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beansprean · 2 months

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One day in January I thought, "wouldn't it be hilarious if there was an episode where the camera crew changes places with a crew filming a documentary on werewolves in california. and everyone is playing a werewolf counterpart version of their character?" And it all devolved from there. Ty to @vampireshmampire and @memosminifridge for riffing with me and coming up with hilarious ideas <3

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Title card, close up on a full moon glowing blue, surrounded by swirls of fog and bands of purple, blue, and green light. Overlaid is tht title "What We Do Under The Moon" in the What We Do In The Shadows font, letters dark blue with a brighter blue to purple gradient at the bottom, backlit in white.

2. Wide shot of the werewolf character played by Kayvan Novak doing a talking head. He is wearing medium wash jeans, a grey tee shirt over a millennial pink vest, a small gold medallion around his neck with a matching crescent moon earring, and has his long wavy hair half up in a messy bun. He is sitting on a light cream L-shaped couch adjacent to a glass patio door letting in the sunlight and below a wall hanging that says 'live, laugh, lick'. The lower third identifies him as "Navid - beta werewolf". Navid leans back casually against the cushions and props one elbow up on the back of the couch, leaning his head into that hand, and says, "If I am to establish myself as the Alpha of the pack over Lionel and Niki, I must find a mate. Someone strong, powerful, and...nearby. In the same house even, if possible." As he speaks, he glances meaningfully to his left, where the character played by Harvey Guillen is standing behind the couch, his back to Navid as he fusses with a vacuum. He is wearing square retro glasses, airpods in both ears, brown chinos, and a short sleeved green button up unbuttoned to the sternum with a dog silhouette pattern and sleeves rolled up his biceps. His beard is well-kept stubble and hair is buzzed short on the sides, curls pushed to the side in artful disarray and sun-bleached a lighter brown.

3a. Close up on Harvey's character as he walks down the hall away from Navid's talking head. In the background, Navid whips around to lean over the back of the couch with an expectant grin, howling, "Gerardo!! Eavesdropping again? Do you have anything to add to this topic?" Gerardo barely pays him mind, tossing his reply over his shoulder: "No, sir. Seems like a werewolf-only interview. I'm going to go vacuum the alpha den, they've been shedding." 3b. Waist-up of Gerardo standing with his arms crossed, doing a talking head. The lower third reads "Gerardo Cordero de Luna, werewolf familiar (familiar is crossed out) apprentice." Gerardo says haughtily, "I am not a familiar! Only witches and vampires pull that nonsense. I'm an apprentice, and I'm part of the pack." 3c. Repeat. Offscreen, one of the crew asks, "And what does a werewolf apprentice do?" Gerardo goes a bit red, embarrassed, and glares off to the side, hesitating to answer.

The following are all cropped close ups on a mottled orange and yellow background from a colored doodle dump. 4. Waist up of Gerardo and Navid as Navid begs, hands laced together, "Gerardo, won't you let me bite you?" Gerardo avoids his gaze with a nervous grin, flapping his hand dismissively, and replies, "Ehh...not yet! There's still plenty for me to learn about being a werewolf! I've only been apprenticed what, 3 years?" "Almost 15!" Navid shoots back.

5a. Knees up of Navid and Natasia Demetriou's werewolf character, Niki. She is wearing dark red gradient high waisted leggings, a dark red low cut bralette with crossed straps in front, a fluffy cropped brown fur coat, a gold medallion matching Navid's, and multiple golden piercings in her ears with two large oval discs dangling from the lobes. Her lipstick and square cut nails are dark red, and her long hair is permed in tight fluffy curls half up in twin buns. Navid grabs his left wrist with his right hand and thrusts it at Niki's face with an anxious expression, asking, "I smell like I love him, right??" Niki curls her lip and cringes away from him, hands up to swat his arm away as she spits back, "Ugh, yes!! You stink up the whole house with your pining! There's no way he can't smell it." 5b. Knees up of Gerardo sitting on a light cream couch, reading from a book titled "Care for the Lonely Werewolf" help up in his right hand. Navid is laying across the couch, sans vest and hair loose, with his head resting on Gerardo's left thigh. His right hand is trapped beneath him, fingers hooked at the back of Gerardo's knee, and his left rests on top beneath his cheek. Gerardo's left hand his idly petting his hair. Navid stares intently into the middle distance, thinking, 'Perhaps I should be less aloof with him...'

6a. Bust of Gerardo, who is holding up an iPad in his left hand with a drawing stylus poised in his right. Navid, large and hairy in werewolf form but still sporting his dangly earring and little hair bun, is hugging him from behind, clawed hands on his shoulders and wet nose nuzzling into the side of his face. Navid's eyes are closed and his mouth is hanging open, tongue lolling out happily. Gerardo looks up at him with a fond, if confused, smile. 6b. Knees up of Navid raising a triumphant fist with a grin and confidently declaring, "He is playing hard to get, but he underestimates how hard I am to get rid of!"

7a. Waist up of Matt Berry's werewolf character, Lionel, who looks much the same but is casual in a light cream linen shirt unbuttoned well below his sternum tucked into matching linen pants, his only accessory the gold medallion matching the others'. He is standing in front of a countertop hosting a box of Thin Mints and cringes away with a drawn-out whine as Gerardo pops into frame to spray him with water, scolding, "No, bad Lionel!" 7b. Waist up of Mark Proksch's character, who appears to just be Colin Robinson dressed like Indiana Jones, as he walks into frame with a rolling suitcase. He smiles and waves, shouting, "Howdy, guys!!" Lionel stands in the background, hands on hips with an easy smile, and says. "Oh, look, it's our landlord Arthur Simon Santiago who lives such an interesting life in New York City and uses this condo as a vacation home!"

8. Group shot, knees up, of Lionel, Niki, Gerardo, and Navid smiling for the camera. Lionel has one hand on his hip and the other around his wife's waist, leaning into her. Niki has one arm thrown around Lionel's shoulders, flashing a peace sign, and the other held up behind Navid's head to give him bunny ears. Gerardo is standing slightly in front of her, one hand clutching a pamphlet for Tisch School of the Arts and looking a bit uncomfortable as if he had been dragged into the photo last minute. Still, he offers the camera a hesitant smile and allows his left arm to be crushed to Navid's chest as the werewolf pulls him close with an arm around his shoulders. Navid leans his entire body into Gerardo with a huge grin, flashing a peace sign with his free hand.

9. Uncropped version of the entire doodle dump, repeating images 4 through 8. /end ID

#wwdits #wwdutm #werewolf au #nandermo #navardo #mlm #what we do under the moon #what we do in the shadows #what we do in the shadows fx #my art #fanart #image described

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dazai-ritualist · 2 months

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‘Can I ask you to do something about Alastor×reader? About y/n being a modern girl (2023-2024), and she often has strange gestures or words towards Alastor. One time she talked to him in modern language, making him confused and very curious. (You can expand the situation as you like, sorry my English is not very good)’

NEW IS ALWAYS BETTER!

