow, “I’m sorry,” you whisper, the lump in your throat made it hard to swallow.

you roll over to her side of the bed, the cold sheets solidify your loneliness. Ona’s gone. she left this morning, bags seemingly packed for such a long time that there was a little dust bunny at the back of the closet from where she hid the duffle bags.

the sun shines into your room just a little, the window left open from the night before. you had shared a glass of wine there, laughing so loud that the old man who lived across from you yelled for you two to go to bed. his wife scolded him and apologized for his behavior, blowing you a kiss and a promise of fresh pastries she would send you the next morning.

you opened the front door and there they were, neatly packed in a little basket. they were Miguelitos, Ona’s favorite. tears filled your eyes again, picking up the pretty basket with an unsteady hand. the old lady calls from across the road and you force a smile, voice breaking when you yell a thank you in a terrible attempt at Spanish. she smiles and nods anyway, watching as you tread back into the house and she sees you wiping a tear away.

they’re still warm so you leave them on the kitchen uncovered. you call Jonatan and tell him you feel like, faking a sniffle that he doesn’t buy but he gives you the day off anyway. suspiciously, Ona calls him not three minutes later with the same excuse. normally you’d call and tell him you were both under the weather but separate calls raise flags in his mind.

you crawl back into bed and begin to sob, hot tears staining your cheeks and pillow. you pull her pillow close to your chest and try to calm yourself, knowing it was no use when all you wanted was your girlfriend to hold you close and tell you everything was going to be alright.

she had done this two times before. Ona was a perfectionist, a master of her craft. every pass, tackle, dribble, and kick had to be perfect. one loose ball that was her fault meant another hour on the pitch perfecting the pass till her toes hurt from kicking the ball. the first time you had to physically throw her over your shoulder and drag her home, having a strict conversation with Alexia as she cleaned up. you made her promise to take her health seriously or Alexia would wait for the green light from you to be benched until she bucked up.

the message got to her head for about six months until a badly timed tackle earned her a second yellow of the game and the send-off. she ran off the pitch in anger, lashing out at Vicky who was comforting her as she walked off. you were on the bench with a little ankle sprain and waddled after her with Alexia, Mapi, and Pina in tow. you were ready to give her an earful when you heard muffled sobbing in the changing room. you told the others you would handle it and they backed off, faces full of concern for their friend.

“Ona?” you called, walking into the room slowly. she wiped her tears away, trying to look like she wasn’t crying. she refused to raise her head, eyes fixed on her muddy cleats.

“Amor, it’s just me,” you comfort, sitting beside her and rubbing her back. she flinches but leans into your shoulder, crying into your pressed shirt. you rock her a little and let her cry it out, gripping your coat tight as she shook in your arms.

“shh, it was just badly timed princesa. it happens.”

“I’ve let the team down, they need me…” she cried harder, snot running down her face. you reach into your pocket and pull out some tissues, reminding yourself to ask the girls which one of them stuffed it into your pocket. you wipe her face and kiss her nose.

“the girls are fine, we’re five goals up with ten minutes to go. we’ve got this game in the bag.”

“but the next games…”

“should give you a chance to rest and regroup. you’ve been working yourself to the bone again.”

“I’ve been sloppy at training, I can’t afford to make mistakes!” she yelled standing up and storming into the showers.

you lean back and decide to give her some space to breathe, hearing the loud chattering of girls high off another win and a clean sheet. you smile and congratulate them, not wanting them to worry about their teammate. Ona comes out from the showers second to last, hair wet and cheek rosy from the hot water. you sit in her cubby patiently waiting and she kisses you.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you,” she apologizes, fiddling with her fingers. you nod and smile at her, standing up gingerly since your legs have gone numb. she changes and you notice that she’s got one of your ratty t-shirts on and your training sweats. you shake your head and walk out the door, yelling that you’d have the car warmed up for in the front in five.

she scrambles into the car and relaxes into the seat, muscles visibly melting into the warm upholstery. you drive leisurely back home, the Barcelona sunset to your left. Ona snores in the passenger seat softly, not even waking up when the scent of the Chinese takeout you pick up fills the car.

she rouses when you park in front of your house, feeling the familiar cobblestone that you have to drive over just before bringing the car into park. she smacks her lips and feels your lips press a soft kiss on her cheek.

“We’re home, my love.”

she smiles and stretches her arms, climbing out of the car sleepily. you’ve brought all the bags into the house, already cleaning out her kit bag. she rummages through the bags of food and smiles when she smells her favorite. maybe taking a break wasn’t such a bad idea.

it was as if you were here again

deep down inside me feel

Ona locks herself in her room. the sheets feel foreign, itching her skin. you always had the softest sheets, catering to her sensitive skin. the bonus was that they always smelled like you and she made sure to take deep breaths when you changed the sheets every week.

the room smelled stale too. an expected circumstance since she was rarely over here anyway. your house was closer to the pitch and she already had half the closet to herself, why make the trip every time?

there was a knock on the door about twenty minutes after she got home. she knew it was Aitana with a billion questions but all she wanted was to be alone. really she wanted to be with you but she’d fucked that up. she didn’t even know why she ran, the pressure of performing was becoming too much and she didn’t want to be a burden. she couldn’t bear to see that look of disappointment she saw glimmer over your face when she got her first red card with Barça.

the banging on her bedroom door was what woke her up hours later. Aitana mentioned breakfast in the oven and coffee in the coffee pot before the front door slammed shut. she checked her phone and there was radio silence, half hoping that you had left an angry voicemail telling her to come home. instead, she was met with her wallpaper of you holding Coco over the summer at her parent’s house.

tears pool in her eyes as she scrolls through her camera roll, swiping through all the silly photos you made her take that night. she threw her phone on the bed and screamed into the mattress, hoping deep down inside she was braver in another lifetime.

and when the light came to wake me,

and you slowly starting to fade away,

my soul was longing for you to take me,

Ona walked onto the pitch three days later, heart aching to see you. she stepped onto the pitch and spotted you talking to the girls, Ingrid slapping you on the back laughing at a joke Mapi told the group. she decides to avoid you, too cowardly to face the music. you notice her and smile but she turns away quickly, busying herself with her laces. you decide to try and corner her at the end of practice you do, needing the help of the girls to keep her from running to her car the moment Jonatan blows his whistle.

“why did you run away like that, Oni?” you ask her quietly, the rest of the team filtering out when Alexia begins to shepherd them outside.

“it’s none of your business,” she growls, tears flowing down her cheeks as she packs her kit bag. you grab her shoulder and she turns around with anger seething in her eyes. you’ve never seen hatred in her eyes before, it was unlike her; unlike your cheerful, noisy, playful but shy girlfriend.

“Ona? what’s gotten into you?” you ask, feeling tired of all the secrets she’s been harboring. for weeks you’ve been concerned about her odd behavior. she’s been making frequent visits to the medics, getting off practice earlier and staying longer sometimes, random trips to the ‘store’ for hours on end. you thought that she was planning something since your anniversary was coming up and she liked to make a big thing about it but when she left that morning it hit you that she was probably preparing to leave. this time though, it was for good.

it's her third round of dialysis this week. Ona sat in the lumpy chair of her dialysis center when her doctor walks in.

“how does it look, doctor?”

“it’s fourth-stage renal failure, Ona. you need a transplant or else you’re never playing football again. frankly, I don’t know how you’ve kept playing this long.”

“Jonatan knows.”

“I see,” he says and sits. “does your girlfriend know?”

“she’s not my girlfriend anymore.”

“did you decide that for her, or did she have any say?”

Ona looks up at him in shock. she tries not to jostle the machine as she sits up.

“How did you know?”

“you looked like you didn’t want to believe it when you said it.”

“she deserves better than,” she gestures to the machine, “this.”

“she deserves you,” he says and stands. as he walks away and Ona is about to cry, he turns and clears his throat. “she’s donated blood here before, she’s a perfect donor match.”

Ona tries to cry into her palm quietly, the weight of her decision bearing down on her shoulders.

but instead,

i must live without you,

for another day.

you wake up feeling groggy, and the sound of steady heartbeats fills the room. there’s another heartbeat that deep down sounds familiar and it puts a smile on your face.

a chilling call from Jonatan put you in this hospital bed. he explained that Ona needed a transplant and that you were a perfect match. you cried in his office, body shaking with anger at yourself more than at Ona. you knew that it ran in her family and that her age was when the onset was. the extra visits to the doctor and ‘shop’ trips all made sense now. you punched a wall on your way out dramatically, crying like a baby all the way home. you barged into her house, Aitana following behind you like a puppy.

“so you were just going to run and wait for you to die?” you yelled at her, body shaking in fury. she just stared at her fingers, fiddling with the end of the throw blanket in her lap.

“answer me!”

“you don’t deserve this!” she screamed back, tears running down her face. “you don’t deserve someone who is dying to be your girlfriend!”

tears flood down your cheeks and you hear her door click closed, Aitana in front of it.

“you had no right to decide that for me, Oni!”

“I couldn’t put you through this. if I don’t get a kidney soon, first it’ll be football then it’ll be me!”

“I know I’m a match.”

her head whips up to look at you so fast, you’re sure she’s gone and given herself another ailment.

