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moonstruckme · 2 days

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Hi Mae! I've been obsessed with your writing for a while now, ur poly marauders is just perfecttt. The way you write them is just so accurate to my personal characterizations and head cannons :)

I had an idea that I thought would be cute but feel free to ignore if it doesn't inspire you ofc.

I was thinking about poly! Marauders x goth! Reader. Like reader forcing them to watch her favorite horror movies or explore abandoned places or like go to a concert or smtn

Omg and the reader dressing up to go out with them and them just dying cuz the eyeliner and fishnets and everything (who can blame them, goth girls r gorgeous 😍😍)

Thanks lovely!!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 927 words

“Is it on me?” James hears the door open, followed by Sirius’ voice, growing shriller. “Is it on me?”

“I don’t think so.” You sound one part amused and two parts exasperated. “Stay still, I can’t look while you’re moving around.”

James leaves the dishes in the sink to soak, too curious to prioritize chores. He finds you both in the entryway. Remus is observing from the couch as Sirius stands rigidly still and you pick through his hair unhurriedly. You’re both covered in dust and what looks to be cobwebs, made even more apparent on you by your dark clothing.

“I thought you were going to drop clothes off at the donation bin,” James says bemusedly.

“We did,” you reply, at the same time as Sirius says, “It was a trap!”

Remus lifts an eyebrow. James is glad he’s not the only one who seems to be missing something.

“There’s an old abandoned church not far from there,” you explain casually. “I wanted to check it out, and Sirius thought it could be fun to explore, too.”

“That was before I knew it housed the world’s largest spider population,” he argues. “Fuck, can someone get this thing off me? If I feel anything crawling I’m gonna flip shit.”

“Aren’t you already?” Remus murmurs. You grin at him, stepping back to let James take over for you.

“I assume I’m taking out the web?” James asks, picking out a piece.

You sigh. “Sirius thought he saw a spider in the car—”

“I know I did, thank you.”

“—and he’s worried it got on him. But I’ve been looking, and I haven’t seen it.”

“I’m fairly sure it would have crawled off by now, love,” Remus says, sitting up on his knees and beckoning you to the couch so he can pull the spiderwebs out of your hair, too.

“All I know is, if no one finds that thing on me, I’m going to take the world’s hottest shower to make sure it’s dead.”

“You’ll have to hurry,” Remus reminds him. “Our reservation is at eight.”

“We can be a few minutes late.”

“We cannot.”

“Fuck!” James jumps a good few feet back, hands frozen in front of him.

“What?” Sirius cries. His shoulders seize up. “What is it?”

“Shit, sorry, it’s nothing. I thought I saw something move, but it was your hair.”

“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Sirius puts his face in his hands, sounding less murderous than teary. “Remus, please.”

“I’ll take care of you next,” Remus replies, dedicatedly combing his fingers through your hair.

James mumbles an apology as he goes back to doing the same thing to Sirius. All in all, you look like you’ve actually gotten the brunt of it. You’re covered in spiderwebs, likely a result of you simply putting far less work into avoiding them than Sirius. You seem unbothered as Remus unsticks a rather large one from by your ear.

You go off to change for dinner first, because Sirius refuses to move until both James and Remus have each checked him over for spiders twice, and even then he still insists upon his shower. James can’t say he’d feel differently in his place.

He thinks he might need a cold shower himself when you come back out.

“Angel,” James breathes. It’s both an endearment and an observation. His eyes stutter their way up you, continually snagging on fishnet tights and kohl-lined eyes and the little lace ruffle lining your top. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth.

“You look lovely,” Remus says, smooth where James is not, and you grin as you lean down to kiss him on the cheek. A pink tinge rises up from beneath your boyfriend’s freckles and scars. When you lift your lips, you leave a dark imprint of lipstick behind that James has absolutely no intentions of telling him about.

“So do you,” you say, as though he’s not wearing the exact same thing he was a minute ago. (Though James is nonetheless inclined to agree. Remus always looks lovely.) Your eyes turn to James, the black liner making them look deeper and even more striking than usual.

“You do, too,” you tell him. He feels a flock of butterflies (do butterflies have flocks?) scare into flight in his stomach.

His grin feels wobbly, but certainly not for lack of enthusiasm. “Thanks,” he manages.

“So, I was talking to Sirius in the bathroom,” you say, sitting on the arm of the couch. James’ eyes follow the movement of your skirt, the way it rides up with the motion. He warms in several places. “He says that if the spider’s not on him, it has to be in the car. He won’t get in it until we’ve checked.”

Remus exhales heavily through his nose, and you nod your agreement.

“I’m not convinced he actually saw anything,” you say. “He is so paranoid.”

“Or maybe you,” James leans over to kiss your cheek, unable to restrain himself any longer as he reaches around you to squeeze the fat of your hip, “are just far too even-tempered from watching so many horror films.”

“No, he’s paranoid,” Remus agrees with you, groaning as he gets up. “I’ll check the car. If I don’t find anything, we’ll just say we caught it.”

“I’ll help.” You slip off the arm of the couch, starting after him with springy steps.

James follows, if only so he can stand behind you and keep you from flashing the next-door neighbors when you bend over to look. It’s strictly selfless.

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 6 hours

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Am I the asshole for hanging out with someone less in-person, and more online?

Here me out first please.

My buddy Austin (he/him) and I usually hang out at least every other week, if not every week. We've been doing this for the last few years after we both got more conformable doing in-person hangouts after the covid vaccines reached the general public in our country.

About a year ago, Austin was in a car accident (not a major one, don't worry) and walked away with a mild concussion (doctor's description). Ever since that car accident, Austin has been super sensitive to sound. In his words, walking across his floor in socks sounds like elephant stomping. His floor is carpet. Typing on a phone is so loud and distracting he can't hear anything else. Birds outside his house sound like they're chirping directly into his ear. He vents to me often that having a regular-volumed conversation sounds so loud it's painful to him.

When I'm over at his house, I try to be as quiet as I can. I'm careful to soft-step around the house and not take my shoes off. I try to shuffle or slide through the kitchen and other rooms that are not carpet so I make less noise. We whisper or half-whisper half-speak to each other in conversation. Movies we have subtitles on and the volume turned down to almost 0%. But Austin still looks like he's in pain by the end of a couple hour hang-out. Sometimes he'll get up and put in earplugs and then come back to continue the hangout. I feel really bad that he's putting himself through so much.

The last few months, instead of always hanging out in-person, I've been suggesting doing something virtual and letting Austin decide which he wants. I figure that if we're gaming, he can wear his earplugs or mute the game and we can use game chat or text each other to communicate. Same with watching movies, we can both adjust our volumes to our comfort levels (and leave subtitles on still. I don't mind them). Sometimes he wants to just do things online, and sometimes he insists on hanging out in-person. It's been about 60/40 online to in-person so far.

We hung out last weekend and first Austin said let's hang out in-person, but the night before we were supposed to hang out, he told me he rather hang out online this time. I was cool with it, but when I let my roommate Geoff (who is also good friends with Austin) know that actually I'd be home most of the day Saturday and answered Geoff's "why are you hanging out with Austin online again?" with "i don't know, Austin probably wants a quiet weekend instead", my roommate started accusing me of infantilizing Austin by hanging out online instead of in-person, that I'm abandoning Austin because his "auditory disablility is too inconvenient for fragile able-bodied feelings" (Geoff's words), and how since Austin hasn't explicitly said that in-person hanging out is too loud for him, then I'm being ableist by assuming things are too loud when he hasn't directly said that I am too loud. I argued that I don't think of Austin as lesser, I just don't want to cause him any unnecessary pain, and it's pretty obvious when things are too loud for him without words, because you can read the "Make it stop" / "No more" expression on his face. But Geoff doubled down really hard and told me i should be ashamed of treating Austin like he's incapable of making his own choices.