— alastor x modern!reader (platonic or romantic!)

— alastor calls reader “good girl” so mostly fem!coded

— I WROTE THIS AND THEN IT GOT DELETED I MIGHT KMS.

alastor gets slangs that are common such as LOL, WTF, IDK but doesn’t get some that aren’t as common like LMFAO, IDRC, or WTAF since they’re just making them longer, so it’s quite useless…

he also doesn’t quite get shortcuts for words. one time you left him a note “lol brb rq imma b back in like 20 min. j gon pick smt up” most of it was honestly gibberish to him, but at the very least, he understood you’ll be back in 20 minutes.

gets really angry when you say things like “stop reaching, gooner. you’re just pissed that you’re a beta.” because; one, you’re blatantly disrespecting the radio demon and telling him to shut up. and two, he doesn’t get what any of that meant. what’s a gooner?

also gets annoyed often when you start singing songs like “i’m the alpha, i’m the leader” or “sticking out your gyatt for the rizzler” because, it’s a reflection on modern society and how music quality in modern times have plummeted significantly.

what happened to those beautiful songs such as “the man i love”? has it been replaced by this rizzler nonsense??? honestly, you’re giving alastor more and more reasons to dislike modernity… you’re lucky he finds your company enjoyable

in a desperate attempt to connect with you, he asked angel about your humor, hoping he’d understand. alastor knows that if anything, velvette would know. but, he’d rather get beaten by lucifer than ask the vees for help…

sadly for him, angel is just as confused. although, he at least knew what this alpha bullshit was, vaguely explaining furries and the alpha-beta-omegaverse to him…

you were in the hotel den, scrolling on social media as alastor walked in. “s/o, be a dear and fetch me some chicken breasts from the butcher, would you? i’d like to prepare something for tonight’s dinner.” alastor smiled

“hmm… nah. go do it yourself, furry” you giggled brattishly. “hahah… what did you call me?” alastor asked sternly, his face now close with yours, antlers increasing only slightly in size. “ah…” you stuttered.

alastor was never this mad when you said stuff like that, what was so different today? maybe he was in a bad mood? “ah… ill get it…” you conceded, using your hands to lightly push alastor away, lest he decides you’ll be for dinner…………

alastor snickered before patting you on the head. “good girl. don’t call me that again, this old dog can still learn new tricks, y’know?” he teasingly sang out. “huh?” you asked. “did you learn what a furry is?” you bit your lip, holding back your laughter.

“indeed, i did. horrifying that you’d think i would indulge in such hobbies…” he sighed, looking a little uncomfortable through his stressed smile. “what..? i don’t think you’re a furry, alastor. it’s not that deep. furry is just something that i used to laugh about with my friends back on earth.” you shallowly laughed, copying his actions by rubbing his hair.

he has to admit, that little mistranslation was a little funny looking back on it. but, he is a little disheartened that he got you scared over nothing. you were just having your fun and he got all pissed off. he’d definitely try to instead ask you about your slang as to prevent such a thing again…

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #hasbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #hasbin hotel

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peachesofteal · 7 months

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Peachy I am so in love with the dead disco Omegaverse AU! It absolutely plays on my heartstrings!

Can we have a continuation of the story so far? What happens when Darling finally comes off of her heat—I’m ready for the tough conversation!!!

-💀👻

18+ MDNI / dead disco omegaverse au / mature themes

takes place after this

Your head is stuffed with cotton. It’s full of nonsense, heavy and confused, like you’re drifting between a dream and reality, only one thing painfully clear.

Your heat is fading away, you’re nestled between two very warm bodies. It’s a hazy kind of warmth, the type that hangs heavy in the air, and your face presses further into the searing temperature of skin, seeking, smelling. You’re drinking in the scent of your alphas, blinking to try to clear your eyesight in the dark. The smell of them, woodsmoke and balsam, sinks through your consciousness until you’re shifting restlessly, detangling your limbs from the web of bodies, pushing and pulling against their grip.

You come to reality very quickly, and fear floods your nervous system.

No. No, no, no- you… you didn’t, they… they can’t have been here. They shouldn’t have been here-

“Omega.” Johnny murmurs against the back of your head, hand holding your hip steady, stroking circles into your skin to soothe you, keeping you in place. “Ye with us?”

You whimper. You can’t help it. It comes second nature, slipping out before you can stop it. Your muscles seize, like they’re preparing to spur you into action, and the room spins.

“No.” Simon murmurs. “Settle, darling.” He starts up a deep hum from his chest, harmonics vibrating through his bones to yours, genetics and hormones reacting to the pull of his designation, your body going boneless between them. “That’s it, good girl.”

Something is wrong. Beneath their efforts at producing a calming, soothing scent and atmosphere, there’s a tinge of anxiety. Of worry. Of distress.

You swallow.

“What’s going on?” You whisper, clenching your eyes shut.

You don’t want to face this. You don’t want to hear it… the truth. What they’ll say to you. About you.

Whispers of your past shudder across your mind, memories that you’ve worked so hard to keep away, locked up in a little box somewhere in the back of your consciousness.

You’re dirty. Your heats are dirty. You’re disgusting, like all omegas. Useless. Nothing. Just a thing to be bred, to be used. You have no value.

“I need ye to take a deep breath for me.” Johnny coaches, hand nestling against your breastbone from behind. When you do, it’s a struggle, jagged and rough. His lips find the shell of your ear, breathe fanning over your cheek. “Another one, darling. Try again-“ your ribs expand, and he kisses you sweetly. “Good. That’s it, just like that.”

“Are you hungry?” Simon asks, and you nod automatically. You’re starving, and they’ve most likely been listening to your stomach rumble for hours. He gives you a gentle smile. “I’m going to start some breakfast, and Johnny’ll get you in a shower in a minute.” You nod again. You feel like jelly, sore all over, and you imagine you probably haven’t been out of this bed in days.

The door opens, orange dusk filtering in from the living room as Johnny gives you another kiss along your jaw and sits up, pulling you close.

“Alright darling. Let’s get in the shower.”

Simon made way too much breakfast.

All your favorites, which is a good sign, you guess. And Johnny is glued to you, holding you in his lap on the couch while you eat, moving your plate and your coffee cup to and from the table to your hands.

Maybe this means they won’t throw you out.

“So.” You try to smile but it feels forced and wrong. “Am I in trouble?”

“No.” Johnny vows.

“No, of course not.” Simon agrees, pulling the plate from your fingers with a gentle tug. “But there’s a lot we need to talk about.” Your nose tingles with the threat of tears, and you fist your fingers together.

The silence is loud for a long moment. Uncomfortable, until Simon breaks it.

“I’m not going to ask why you didn’t tell us, because we know.”

The tears start immediately. You’re breaking under the weight of your shame, your fear, your past. It’s too heavy, and it hurts, ice in your chest like you’re dying.

“You know?”

“I called your doctor.” What? He what? Anger, and panic wells up in the back of your throat.