“no.”

“I’m a perfect match, Onita.”

“I could never ask you to do that!”

“you’re not asking if I’ve already asked them to make sure it goes to you.”

“Bebé, I–”

“no, you would do the same for me. I love you too much to see you like this,” you kneel in front of her as she sits on the bed, feeling overwhelmed. “Please, Oni,” you beg with your head in her lap, “Please let me help you.”

Ona wakes up and looks over at you, sighing in relief that the surgery was a success. the nurses have pushed your beds close enough together that you stretch your arm out and she does the same, fingers laced together with an unspoken promise to face every challenge that comes your way the only way you knew was right; together.

#ona batlle #ona batlle x reader #ona batlle imagine #fc barca femeni #fcb femeni #fc barcelona femeni #espwnt #sefutbol fem #woso imagines #woso x reader #woso soccer #woso imagine #woso fanfics #woso angst #woso #woso community #womens football

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hijacksecrets · 5 months

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Hi, ages ago @vindikaetion and I came up with a Trollhunters AU, and we kept meaning to work on it but other AU's took priority and this one started to collect dust, so I decided to share all my sketches I did aaaaaages ago for this AU :> Cuz I'm real proud of how I Troll-ified the guardians. Bunny is more of a mossy covered troll, Sandy is (obviously) a sandstone-like troll and Tooth is a troll with a gemstone like appearance! :>

(Not seen: North isn't a troll, he's a human who has worked with the trolls for years to keep them secret/safe).

Also if you can't read my awful handwriting, Hiccup is saying "For the glory of the Tsar, moonlight is mine to command".

ANYWAY the basic idea was that Hiccup is the Trollhunter (obviously) and finds out through his mentors that his best friend since kindergarten is a changeling. Unbeknownst to all of them, though: Jack has absolutely no idea he's a changeling.

When Jack finds out he's a changeling, obviously he freaks out and goes to the first person he thinks to confide in only to find out Hiccup has known this whole time and has been trying to distance himself thinking that Jack was a bad guy, and shennanigans ensue xD

So there'd be this whole mystery surrounding Jack and his origins, how he didn't know he was a changeling if it requires you to be born in the shadowlands etc to take over someone's life -- essentially they find out he was a new kind of changeling made by the Tsar (MIM, this version of Merlin lol) that didn't requre a human in order to shapeshift.

Anywhoozle there was a lot more lore and ideas that I don't wanna just dump in a single post, but feel free to send me asks if you wanna know more!

Also! It lives in my head rent free the idea that Astrid and Camicazi are sisters and I wanted to have that for this AU :D

#my art #hijack #my stuff #how to train your dragon #rise of the guardians #hiccup horrendous haddock iii #rotg jack frost #hiccup horrendous haddock the 3rd #astrid hofferson #camicazi httyd #trollhunters AU

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clockwayswrites · 7 months

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Bury the Years Part 2

WC:1091 Masterpost CW: blood, canon typical violence, brief mentions of human trafficking/pedos

Jason watched Dick pace, hand clamped over his mouth like he was going to be sick. He could tell that Petrichor was watching Dick’s back and forth because of the very slight shifts of the other’s head against his chest. He was sure to keep petting his hair, hoping not to have to deal with a fit right then.

They were terrifying to watch.

Finally Dick stopped, sucked a breath through his nose, and then let his hand drop.

“You clawed your way out of your grave.” Dick sounded ruined.

Jason knew he didn’t sound much better. “Yeah.”

“When?”

He closed his eyes. He didn’t want to see Dick’s expression for this. “Four years ago.”

“Four years?!”

Hearing it wasn’t much easier.

“Where have you been? Why didn’t you—”

“Talia grabbed me, alright?” Jason snapped. That burning bile of the Pit coated the back of his throat. Petrichor nuzzled at his chest and Jason tried to breathe. He pulled the other a little tighter against him. “I was… I wasn’t okay. I was lost? My mind was lost. Talia grabbed me. I was with the League of Assassins or she would send me training or— she got in my fucking head Dick. They threw me in the Pits and whatever parts of my brain it couldn’t bring back they filled in and, and…”

He pried his eyes open. It was one of the hardest things he’d done since he’d been back, other than actually calling Dick, but he pried his eyes open and let Dick see the horrible, glowing green. “I’m not okay, Dick. I’m all sorts of fucked up and I’ve done fucked up things and, fuck, Dick, the things I was planning to do…”

“Hey, hey no, you didn’t, you called me,” Dick said, rushing over. Petrichor flinched, hard, and Dick stopped instantly, crouching instead, palms out and open. “You called me. I can help. Whatever she did to you, whatever she made you do—”

“I’ve killed, Dick. I killed in training. I killed teachers she sent me to because they were pedophiles or traffickers or some other sort of evil. I’ve killed and it wasn’t all her. B will never—”

“I killed the Joker,” Dick said, interrupting with a sort of detached cold that Jason had never heard from his brother before.

The Joker? But they… Talia said…

“They brought him back, but I killed him. But I’m still me, every part of me. You’re still his son, of course B will take you back.”

“Don’t,” Jason choked out.

“And if he won’t you have me! You’ll always have me.”

Jason squeezed his eyes shut again. “You don’t know what I was planning to do!”

“But you didn’t do it!”

“Because of him!” Petrichor flinched hard at the shout and the fight drained out of Jason like a bleeding wound. “Hey, I’m sorry dust bunny. I’m sorry I yelled, that wasn’t right of me. It’s okay, we’re okay. Dick’s not going to hurt us and I’m not going to hurt him. We’re safe. Remember I promised we were safe?”

Jason waited for the little nod.

“That hasn’t changed, earthworm. We’re still safe. That hasn’t changed. I just got angry and scared, but we’re still safe.”

Petrichor’s too thin finger squeezed Jason’s hand twice.

“Okay,” Dick said softly when Jason didn’t speak again. “Okay… we can… work through that.”

Jason laughed, the sound cracking in his dry throat. “I can’t see B right now, Dick. My head’s all messed up about him and with the Pits… I can’t see him or r—or the other one.”

“Alfred?’” Dick asked incredulously.

“No, Dickstick, the new black haired, blue eyed orphan charity case B replaced me with.”

“Who— oh, no, Jay, Tim—”

Jason honest to everything growled. The sound ripped itself out of his throat before he was even aware he was making it.

“Ooookay. Um, he isn’t your replacement, Jay. He doesn’t even live at the manor. He’s stayed over a few nights, if he got hurt on patrol, but he’s the neighbor. It’s part of how he figured this all out. He basically made B take him on as Robin.

What?

“What?”

No, that wasn’t… Talia had said…

“Yeah. The kid… he’s something. But he’s not B’s new son. And he sure can’t replace you, little wing.

Jason looked away from Dick, gnawing on the edge of his lip. That…

“But! You don’t have to see either of them right now. You and your, er, friend can come back to my place! It’s not much but we can make it work! You two can have the bed and I’ll stay on the couch. I’ll have to go shopping but,” Dick said, talking a mile a minute. He stood up suddenly, making Petrichor flinch again, but this time it was Dick that Jason stayed focused on.

“You’re hurt.”

“What? No, I mean, okay, a little, but it’s nothing! The plan still works.”

“Dick,” Jason snapped, though he was careful not to raise his voice.

Dick rolled his eyes, but pulled up his hoodie and shirt. The bandage was soaked through with blood.

“Jesus, Dick, did you even stitch it up?”

“I was trying to get here as fast as I could!”

“It’s ten in the morning! You didn’t get stabbed at ten in the morning. Did you pop your stitches while sleeping?”

Dick stared mulishly at the ground.

“Jesus fucking Christ on a cracker, you didn’t stitch it up last night,” Jason said. He tightened his hold on Petrichor preemptively. “And you think you can look after us? You can’t even look after yourself!”

“That’s different!”

“How? Why?”

“Because you matter!” Dick shouted.

“And you don’t?” Jason yelled back.

Dick’s shaking fists were clenched so tightly Jason knew there would soon be more blood to deal with. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t need to, the little jerky shrug he gave said it all.

“Right, that’s…” Jason buried his face in Petrichor’s hair again and tried to gather the few scraps of nerves he had left. “We’ll go to the manor. All three of us, we’ll go to the manor. You’re staying too so that Alfred can patch you up and so that you can keep B and him away from us. But you have to stay, Dick, I can’t be there without you. You have to stay too.”

Jason was sure, for a moment, that Dick was going to say no, but then he sighed heavily and his shoulders dropped in a weary slump. “Okay little wing, okay.”

---

AN: You all voted for it! So have some more hurt! Dick's still in a really rough spot when this fic starts, struggling with everything. It's not a good time for anyone.

We also have Jason's main name for Danny for this one! Since he doesn't know Danny's name. And of course lots of other nicknames!

Stay delightful, darlings!

#dp x dc #dead on main #bury the years

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ashsolar · 2 months

Text

favourite thingᯓ★ln4

chapter two, chapter three, chapter four, chapter five

Coming back to a place you once thought of as your home is never easy, what's even difficult is saying goodbyes to the things you once cherished. It's been years since your grandfather died and you know it's time to sell the one thing you had been dreading to sell in order to set yourself free.