I was pissed and just walked out with my laptop. We did our movie day with me on the local library wifi instead. I don't think for a second I've taken away Austin's ability to choose, since I let Austin make the call on in-person or online!! But I'm also completely able-bodied. I haven't even experienced a temporary disability-experience like needing crutches during injury recovery or anything. Geoff has a chronic pain and fatigue disorder, so he has more experience with microaggressions than I do. So I don't know if I'm right about this being a non-issue, or if Geoff is right about me being ableist against Austin's noise sensitivities. It keeps eating at me now, and I don't want to bring this up with Austin since I already know he's really insecure about his new volume tolerance levels. Am I an asshole for doing online hangouts with Austin instead of sticking to only in-person stuff?

#aita #am i the asshole

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felis-rach · 2 days

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This world needs more bowsareach! So here's a little something I wrote for them! (It was part of a bigger fic I didn't finish, but it doesn't need context)

Mario was starting to think that all the “hero” thing made him forgot how to deal with mundane challenges.

He realized that when he saw himself using the cat-bell to climb up the wall and get a book from the top of the shelf. And when he tried to explain the claw marks to Peach, saying, “but what ELSE could I have done?” Her answer was silently pointing to a chair.

Bowser thought this was all hilarious, of course. And Mario had to remind him of who breathed fire into the oven when it wouldn’t turn on. And the reason they had to eat microwaved food for a week.

It was just a simple memory of some random day, but it made Mario feel so nostalgic. Their little home, hidden in a hill on the edge of the kingdom and accessible through a warp pipe they built, was no less than a dream come true.

After all, dating two monarchs meant that the three of them couldn’t simply rent an apartment together. Peach had to stay at her castle, and Bowser, at his, and when they eventually arranged the marriage that would unite the two kingdoms, it would be time to live together and Mario would come along.

But for now, the three of them settled in getting a little house to be the place they could run away to when Peach and Bowser got a moment of peace. It was great, especially when they managed to spend a whole weekend there.

Mario had the time of his life watching The Royals get used to the cottage. Peach, as a regent who always placed herself at the same level of her people and hated to be perceived as superior, gave her best to act naturally, so Mario tried to hide his laughter when they sat down to eat and her face just read “Oh, indeed, this table has but four chairs and doesn’t occupy the whole room.” He could see her dying inside a bit when all the plates and cups got too cramped up.

Bowser, on the other hand, being made of ego as he was, absolutely made sure he was seen as superior by his subjects (which never prevented him from being a caring ruler, going personally to a civilian’s house if they had any trouble, and screw his schedule). So he didn’t even pretend to be comfortable there. It was such an ordeal to prevent him from turning the house into a second palace. The most that Mario and Peach gave in was to make a living room big enough to fit a grand piano. Even so, he complained at every possible time about the house’s size.

“Pff. The fifty-second heir to the mighty koopa empire, living on an ant’s house like this… Of course, we left it to Mario to lead the project. He measured the house based on his own size.”

And Mario simply answered by sitting on the table in front of him. “Truly, I am so very small.” He placed Bowser’s hand on his back. “Look, I even fit on this huge and scary koopa’s hand. Oh, my stars! I sure do hope he doesn’t take advantage of all this size to grab me and kidnap me to some dark castle. Poor me!”

His voice was casually innocent, and Bowser’s face was on fire since he was still a mess whenever Mario and Peach gave him attention like that (and the two of them abused the heck out of it).

“Don’t you tempt me, plumber.” Bowser warned, holding his breath.

“Your hand is still around me.”

“…”

“Oh, no! That terrible monster is kidnapping my Mario!” Peach entered the room, and Mario fondly smiled with the “my”, dumb as their playing was. “Will I have to rescue him? But what if he kidnaps me, too?” She threw herself at Bowser with a hand dramatically at her forehead.

“STOP THAT!” Bowser jumped out of the chair, like Mario and Peach were contagious. “You two, you’re… you’re unfair, that’s what you are!”

“Weeeeeee?” They got closer, blinking innocently at the koopa, who got all the more red.

“…Dddddon’t you blame me when I actually kidnap you.” He turned to leave, visibly wanting to die in some corner and regain his dignity before he could even think about flirting back. And hit the doorframe with his shoulder. “STUPID small house! That’s YOUR fault, Mario!” They heard, as he ran to the room. And just laughed together.

“I definitely won’t mind if he goes through with this threat.” Mario smirked. “What about you, Peaches?”

“Not at all.” She agreed, before placing herself in front of her boyfriend, pinning him to the table with both arms. “Just beware, or I might take you first, sweetie.”

And she kissed his nose. Yeah, he’d definitely not mind that too.

#bowsareach #bowsario #powser #mareach #mario fanfic #super mario bros #powsario

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soapybutt17 · 1 day

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Big Soldier, Little Soldier

Summary: Everything that John has worked for to catch Makarov led to Soap in critical condition in the hospital fighting for his life and his own wife in the brink of losing her sanity after a month long kidnaping at the hands of the enemy. He failed his team but nothing hurts more than to realize that he failed his family with you as the collateral damage of it all. Character: John Price x F!Reader (Lt. Rookie) Word Count: 3,334 Chapter Warnings: Mention of torture and gore. Mention of death and decay. Allusion to sexual assault. Mention of trauma. Major Angst with slight comfort. Mention of injuries both physically and mentally. Minor Character deaths. PTSD. Trauma induce. Ideas:

"Do you want me to hold you closer?"

"Is this okay?"

"Tell me to stop and we stop. I don't care what's happening. All I care about is you."

"Will you sit with me?"

requested by @azkza "anything but i love when it's become angst😙"

Song Inspo: Abbey & I Don't Smoke

Masterlist ||Series Masterlist || 500 Followers Celebration

The damp, cold air of the room presses against your shivering skin, seeping through your clothes and chilling you to the bones. The harsh fluorescent light above flickers intermittently, casting eerie shadows across the cracked concrete walls. Your wrist burn from the coarse rope binding them to the back of the chair, each knot a reminder of your powerlessness. Every breath you take was a struggle, each inhale bringing a fresh wave of pain to your bruised ribs. You try to ignore the coppery taste of blood in your mouth, the result of Makarov’s latest session to get you to admit the truth of your team’s plan.

“Tell me, Lieutenant.” His voice was low and taunting and continued to echo your mind. “What is your husband’s plan?” The sneer in his eyes were unforgettable, each word dripped with cruel intent.

You’ve managed to resist so far, clinging to the scraps of loyalty, training, and the love instilled in you. But as the day’s drags on, your resolve begins to waver. You were uncertain how much more you can truly endure.

The door slams shut behind Makarov as he leaves you alone in the suffocating silence. The dim light buzzes above, a constant, grating noise that grates on your frayed nerves. The solitude of the room is numbing, the silence more terrifying than the threats. It gives you too much time to think, to worry.