“You had no right-“

“You left the flat in the middle of your heat, in a near feral state. We found you on the street with another Alpha trying to lay a claim to you. I’m sorry for invading your privacy, but I’m not sorry for protecting you. We needed to know what was going on.” You tamp down the urge to jump to your feet and run out the front door. Johnny keeps his arms firm around your body, and you press against him anxiously.

You can’t do this. They’ll want to talk about it. They’ll want to know everything. They’ll know you’re dirty.

“Darling, hey. Look at me.” It’s Simon again, trying to catch your eye. “Everything is alright. There is nothing, nothing that you could ever do, or ever tell us, that would make us love you any less.” He’s so soft with his words, trying to coax you, but your head swings back and forth in denial.

“That’s not true.” You have to get out of here. Something is banging at the brink of your mind… something wild and raw, something trying to claw its way in. It’s violent… and feral. “I have to go.”

“What?” Johnny tugs you in tighter, but you thrash against the feeling, hysteria bubbling up in your stomach.

“Easy.” Simon wraps a hand around the back of your neck, squeezing just a bit. “Why is that not true?” When you don’t answer, he sighs. “Omega.” It’s a pull, the command of an Alpha, and you grit your teeth.

“I… I was always taught that heats are wrong, that Omegas are useless. That I’m-“

“No.” Johnny stops you. “There’s nothing wrong with ye.”

“You don’t understand.” You protest, and they both watch you mournfully.

Johnny presses his lips to your hair, and Simon pulls your hand into his.

“So tell us.”

#💀 👻 anon #peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco omegaverse au #ghost x soap x reader

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danieldrivesfast · 1 month

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I'm sincerely worried for the future considering how media literacy and the concept of source verification is absolutely dead with a loud percentage of Gen Z/Gen Alpha kids. There's also absolutely zero critical thinking or willingness to understand the context of anything, which is doubly worrying. I hope it's just a vocal minority and not a trend across most.

It's unserious when it's about racecar things, but unfortunately I keep seeing it with serious topics, so when I come across it more and more with the unserious stuff I use to escape the serious topics... it stops feeling unserious and becomes really concerning. Super duper not fun, too.

A bit of today's nonsense? Once again preferring to listen to a "source" with zero credibility over literally everyone who is an authority and has a say in everything. Not only that, but to believe the "source" over the well-understood fact that the team's sponsors came on because of who was in the car more than to sponsor the team itself. Etc, etc, etc. Of course I'm talking about girlypops who get their giggles clinging to any "proof" that DR is getting fired.

The absolute unwillingness to see through their biases to at least form sensible or factual backups for their hate of things (not just DR) is embarrassing, frankly. There are so many uneducated fans who use wrong/not credible/misconstrued information to prop up their "arguments," and even when it's an argument I or someone agrees with, they cling to being wrong and attack the people who showed them facts instead of stepping back and reevaluating. They openly refuse to understand how things work, they'd rather spew hate at others (like Alex Albon, for example) than take a breather, learn, and be upset but still remain decent people. They claim to have the highest morals and use that to eviscerate people, but in the same week will unflinchingly prop up someone who is less than a degree separated from a literal fascist because he's a cutie pie.

A few months ago I saw someone say that Gen Z/Gen Alpha are just young Boomers with how they approach media literacy, critical thinking, confirmation bias, and their own hypocrisy and the way they have no regard for the cruelty they show others. I thought it was a horrible thing to say - until I started to realize they might be right. Existing in fandom space has rapidly been supporting that theory.

I'm going to Austin this year. Friendship bracelets are already being made. I can't wait to meet so many people and trade and share stories and experience an incredible sporting event with thousands of fans and a blossoming young, not-cishet-male demographic. And sometimes I think about the fact I'll likely be trading bracelets with people who've wished drivers dead/injured, spread horrible lies about them or their loved ones, actively contributed to ripping down drivers' mental health, and countless other awful things and think it's perfectly okay because it in no way affected them personally.

Anyway.

#formula 1 #daniel ricciardo #alex albon #lando norris #yuki tsunoda #charles leclerc #carlos sainz #george russell #logan sargeant #lewis hamilton #oscar piastri #f1 #toxic fandom #old lady rant #I'm yelling into the void #off my chest

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holylulusworld · 5 months

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Big grumpy bear (FIN)

Summary: He’s grumpy. You are sweet. A match made in heaven.

Pairing: Alpha!Walter Marshall x OmegaReader

Warnings: a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, grumpy alpha, scenting, mating, implied claiming, light smut (unprotected), needy/demanding reader, fluff,

Catch up here: Big grumpy bear (5)

Big grumpy bear masterlist

Now, …

‘Distance makes the heart grow fonder.’ That’s what people say. But in your case, it’s the opposite. You want to be closer to Walter.

If you had the chance to wrap yourself around the alpha like a Koala, you’d do it all day long.

Walter barely gets the chance to leave the bed without you making a scene. Your post-heat haze is still lingering in the back of your mind, and all you want is to stay close to your…alpha.

One week earlier, …

You crawl under the blanket, smirking as Walter is still asleep. Today you’ll get what you want. This time you won’t let him out of your clutches. He won’t resist you, not if you put your hands on him first.

“Omega, what are you doing,” Walter fights your hands. After he nursed you back to life, you became more confident around him. Now you are tugging at his boxers to get him bare. “Y/N…what?”

“I want my alpha,” you purr under the blanket. “you’ve got a nice cock, alpha.” You hum in appreciation. “I want it.”

“What?” He laughs as you crawl on top of him and poke your head out from under the blanket. “Y/N, we will take our time.”

“No, I want it now,” you wiggle on top of Walter. “I want your knot, and I want it…no, I demand your knot.” You purse your lips.

“You want it?” He cups your cheek. “How about you get it then, hmm…? Take it, omega. Sit on top of your alpha and ride him. Make yourself cum.”

“No…I…” you wrinkle your nose. “I want you on top of me, and for you to scent me. Maybe you can nip at my neck or bite it. Hmm…can we do it without protection? Are you clean? I’m on birth control…”

“Fuck it!”

You squeak as Walter suddenly rolls you over. He crushes his lips against yours, roughly claiming your mouth. “Walter,” you breathe against his lips. “Alpha.”

He settles between your legs to rub his aching cock against you. “Do you want me?” He groans when you move your hand between your bodies to stroke his cock. “Angel, don’t do this to me.” His voice sounds strained. “Please.”

“I want you,” you purr lowly. Heat pools in your belly feeling the alpha so close, and his arousal. “Please, big bear. Make me yours.”

He cups your face and kisses you again. You don’t know if you are dreaming or not. It feels like you’re floating when Walter cups the back of your head and looks you in the eyes while teasing your entrance with his weeping cock. “I want you too.”

Your heart flutters. Not only at his admission but the feeling of his massive cock slowly inching its way inside of your body. “Yes!”

“You’re mine,” he slams one fist into the pillow. “Only mine! No one can have you.”