𐙚

chapter one

𐙚

Goodbye's were never easy, you learnt that the hard way. The wind knocked you off your feet. Monaco was still the same, the richness in the air, the sweet enveloping smell of the coast. You hadn't been here in years. Your grandfather's death had hurt you a great deal. He was the one who raised you after your parents death. You had hoped to leave your traumas and problems in Monaco when you left at the ripe age of seventeen to pursue your dreams.

The estate was exactly the same as it was before, posh, proper, it screamed royalty just like the whole of Monaco. You opened the large antique black doors and walked into the place you once called home. You felt as if you were four again. Hugging your teddy bear to your chest, balling your eyes out after you heard the news about your parents private jet crashing. Your grandfather trying his level best to cheer you up, trying to make you laugh. Growing up he would try his level best to be your cheerleader you never had the heart to tell him that his jokes were terrible. He just wasn't the kind of person who would sacrifice everything for just a little girl who now seems to have the world in her hands. The house was empty, all the furniture covered with cream coloured sheets. Dust bunnies all over the place. Your grandfather would have hated to see the house like this. You ran your hands on the railing as you walked to your teenage bedroom. The room hitting you with a wave of nostalgia. The grand bed and the large balcony. You placed your suitcase in a corner. You went to the store room to take out fresh sheets, you'd be staying here for a while, so this needed to feel like home the way it did once. While taking out the sheets, you found the little black book that once was your whole entire life. You ran your hands through the pages of the album, laughing and giggling as you saw photos of you as a rebellious teenage girl, partying, going out with boys that was your whole life at a time but now modelling was your whole life. You wanted to say goodbye to this place in the most grand way possible. It was time to take an idea from that little black book and put it to use. You texted everyone you knew from your childhood.

Your sundress floated around in the warm air as you walked back from the little birthday shop across the street, bags in your hand filled with balloons, banners. You were super excited you had been waiting for a party to come around. Monaco had the best parties and this was going to be one of them.

The sky turned to dusk, and people started to enter the house. You greeted everyone with a smile on your face ready to get this party. The kitchen was filled with expensive booze. The music was loud everyone was in the centre of the living room, giggling and dancing. Couples in the corner making out, people throwing up in the bathroom. It was a typical high school rager just how you liked it. You joined people in the garage, playing beer pong with your high school friends, when you saw a familiar face walk in. It was your older brother's childhood best friend, Charles. Only he wasn't alone, next to him was a curly haired guy, with a small moustache. You waved to Charles as you gestured him to come over.

"Hey Y/N, how are you? I haven't seen you since forever, I heard about your grandfather how have you been doing".

You shot him a smile and engulfed him in a hug, "I am doing fine now, I see racing's been going well".

He let out a chuckle, "It's going".

"Who's your friend". You gestured to the handsome man standing next to Charles.

Charles wrapped an arm around the young man "Oh, yeah this is Lando"

You immediately put your hand forward to shake his hand. His warm hand enveloped your perfectly. It was a perfect fit.

"Hello, I am Lando, nice place you got here"

You told him your name and gave him a smile. When your phone started to ring, it was the young couple who was going to buy your grandfather's estate.

"I am sorry, I have to take this, have fun" You spoke and left the garage

What you didn't expect was the call to leave you in tears. Here you were sitting in your bathroom, crying and clutching your phone tightly in your hands. You quickly wiped your tears as you saw the same man come inside your bathroom, a red solo cup in hand.

"Oh, it's you again, I am sorry I thought no one was here". He spoke nervously looking at his shoes.

You chuckled "It is my home after all"

"Do you mind if I sit here"

"Yeah of course". He grabbed your vanity chair and sat on it. "So why are you crying".

"You saw that, you didn't hear anything right". You spoke suddenly becoming conscious of yourself.

He started to fidget with his fingers "No but do you want to talk about it". You raised your eyebrow at him.

He raised his hands in defence "Geez, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to".

"It's fine, it's just I used to live here with my grandfather after my parents died, now my grandfather's dead and I have come here all the way from New York to sell this house and the buyers who were originally going to buy this house backed out of the deal so now I am left with no buyers and no one who can continue to maintain this house".

His lips fell into a thin straight line, "There are so many people who would love to live here why don't you sell it to one of them".

You let out a sarcastic chuckle, "You don't get it this house is old, it's been here at the same spot in the same state, it's in top notch condition but every single person who wants to buy this house wants to rebuild it from scratch and my grandfather wouldn't like that, heck, he didn't even like me moving to New York".

You saw his face light up as he gave you the biggest smile you had ever experienced, "How about I buy it".

You burst into laughter at his proposition, you pointed a finger at him, "You want to buy this house"

He gave you a perplexed look, "Yeah it's a beautiful house". He pulled out his phone and started to type something, he shoved his phone in your face.

"Lando, Lando Norris" You spoke reading the long Wikipedia page he opened on himself. "So your an f1 driver like Cha, and you want to buy this house".

"Yes" He gave you a wink

"Fine, I'll sell you my house but you have to promise you won't try to rebuild it from scratch like those other dumbasses".

He nodded and linked your pinky finger together, "Promise, for how long are you here though"

"I was gonna be here for a month but now that I have a new buyer I might stay here for an extra month, stay in this house for a little more time before you move in here".

He looked at his phone and his eyes widened, "It's late very late, I'll come tomorrow to see the house then".

"Yeah, pleasure doing business with you" You shook his hand, "I should probably shoo these people away

𐙚

You woke up next morning in the comfort of your bed, stretching your arms you removed your silk sleeping mask and kept it on your nightstand. You walked towards your marble bathroom to get ready for the day. Putting on a cute little white dress, you got out of your bedroom heading downstairs to make some breakfast. This place was starting to feel like home again, but you knew you had to get back to New York, get back to your busy life, to the fashion weeks and flashing lights. Your phone lit up, it was a text message from an unknown number.

It's me Lando, I got your phone number from Charles, I am coming to see the house today, if that's okay with you?

You totally forgot about that, you were drunk out of your mind, you didn't think he was serious but it was worth a shot. He was pretty serious about buying your house. A knock made you come back to earth. You opened the door and were greeted by Lando, "Can I come in"

You opened the door widely, "Welcome to my humble abode".

His smile soon faded and his nose scrunched up, trying to pick up on the burning smell in the kitchen, "What's that smell?".

Oh shit. Your food was burning, you ran into the kitchen and immediately switched the stove off, you threw the burnt toast in the dustbin.

"Sorry, that was my breakfast".

"How about this, I see the house and you and I can go out and get food to finalise the deal".

You looked down at the floor shyly and nodded, "I'd love that".

𐙚

"And this is my bedroom, it's very girly I know but it'd make a perfect guest room, the view is amazing, the coastline, the warm air, the smell of the sea wafting in the air, what more could you ask for". You tried your best to makeup for the kitchen fiasco, worried that your carelessness might cause you the very great deal you had made.

Your blood ran cold when he chuckled, "Did you really think I would cancel our deal over that".

"Yeah"

He walked towards you, "I am serious about buying this house, it's beautiful just like it's owner".

"Is this your way of flirting with me".

He came closer to you, "Maybe".

You patted his chest, swatting him away playfully, "Nice try, we just met".

"Then get to know me".

You gave him a light smirk, "Maybe, after we finish the tour".

"This is the backyard, there's a huge pool over there, for sunbathing and pool parties, we have a small patch over there to grow vegetables and fruits, though it needs some water, ahh here's my favourite part of the backyard the gazebo, the backyard should be enough to knock your socks off along with the view of course". You spoke enthusiastically.

He clapped his hands together, "Your right this is a great investment, I am ready to buy this house right here right now".

You laughed loudly. Your laugh was like music to his ears, "Woah, easy there tiger there are some formalities first".

"Now that the tour is over how about that lunch".

You grabbed your bag from the table, "Fine, fine you got me".

��

You and Lando, took a seat at a small café, surrounded by the serene beauty of Monaco. You could feel him staring at you, trying to hold his laugh, "Why are you dressed like that".

You fiddled with the flimsy menu held together in a small binder, "I thought you would understand, paparazzi, fans, I just don't want to get ambushed".

You admired this place, this little corner where you could come and eat, surrounded by flowers, greenery.

"Unlike you, I actually care about my fans, if anyone asks for a photo you give them what you want".

Taking off your designer sunglasses, you scoffed, "Clearly, your experience has been different". You ushered a waiter over to your table, "Umm, can I have the creamy pesto shrimp pasta and Lando what would you like to have".

The young Brit pointed his finger at some spot in the menu, "I'll have the cacio e pepe".

"So tell me more about yourself, your hobbies, ex-girlfriends". You wiggled your eyebrows amusingly

"Well with formula one I haven't found many hobbies, but I love streaming, I have a twitch account you should check it out, secondly, I have a couple ex-girlfriends".

"Aren't you a casanova".

"I am hardly a casanova, I am just too charming but enough about me and more about you, I want to know about your glamorous life in New York". He spoke taking a sip of his drink

You played around with the small paper straw in your pink lemonade, toying with the huge ice cubes, "It's not as thrilling as racing, but I get to wear pretty clothes, own many bags, get to travel for work a lot and the perks are just an addition but it isn't my favourite thing in the world".