Your eyes closed and picture their faces. Your daughter, with her bright eyes and infection laughter, always running around the house with boundless energy and question you and your husband were more than happy to answer. Your son, quieter but no less adventurous even in his infancy, with his thoughtful gaze and the way he always held your hand when he was scared. You wonder if they are safe, if they know what happened to you—if your husband had made it known. You hoped they are far away from the nightmare you are trapped in, shielded from Makarov’s reach.

A tear slips down your cheeks as you think of them, your heart aching with longing and fear. You’ve always been strong for them, the one who faced danger without flinching but with a reassuring smile that kept everyone sane and calm. But now, tied to this chair in a foreign land, you feel the edges of your strength fraying. The darkness is closing in, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold it at bay.

You wonder if your husband knows. If he was actually coming for you or if his duty refused to let him do so. The thought of him, with his determination and fierce protectiveness, gives you a hint of hope. But the hope is a double-edged sword. What if he’s walking into a trap? What if Makarov’s plan extended to him and your children?

You bite down on the inside of your cheek, the pain grounding you, pulling you back from the brink of despair. You can't afford to give in. Not yet. You have to believe that they’re safe, that they’re waiting for you. You have to believe that you’ll see them again.

“Maybe this would finally make you talk, шлюха.”

You heard the man’s voice again, and the voices of various other men that came along with him, the sound of zippers being pulled down had realized the fate was sealed and you had wished for death to come for you instead of this predicament.

A month, it took John a month to finally locate where you were being held hostage. He wasn’t even sure if you were still alive. After what had happened to Soap, he was uncertain if Makarov would even show you mercy. But he couldn’t lose hope, not when you had your children waiting back home, looking for their mother.

“John, we can do this. You don’t need to come.”

“The fuck I don’t.” John found himself barking at Laswell.

She had no right to dictate where he can and cannot go. He needed to see with his own two eyes where you were. If you were safe or if you were dead. He will not believe a word anyone says unless he would see it with his own two eyes.

“John, we’ve almost lost, MacTavish. We can’t lose you too.” Laswell repeated but it only burned his core.

It was regret, the numbing and brutally stabbing feeling of regret that it was his fault that it had come to this. Soap was fighting for his life trying to save John during the fight with Makarov. His wife, his beautiful and brave wife, was God knows where fighting to stay alive, probably enduring the brutality of the torture that only one Makarov could dish out.

It was his fault, no one else’s.

“I’ve failed Soap and I’ve failed my wife. I cannot fail my children too.” His voice that had been strong for the past few weeks now a shell of the man he once was. “I need to be there to either find her alive or take the body home with me. Either way I need to go see if the reports are true.”

There was no stopping him. Not even Ghost or Gaz could stop him as he settled himself on the helicopter that Nikolai was flying. No one could convince him in this very moment that he was more of a liability than anything else.

The hope was still lingering in his core. You were broken for everything that you possibly could have endure but he hoped you were still there fighting and keeping yourself alive for him and for everyone that was waiting for you back home.

But all the hope slowly drained as they arrived at an abandoned safe house in the heart of Russia. The scent of blood and rot was all too palpable in the area and both Gaz and Ghost had been both on high alert for possible attacks and for John’s own sanity at this point.

“Coast is clear.” Gaz spoke as he moved forward first.

John held onto his gun tighter as the abandoned safe house became more and more disheveled the deeper they walked inside.

His eyes lingered on the things scattered around, paper works, food, clothes, all were in a disarray and apparent of no sign of life for weeks. The putrid smell of blood was still nowhere to be seen in their general vicinity.

In the bleak and silent area, a lone mumble had all three men on alert. All their attention led to them finding where the source of the sound was.

“Got eyes on a door towards a basement.”

Ghost announced and without any rhyme or reason, John had walked first opening the door much to everyone’s protest. But as the creak of the door sounded, the putrid smell intensified. A vile odor of mixed excrements had overwhelmed John, it almost had him doubling over and vomiting but he proceeded further inside.

The voices of Ghost and Gaz were momentarily placed at the back of his head as the mumbling grew louder. He walked towards the bleak hallway in the basement. The fluorescent light flickering on and off as he walked closer and closer to the lone door where the sound grew louder and louder.

“Open the door.” John ordered, all the muscles in his body had stiffened. He had always anticipated this, to finally know if you were here or not, but in this moment. At this state of decay and abandonment, he feared the worse.

He feared your state, the state of his failure and the detriment that came to you and your whole being. It was because of him that you were placed in this situation and it was because of him that he almost lost Soap.

Ghost was strong enough between the three of them to finally open the door, a quick slam of his hammer towards the locks and what he saw had him visibly sobbing.

You.

Or what was left of the women he had once loved. In front of him laid a woman fighting for your life. Blood covered the floor as much as it did the walls. Various bodies of different stages of decay scattered around you. But you, you that had both your hands and legs rope tied and your mouth gagged was moving still, shaking and quietly sobbing.

“My Love.” John couldn’t take it anymore as he approached you. You were alive, but the cost was just something he could not even fathom.

With his blade, he cut both of the ties binding you and tore off the gag muffling your words. His eyes immediately inspected your body, his eyes widening at the evident tore on your pants and blood that also painted it.

“They…didn’t do anything to me, if that’s what you’re worried about.” You whispered, voice cracked and dry. Far from the melody of your voice that everyone was so used to.

“I’m worried about you and your whole being!” He finds himself snapping for having your think so lowly of him.

He pulled you towards his chest now, his eyes continued to inspect your shaking form, the various wounds that lingered your body only had bruises to go along with it.

“I fought them off,” You whispered against his chest, weaker hand holding onto his vest. “I did everything in my power or stop them.” You began to sob again and only now did John get a good sight of your face.

How blood was dried against your mouth, sporting two black eyes, and an evident broken nose.

“I failed you.” John whispered, kissing your matted hair. “I failed you and our children.”

“John…”

“I’m so sorry, My Darling.”

The rescue was a blur. One moment you were in the dark, suffocating cell filled with the men you killed, the ropes cutting into your wrists, and the next you were being carried out by the strong and protective arms, John’s voice a soothing murmur in your ear, promising you it was over. The light was blinding, the noise was overwhelming, but you clung to him, your lifeline in the chaos and you blacked out after the tears have finally escaped after weeks of captivity.

Days have passed since then. Your body was healing, but your mind was another story. You find yourself in the base’s infirmary, staring at the sterile white walls, the antiseptic smell a sharp contrast to the dank, musty scent of your cell. You constantly tell yourself you’re safe, but the shadows in your mind don’t listen.

Your husband was always nearby, his presence a constant comfort and a painful reminder. You watch him from the corner of your eye, how his brow furrowed with worry, his movements careful and deliberate. He tried to hide it, but you can see the guilt in his eyes. He thinks he failed you. You want to tell him he didn’t, but the words get stuck in your throat, replaced with the memories of Makarov’s sneer, his questions, the pain. It was your fault and you failed him—and your children.

You try to push those thoughts away, but they creep back in, insidious and relentless. Sleep is a battleground. Every time you close your eyes, you’re back in that chair, back in that cell. You wake up gasping, heart pounding, the sheets tangled around you like the ropes that bound you.

If it wasn’t your husband, it was Simon that constantly visits you, his silent presence a strange comfort to you. You were now wearing his shoes, being held captive and tortured, he knew above everyone else the pain and suffering you had endured at the hands of Makarov. You appreciated his quiet understanding, even as you can’t bring yourself to meet his gaze. You’re afraid he’ll see through the cracks, the fear you can’t shake. You were so used to giving everyone comfort and reassurance, it was so hard to be the one given it the other way around.