“Oh fuck!” Your hands shoot to his head to bring Walter down for another kiss. He moans against you. “You’re so tight for me.”

“You’re…huge…and throbbing and I…” You whimper. “You ruined my poor pumpum! This means you must claim me.”

“Your pumpum?” Walter hides his face in your neck, laughing loudly. “God, I love you, angel. You’re so cute and even with my cock inside of you, you’re babbling cute nonsense.”

“I wanna be yours. Please.”

“You’re already mine.” He throbs inside of you, reading to ruin you even more. “I will split this cunt open some more with my swelling knot. After, you are going to be full of my seed. I’m going to breed you every night and make you round. Everyone will know you’ve got claimed.”

You wrap your legs and arms around Walter’s body. He’s much bigger than you, but you are stronger than you look. Holding tight onto him like a Koala you look him straight in the eyes. “I bet we can ruin your bed.”

“Oh, sweet angel. I’m going to break the fucking bed with you,” he growls and grabs the headboard with one hand. Walter digs his knees into the mattress and smirks down at you. “Hold tight, this is going to be a wild ride.”

You giggle and hold even tighter onto Walter as he starts moving his hips. He laughs when you make squeaking noises with every deep thrust. The alpha keeps his promise. He uses all of his strength to fuck you straight into the mattress.

“My grumpy bear,” you scream and moan all the while rocking your hips. “Yes…fuck…oh…you are going to break my coochie.”

“Did I break you or your poor coochie,” Walter looks up from between your legs. He insisted on kissing your sore pussy better. “Aw, she looks sweet and perfect.”

Walter places a searing kiss on your pussy lips. “Walter…no…you are going to break her for real!” You try to push him off your cunt with your foot. “Please.”

“Hmmm…she’s all mine. But you are right,” he purrs and crawls back on top of you. “I should give her a break. One week of non-stop fucking is too much for my poor omega.”

You smile dopily when he pecks your temple. “I wanna rest now. I’m so tired.”

“Come here, angel,” he rolls onto his back, taking you with him. “Snuggle into your grumpy bear’s chest…”

Now, ...

“Y/N, we got to go back to work,” Walter sighs as you cling to him. “Together.” He adds. “I talked them into giving me an office closer to yours. You can visit me during lunch break, or I’ll visit my omega.”

He drops his eyes to your neck to admire the mark he left.

“It’s a perfect mark, alpha,” you coo, and pat his cheek. “Everyone will know we belong together. Especially Rachel will know that you are my big grumpy bear from now on.”

“I was your big grumpy bear from the moment I laid eyes on you for the first time…”

Tags in reblog.

#walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #alpha!walter marshall x reader #a/b/o #walter marshall x you #alpha!walter marshall #female reader #smut #Big grumpy bear (FIN)

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scar-lie · 5 months

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Omega Pt. 8 [Natasha]

Summary : Natasha's world turns upside down when she learns the truth about breaking the bond

Pairing : Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Omega!Reader , Alpha!Natasha Romanoff x Alpha!Clitn Barton

Warning : Mention of death and crying

Word Count : 1,105

{OMEGA PT. 7} {OMEGA PT. 8} {OEMGA T. 9}

No one has permission to repost my work anywhere, if you see it let me know.

*BEEP*.........*BEEP*.........*BEE*.........*BEEP*

The steady heartbeat of Y/N can be heard all over the room, and the slow and shallow heartbeat

They decided to keep the two healthy babies, Y/N and her third baby, in one room; it's big enough for the four of them and to have enough space when the team decided to stay over night. Well, for Tony, it's still smaller, and he wants to expand the space.

But this breaks their hearts, especially Natasha. Seeing one of her pups in critical condition broke her.

"Hello there, little cutie; you look so beautiful like you, Mommies," Wanda whispers to the one who's separate from the two babies while she gently and carefully caresses her right check with the back of her pointer finger that wraps around the gloves.

"Look at your sister; that's your baby sister over there. Say hi," Yelena said while she held the one and Maria the other, waving their little hand that's wrapped around their finger to their sister.

"Why don't you come and see them?" Clint whispers, standing besides Natasha, who's outside your room window.

Afraid to come inside and look at or hold her pups in her arms, even though all she ever wants is to hold them, the thought of her hurting them or crashing them into her arm makes her fear her whole being.

"I'm good here; I-I think it's better if I stay here, outside," Natasha mumbles, wanting to at least get a glimpse of her pups but unable to do so because her two boys in Yelena and Maria's arms are wrapped around a baby blue blanket, and she can't see her daughter because she needs to stay in an incubator, so the only thing she can see is her tiny, cute foot.

"That's nonsense, Natasha. Come on, let's go inside. Don't you want to see them?" Natasha's eyes then converted to Y/N, who's sleeping peacefully in her bed. Her face is peaceful, making Natasha feel at ease, knowing she's safe.

"Natasha?" Clint gives her a light tug on her shoulder, then opens the door.

"Come on, let's see them." Natasha is hesitant, but when she looks back inside, Maria and Wanda motion for her to come inside, and seeing the look on her sister's face with pure happiness convinces her to come inside and join them.

"You wanna hold them?" Maria offers the sleeping pup in her arm to Natasha for her to hold, but the redhead contemplates her decision. They are tiny and precious, and she's afraid that she will crash them, so the best next option is to step forward and look at her pup, slowly and carefully caressing his cute, soft, chubby cheeks with the back of her pointer finger.

"He's so precious," Natasha whispers, smiling and melting her heart when he reaches for her finger and holds it in his palm, then yawns, nustles her finger in his chest, and sleeps with a smile on his face.

"He likes you," Maria whispered, watching the interaction between the two. Again, she tried to make Natasha hold him, but the redhead shook her head.

"No.....he-he looks comfortable in your arms," she says, giving Maria a smile. Then, when the baby loosens his grip, Natasha proceeds to Yelena, who's busy talking to the sleeping baby in her arms.

"Can I look at him?" Natasha asked, looking at Yelena, who's glaring at her. Yelena doesn't want her near the babies, but by the warning, look at the other three. She nodded and let Natasha come sit beside her, caressing the baby's head carefully.

The three look at the redhead with a smile, happy to see her so soft and extra careful around the babies, happy that at least Natasha tried to approach them, but the quiet and happy moment quickly stopped when an erratic sound of the monitor blaring around the room made the four of them panic, looking at you while Clint quickly ran out to call for help.

Natasha quickly ran out to the room, breathing heavily while tears were rolling down her face, and looked out the window, making sure her pups were okay and convincing herself that Y/N was okay while the doctors were frantically moving around the room, trying to revive you.

It took a few minutes to make your vital signs stable, and when Dr. Cho got out of the room, Natasha quickly stepped in front of her.

"She will be okay, right?" Natasha asked, worried, and Clint stood beside her.

"Honestly, I don't know. But the level of weakness of her body and how it's reacting, I-Ms. Romanoff, did you mate with her?" Natasha looked down and nodded, emberassed that she couldn't be the Alpha to her Omega.