His attention was now all on you his pasta untouched, and his eyes focused on you, "And what is this favourite thing of yours".

"It's quite funny, I don't know that myself".

You noticed how his face shifted, his lips curled into a frown. A guy like him only deserved to smile and looked his best when he was happy, "Then that's what we're going to find out till your here in Monaco".

"Aren't you busy with races". You questioned

He poked his cheek with his tongue giving you a tight lipped smile, "Oh, you can come to them too, cheer me on you know"

"That sounds fun".

"Trust me it is, so what do you want to do first".

You took a bite of your pasta, eyes widening slowly, "What, you mean you want to find my favourite thing now".

He gave his credit card to the young waitress, asking her to get him the cheque, "Yes now".

Here you were walking with 'The Lando Norris'. Holding gelato in your hand staring at the sun setting down."In all my years of living here I never appreciated the coastline until now".

You watched him take a huge bite of the pistachio ice cream in his hand, you knew he was regretting that bite by the look on his face, "Shit, this shit's cold".

"Were you even listening to me". You crossed your arms together forging a playful pout in order to guilt trip him.

"Something about the coastline".

"I guess you were listening".

You couldn't believe the man sitting next to you, eating his gelato and making jokes like a little child, the sun casting a warm glow on his face, enhancing his features you swore you had never seen a man as perfect as him before, "Come on, I'll take you home".

Riding in his Mclaren, your head out the window, your hair flowing in the air, you had never felt this alive before and it was all because of some guy who wanted to buy your house as a favour to you.

Now here he was standing in front of you, dropping you back home after an eventful day with that same droopy smile. There was tension but you couldn't act on it so you just smiled awkwardly, "I had fun today, same time tomorrow?"

"Heck yeah, I won't let you leave till we find that favourite thing of yours".

𐙚

#lando norris #lando norris f1 #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris fluff #lando norris smut #formula 1 #f1 #ln4 #f1 x oc

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sunshine-and-moonshine · 11 months

Text

Cod With Monster!Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Reader is described with some monster features depending on which character, blood drinking, Reader is dead in Ghost’s section, descriptions of blood and a slit throat, a decent amount of spice Soap’s along with some dub-con, also mentions of eating human flesh, Reader is described with a green dress in Soap’s part because it’s part of the mythology that I read, Reader remains Gn though.

A/N: This is the post I got way too into. Soap’s especially is….way too goddamn long.

Price - House Spirit

Price first met you when he moved into his new home. He was annoyed when he thought he had mice, what sounded like their little claws scurrying all under the floorboards and in the cellar, unaware that that was just you moving about. So preoccupied with his own worries, he never wondered how dust never seemed to collect in home, despite him being gone for months at a time, how his clothes and sheets always smelled clean and unwrinkled, or how his dressers were always full despite not actually having done his laundry since he moved in.

It all comes to a head one day when he was home on leave and decided to check his cellar for the first time in the whole 3 years he’d technically lived here. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t even know he’d come home that day and were too busy reorganizing your little nest in the back corner of the room to hear the door open or his heavy footsteps coming down the steps. Not until you could feel his bewildered gaze staring holes into the back of your head.

Things from there were….tense. He wanted to believe that you were some strange person who was either trying to rob him or maybe someone who was suffering mentally and was confused. Something that didn’t fuck up his entire concept of reality and what was real and myth. That was, until he got a good look at your little horns, your long and floppy, almost bunny like, ears, and the swishing tail behind you. He promptly backed himself up the stairs and slammed the door to the cellar shut.

It took another week or so before he went back into the cellar, but this time you were hidden away from his eyes. It took some coaxing from him to get you to reveal yourself, promises that he wouldn’t hurt you or try and force you to leave. Once you did come out, he was all questions, what you were, why you were here, why you were staying in the fucking cellar of all places when he had a bed he didn’t even sleep in when he was home.

After that, things were a bit rocky but….almost domestic. He enjoyed coming home and seeing your ears perk up so cutely when he walked through the door, or how your tail swished a bit faster when he greeted you kindly. Overall, he enjoys your presence and it’s no skin off his back if you want to do all the cleaning that he can’t be bothered with on his few lazy days. Or if you feel like cooking for him when he comes home. Or if you wake him from his ptsd induced nightmares, touching his face and holding his hand, making him warm tea and something to eat to help stop his shaking.

The only thing he insists on is that you move out of the cellar and into an actual room.

Gaz - Dullahan

Gaz met you when he was lost in the woods, a chopper having crashed and left him stranded in the middle of nowhere. He was thirsty and hungry, having run out of emergency rations and water days ago, with nothing nearby to help him. He was on Death’s door, his eyes heavy, his stomach long since having stopped it’s rumbling, body weak and feeling like lead. But, as his eyes began to close, he heard the strangest thing just before he lost consciousness.

The beating of hooves on the ground beside him.

When he came to, Gaz was feeling significantly less thirsty and weak, but still very much tired. The warmth of whatever he was laying on brought him a sense of ease and relaxation.

Until he registered that what he was laying on was ever so subtly moving up and down. At the same time that he made this realization, something cold and wet nudged at the palm of his hand, making him shoot upright. Whatever it was startled at this and snorted almost angrily, making him lose his balance and fall back.

What he saw only confused him. A large black horse with a long mane and tail, it’s eyes completely white and leaving him feeling cold every time he looked into them.

And then a voice, your voice, calling out to the giant creature. “Dubhshláine, come.” You said, and it did, but not before sniffing at Gaz’s face one more time before it trotted over to your side. Then Gaz was pushing himself back up, eyes searching for the source of the voice, almost shouting when he saw the headless body that was petting the snout of the great beast.

It took….a while for you to calm him down, frantically trying to keep him from running, your voice shouting from somewhere that he needed to calm down and that he shouldn’t move when he was like this. But his struggle only ended when he was practically dry heaving in your arms, dizzy from trying to exert himself like that when he was recovering from dehydration and starvation.

Things went a bit smoother after that, at least, once you reattached your head and offered him some berries and meat that he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to eat, despite you insisting that it was just goose. He did end up eating it though, if only to stave off the incessant rumbling of his belly. And that night, as he let you guide him into a cave and helped him into a large pile of warm furs, you promised him that you’d help him get home.

But he couldn’t help but think that going home meant he’d never be able to hear your soothing voice again.

Ghost - Poltergeist

Ghost is someone who goes to thrift stores every once and a while. A habit of his, as he doesn’t like to spend too much money, and part of him likes to see what sort of things other people have collected and gotten rid of over the years. Priceless things and useless things alike. Normally he sticks to buying little, only things he needs, like a cheap and worn t-shirt because his last one finally became too ripped to wear in public.

But on that day, something else caught his eye. A simple and small Jade necklace tied on a black string. His fingers brush over it, running his thumb over the hole in the middle where the string was tied. Ghost should have known something was wrong then, as he never took interest in jewelry. Ever.

The owner seemed to take notice of his attention and told him to just take it, as it had been sitting on the rack for ages, longer than he could remember. What he didn’t tell Ghost was that people constantly avoided it, avoided even looking at it, even the owner himself. It instilled a sense of dread and fear, and made people’s hearts race. The owner had tried to simply throw it out but it ended up right back on that rack, time and time again. And if it wasn’t making this strange masked man uncomfortable then he was more then welcome to take the fucking thing off of his hands.

Ghost is surprised at the offer but accepts after a moment of hesitation. The necklace becomes sort of a good luck charm for him, and he rarely, if ever, takes it off. It’s always so warm against him (it grew almost scorching whenever he took off his clothes), making him feel a sense of security that he wasn’t sure that he ever felt before.

But soon things…changed. He noticed that if he neglected to touch the necklace for a certain length of time, things would happen around him. Things moving from where he left them, pictures falling from walls, objects jumping off of shelves. Like a brat throwing a temper tantrum after being denied attention. It was something that he brushed off time and time again as the wind or loose nails or whatever other thing he could think of. Ghost didn’t believe in the paranormal.

At least, he didn’t. But when he wakes up in the middle of the night to hands oh so gently petting his face and chest, an eerie and croaky sounding cry echoing quietly in the room, he starts to believe just a little bit. His eyes slowly peek open when your hand on his face drifts down to cup the back of his neck, your other hand going from his chest to his hip as you press soft and sweet kisses to his chest, focusing particularly around the necklace that laid in the center of his skin. He only got a good look at you when you started rubbing your cheek against his clavicle, that same noise as earlier coming from your mouth.

And god when he saw you.

Your throat was slit open, that much he could make out, wide and deep, so deep that it must have damaged your vocal cords, which explained why you sounded so croaky. The blood from the cut was all down your front, staining your once white t-shirt and the panties that adorned your body. And you looked almost see through, but Ghost could certainly feel how corporeal you were.

Ghost’s eyes quickly shut again when you started to move, straddling his hips as you pressed those same kisses to his face before curling yourself against him, burying your face into his neck. You seemed…..lonely, almost. And Ghost decided he could work with lonely, especially when he had been left feeling the same way for the longest time.