Then there was Kyle, who was more direct with his approach. His concern was evident in every words, every gesture. He talks to you, encourages you to open up, but you shut him out. You can’t bear the thought of reliving it, of seeing the pity in his eyes. You’re a soldier, a mother to the team, you are supposed to be strong. But you felt anything but.

John is the hardest to face. He’s always there, his eyes searching yours, looking for a sign that you’re okay. But you’re not, and you don’t know how to tell him that. The pain in his eyes cuts deeper than any wound. You want to reach out, to reassure him, but you can’t. You’re too broken.

“Tell me to stop and we stop. I don’t care what’s happening. All I care about is you.”

It was mandated by Laswell that you had to undergo psychological evaluation and therapy for the next few weeks, but it was hard. Having to deal with your own emotions while knowing you were notified that you would be unable to see your children or see Soap in the hospital until they had deemed you mentally cleared to do so.

Your husband somehow knew that it wasn’t what you needed right now. He knew you needed him but he wasn’t ready to give himself just yet. But he was hear, present in all of your appointments—his office has become the faux therapy location so he could have a close eye on you.

“Please.” You spoke, the tears forming your eyes at the fact you couldn’t see the people you truly wanted to hold the most in your state of mind.

“Go.” With a single word from your husband, the therapist assigned to your case left the office leaving you at the mercy of your husband whose eyes you still have a hard time meeting.

In the silent of the office, you took attention to the sound outside. The booming voice of Simon as he continued on with training with the new recruits. The sound of footsteps walking outside. But amongst the silence of the office the rapid beating of your heart.

“Will you sit with me?”

You finally met his eyes as he stood in front of you, pointing at the sofa that he had installed since your arrival back.

You took a moment before nodding, following him onto the leather sofa. You allowed him to sit first, the creaking sound of the leather against your shared weathered bodies as you sat so close together but the distance was all the more evident still after what had happened to you.

“My children will be coming in a few hours.” He announced finally making your turned to look at him full for the first time in what felt like days.

“Will…will they be ready to see me like this?” You wonder, even as you had healed, you still has the bruises and wounds covering your body not a sight you would ever want your children to ever see you in.

“They know that you got hurt.” He explained. “I know it was not what the doctor or anyone higher up wanted but I want to make sure what you want is being taken into consideration first.”

You nodded knowing it would also mean you would be seeing your in-laws too—the parents you have come to have since meeting your husband. You feared what they would think in your state and knowing what goes on during kidnappings especially for someone in your field.

“Nothing matters to me in this moment but you, you need to understand that. You matter to me not just as your husband but as your Captain. Do you understand?”

You nodded wiping the tears on your eyes.

“No matter what you say, I had a hand in what happened to you. If I only made sure you had Gaz with you during the mission you wouldn’t be place in such a predicament right now, My Love.”

No matter what you say and no matter what you do, it was now a curse that fell upon the both of you. The weight of both of your decisions that day that led you to be where you are right now. A shell of your former self and a husband that knew nothing but be consumed by the guilt of what had happened to you.

“But we’ll go through this together alright? Once you’ve seen the kids and healed up your wounds, we’re going through whatever doctor or therapist we can both get ourselves signed up for and we’ll move past this…together.”

You nod.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” You finally speak. “I never blamed any of you besides Makarov and the sooner I get to see his bloody body on my feet, the sooner we can all move on from this.”

In the pain of the events that caused this much trauma, nothing would give you better joy than to finally have the man either behind bars or dead. You could care less if the man died by your hands or that hands of anyone in your team, but you knew if it came, you would be at peace once and for all.

You found yourself now on the lap of your husband, his arms gently wrapped around your waist. It was the first time in days since you’ve been in his arms, the warmth and protection that only he could give you in this time of chaos in your mind.

“Is this okay?” He asked, uncertain in his action.

“Yes please.” You whispered, nuzzling your face onto the crook of his neck. You took a deep breath of his scent, your arms slowly moved up wrapping around his broad shoulders, your head now resting on his shoulders as you looked up at him.

“Do you want me to hold you closer?” He asked, the shiver in his touch on you was felt.

“I just need you in whatever shape or form you’re willing to give me, John.” You whispered pulling yourself closer to him now as you allowed yourself to finally break down and mourn all of the things you had to endure at the hands of Makarov and his men.

All the things they had said about your team, about your husband, and about your children. All the treats that had placed the fear of God into you but you had no other choice but to stay quiet still. The last of the memories of when Makarov had no other choice but to use the lowest of the low and allowed his men to have their ways with you.

You bit anything you could bite, you’ve learned so much in that sheer moment. You learns that it doesn’t take much to bite off a man’s member off and it doesn’t take much before he dies from blood loss because of it. You’ve also learned that adrenaline was a very dangerous drug to be consumed in. How it had made you strong enough to fight most of the men off, killing without second guessing anything but weak enough to allow Makarov to slam a gun to the back of your head leaving you incapacitated enough to be once again bonded on the floor with the blood on your face and every single part of your body wounded and the corpse of all you’ve killed watching you.

You sobbed in the week that you were left in nothing but the pathetic excuse of your cell. The putrid scent of decay and blood lingering and leaving you to suffer a fate worse than death.

You were broken, but it would take more than the reassurance of your husband to finally heal from everything you’ve been through.

You wanted Makarov dead. For what he placed you through and for what he had let everyone you’ve ever cared for endured because of his own plans.

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sarcasticbabywhispererjess · 2 months

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Yesterday was a particularly bad day. For no real reason. The grief waves were just hitting me. I still managed to make it to the gym somehow. But then I had mad insomnia and stomach pains. The stomach pains continued when I got up this morning. I've only had some coffee and a rice cake today (it's 2pm). I had just started to get my appetite kind of back. Guess I overdid it. Even my GI tract is grieving.

I miss my girl.

All I want to do it buy stuff to keep her memory alive for me and look at old pictures of her (Facebook is good for that since it has stuff from back before I got an iPhone).

#dog #dead dog #grief #grieving #i'm so alone now #not that it makes me want to socialize more #actually it makes me want to leave the house even less #but that's probably more the grief #she was more than just a dog to me #i miss her face #and her soft ears

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tj-crochets · 5 months

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Hey y'all! Weird question time again So I have kind of a lot of emergency/as needed medications that I have to have with me in my purse whenever I leave the house, and a few more that I have to take with meals, so if I'm going to leave the house for longer than a quick errand I need those too. The problem: I have two nieces that live nearby-ish, one of which is an absolute bundle of chaos of a toddler*, and the kidlet I babysat is going to visit next year. He's nine. If I spend time with any of those kids, how do I childproof my purse full of medications without making it difficult to access emergency medications I could need at very short notice while potentially pretty significantly impaired, like my rescue inhaler? *her parents babyproofed some doors with those latches high up on the door and she figured out how to take a broom and unlatch them

#the person behind the yarn #medical mention #medication mention #harm to children mention #not like specific actual harm it's hypothetical harm I am trying to stop from being an issue #but I know that can be a big issue for people so I tried to tag for it #but like some of the meds I am on can be REALLY BAD if overdosed even a little #one of my meds was used as the murder weapon on a tv show!#and that's the one I (a fully grown not-that-small adult) take 0.05 mg of daily #my nieces are not fully grown and even 0.05mg is probably a dangerous amount for them #but I have to have that pill with me when I leave the house because sometimes I need an extra dose #and if I need an extra dose and don't take it I can get very sick very fast #the benadryl I am less concerned about because A. it's a children's dose and B. it tastes terrible #but I reaaaaally don't want to risk making them sick but also. I HAVE to have those medications with me when I leave the house #and I HAVE to have most of them very easily accessible #because it is difficult to think or do some fine motor skills (like undoing child locks) when wheezing really badly