"I'm going to be honest with you; I don't know if you know this or not, but once a mated couple tries to break a bond, there's a big consequence: either one of you will die or survive; some couples make it through survival, but..." Dr. Cho sighs, reading Natasha's body language. She's tense, frozen in her spot, trying to be strong, but deep inside of her, she knows that she's breaking.

"Say it," Natasha whispers, holding Clint's hand so tightly that her chuckles turn white.

"Well, in history, mostly Omega's are the ones who suffer from breaking the bond more than Alpha's, which means, mostly 98% of these cases are... Omega's are mostly the ones who died by breaking the bond and only 2% of their survival rate," Natasha gasps. She can't keep her tears at bay, but rather, they are running down her checks.

"I don't want to give you high hopes, but we're trying everything to prevent it from happening; we're using all of our sources to survive her." Natasha turned around and sobbed while Clint smiled at Dr. Cho, saying thank you and rubbing Natasha's back.

Her knees are getting weaker, so she has to lean on the wall beside her and slowly slide down until she's sitting down, resting her elbow in her knees, and her head is low between her arms, crying.

Clint stayed beside her, sitting down too, trying not to show his sadness, knowing Natasha needs him, but he just sat there, not saying anything because he knows that whatever he says will never change the fact that you could die in any minute now, but instead he just let his presence be there to at least make Natasha feel that she's not alone.

Taglist : @alwaysgoodnight @natashaswife4125

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auspicioustidings · 1 month

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Look I will write it but urgh. NSFW abo nonsense below.

Alpha Soap who kidnaps beta reader to some abandoned warehouse because she's "in heat". She keeps crying that she's not an omega, he keeps saying he can smell her slick and growling at her to stop hiding. Makes her try to make a nest then makes condescending comments about how bad it is. Fucks her with no lube or prep because she's built for it so doesn't need any. Knots her through her screeching, coos at her he knows how good it must feel. Makes her try to purr. Doesn't matter that his bark doesn't work how it would on an omega because she's so terrified she'll follow his orders regardless. Sinks his teeth into her neck to add her to his pack.

For the best he says, she's so insatiable his little slut omega that he needs his pack or he'll never be able to fully satisfy her. Isn't she lucky his pack are willing to take on such a terrible brat of an omega? So kind of them to bring all sorts of plugs so even when a knot isn't in her, she's still kept nice and full of their cum. It'll settle her they say. That's what omegas need after all, they need to always be covered in their alphas scents, full of their cum and attentive to their every need. Sometimes they'll bring another omega in and fuck him through heat as a demonstration. But they'd hate for their cum to be wasted on an omega who isn't theirs, so she'd better crawl over and clean out his ass properly.

So she'll be a good little girl and stay chained in her nest in this warehouse while they train her to be a proper omega. If she'd just give in and stop fighting then they promise they'll take her home and they won't need to punish her so much. Doesn't that sound nice? They'd even give her a bath. I mean they'll need to make sure to rub their cum right back into her skin after, but after weeks in this warehouse doesn't a bath sound nice?

By the end of the month she is their perfect little omega. Begs for knots so nicely, always wants their clothes to put in the big soft nest they've set up for her at home, never wears underwear under their oversized shirts and is willing and eager to take them whenever they ask. Of course they're not setting her up to fail just so they can punish her again, but it's only nature that when she denies her omega instincts they need to get her back on track even when she pleads and says she didn't mean it. It's for her own good <3

#mhairidrabbles #losing my mind actually

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anonymouslyel · 2 years

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thinking about steddie omegaverse au with confident omega steve harrington.

just strutting into hawkins high with no scent patches on his neck and wrists, letting his cinnamon-like (spicy & woody with a tinge of metallic) scent permeate the air not caring about other people's reaction.

because of this, his nose had become more sensitive. he's learned to differentiate scents from one another and from his own.

with enough anger inside him, he punches any assholes who hit on him, alpha or not, before they even finish what disgusting lines they have ready for the day

this is him rebelling, his parents disappointed in having a male omega as their first born when they are both alphas. this is him raising his middle fingers in his parents' face. he's gonna let the whole town know that a harrington is an omega.

he leaves broken hearts on every step and smirk, not even a bit apologetic. he very much clearly said its only a one time thing. they agreed. they shouldn't be chasing steve like this.

its sophomore year when he first met eddie munson. eddie interrupting steve making out with an alpha he doesn't remember. steve just liked her scent and entertained the girl's approach.

eddie didnt actually interrupt their make out session but more of steve taking a whiff of his scent when he's taking out some papers and a small recrangular tin can from his locker to steve's right.

it's a weird mixture of natural scents, sweat and weed, and his own scent that has steve wanting more. steve can't pinpoint an exact name for it. it's like when the sun shined bright the whole day then a heavy rain falls, the moment the rain stopped and you get out, that's eddie's scent, only muddier, reminds him of trees and mud and wet ground. calming, natural, safe.

steve's mind is full of it that his eyes follow eddie walk away while the alpha in front of her whines and spouts some nonsense.

junior year comes and steve still thinks about eddie at night and wonders why his scent stood out from the rest. steve got used to the onslaught of different scents he smells everyday, he can tune those out easily, but eddie's scent piqued his interest.

eddie who is the school's resident nerd and weirdo, the freak to steve's the king.

somehow, even how the school is small, steve seldom encountered eddie and his distinct scent. steve can't fault him too, eddie's crowd normally stays away from steve's.

the next time steve sees eddie, his scent is muted, easily covered by other scents in the vicinity, but steve can still smell it. eddie's sitting with the hellfire club members while steve's with the basketball team.

eddie ties up his hair and there steve sees several scent patches. whereas other would use two for each side of their neck, eddie has at least four, two on each sides.

from then on, it got harder and harder to pick eddie's scent from the crowd whenever their in the same space. and that pissed steve off. he wants to be near eddie, wants that scent that makes steve feel calm and safe to surround him all the time, wants that alpha he chose for himself.

he wants to be near eddie again and he's gonna do everything to do that.

steve (intentionally) offhandedly mentions about a dnd club in school to dustin and lets dustin do the work. of course he pretends to be angry about the kids asking him to ask the club manager if they can play with them. of course he agrees after four times of saying no.

steve knocks into the drama club's room that turns into hellfire club's room in wednesdays and fridays. how did he know? he doesnt wanna talk about it.

it opens after a few moment and eddie is in front of him. the scent is muted but present nonetheless and steve leans into it.

"what is a royalty doing in the peasants' room?" eddie raised a brow, holding the door open just for half of his body to be seen.

steve took note of it. protective of his pack. strong-headed when needed. willing to shield his pack using his body. steve is weak at the knee.