Soap - Baobhan sith

It was a stupid wish, made in the dead of night, when he was lonely and sleep deprived on a mission in the middle of nowhere, his comrades sleeping around him on the forest floor while he took the watch shift. It was a wish for companionship, to not be as lonely as he often felt. Sure, he had the 141, but the 141 were family. Not a lover that would hold him tight, press kisses to his lips, tell him that he was loved and cherished.

And that was when you appeared. He didn’t see you at first, too lost in his own thoughts. You only caught his attention when you shifted, your curious and mischievous eyes peeking out at him from behind a tree trunk. He was stunned for lack of a better word, especially when you came out fully, your long green dress dragging on the ground. What were you doing out here?

He called for you quietly, his voice full of concern. Were you hurt? Looking for help? Lost? He stepped closer but you stepped back, gesturing for him to follow you, to chase you. And it was stupid that he listened. He was a soldier and he was leaving his sleeping comrades defenseless. He shouldn’t have set his gun down and took off after you, no matter how worried he was. But something about you was clouding his judgment, making him lose his way.

He stumbled through brambles and branches, through bushes and mud, your giggling the only sign that he was even going the right way. And then finally, a break in the darkness. A little homey cottage, the sudden light almost feeling blinding to his retinas. But when he opened his eyes again, you were there, excitedly beckoning him again, coaxing him into what was supposedly your house.

Soap knew he should turn back, should wake away, but his body only moved forward, his mind a fog of confused desire as you pulled him in for a kiss, your back pressed against the door. He was putty under your touch, just waiting to be molded into whatever shape you wished for, whatever shape pleased you best.

And apparently what pleased you was having him under you on your soft bed, riding his cock for your pleasure and your pleasure only, batting away his hands every time he tried to touch you. He was desperate for it, for more of you, like you were a drug he’d never be able to come back from, that he’d never stop craving.

And then you came and all he could think of was how you were pulling away, how wanting he was, how he couldn’t let you leave him like this. He didn’t notice the red in your eyes or how sharp your teeth became, how you started to go for his wide open neck, his blood pumping so deliciously fast for you.

And then you were flipped, so distracted by the thought of your own meal that you didn’t notice that he’d grabbed you until it was too late. He pushed your face into the pillows as you started to wiggle, his other hand clenching the meat of your hip tightly to keep you still as he plowed back into you, making you cry out in surprise and pleasure.

He’s overcome with the need for his own pleasure. With the need to drown himself in the pleasure your body gave him. His cock was twitching, he was so close. So so close. He needed it, needed it more than he needed the air in his lungs. He leaned in-

And you screamed.

Your cry was loud and sharp, like a banshee’s wail ringing in his ears. It shattered the haze in his mind, sent the wool flying from his eyes. He looked down and he saw your skin steaming from where his dog tags had touched your back. You seemed relieved with them gone, your body shaking under him, snarling at him over your shoulder.

It clicked for him suddenly, everythinh falling into place like one horrible puzzle that was missing its final piece. He’d grown up on old stories and legends of creatures that harmed humans, ate them down to their bones but were repelled by iron. His tags were steel, so he supposed they were close enough to iron to merit their effect on you.

You watched him. He watched you.

And then all at once he was moving again, finding your little squeak of surprise both amusing and cute. You were confused but he had never been more certain in his life. As he used you like his own personal whore, his mind was made up. You were his now. You couldn’t leave him. You were the first person in so long to take away the loneliness, the pain.

He flipped you onto your back, holding your hands above your head with one hand as the other whipped his dog tags over his head, wrapping them around your wrists as you hissed at him, bucking wildly. It only served to impale you further on his cock, making him groan with delight before his mouth was on your skin, nails raking down your sides now that you were successfully restrained. And he didn’t stop til you were a drooling whimpering mess on his cock, his cream dripping from your sore hole as he pressed kisses along your face and hands. Showing you how good he could please you and take care of you.

And then, you’d come with him, right? You chose him that night in the woods, and he chose you right back. Except instead of a quick meal, you ended up with a Sergeant who was head over heels for you and refused to leave you out in your woods all alone.

At least he was cute.

947 notes · View notes

icallhimjoey · 27 days

Text

Reinvent Love

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Joe are treading new waters. You’re no longer flatmates, but still close. More than friends, but nothing defined. Nothing labeled. Determined to not lose what you have, though. But, can you?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, language, adult themes, fluff, season 3 of my flatmate!joe

Author’s note: uh-oh here we GO! the girls voted and the girls won, so here we are! the no-longer-flatmates-flatmate fic - you don’t need to have read define close or explain us, but it’ll obviously give you backstory, which might help!

Wordcount: 3.2K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was only small, but definitely there. Ugly. Green. Growing. With potential to do real harm. It crawled around and scoped him out, exploring his heart from all different angles, carefully tasting it.

It hadn’t bitten him yet, but Joe knew if he lost sight of it – if he stopped trying to control it – that eventually, it would. And it would hurt. It didn’t exactly feel great now, but once it’d sink its teeth in, Joe knew he’d be done for.

He remembered when it still good. Still nice. Warm. And soft. And joyous, all full of love.

It used to be kind and sweet and would make him smile until his cheeks were quite literally cramping.

But it’d changed. It’d turned bad.

He wished he could’ve seen it coming.

It was a good thing that he found he was able to easily control it with rational thought. Problem was that rational thought had the habit of abandoning him once it got dark outside and he was alone in his flat.

His new flat.

Where everything was his.

Where everything got put in places that he chose. All his things were where he wanted them, all catering towards his routine. Which was why a basket of underwear made it into a bathroom cupboard, and why a shelf got put up near the balcony door, so he had a place to keep his cigarettes and a lighter. Gone were the days of rummaging through coat pockets ‘til he found what he was looking for.

It was sort of great, Joe wasn’t going to lie, living on his own.

It didn’t look quite as nice, not quite as homey, but Joe was sure he’d soon learn what the place was missing. He didn’t worry about it. There were more important things to worry about. Like, how quick dust built up into bunnies underneath the sofa and how every time he’d open his front door, it’d waft out from underneath, only to settle in the middle of the room for everyone to see. Or how somehow he panicked so much about keeping his plants alive that he was systematically overwatering all of them.

Idiot.

It was fine.

Rational thinking.

It was all fine.

Things were different now.

Good different.

“Oh, you shouldn’t have!” Joe joked as he let you in, pointing out the large bouquet of flowers in your hands.

His place already smellt amazing. Joe made a good roast, and had one going now, things in the oven, bubbling and simmering away.

“If I never did things I shouldn’t do, life would be very boring,” you said, laying the colourful bunch down on his island.

“Did... wait, did you actually get those for me?”

“Have you got a vase?” you were already opening cabinet doors. “You don’t, do you?”

When you didn’t get a reply, you turned to see Joe stare at the flowers. He looked a little dumbfounded.

“Joe?”

“Hmm?” he looked up at you and blinked a few times. “Oh, um...” he squeezed his eyes shut a second, trying to gather his thoughts.

Took too long, you thought.

“A vase?” you repeated, trying very hard to keep a straight face, to not let the smallest inkling of a smile slip through.

“Sorry, I don’t... I don’t think I’ve got a vase.”

Why the fuck would he own a vase, Joe thought.

“I’ll get you one as a housewarming gift,” you found a pitcher. “This’ll do for now.”

There was evidence on the counter of what Joe had been in the middle of, cutting veggies, preparing the gravy. But as you filled the pitcher with water, Joe still kind of hovered in the same spot in silence. Looked at the flowers that you’d brought in and felt silly for how those made him feel.

When you placed the pitcher in the middle of the island and reached for the bouquet, you broke his trance, and Joe softly laughed at himself.

“This is... my God, this is so sweet? I don’t think I’ve ever gotten flowers before.”

“Well,” you smiled back, about to throw stones into your own windows. “I didn’t get them for you.”

“Oh?” Joe immediately felt embarrassed. Mortified. Felt the skin of his neck flush with heat.

“I got them for your flat.”

Got him.

Joe let out the breath he was holding in defeat, dropping his head and smiling. Scoffed softly at himself because you were joking, and he was an idiot.

“You know, give it some colour. Give me something nice to look at when I’m here.” you plopped the flowers into the pitcher and didn’t get the chance to make it look nice, to arrange it a little, because before you could, you got picked up by the waist and shaken about. You shriek-laughed a loud, “No!”

“Something nice to look at?” Joe pressed his face into your cheek as you squealed through your giggles.

“Am I not nice to look at, huh?” Joe squeezed extra tight before he put you down, turning you in his arms and keeping you real close.

“You’re nice to look at,” you said sweetly, still grinning widely, nose nudging up at his. “If I could put you in a vase and arrange you all nice, I would.”

Joe snorted, and you felt it on your face.

“Hmm. You’re funny.”

You got kissed by soft lips that almost felt shy to kiss you.

“Don’t get me a vase.”

And then you got kissed a little harder. Bit more firm.

“I’ll get my own.”

“No,” you objected, speaking right into his mouth. “You’ll get a stupid one with like, frosted writing on, or something. Live, love, laugh.”

You felt Joe’s smile as he kissed you harder, both arms squeezing as they wrapped around your waist tighter. You sighed into Joe’s affection and took great comfort in the fact that you were alone. You were outside of your flat, which was still wild in your opinion, but at least you were alone.

Alone was good.