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truckstoptigers · 3 months

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when i was seven and our trailer burned down, i thought about leaving my father there, grabbing my brother, and getting us the hell out

i didn't. i ended up waking our father and we all ended up at the neighbors' house

but i should have

i fucking should have

because the minute he had a chance to be alone with me (after we got to my grandma's trailer) guess what he did! shortly after our fucking HOME burned down and the firefighters gave my brother and i teddy bears and wrapped blankets around us for shock!!!!!! fucking christ i hate our father more than anyone on this earth

#haha :) feeling normal abt this!#all i cared about was my brother being safe. thats all. i still remember holding his hand and walking him to the neighbours house #i couldnt see because i left my glasses in the trailer. they put on the little mermaid cartoon for us. i even remember what episode it was #but i genuinely considered leaving my father there and honestly that scares me #honestly i was afraid to wake him up bc i didnt want him to get mad at me. if he got mad at me i would always suffer for it later #milo murmurs #fun fact we lived w someone & his son and his son ended up becoming my cousin when his mom married my uncle #i am so so glad neither or them were home that night #he was so young. im several years older than him & he was so little that he doesnt even remember we lived together #csa vent #tw csa vent #csa tw #also feeling fucked up abt the fact that my father wld put his cigarettes out on me when he was pissed #sometimes i wonder if the fire started because he was smoking smth and passed out while doing it but my brother slept in his room #i feel like they wouldve been much more worse off if the fire started in their room #anyway im pretty sure that the fire was set intentionally bc he had some ties to the wrong ppl #and either they didnt know me & my brother were also there and were only going after our father or they didnt care we were there #to this day even bonfires make me nervous if i can only smell them & cant see them. i hate smelling smth burning & panicking #we live in the country now so its very common for ppl to burn leaves and wood and what have you. its still scary sometimes #i think abt this a lot actually bc any fire still makes me lowkey nervous. less so if i know where/what its coming from but still nervous

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milo-is-rambling · 1 year

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Once again thinking about having a pen pal or a person to write letters to and send physical mail like ugh I want that so bad

#there’s my pixel-ly 😫 guy I was talking about in the tags #but this post is not all demonstration that’s real I do want a pen pal so bad I want to snail mail i want to oooooo wait actually maybe I #could no that’s weird nvm ain’t no way I’m gonna do that that is embarassing!!!!!!#I was gonna say I could ask🧍🏻if he wanted to write letters and put them in each others mail boxes but he is like a legit human person with a #real person job and they are not going to like sit down and spend their time writing me (a person they can text #and we don’t even text often like we talk for two hours or less every week ) and he’s like 25/26 so they’re definitely not gonna spend the #time to write and bike or drive to my house just to put something in my mailbox and not hang out #and he’s def not gonna be buying stamps and he’s not gonna want me to be anywhere near his house when he’s not there #god that sounds so creepy why is my brain like that #my dream friend is someone in/around my town but far enough away that I can send them mail or drop stuff of at their house and like bake #them something or make them art and leave it with a letter on their doorstep like that’s the dream friendship actually #that’s all I wanttttt #I need a pen pal #I want to write letters and make cute cards and send random shit and stickers and stuff

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puppyeared · 2 years

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Man it would be so freaking cool if it turned out Caleb had some involvement with the portal door

#HEAR ME IUT HEAR ME OUT #think about it. Dana confirmed that Clawthornes specifically have a think for bird themed palismen #and flapjack is more or less confirmed to be Caleb’s palisman since belos yelled his name ANDDD the thing with the wittebros on that we #newspaper from season 2A right. so unless that was a one off the witch hunters would have had to know they had something to do with witches #since Caleb could only really make flapjack if they were in the boiling isles in ANOTHER REALM wouldn’t the witchunters only find out about #it if he came back and they saw it? and palistrom wood only exists on the isles #AND AND AND based on the nycc clip ppl pointed out that flapjack is kind of familiar with the abandoned house #cause he was pecking at the floor and shit and the other palismen were concerned. so if Caleb managed to get back to the human world maybe #he brought flapjack with him and that’s why he recognizes it #also I don’t think Philip was actually the one who built the portal door. maybe he just included it in his journal because he knew luz would #come along and find it by the time he was belos? and his portal is extremely different from the door because it’s like huge with angel wings #and shit while the door is just a normal ass door #also if you think about it the titan had a way of hiding things from him so maybe that would include the ingredients for the portal too #if he could tell belos would use it for something bad like bringing all the witch hunters to the isles to kill them #so then maybe if the titan figured Caleb was a cool guy he let him find the portal ingredients #which let him go between the realms? ALSO iirc eda found the door not too far from her house and it was half buried in dirt #my theory is maybe even though Caleb had the option of going back he wanted to stay with his wife in the isles and hid the door so Philip #wouldn’t find it or something. maybe he got tired of witch hunting like how he looked tired in the nycc clip #and he wanted to leave that behind. poor dude :o(#idk if this will make sense when the episodes come out but I really want that wittebro lore man #the owl house #toh #the owl house season 3 #toh season 3 #toh theory #yapping #the owl house theory #toh spoilers #the owl house spoilers

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supercantaloupe · 1 year

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i really despise all those "older sister" posts bc in my experience they're literally never accurate. like im sure there ARE older sisters out there whose experience is like that but MY older sister is So Very Much Not

#i wanna talk about me #i swear she completely monopolizes the attention the space the concern the decisions. for EVERYTHING #always has the tv on whatever she wants it to be. and just leaves it on when she goes somewhere else #leaves her dishes around instead of putting them away.#decides what everyone is having for dinner. herself #dominates every conversation and gets mad if i try to get a word in edgewise #i know she like. lives in colorado. and is home less than me. so like. i SHOULD be understanding and just let her have fun #but also ive been doing this our whole lives...we lived in the same house for 19 years together and it's always like this #always fucking on the retreat. always submitting and just letting her get whatever she wants. cause it's easier than the drama of arguing #and making our parents mad.#but like #man. idfk.#it would be nice to actually be able to spend an evening watching a movie on the couch with mom too #ig thats a lot to ask for tho since thats what she does every single week :/#and gd forbid i kick HER out. oh noo. never. it's MY job to be out of the way #never hers

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mocksyoucondescendingly · 2 years

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#my main friends gotta stop being people who enjoy parties and clubbing whatever #i feel like a dork who got lost and now everybody is trying to make sure im getting fucked up and laid #i dont even want this dawg . like i like the people but i dont want out of my house #and every single one of these fucks sees that as a problem #even my best friend wants me to be more... well ig actually its *less* agoraphobic.#and idk i feel like phobias are more complicated than that #but whatever. hello uncomfortable situations..#i mean. i wanna fuck bitches or whatever. but like. nerd bitches . who dont leave their houses.#whatever.#i dont want to be 20 i think i was born to be a 75 year old retired film major who who sleeps on the couch all day #and lived in a box for three years

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suguann · 3 months

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He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.”

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter.

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again.

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later.

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place.