"my friends want to know if they can play dnd with your club?" steve smiles, let's his scent do the talking. because eddie might be using scent patches but steve does not.

he's pretty sure he's used the wrong term or asked it in a wrong way but hey, he's talking to eddie now.

someone shouts inside and eddie looks at him. steve was about to blurt out something but eddie says, "meet me here after school and we'll talk about your friends."

steve raises his pinky, he gotta make sure eddie's serious. he used the kids' weakness to be close to eddie so he needs to make their wishes come true.

"my friends would be really hurt if you don't consider," he explains and wiggles his pinky. eddie quickly curled his own pinky to steve saying, "promise. now go, before your team see your presence here and ruin my game again," and closed the door with click of a lock.

steve decides to spend the few fours to talking to his team and making them pinky promise that they won't go anywhere near the hellfire club anymore.

steve can't have these dumbfucks ruining his plan to be close to eddie enough to ask if he can court him because fuck traditions. he'll court the alpha he likes because he can. he'll protect the alpha he chooses because he can. because steve wants to.

#steddie #omegaverse #alpha eddie munson #omega steve harrington #omega!steve #alpha!eddie #steveddie #steve x eddie #im a sucker for confident and unapologetic omegas in any of my ships #and so far all ive seen is omega!steve relying on alpha!eddie #and i eat those up too #but i want confident and unapologetic omega!steve too #yel's stvd posts

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ghuleh-recs · 7 months

Note

any Ifrit fics??

ask and ye shall RECEIVE, anon!! thank you for giving me the perfect opening for an Ifrit-themed fic rec friday. i looove the buff fire himbo.

fics under the cut.

Aurum Infernum - @belle--ofthebrawl - Dewdrop x Ifrit

"Lemme pierce you." Ifrit says. "Pierce me." Dew says a little hazily. "Yeah, ok." He already has his ears done a few times. What's one more? "Here," Ifrit clarifies, moving his hand so he's got his index and middle finger splayed in a vee over Dew's right nipple.

Angel of Small Death - @fourleggedocto - Dewdrop x Ifrit

“Dewdrop, give it up. Staring at it isn’t going to make it grow back,” Ifrit groans, walking into the little water ghoul’s room to find him exactly where he left him 2 hours: in front of the mirror, completely naked, shaking fingers hovering over his little dick. It's the only part of this new, weird meat vessel he hasn’t gotten used to, and he's adamant he never will. Ifrit thinks it’s amazing, the best looking dick he’s ever seen, and he needs him to know it. “Can I show you?”

untitled ficlet - @littlemoon-beam - Dewdrop x Ifrit

Prompt: Ok, so. I have a favourite rare pair. Top Dewdrop x Bottom Iftit. Idk, there is just something about the big guy offering himself up to his smaller counterpart is just sooooo… You know? I doubt a big brash guy Ifrit takes a knot very often either so maybe Dew might need to coach him through it a little 🥺

Into the Eyes of Fire - @forlorn-crows - Dewdrop x Ifrit

The look in question happened only a few hours ago: the pair of them galivanting around the stage, charging at each other like wild bulls during the bridge of Year Zero. Until Ifrit rose up on his toes, hovering only a few inches above Dew as he leaned in for a mock kiss. He may as well have been two feet taller with the way his rich brown eyes bore straight into Dew's, getting closer and closer until the water ghoul was forced to pull away. It was no more than a few seconds. But the shared look between the two of them was more than enough to convey Dew's desperate thoughts. Ifrit had regarded him with a calculating stare as keycards were handed out for the evening, grasping Dew by the arm and pulling him flush to his side as they made the short trek up to the room—separating from him only long enough to shove their bags in the bathroom and hook the latch over the door. Now Dew whimpers, barely loud enough to be considered a sound. His head thumps against the wall, hips canting into Ifrit’s. The fire ghoul chuffs, nails tracing patterns into the exposed skin around the hemline of Dew’s shirt, goosebumps rising in their wake. “Gonna make you cry; that’s what you want, isn’t it, baby?”

(*sweating nervously* okay i didn't realize until now that maybe i have a thing for dew x ifrit. time to switch it up whoops.)

Competition/Jealousy - @st-danger - Dewdrop x Ifrit x Swiss

“At least get his legs over your shoulders,” Ifrit drawls. Swiss is going to lose his mind, he really is. The irritation the ghoul lounging beside them is throwing off is absurd. He has Dew underneath him, one of his hands under a slim thigh, holding it to his side. His other, elbow locked straight as he rocks into the little body below, long, luxurious rolls of his hips while Dew’s eyes roll back and he paws at Swiss’s chest.

give in again - @gayrickgrimes - Dewdrop x Ifrit x Swiss

swissdewfrit fluffy nonsense

(okay. okay! i know dew is still there. i'm trying. hold on.)

Needy - @iamthecomet - Aether x Ifrit

Ifrit leans his head into Aether's warm thigh as Aether slips his fingers into his hair, and scratches his claws along his scalp lightly. He sinks into the feeling. He wants it to be enough. Of course, it isn't. He bites back a whine and presses even closer to Aether's leg. He hates that Aether's wearing pants. That he can't have the satisfaction of skin on skin. He wants--needs--more. And Aether’s intent dragging it out, like always.

layman's terms - @ghoulifrit (lmk if they have a tumblr) - Alpha x Ifrit

It’s shameful, really, how bad he wants it to happen and how scared he is to do anything to make it so. And for what? What’s the worst Alpha could do? Reject him? Except yes, that’s it, that’s exactly it—Ifrit is completely certain, that that’s not the kind of rejection he’d be able to handle. The embarrassment would eat him alive and he’d never look at Alpha ever again. It’s safer to just forget about this and move on, but fuck, he wants it still, though.

𖤐 you know the drill--bookmark, read, and leave kudos/comments!

#the ifritties should come with a warning #ifriddies?#shrug #fic rec friday #my fic recs #the band ghost fic rec #ifrit ghoul #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #dewdrop ghoul #aether ghoul #swiss ghoul #alpha ghoul #nameless ghouls #nameless ghouls fic #the band ghost fanfic #ghost band fanfic #fic rec!!

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fourmula1 · 1 year

Note

Love our sad baby alpha max but it’s Monday and, i love you 😘 and can we have a little baby omega max as a treat… i say we I mean ME.. sad or happy.. ❤️❤️ the reasoning here is nonsensical. Happy Monday 🌸

The thing about presenting as an omega was that Max was – and had to be – more on guard around others than he’d ever before in his life.

Before presentation Max had never given a second thought to anyone’s secondary genders, to who was an alpha or an omega or a beta. He’d never cared, never really noticed, never reacted to anyone.

Never felt nervous, or anxious, or.

Unsafe.

As a young, newly presented omega Max was astutely aware, now, of his own vulnerability in a way he never had been, before. He’d always been confident, even cocky, in who he was as a person and a driver but the presentation of his omega status left him reeling.

He could smell people’s emotions in ways he never had before. He could sense people’s intentions or desires in ways that made him supremely uncomfortable to think about. Max wanted to race, and have fun, and drive in Formula 1, and not think about the way alphas in the paddock leered at him, reacted to his scent, obviously eyed him over with more sinister thoughts in mind.