Joe’d gotten into the habit of showing affection when you were around others, around strangers, and you didn’t think you were ever going to get used to it.

The first time Joe reached to hold your hand, you’d nearly had a panic attack.

It wasn’t very cold, but the wind was cutting. Hurt your forehead as you walked and made you hunch as you pulled up your shoulders to shield yourself as best you could. Joe’s hand finding yours was a welcome warmth for your cold fingers, but it still made you fall silent as you tensed up.

Joe just held on for a few steps, and looked at you. You could see him stare from your peripheral, could feel the burn of it high up in your cheeks, and tried your best to ignore it.

“You can relax.” Joe humorously said, speaking softly and leaning in a little to make sure you could hear him.

“I am relaxed.” You immediately argued, because holding hands with Joe shouldn’t be weird. It should actually be normal. You tangled up with your full bodies more days than you didn’t when you shared a flat. If anything, Joe’s touches were exactly what turned you lax, all floppy and boneless.

“S’just cold.”

“Hmm,” Joe sounded unsure, very obviously not believing you, and squeezed your fingers a couple of times. When you didn’t smile, Joe let his own drop too, and asked if you were okay.

“Fine.” You reassured, growing a little defensive. If Joe could just stop talking about it, that’d be great.

“Should I– do you want me to let go?”

“No, it’s okay.” You said, sounding a little squeaky, but you doubled down with a squeeze of your own.

Joe took it, accepted it, albeit a little unsure if maybe he’d made the wrong move here. But you’d walked along, and you held hands, and when you fell into random conversation again, holding your hand became something Joe stopped thinking about. He absentmindedly rubbed his thumb along yours, and at one point used his grasp to pull you in front of him when you had to share a narrow bit of pavement with oncomers.

You weren’t like Joe.

Not for a single second had you been able to be as casual about it as Joe had been.

You focussed on your hand the whole while you walked, and couldn’t help but check to see if others were looking at it. If strangers that passed you looked down at your hands. To check if they could see. If they somehow knew that you’d never done this before.

You had.

But not like this. Not outside. Not in public.

It wasn’t that you didn’t want to hold Joe’s hand, but there was something about this new phase you were in, where Joe walked over to yours to pick you up to go out for dinner together. Where he had to ring the doorbell and ask if he could quickly come up to use the toilet before you left. Where he pretended he didn’t know where the bathroom was and made you show him the way. Where he faked being anxious when you left your flat, saying that he hoped you liked the restaurant he booked a table at. Where he nervously asked if you liked Italian food, as if you hadn’t shared a million pizzas together.

Things were different now, and although you were close, would often do everything you could to dissolve into his skin, walking hand in hand through the streets of London felt insane. Like you were moving too fast, even though you understood how silly that sounded.

You’d spent that entire walk thinking of a natural reason to let go of his hand, and Joe had felt your fingers twitch. Felt how you seemed to change you mind about it every three seconds. But, you’d said he could hold onto you, so, he simply did.

It wasn’t until you reached the restaurant and used the heavy door as an excuse to wiggle your fingers from Joe’s hand, using both of yours to pull it open.

Baby steps, Joe thought as he smirked to himself, astonished that he’d gotten to hold your hand out in public for over ten minutes.

He was sure you’d slap him away the second he even attempted to intertwine your fingers together.

Which, coincidentally, was exactly what you did the first time Joe tried to lean in for a quick peck on the lips as you said goodbye to each other outside of his flat.

You’d been out, and were both in a bit of a rush to get home. You thought that the way you’d hugged his arm for a second was plenty goodbye. You’d pressed the side of your face to his bicep and said you’d see him later.

You’d reached the point where you wanted to go cross the street as Joe would walk the other way to get to his front door, and when you tried to step away, he yanked you right back by the elbow.

The way you recoiled away from him was so extreme, it startled Joe. You almost made it look like he was about to hit you.

“Jesus,” he mumbled under his breath, and you immediately apologised. You stepped back closer to him, were about to accept a quick kiss as an apology, but let your eyes nervously dart around to see if there were other people. If there were witnesses.

Joe just looked at you, blinked a few times and then, instead of leaning in for a quick kiss, squeezed you in your side.

“Calm down. Call me when you get home.”

And you’d blushed at how Joe’d smiled at you before he turned to head inside. Your face had remained hot until you got home where you then had to take a moment to shake all the nervous jitters from your body.

It was such a weird spot to be in, Joe thought.

How he couldn’t get too close if there was the slightest chance of someone seeing, but to have you literally whine at him inbetween his sheets if he didn’t touch you in the right spot with the right pressure at the right speed.

But steps were being made in the right direction.

You each had you own place now, and Joe made a point to sometimes not see you for a few days. He kind of enjoyed getting to miss you. He liked how his stomach did flips when you’d ring his doorbell after not having been over for a few days. He liked how absence made his heart grow fonder, and how that felt healthy.

Joe assumed you felt the same way; maybe you didn’t like it as much as he did, but surely you also understood how this was at least more normal.

He never thought that what the two of you were before was toxic.

It was just... weird.

Good weird.

But this was better.

Still a little weird, he wasn’t going to lie. But better.

He got to tell you to call him when you got home now. He got to invite you over to his flat for Sunday roast now. And you would then come and bring him flowers now.

Joe had never received flowers before. Well, maybe he had. But not like this. Not from a girl who brought them just for him. Just because. He kind of loved it. Kind of loved you.

“God, you were right.” Joe said, eyes unblinking, comfortably staring.

Both satisfied and full after an early dinner, the two of you laid out on Joe’s sofa - the one that took six weeks and then two more to arrive - and both looked at the bouquet up on the kitchen island. You were tucked into his side, with one of his arms slung around your frame. You held one of his hands with both of yours and absentmindedly played with his fingers.

“I don’t know how this works but they kind of make the whole room look better.”

“They do.” You agreed, smiling, because you did that. You turned your head, tilting up to look at Joe’s face. “Please let me pick out a vase for you, though.”

Joe’s grin slowly grew as he said, “Absolutely not. Might just keep the pitcher for flowers only, I kind of like it.”

“Ugh,” you grimaced. “This is such a boy’s flat.”

“Well,” Joe started, raising his eyebrows, finally breaking eye-contact with the fresh bloom, tucking in his chin to look down at you. “I am a boy, so, that checks out.”

For a moment you just looked at each other, smiling, cuddled up into the corner like you always were cuddled up into the corner together. When you saw Joe flick his eyes down to your lips, you pulled the hand you were still holding closer to bite right into the skin between his index finger and thumb.

Joe pretended to flinch, but you were barely leaving marks as you smiled through the bite, big eyes looking up at him. Joe took a moment to just take you in. The way you looked at him had him biting his own lip before he tried to grab hold of one of your hands to pull into his mouth.

You were already scream-laughing and trying your best to pull your hand away before he even got close. It left you in a wrestling pile of limbs, Joe with his mouth open, growling and ready to bite at whatever got close enough. He ended up getting at bit of your sleeve in between his teeth, pinning you down into the soft seat-cushions and he felt drunk with joy.

He was so fucking happy.

Pretty girl in his flat, giggling away on his sofa, and she’d brought him flowers. It was kind of disgusting how he’d turned to goop on the inside.

Joe didn’t wait for your giggles to die out to get his lips on yours and kiss you silly.

There was something living inside Joe’s chest.

It was sticky and sugary sweet and Joe loved the taste it.

Loved how it bubbled over and leaked into his stomach.

Loved how it swirled into his limbs and made him reach for your hand to hold when you were walking outside.

Loved how it made him put his arm around your shoulders to pull you tightly into his side as you waited to get your coffees whilst the barista prepared them.

Loved how it grew as he took the lead on this new way of being together the way you had done before when you still lived together.

It made Joe want to introduce you to someone as his girlfriend, knowing full well that you hadn’t had that conversation yet, and that you’d likely have a melt down, but God.

It was just what he wanted to do, he couldn’t help it.

He wouldn’t.

There was a high probability that you’d actually murder him if he pulled a stunt like that.

The fact that you were kissing like this outside of your flat right now was already sort of stretching it, Joe knew.

You let Joe kiss you on his sofa for a minute. Let him slide his nose around yours with an open mouth that hovered over yours inbetween kisses. He made you work for it, having to lift up your head for more when he teased you for too long.

When you felt how Joe started readjusting his position on top of you, you knew you had to break it off.

“Hmm– Joe, no, I gotta–”

“Hm?”

“I gotta go, there’s– stop, there’s a potential flatmate coming over in a bit, I gotta– Joe!”

Joe finally broke away with an annoyed grumble leaving his throat as he did.

“Fine.”

“I can... I could always come back after?”

Joe shifted enough to let you escape the sofa.

“Hmm, you could, but I do have an early morning, so it’s probably not worth the trouble.” Joe sighed, lying back with an arm curled behind his head, watching you twist your clothes so it all sat right again.

“No?”

“I’ll probably be asleep by the time you make it back here.”

“Well,” you started, slinging your arms into your coat. “All depends on how long this is going to take. If it’s another 19-year-old trying to negotiate for a 30-70 rent split first thing, I’ll only be a second.”

“God, for your sake, I hope it’s not another student. But for my sake...” Joe made big eyes, giving you a suggestive look that broke into a smile when you laughed.