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

Masterlist

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost imagine #simon riley fluff #cod imagine #cod x reader #cod fic #mw2 x reader #mw2 imagine #.things i write

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hearties-circus · 11 months

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Yknow I don't think I've had a magnum ice cream since the night before the punishment and having one now.. yeah I cant really blame myself this ice cream is good

#gamer txt.#sure yes i shouldnt have eaten that many they were meant for everyone #that being said being a glutton for ice cream is hardly something i deserved to be starved for #and i mean honestly id do it again magnums are good #it is weird to think that they are technically what started it i know the punishment was for me being a bit of a glutton in general right #(can you blame me the house regularly goes completely unstocked for multiple days sorry being ravenous when i actually get food)#(hell im used to substituting icing and hot chocolate for food multiple days in a row just because no one bothered to get food i could eat)#(and then my mum even took the icing sugar away from me. 1 less thing i could eat. i think the icing sugar is still kept way high up)#but the magnums are what made my mum decide to go full on [no entry to kitchen. at all. you want a drink? ask. you want food? wait.]#[you want the privacy of your own bedroom? too fucking bad. you're not allowed to leave the living room]#for 3 months. it was ice cream man..#and those rules were even worse cause i couldnt leave the living room but everyone else could #if i wanted a drink but no one was in the room with me i just had to wait usually at least an hour or so for someone to come back #i certainly wasnt trying my luck sneaking into the kitchen i was fucking petrified #and g-d if it was my step dad who was the only one with me he'd always pull the 'surely you can get a drink by yourself dont be ridiculous'#and when i never moved he'd do this dramatic sigh and take as long as possible to get me a drink make me feel like a fucking burden #he did ask my mum though cause surely i was allowed to get a drink myself right? most of the dilutant juice in the house was for me #and that fucking glare she gave me like id tried to go in the kitchen and my stepdad was asking cause he caught me #but im gonna be honest as terrified as i was when she reiterate i wasnt allowed in the kitchen at all it did feel kinda good #cause my stepdad was visibly scared too. in my head it was kinda like 'SEE SEE THAT WHAT IT FUCKING FEELS LIKE DONT YOU GET IT'#it is certainly weird though cause no ones apologised for anything. some for better reasons than others #but that first year afterwards that first anniversary my stepdad did bring me food from a local place every other day for like a month #and then last year he did a few times too #i dont think he did it this year #it was like he was apologising for his involvement #but ive never seen any acknowledgement of the punishment or the fact it was a bad thing at all from anyone #its weird cause he must know that it was fucked up why else would he apologise for it. but hes just pretending it never happened too #its put me in a weird spot. cause it all happened during lockdown yknow the only people aware of it are my family.#and theyre not going to talk about it #first time i ever lost weight. real visibly too. fucked up my appetite so bad that after it ended i lost weight again bc i just couldn't eat

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lady-ashfade · 6 months

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Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special.

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

#disney plus percy jackson #plantonic percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #platonic #yandere #grover underwood x reader #yandere annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase #grover underwood #yandere Grover underwood #yandere greek gods #yandere annabeth chase x reader #I stand peter Johnson

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thevoidstaredback · 2 months

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Okay, so, crisis averted. Both of them, really. Red Robin had not asked or attempted to get any more of Danny's drink and the World Ending Crisis was less World Ending and more World Threatening. Either way, no one is hyped up in lethal amounts of caffeine and the world is in no more pieces than it had been before.

That brings attention to a new problem, though. It's uniquely Danny's problem and Constantine and Zatanna and Deadman won't stop laughing at him. He's also pretty sure that Raven is laughing at him in the privacy of her mind, so that's making him feel worse.

The problem is that every single hero that had been at the meeting a week ago that was not a part of the JLD has been overly concerned about him.

So what if he half died when he was fourteen and therefore will never look over either fourteen or eighteen? So what if he consumes enough caffeine to kill an elephant within a few minutes? What is he gonna do, die? That's not a real threat as long as he only fights as Phantom.

Ignoring the fact that he can, in fact, get hurt to the point of near death as Phantom. It's not like anyone knows that, though! Besides, ghosts run on god rules. They can't die, only fade when forgotten. People aren't likely to forget about most ghosts, though, even if they can't remember their names.

He's not gonna share that, though. Let Batman keep his contingency that won't work because the only contingency that will work for Phantom is the one he made himself. Tried and tested! He's marked it off of his Bingo Card.

Anyway. Heros and their kids/proteges have been trying to track him down for the entire week. He can't risk even leaving the House of Mysteries because the Supers are all probably listening out for him and they can't hear him through magic. It sucks. He just wants to go get a cup of coffee as Danny. The second he leaves, though, the Supers will be on him like bloodhounds. He'd leave as Danny, but the rest of the JLD don't know what he looks like as Danny and he'd like to keep it that way, thank you very much. Being stuck as Phantom was going to start causing issues to his human half if he doesn't get to leave soon.

Should he risk it? Is coffee that won't kill him really worth risking the Supers finding out his civilian identity? Sure, they wouldn't tell anyone, but he didn't like the idea of someone being able to pick him out of a crowd when all he wanted to do was blend in. It's why he avoided Gotham and Bludhaven, actually, but that's both self explanatory and another story for another time.

"You're still here?" Zatanna sat on the couch beside him. "You're normally gone by now. You can't not be tired of us yet."

He sighed and sunk down into the couch slightly. "Believe me, I'm tired of being stuck here, but I can't leave. I can't leave as a human because you guys don't know what I look like and, no offense, but I'd like to keep it that way. I can't leave as I am now because Superman will be on my ass quicker than I can blink!" He whined this time, "I just want a cup of coffee."

"What about your special brew?" Raven asked, coming into the room.

"I want to drink coffee as a human. That stuff will kill me if I drink it as a human."

"At least you know your limits."

"That sounded like a dig at someone, Z."

"It was."

"Why don't you just go out under a protection spell?" Raven offered, "We could cast one over you and you could leave. Superman can't hear through magic, so he won't be able to tell. Neither will Superboy."

Danny thought for a second. "You're a genius, Raven! Has anyone ever told you that?"

"A few times," she blushed.

"Well, it needs to be said more!"

Zatanna laughed. "Alright, kid, let's get you outside before you drive yourself crazy."

Practically vibrating in place, Danny waited for the protection spell to settle over him. The second it did, he was out the door and wandering the streets of whatever city the House of Mysteries decided to drop him as Danny instead of Phantom.

"Who are you," was not the question or voice he wanted to hear the second he stepped into the open as himself.

"Danny," he squeaked out through his absolute panic. He didn't dare turn around.

The sound of fabric moving minutely clues him in to the second person behind him. What the hell were these two doing out? It's the middle of the day and there's no attacks going on anywhere in Gotham!

"Where did you come from?" Robin asked.

Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! This was really bad! Why did the House drop him *here* of all places? Does it *want* him to die again? It was very painful the first time, thank you very much! "Illinois?"

"Was that a question or an answer?" Why is Red Robin here now?!

"An-an answer?"

"Ah, you guys are scaring the little guy!" That was Nightwing. They're surrounding him! Why is Nightwing here? This is Gotham, not Bludhaven. "Give him some room to breathe."

They did not, in fact, give him room to breathe. Maybe coming outside was a bad idea. If he gets out of this no more dead than he already was, he was going to move to the middle of nowhere and become a hermit. Smallville is a town in the middle of nowhere, right? He'll retire as Phantom and move to Smallville until the people get suspicious and burn him as a witch-!

Maybe moving to a big city would be a better idea. Or locking himself in the basement of the House of Mysteries. Yeah, yeah that's a good idea.