He felt safe with Red Bull, with his own team, but he wasn’t always comfortable when out and about in the paddock or… the world. He was young, and he knew that he smelled like new, unmated, untouched omega to the alphas around him and that left him feeling nervous and objectified.

Alphas he’d joked around with, been friends with, before now looked at him in a new light and Max hated every second of it. He was still Max. Still a racer. Still just himself. But now he was also an omega and that changed things for a lot of alphas in his life, which hurt and felt so unfair.

He wasn’t necessarily Max to them anymore. He was potential. An available omega to conquer.

“You, again,” Daniel said as he entered his driver’s room, shaking his head at Max who was curled onto the little couch scrolling through his phone. “You have your own room, you know,” Daniel said but it wasn’t malicious, only teasing. Daniel was never mean to him.

“I just like it in here,” Max answered, though he was certain Daniel knew that wasn’t the whole truth.

Daniel was an alpha. Daniel never made Max feel nervous. Daniel smelled like warm, dusky earth and golden sunshine, and. And safety.

Max knew that Daniel knew Max hid in Daniel’s room lest he be found out our sought after in his own. In here, he could just be, and no one would bother him.

“Everything okay?” Daniel asked, because he knew – no doubt could smell – Max’s anxieties and uncertainty in who he was as an omega. Daniel had assured him it would come – he’d get comfortable and figure himself out – but Max wasn’t there yet.

“Just don’t like being alone in there,” Max shrugged, putting his phone down and looking up when Daniel came over to squeeze himself onto the little couch with Max. Max wasted no time in ducking under Daniel’s arm, taking comfort in the warm alpha scent of him and the way Daniel wrapped him up easily in a cuddle.

“I know,” Daniel nodded, and Max preened a little when Daniel dragged his nose along Max’s hairline, not quite scenting him fully but obviously taking him in. “You can be in here whenever you want,” Daniel said.

Max rested his head against Daniel’s shoulder and sighed. He wasn’t afraid of the alphas around him, but he was uncomfortable and unsettled with the newly vulnerable position he was in, because of his biology. A bad person could take advantage and Max hated the thought.

Daniel would never. Daniel let him cuddle and settle and wait out his feelings as he figured his new omega self out.

Daniel smelled of warmth, and safety, and calm. A safe port in the storm of Max’s life.

#anxious baby omega max #alpha daniel #maxiel

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yourfriendlybi · 6 months

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Okay so everyone knows the trope of the couples meeting parents/family members, right?

Can we do that with ErrorInk?

And I don't mean with Ink meeting Errors family, no no no (Tho that would be funny)

I mean Error meeting Ink's family, the WHOLE ZephyrTop AU, because I think that would be funny

#alpha saying nonsense again #I just think it be hilarious #seeing UnderTop!Sans and UnderTop!Papyrus just STARING #At Error like “You BETTER be treating Ink well”#ink sans #inktale #zephyrtop #error sans #errortale #chromatic aberration ship #errink #errorink #errorxink #error x ink #sancest #utmv

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asukaskerian · 8 months

Text

bleach - same verse as Howling Outside Your Door

ABO universe, worldbuilding + fallout from the main body of a grimmichi fic (in between fic and epilogue) : ichigo makes his way back home.

(it used to be that attempt at epilogue that stumped me for like six months.)

i'm not posting it on AO3 yet because the flow bothers me, idk about the ending lines, and also i want to put it inside a collection fic for that 'verse but i don't wanna start a collection when it's the only thing i can put in it. so like, i'll probably post it there if/when i manage another fic but for now, it's here.

So Ichigo did the walk of shame back to town in archaic underwear and what amounted to a mid-thigh bathrobe.

Fair enough, he told himself (and Hollow Zangetsu, who replied with nothing but snickering in the back of his head and a sensation of a door closing with a firm and definitive snap between them.)

Or... Maybe fair was the wrong word, but -- whatever. He didn't actually... mind. It would be embarrassing when he finally reached town, but --

No matter. Never mind. He would deal. It was just weird, being alone again.

He hopped over a tree trunk with casual disregard, and promptly caught his toe on it and tripped when his sleeve started ringing out of nowhere. His foot landed with a wet squelch in something unidentifiable; he plunged his hand down his sleeve to grab the spirit flip phone Urahara had somehow managed to inflict on him.

"Yeah? -- oh, gross."

"Who are you calling gross, little boy?"

-- Oh. He stopped walking, phone pressed to his ear and one foot still up, trying to flick the weird mush out from between his toes. "Rukia? They called you in?"

Just hearing her voice made his shoulders relax, his back straighten.

"I came with the Captain-Commander." Her voice was all no-nonsense, extra-professional; Kyōraku was probably in the room with her. Ichigo tried not to feel too disappointed. He'd hoped... "Now Urahara-san tells us a garganta just opened and closed, can you confirm?"

"Yeah, they just left. Peacefully and with half of my house's entire stock of pillows."

He was rewarded with a little 'heh.' "And your estimated time of arrival at the shop?"

"Oh, uh." Ugh. Five minutes if he flew, but he didn't want to fly. "Fifte... thirty minutes. I gotta... stuff."

"Very well." She turned away from the phone, voice gone muffled as she relayed his words. Sigh.

"Alright," she said all at once, in such a different tone he almost startled. "I'm in the ladies' room. Tell me why you're coming back on foot. Are you brooding?"

Ichigo spluttered, and shoved a branch out of his face with a little more -- enthusiasm. (Relief.) "What the hell makes you think that?!"

"If you were injured you'd say so. You wouldn't make poor Inoue cry thinking of you limping back through rough terrain on your lonesome."

"...Mngh."

"Also... Ichigo, I'm an alpha too. Do you think I don't understand how it might feel to devote a couple nights slaking a lover's lust and shielding their most intimate vulnerabilities only for them to disappear in the morning?"

He swallowed. Cleared his throat. "... I keep forgetting you're an alpha."

"Bullshit you do, you're just a deviant."

"Ugh, shut up. Nobody still goes by Sengoku era rules for friend groups."

Fewer and fewer people even still held onto it for actual packs in the Living World, but Soul Society, he knew, held firmly to that rule at least. A household might have several omegas, and definitely several betas, but more than one, unrelated alpha? Too shocking for their old-timey sensibilities. Kind of... queer.

Rukia's voice went teasingly cloying. "There, there, it's okay if you consider me a senior alpha, a patriarch of sorts, a mentor in the ways of--"

"I really, really don't."

"Hmph. Upstart."

"You really missed an occasion to call me a whippersnapper there."

She clicked her tongue. "Drat, I really did. Lout?"

"Lout's a good one."

A moment of quiet fell between them. Ichigo tried to swallow back the choking feeling making its way up his throat.

He wished she were here, walking in the woods with him. Her and Chad and Renji. Ishida and Inoue and Tatsuki too, while he was at it, though he and Tatsuki were guaranteed to get into a brawl as long as he was still this choked up on hormones. Just thinking of his childhood friend even close enough to smell his omega on his skin made him bite back a growl.