You gave Joe a last quick kiss as you bent over the sofa and told him you’d see him later, all casual.

Joe’s smile lingered as he watched you walk out.

“Call me when you get home!”

Yea... there was something living inside Joe’s chest.

And it was cuddly and fuzzy and comfortable and good...

For now.

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @solzi1420, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close #explain us #reinvent love

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cobaltfluff · 1 year

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the black or white i7 MVs?!?!?! THEY'RE SO GOOD?!?!?

HOL UP are they made by the same studio that did the readyyy project MVs???? they have a very similar vibe??!!?

edit: it seems like it from the video descriptions?!?! thank you dandelion animation studio for ending the year in such an amazing way

#i7 #idolish7 #dust bunny #i was like ok 3d probs kamikaze douga #but like??? everything was such a different vibe?!#ESPECIALLY the camerawork #like i love kamikaze douga's works #particularly their facial expressions and close up slowmo cuts haha #but this is just so energetic and fits a concert vibe so much more #this genuinely is the smartest way I've connected two dots this year #actually blessed im so happy #i really enjoyed their style in the readyyy mvs #and the rabbitube videos!!#man i wish we had this quality in the anime lol #i mean love live gets the good stuff too 🥺#isn't it crazy how the readyyy mvs made such an impression on me 4 years ago #that i would recognise the studio's style even today

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chronic-claire-universe · 7 months

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Tokyo Revengers: Daddy's Girls And Their Nicknames

Hello dust bunnies. I came up with this little headcanons, the dads are back and they're the softest ever. Here for you, dads with the prettiest nickname for their daughter

Characthers: Hajime Kokonoi, Ran Haitani, Shuji Hanma

Warnings: None, Fluff, Daddy's Girl, Pregnancy

Hajime Kokonoi calls his daughter Hiname jewel. There's nothing that values more than his little girl, something that money couldn't ever buy in a lifetime: the love and then the physical embodiment of your love for each other, crafted in a 4 years old blackhaired girl with her father'eyes shape and your e/c and your smile. Sometimes she can be the spoiled and most sassy little girl ever but to Koko, she will always be his valued jewel that he can be proud of and show her off even after saying the most degrading comment about her nanny, "Is this how you came out of your apartment to come here for me? Let me ask daddy if we can do online shopping for you Miss Nami", Koko proudly nod and gives the nanny his black card "That's my jewel, show her how to do shopping", he says before waving goodbye holding your hand, leaving a clueless nanny, confused by your daughter behaviour and her father casually giving her his black card just to do some shopping, money is not as important as his jewel's happiness.

Ren Haitani is yours and Ran's perfect miracle, highly desired by the man, your daughter had her nickname even before being born: water lily. The man secretly wanted from the start of the relationship to be father of a pretty girl that inherited his blond hair and violet eyes and this what happened after years together. The newborn is the sweetest, but just like her father she gets really cranky if she doesn't have her proper sleep when she needs it. It's still weird for you to see how she calms down only when her father's hold her and start pronouncing her nickname instantly calming the baby down "Water lily? My my you need your beauty sleep if you want to grow up as pretty and strong like your mommy and daddy" Ren blinks her eyes and seize her whimpers as soon as she hears the nickname and soon she cooes her tiny fist into her father's chest falling asleep leaving you flabbergasted on how easily it was for Ran to calm her down, he sure knows how to handle your daughter but you're not sure how this is the possible by just pronouncing his nickname for her.

Shuji Hanma plays with fire, everything was unplanned with Emiko, since her conceivement to her gender. Hanma got you pregnant accidentaly but you decided to welcome this as soon as you've seen his best effort into taking responsabilities. At one point Hanma kept bragging on how he felt you were going to have a son since your baby kicked so hard in your belly that it couldn’t be a "frail little girl". Boy was he wrong, his little pumpkin is the sweetest thing ever just like you but sometimes she can show her hidden side just like a pumpkin does with the right ingredient. The toddler is learning to walk and she's the brightest one ever, coeeing and walking everywhere, gripping into her fathers pants from the floor and let them fall, and soon pouting to be held by her tall father and lean to him as she didn't cause shenaningans just one minute before all over the living room.

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#tokyo revengers #hajime kokonoi #ran haitani #hanma shuji #tokyo revengers fluff #kokonoi x reader #ran haitani x reader #shuji hanma x reader #kokonoi fluff #shuji hanma fluff #ran haitani fluff #haitani brothers #tokyo revengers dads #tokyo revengers x reader

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maiko-san · 5 months

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TADC x Robotic Jester! Reader (Part 2)

Part 1

Since part 1 doing so well, I'll be making part 2

ft. Jax, Gangle

You're not really sure how time really works in the digital circus, but who cares anyway? You just live your own life here without worrying about anything especially your human past.

You're at The Tent, practicing your skill on a tricycle while juggling lit torches in your hands and on a tightrope.

Ragatha had gone to her room to rest while Kinger is in his pillow fort, probably thinking about his insect collection.

You were too focus juggling the torches and not noticing a pair of scissors cutting the rope. The last thing you hear was a 'snap' and then you fall on the ground quite comically ( in cartoony way ) followed by a laughter. You let out a groan and shakes your head, you couldn't help but growl as turn your head to face the culprit.

It was the newcomer, Jax.

JAX

Number 1 pain the as#&! in the entire circus. You don't like him one bit ever since he first appeared.

He loves tormenting others and saying "I love to see something funny happen to people" follow that stupid grin of his.

"Hahahaha! Look how funny you look when you fall, you look so stupid!" he laughed. Your teeth clenched together. "It's not funny....rabbit" you said, standing up and dusting your clothes.

Sometimes you have the urge to throw him into the void but Caine somehow can hear your thoughts and tell you not to or he will confiscate all of your items and give you a timeout.

"It would be more funny if you were to set on fire— oh wait, you already are!" Jax grins, you stare at him in disbelief. You take a whiff and you swore you smell something burning, your tail kinda feels hot for some reason.

You turn your head to see that the tip of your tail is on fire.

Let's just say, Jax loves tormenting you the most. You remind him of those cartoon characters in tv shows!

Some of his pranks can be overboard and there are times it causes you to become malfunction all thanks to his pranks especially when he pours water into your joint circuits, causing your limbs to twist uncontrollably.

He doesn't care that he hurts someone (or even cares about their feelings). Knowing that Caine could fix/solves everything with a snap of his fingers.

Jax is straight up a bunny from hell.

None of the others like Jax including you.

You just don't know what his problem is but if he ever dares to hurt your friends with his silly pranks, you won't hesitate to throw him into the void.

You roll your eyes and sigh, with him around the area making you lose interest in training. So, you decide to leave and go back to your room or go to Ragatha's.

After a few days had passed, a new human had appeared in the circus.

Gangle

A ribbon with a mask? She's an odd one.

The very first moment she arrived, she was nervous and scared.

Caine was about to give her a name until Jax decided to name her himself.

"How about Gangle? They do move so 'graceful' " he said with a proud grin on his face, you look at him in disbelief. Seriously? That just mean! ( Gangle means moves ungracefully ). Before you could protest about the name, Caine just agreed with the suggestion he have given.

"Well! Gangle, welcome to your new home!" Caine smiles.

For the first few days, Gangle did really well actually. You notice that she has two masks with her, that is her comedy mask and tragedy mask.

Gangle is very light since she was made out of ribbons, if you run past her the poor girl gets knocked down by the wind and breaks her mask at the same time.

You did it once and you feel guilty for doing so.

So you remind yourself to always be careful whenever you're around her.

Gangle really appreciates how you are so careful and gentle around her, unlike Jax who pushes her on purpose whenever he feels like it.

Every time she breaks her comedy mask, you would offer to fix it for her but she softly declines.

"Wah!" again, Jax tripped her over when she walks past him. Her comedy mask falls off her tragic mask and smashes on the floor, "My...my comedy mask" Gangle sobs as she holds up a piece of her shattered mask.

She sighs to herself and picks up the mask piece by the piece, she stops when a hand hovers her.

She looks up to see Ragatha, Kinger and you. You couldn't help but let out a scoff, glaring at the rabbit "Seriously, Jax? Again." you glare at the purple rabbit. "Pfft. What? Not my fault that she doesn't see it coming~" he said, closing his eyes as he shrugs off what he has just done.

Gangle and Ragatha could see that you're on your last straw. Your limbs extend and wrap themselves around the rabbit, causing Jax to blink in surprise.

The next thing, Jax was thrown out of the tent. There was a Jax shaped hole left on the roof of the tent, indicating he was thrown high up.

Gangle didn't expect for you to do it, she was shocked. She appreciates that you stood up for her but at the same time, feeling that she's a burden.

You assure her that it wasn't a problem and tell her if Jax ever bothers her again with his silly pranks, don't be afraid to tell you :D.

A/N :

State in the wiki, Jax gets to choose his own name when he first arrive and he also chooses Gangle's name too.

If you're thinking that "Jax is too mean!' that's what he is, he's just a straight up a-hole and a sociopath(?).