"-even listening?"

Oh shit. They were still talking to him! Now is not the time to panic! "Gottagobye!" And then he was running.

Good job not panicking, Danny.

Part 1 Part 3

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wandasfavv · 3 months

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Make You Mine

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Ummm stepmom Wanda being upset with you for hosting a birthday party and not listening to her??

Idkkk this is my first time writing anything SO PLEASE just give me chance. I’m not really sure what I’m doing but like it’s something and I wrote this in one sitting. So please ignore any mistakes I made

Word count: 3.2k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x Fem!Reader, alcohol, intoxicated r, non/con, somnophilia, mommy kink, oral(r receiving), jealousy, mentions of straight relationship, just Wanda being pervy

The floor trembled under you as music played obnoxiously through the speakers. You had the house to yourself and since it was your 21st birthday, you hosted a party at your house. There was around twenty people or so that you invited, having known them from college or even before.

With the promises of causing no trouble and being good, your father decided to give you permission to celebrate with your friends. Your step mom on the other hand, not so much.

“Y/N no, I told you already I don’t want you and your friends making a mess in the house that I know you’re not going clean,” Wanda said sternly as she set the dirty dishes in the sink. It was so rare for the older woman to ever let you do anything surrounding your friends. Despite being an adult, she’s always treated you as if you were a kid who never knew how to take care of yourself, and you hated it. Here she was doing that exact thing.

“I promise I’ll clean everything, Wanda. Just let me,” you responded, helping her clean up the table from dinner just to prove a point. She sighed before looking back up and at you, her expression displaying a displeasured look. You, being persistent, kept trying. Begged even as you put on a pleading face. “Please, I’ll do check ins and make sure nothing breaks or anything.”

Wanda found herself amused at your attempt of convincing her, the use of ‘please’ being sorta cute. However, you breaking stuff or making messes weren’t her actual concerns. She just didn’t trust you with your friends.

There were so many nights where she’d catch you trying to sneak out with them, sometimes not being able to and waking up to see you in the morning covered with marks and hickies from whatever. It made her feel an itch whenever she saw you unawarely show off anything that didn’t come from her. Plus, she was always worried about your friends taking advantage over you and making you do stuff she just thought you shouldn’t be doing. And now that you’re planning on a party where’d you be unsupervised, and possibly going to be doing more of these things, she just couldn’t bear the thought.

“For the last time. No-“

“Hey come on it’s fine. Let the kid do what she wants, it’s her 21st birthday,” your father intervened, not noticing the anger and frustration on his wife’s face. He smiled at you, and went his way to Wanda through the kitchen, putting his hand on her shoulder. “Let’s just take it as a chance to go on a date or something.”

The sight of him touching her and the word ‘date’ coming out of his mouth made your stomach churn. You didn’t know why though. Sure there were moments you found Wanda attractive and pretty even, but she was like a little less than twice your age and married to your father. It’d be weird to like her in any way like that. Right…?

“Well, thanks dad. I’ll go ahead and do it then,” you replied, your voice sounding taunting to Wanda as you glared up at her.

Excusing yourself, you went to your bedroom, trying to get the picture of the two out of your head. But before leaving, you noticed how Wanda somewhat pushed him away gently.

Back to the party, there you were taking shots and drinks down your throat like you’ve had before. Since you were now legally able to drink alcohol, everyone brought some combined with any that you found in the cabinets. You knew Wanda would probably be mad at you for taking some, but at least you left her favorite wine.

After a couple hours of playing games and enjoying your time letting the drunk feeling sink in, people began to leave, saying bye as they departed and said their birthday wishes to you. It was around 1am at this point, and you knew your dad and Wanda would be back soon. Though, you could barely see anything as you walked. After taking so much of the burning liquor and not considering the consequences, you felt completely sick and out of it, obviously not remembering your promises of cleaning up. Your phone was no where to be found and you had no clue about Wanda’s concerns.

Your last couple of friends helped you with a little bit of trash, picking up only after themselves however, and leaving most of it to you. Feeling lightheaded, you found your way to your room as you held onto the walls, plopping down on the bed once you were in as if you weren’t on the verge of throwing up. As you laid down comfortably, your eyes became heavy, leading you into a deep sleep in which you didn’t hear the car driving and parking onto the driveway.

Wanda came into the house, already prepared to yell at you after you didn’t answer her calls from earlier. She walked over the cups and napkins left on the floor toward your room, expecting you to be up and just ‘busy’ doing anything but cleaning like you said. But instead, she walked into you passed out on your bed, still in your uncomfortable clothing as you reeked of alcohol. She once again sighed out in irritation, not sure if she should be shouting at you or your father for letting you host a stupid a party.

She takes a few steps towards you, reaching her hand out to gently push the loose strand of hair from your face as you slept at the edge. Wanda couldn’t help but smile at your cute sleeping antics though, noticing your eyebrows create an indent in between and your nose twitch. Picking you up with her unusual strength, she put you into bed correctly, placing your head onto the soft pillow lightly. She paused for a moment thinking about her next move as she realized again the clothes you were wearing. They were revealing and provocative, something you’d never proudly wear in front of her or your father. Wanda bit her bottom lip, not knowing whether she should do what she’s thinking, but she did it anyway.

Slowly, she put her hands at the hem of your short top, trying her best to take it off you without you waking. She just didn’t want you to sleep in uncomfortable clothing, that’s all… Successfully pulling it off, she threw it down on the floor. Her eyes trailed down to your chest, which was still covered with your bra. She blushed a bit, finding your body beautiful yet so tempting her eyes then made their way to your bottom half, contemplating if it was a good idea to take your pants off too.

The sound of your father’s voice shook the thought out of her head. He called her name, wondering if everything was okay as the house was quiet, which wasn’t usual if it was Wanda yelling at you. She quickly got out of your room, hoping she wouldn’t be caught doing anything inappropriate with her husband’s daughter and went to her own bedroom, now ignoring the mess that surrounded her through the halls.

After about an hour, Wanda came back into your room. Just to check on you, maybe. She cleaned herself up, taking off any of the makeup she put on for the date she was just on, which was really just her having to suffer through pretending to enjoy whatever it was that they did. She was dressed in simple pajamas, just a shirt and shorts, and even then she looked perfect. Her oblivious husband was asleep now as well, and she took it as her chance to go back to your unconscious state. Walking gingerly to the side of the bed that you were on, she turned on the light on your nightstand and stared at your body again, thinking about taking off your pants like earlier. This time she did do it. Her hands went to the top of them, tugging them down with barely any force. Now leaving with you in only your undergarments, she found herself immersed in your entire being, her hand trailing down your body.

“Fuck, what am I doing…” Wanda whispered to herself as she bit the inside of her cheek in nervousness. You shifted in response to her touch, still in deep sleep as you unknowingly made her lose her composure. A soft groan left her mouth as you turned onto your side and had your back face her, exposing your ass. Looking back at the door and you, Wanda came to the conclusion that neither you or your father would be waking up anytime soon, so she crawled into bed with you on the other side, going under the cold sheets.

She’s never interacted with you with touch before, maybe just a couple hugs and light touches to your lower back, but never more as she didn’t really want to risk and indulge in anything. But seeing you now, your unconscious body, which wouldn’t know what’s about to happen, made her yearn for more.