#tadc x reader #tadc kinger #tadc ragatha #tadc caine #tadc pomni #tadc jax #the amazing digital circus gangle #the amazing digital circus jax #the amazing digital circus #the amazing digital circus zooble #tadc #jax x reader #ragatha x reader #pomni x reader #gangle x reader #zooble x reader #caine x reader #kinger x reader

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the-kr8tor · 10 months

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Snow and Piercings

Pairing: Hobie Brown x GN Reader/ Spider-punk x GN reader.

Word count: 1.8k

Tags: established relationship, No use of Y/N, no specific physical description, fluff, tw needles, smut only implied. SFW

Synopsis: Snowed in, Hobie's bored out of his mind, he suggests to pierce your ears.

* I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Getting snowed in when you were a kid was the best- no school, watching cartoons the whole day, and drinking hot cocoa. Now being an adult and getting snowed in isn't as fun as when you were younger. Work was canceled due to the extreme weather, so you and Hobie use the time to catch up on chores around the flat, again not that fun. Well at least you don't have to go to work, and best of all there's no crime happening in the city, therefore you have Hobie all to yourself.

The only downside to having Hobie at home all day is that he's an absolute menace. With no crime being reported, Hobie's bored out of his damn mind, without him spider-manning around the city, he has all this pent up energy that he currently has no outlet for. He tries to use up all his pent up energy by trying to make chores fun- he throws the laundry across the room towards the washing machine like a basketball, all the laundry goes in the machine without challenge, with his enhanced senses it quickly becomes boring.

You suggested that he crawl up the ceiling with a broom to clean the cobwebs. But it ended up making more of a mess, you underestimated how dirty the ceiling was with dust bunnies floating down on your head like snow. You both ended up vacuuming the entire place twice.

Finally, with the flat all clean and the laundry all folded, and a quick shower. The both of you can finally relax and enjoy your day off.

You were finishing up making hot cocoa for the both of you, when Hobie suggested that he pierce your ears, your left helix specifically.

Hobie Hugs your middle as you pour hot cocoa in both your cups. The air sickenly sweet from the chocolate drink. A smile spreads across your face when Hobie lovingly rubs his face on your back.

"C'mon lovey, I'll be gentle." He pleads, he's being incredibly sweet, he thinks if he butters you up and gives you enough hugs you'll eventually say yes. He's right, though you wouldn't admit it to him.

"Babe, you're just bored. Why don't you fiddle with your guitar for a bit" you say as you hand him his mug of hot chocolate. You turn your back at him to grab something from the cupboard.

"Fiddle?" He sounds offended "First of all I don't 'fiddle' with my guitar, and second of all-" his drink sloshes to the side while he animatedly makes finger quotes when he says fiddle.

He pauses as he notices his mug without marshmallows. "Love, you forgot my mallows" he stretches his mug to show you.

You plop the aforementioned marshmallows in his mug. "No I didn't, and again you're just bored, we'll find something to do eventually" You head to the living room, Hobie following right behind you.

You turned towards him "We could watch a movie, or something to get your heart pumping perhaps?" You wink at him, while sipping from your mug.

"I'll take you up on that offer" Hobie chuckles at your implication.

Hobie grabs your waist with his free hand pulling you towards him. Your heart immediately racing at his reaction, you're sure he could hear it with his enhanced hearing.

Hobie closes the distance between the two of you, his lips ghosting over yours. You hold your free hand to his neck leading him towards you but he doesn't budge. You close your eyes and wait for the kiss but it doesn't come, you open one eye to see what's the hold up. Hobie pulls away from you while chuckling into his mug.

"You're awful" you feign annoyance, but your smile gives it away. You throw a couch pillow at him, he dodges it smoothly. Right, spidey sense you forgot for a second.

Hobie smirks at you through his mug.

You fake an annoyed sigh "If I say yes, will you stop being a menace?" You make it sound like you finally got annoyed by his antics by letting him win. But you actually wanted to get your helix pierced for a while now, you're just terrified of the pain, and for the aftercare? You're definitely gonna forget to clean it. But now with Hobie offering to pierce it himself, you now have an excuse to get it. And with a little charm on the side, Hobie will definitely help you clean it.

Knowing that Hobie will be the one piercing, you know you'll be taken care of during and after the procedure.

"No promises" He puts his mug down on a nearby table. "Stay there" he points at you as he speed walks to your bedroom to grab his kit.

You bring the mug to your lips to drink, but get startled when Hobie appears back in the living room, clutching the kit in one hand, "you can't change your mind!" he excitedly raises his voice. You can't blame him for his excitement, since there's not much happening today, you're just glad he finally gets some of that pent up energy out.

You watch him move all over the flat while sipping your drink. He goes to the kitchen opening the top cupboard with his web, he sticks to the wall on the side and crawls up to grab a box of gloves. He then shoots his webs at another cupboard at the end and yanks it back to open the cabinet, Hobie then crawls all over the newly cleaned ceiling to get to it, he grabs a roll plastic sheet from within. You watch him in awe, you'll never get used to seeing him using his powers.

Now carrying the supplies, He backflips back down. "Show off" you tease, but he's too excited to notice, he's practically vibrating with excitement. You grin at his state. You're curious as to why he's so excited, since he's pierced people before. Maybe because this is the first time he's piercing you?

Hobie lays out the plastic sheet over the dining chair and table, he opens his kit which he then lays them out on the table. He heads to the kitchen to wash his hands thoroughly. Once finished, Hobie holds his hands up with his palms facing him, like he's a surgeon preparing for his next surgery. He heads back to the table and puts on a pair of latex gloves.

"You look so punk right now" You ogle at the rare sight.

Hobie is standing next to a plastic draped chair with his hands still in that weird surgeon position, the only thing to complete his look is if he's wearing a medical mask.

"Well, piercing safely is very punk, sit down, lovey" he gestures at the chair. Hobie looks so smug, thinking he's won you over.

"I don't remember all of this plastic when you were piercing Ned" you sit down, the plastic crinkle as you settle down.

"It's Ned, he can handle it"

"So youre saying I can't handle it?"

"No, it's because you're not Ned" I love you more, and because it's you, He meant to say, you look at him lovingly which means you know exactly what he truly meant. He stares down at you full of adoration in his eyes, he grabs the side of your head to move some hair out of your face.

"Are you sure about this?" He asks tentatively. His voice is soft and without any teasing behind it.

"It's you Hobie, I Trust you" you hook your finger into his belt loop to steady the tremors of your hands. But knowing it's Hobie, eases some anxiety.

Hobie gives you one of his signature smirks. He then grabs a cotton ball dipped in alcohol to clean the area where your new piercing will go. You shiver at the cold liquid hitting your ear.

"It's just the alcohol, sweets" he reassures you.

"I know, just the anticipation is killing me" you're still holding onto his belt loop.

"Keep talking to me, it'll be over before you know it" he grabs your chin and lifts it to give you a chaste kiss on the lips. "For courage" he says with a wink.

You get distracted by the kiss and miss it when he grabs the needle from the table.

"That's it, love. Keep looking at my face" he readies the needle in its position.

"Why are you wearing jeans at home?" You ask distracting yourself from the big ass needle near your ear.

"Gotta be ready to move whenever needed, and besides I see how you look at my ass while wearing it" you see him wink in your peripheral vision. You roll your eyes at the comment, if you weren't so nervous you would've quipped back.

"Now, inhale" Hobie instructs and you follow. He pushes the needle in carefully, you grimace from the pressure. You feel him quickly put on a new stud earring to replace the needle. "Exhale" he finally says.

You let out a puff of air, you finally feel the throbbing pain from your ear. He grabs some cotton balls and cleans you up. Your eyes water from the pain. A lone tear slides down your cheeks. He crouches down to level with you.

"You did good, definitely better than Ned" he rubs your arms to comfort you. You laugh at his comment.

"Here, look" Hobie brings a hand mirror in front of you. He bites his lip in anticipation of your reaction.

You turn to the side to see it properly, you gasp at the simple red stud earring, the same shade of red as his Spider-Man suit. The gem gleaming in the late afternoon sun.

"Hobie" you say softly, heart eyes staring at him.

"Bought it at a small piercing place, while doing my patrol 'round the city. For the record I didn't steal it, I would never do that to a small business" Hobie explains. "Saw it, reminded me of you, so I got it, could only afford one though" he rambles on.

You grab his face with a little force that makes your lips crash with each other, you cringe internally, but he smiles at your eagerness.

You kiss him properly this time. Hobie holds the back of your head, carefully avoiding your newly pierced ear, the kiss full of love and affection for each other. Hobie pulls away for a second to look at your kiss-bitten lips, he gives your lips a good peck before fully pulling away.

"I love it, and I love you" You cradle his face with both hands, Hobie lays his forehead on yours, his way of saying it back, as he holds your elbows, he moves his thumb in a circular pattern against your skin.

"Still hurts like a bitch though" You sniffle from the tears of pain mixed with joy.

Hobie laughs "I'll take care of it, and you" He cradles the side of your neck and kisses you softly.

The afternoon sun mixed with the pattern on your frosted windows bathes your figures in heavenly light. You both look at each other savoring the moment.

A/n: I have no idea how to pierce ears, I'm only basing this on my own experience lol. Hope you enjoyed it! Comments, likes and reblogs are appreciated!!

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