Her hand made its way back to your face, cupping your cheek that’s faced up unlike the other which was adorably squished against the pillow. She leaned down placing a feather light kiss to your forehead to test you and to see if you really were heavily asleep. And you were. Receiving the green light to go further, her lips went father down to your nose, then to your mouth. Not caring if you were unconscious and intoxicated, she gently pushed her lips against yours, letting out a soft moan as she finally got to kiss you like she’s dreamt of from so many nights where she’d wake up with a mess in between her legs. Her hand went down to your waist, and squeezed it just a bit, but the action made you squirm and part from the kiss, once again turning and facing your back to Wanda.

Disappointed to not see your face, she breathed out. She still kept her hands on you though, wrapping an arm around your midsection and pulling you toward her body. She put her face into your neck, taking in your scent that remained besides the alcohol. “God, I need you so bad baby,” Wanda mumbled behind your ear. Her fingers from her other hand came up to unclip your bra, freeing your chest and allowing her to grope your breasts, still lightly as she wanted you to stay asleep. Her perverted actions were so different compared to how she’d usually behave around you.

Your body responded to her many ways as she touched you. You pushed your ass against her front, your panties being the only thing separating her from touching your father down. She groaned again at this, as if your body subconsciously wanted her to fuck you. And once a small and barely audible whimper escaped from your lips, she lost it. Her head spun from the way you acted, forcing her to find ways to control herself from just pinning you down and having her way with you. She bit down on your lower neck, making you once again let out another noise of disturbance.

“So needy even when you’re sleeping… fuck, I can’t stand you,” she said quietly against your skin, biting her lip and moving her hand down your tummy and further to your center. Her fingers reached the band of your underwear, causing her to huff out in annoyance of it being there still. Being a little less gentle, she tugged it down and immediately cupped your cunt. It was kinda rough as she desperately wanted to feel you. Her fingers went through your folds, collecting your wetness. Then, she reached up to her lips to taste you as she put them in her mouth, sucking your arousal off. She moaned, and already in love with how you tasted she wanted more of it.

Her body moved down, removing the sheets off of you and her. The soft yellow glow from the light on your body mesmerized her as she positioned herself between your legs. Parting them, she bent down and put her arm underneath your thighs before having them in a tight hold with her hands gripping the smooth flesh there. Wanda looked up at your sleeping self, admiring your beauty as her lip quivered from need with your pussy just centimeters away from her mouth. She stuck her tongue out, gently licking up and between your folds, up your clit. Your body quickly began to stir, and your eyes were forced shut as you turned your head. Wanda stopped momentarily, waiting for you to settle.

Once you stopped moving, she started to move her tongue against you again. Switching between licking around your sensitive nub and entering your cunt with her tongue, she moaned at how sweet you were, making her hold on you tighter to the point where light bruises were to form. Another small whimper mixed with a moan left your mouth as Wanda hit a particular spot within you. Your hips jerked up, and this only caused her to move roughly against and in your pussy. “Mm, waited so long to make you mine…”

Now that she was lost in pleasuring you and herself, you began to wake up from the slight aggressive movements. Your eyes opened, squinting from the bright light beaming beside your face. Confused, you closed your eyes again before recognizing a feeling between your thighs. Wanda noticed you waking up, no longer caring and actually glad you were. As you looked down you saw her face covered in your wetness mixed with her own saliva. Your jaw dropped from both shock and pleasure as she continued moving her tongue in and out of your increasingly soaked center. “W-Wanda..?” You shakily spoke, reaching down to her head, only to be stopped as her hands took yours and pinned them down beside your thighs.

“Shh… just let mommy take you, okay?” She said, noticing the way your hips bucked up against her face from the name she used for herself. “You’ve been so bad, you know that? You know how upset you made me, leaving a mess outside… and hanging out with all your dumb little friends…” she said lowly against your pussy, the vibrations of her voice making you moan and tilt your head back. Her mind shifted back to previous days at the mention of your friends. “So fucking annoying, coming home with all those marks on you and from who huh? Do they fuck you better than me baby?”

The constant questions and use of cuss words turned you on further as you never had nor expected Wanda to talk to you like this. Your mind was still hazy too, from just waking up and the after effects of drinking too much. “No… no m-mommy no,” you gasped, dumbly shaking your head. Wanda moaned, hearing you say her preferred term and getting drunk off your sounds. Her grip on your hands were now even tighter matching yours as you got closer to your orgasm.

Your moaning got louder as well, somewhat worrying Wanda as she didn’t want this time with you ruined by your dad waking up. So letting go of one of your hands, she reached up and covered your mouth, the pressure being harsh. Your noises were only muffled sounds of pleasure, still arousing to hear to Wanda. “Shut up sweetie, you don’t want your father to hear you, do you?” She questions, smirking slightly as you shook your head no. She loved the way you looked down at her, your eyebrows furrowed with a look of desperation and slight fear for bringing up that fact that he was in the other room down the hall.

As you were on the edge of cumming, your free hand went down to Wanda’s hair, grasping the soft locks of brown hair like you’ve always wanted. Her tongue kept going and swirled around the clit once again, really pushing you towards releasing all over her face and specifically in her mouth. You whined against her palm, signaling to her that you needed to let go. “You gonna cum, princess? Cum all over mommy’s tongue?” She asks in a condescending tone, smiling to herself as you tried to respond under her hand. She let her hand fall for you to speak and beg her for permission.

“P-Please mommy, please I wanna cum,” you begged, whimpering as you tried to hold back before she said yes. The hold on her hair got tighter, causing her groan again. Tears grew at the corners of your eyes and Wanda couldn’t help but get more aroused at the sight.

“Mhm, go ahead baby…” Wanda replied, going at a faster and rougher pace, battling against the tiring and numb feeling in her muscle. You let go the second you hear her, moving and grinding your cunt against her to ride out the orgasm that’s making your entire body tremble. Louder and higher pitched sounds from your mouth escaped, causing Wanda to instead move back up your body and shut you up by kissing you, shoving her tongue in your mouth and making you taste your own arousal.

“Uh-huh, good girl… so good for me,” she whispered, parting form the kiss and settling beside you in the bed, pulling you in her arms in a tight comforting hold laying down. The praise made you weaker, and with her pampering you by wiping your tears away while gently petting your head, it made you lost in your mind. You panted against her chest and held onto her hand still securely. She waited for you to calm down a bit before speaking again.

“Shhhh… it’s ok, just go back to sleep dear,” Wanda said softly and moving her arms to wrap around you. She figured you were still tired, from both the orgasm and the alcohol. She right of course, and you found yourself becoming drowsy in her arms.

“Wanda…” you suddenly said sleepily, catching her attention with your stable voice. She looked down at you, still comfortingly rubbing your side. The tired look on your face showing absolutely no signs of a single thought in your head was adorable to her and she smiled while responding to you with a small “hm?”

“I’m sorry for being bad,” you mumbled timidly, looking away for a moment as there was a permanent blush. Wanda laughed softly at you, her hands now to your cheek to make you look at her.

“You’re so cute… just make it up to me tomorrow okay, and then maybe we can do something like this again,” She responded, a loving grin on her face with a light pink tint on her cheeks. You nodded slowly and smiled at her. Wanda then kissed your head, shushing you to sleep. And you listened, saying a small goodnight before quickly beginning to snore softly into her neck once you shut your heavy eyelids just for a couple seconds in her warm embrace.

Part 2(Getting Closer)

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #top!wanda #mommy!wanda #lesbian #fem!reader #scarlet witch #i need her #elizabeth olsen

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