He'd probably still growl at Rukia, but not... Not the same way.

Not now that Grimmjow was gone, and his pack with him.

"Ow, fuck."

"Hm?"

"Stubbed my toe. Listen, Rukia..."

"Yes."

It's just stupid hormones, right? he wanted to ask. Nothing else. It's hormones and discovering so much all at once about a man who made such a strong impression on me back then, and I'm a bit shaken, and it will pass. Can you please tell me that? But he couldn't push out any of that.

"Can you bring me clothes?" he asked instead. "Or my body, I should probably--"

He probably shouldn't get his body yet, actually. Kyōraku was here.

Kyōraku was here about Mayuri.

"... Am I getting arrested?"

He didn't even have time to brace for the answer; Rukia immediately dismissed it with a snort. "Don't be ridiculous. They don't have the funds to repair the prison break damages."

"... Uh. Maybe I would... not escape..."

"You wouldn't have the time to turn around in your jail cell before all your friends rose up to break you out and you know it." A sigh. "I'm not saying there won't be... complications... but -- just get home, Ichigo. It'll be okay."

He sped up a little, in the end.

Rukia met him at the edge of the woods with a new shihakusho, and the smile she pinched down was only a little bit teasing and a lot more sympathetic. He didn't want to growl at all.

He wanted to growl later on when he walked through the front of Urahara's shop past a double row of rank-and-file shinigami all side-eyeing him to find, in the tatami room behind it, the captain-commander sprawled out with a cup of "tea" in hand.

Inoue and Ishida and Chad were sitting there in front of him, in polite seiza, and for a second all Ichigo could see was 'a strange alpha around my pack' and 'a threat'.

Then Rukia whacked him between the shoulder blades, propelling him past the threshold, and Kyōraku -- quick shrewd glance, genial smile -- reclined some more, and waved. "Kurosaki-kun! Hello."

"... I'm not so close to losing control that you need to show me your belly, Kyōraku-san." Mostly because taking that opening to attack would be a mistake that would cost Ichigo his life, he was pretty sure. But still.

The man laughed. "Ah, but it helps, doesn't it."

Grumbling, Ichigo looked away. None of his pack looked rattled or unsure or scrunched-down; Ishida was on the cool side of reserved, but he always was around high-ranking shinigami, and Inoue and Chad looked like they'd been having a nice little talk before he came in. Ichigo made his way to the cushion they'd left empty in the middle and sat with a grumble, ignoring Ishida's pointed sniff.

"I don't suppose you could have taken a shower first," Ishida muttered.

"Shut up. No."

Kyōraku straightened up a bit, leaning back on his hand but mostly vertical, legs crossed. Ichigo busied himself taking the bigger Zangetsu off his back to rest it on the floor beside him with the blade turned inwards, since Kyōraku had done the same with his sabers and they were apparently playing the antique version of the 'everybody is friendly here' game really insistently.

(The shorter blade across the small of his back stayed put, though.)

"Ahh, does any of you need a little bit to reestablish scent mar--"

"No," Ishida and Ichigo chorused with disgust, and Inoue echoed with flailing hands when the man's eyes turned to her.

Chad chuckled, looking away. In the middle of gracefully kneeling to sit at the side of the table, Rukia snorted, and then coughed delicately to try to cover it up.

"Hoo. Are you not a pack, then?"

"Yes we are."

"But you don't --"

The man was toying with his tea cup and looking pleasantly friendly. Ichigo's eyes narrowed.

"Ah -- Tatskuki-chan agreed to be my designated heat partner before I met -- she's my best friend, you know?"

"Mnh. And in a traumatizing turn of events," Ishida added, "it turns out Kurosaki and I are related. Distantly, but I don't know of any distance that would be far enough, so--"

"That's not what you're here to talk about," Ichigo interrupted, and only moderately felt bad.

Mayuri had acted very certain that his little side trips were going to be met with a rap on his knuckles at the very worst.

Ichigo should have been thinking of Nemu-san, who would probably mourn the bastard. Of all the important miracles the man had probably accomplished in the name of Soul Society, or was still in the middle of bringing forth.

All he could think was, 'he made Grimmjow's packmates turn on him and was smug about it', and try as he may to bury it, the thought just kept echoing with what he had felt back when Tsukishima took the people he loved. That raw despair, that powerlessness.

Ichigo was a very civilized alpha, from one of the most restrained and polite countries in the world. He liked Kyōraku. He respected Kyōraku. He still growled.

Kyōraku watched him without saying anything for a moment, head tilted.

"I don't suppose an official mutual apology to soothe ruffled feathers is in the cards then."

Ichigo's jaw ached. "I'll apologize to Nemu-san."

Rukia inhaled slowly between her teeth, hands fisted on her knees. "... Ah. The Central 46..."

Kyōraku hummed, watching him. Ichigo stared back. At his side his friends didn't know why he had taken this hard tone, but they still straightened up, hardening their resolve to match, to shore him up.

"Well! You're a very young human startled in a very delicate, very irrational moment. Kurotsuchi-taicho should have known better."

"Kurosaki-san is extremely regretful, I'm sure," Rukia lied with her 'Nobles don't have emotions, only prissiness' face on. "Emotional. Terrible for all involved."

And Ichigo knew what they were doing, knew this was saving face and nothing else, agreeing on a half-assed lie to sell those other guys, knew that shoving their noses in the truth would only be annoying for everyone, but he -- but.

Grimmjow. Ed. Di Roy.

Not a single one of them mattered one whit to the Central 46. Just vermin.

"I don't understand why you kept him," he said.

"Ah... Kurosaki-kun." And now Kyōraku looked sad. Pitying. Ichigo liked him, he reminded himself again.

"I understand he was really useful. And you lost Urahara, so it was him or nothing."

"Mmh." Kyōraku rolled the cup in his hand slowly. "That and we sometimes needed someone who could make the hard decisions fast. Ruthless."

"The problem was that he also made easy decisions fast -- as long as they were easy for him." Ichigo speared him with a look. "You are ruthless. He was a sociopath."

Kyōraku paused, hand gone still, gaze briefly turned inwards. "...Ah."

"If we could go and find his secret labs. How many of his projects would be useful, even if they're horrible, and how many would be something the council in charge would close their eyes on in order to keep him happy? Who approved him torturing arrancar, when Harribel-san asked to get them back? Was it just because she hadn't heard about those ones, so hey, great, a loophole? What else was he doing?!"

... Ah. Rukia's hand was on his hand, which was clenched in a fist on the table. Ichigo was halfway out of his seat. Okay. Alright. Breathe.

... Breathe.

Ichigo was just a normal human young adult. Lecturing a military leader of hundreds, thousands of people felt -- wrong. Disrespectful. They had centuries of tradition he knew nothing about, political and social pressure from places he had no idea about. As an outsider, it was easy to be idealistic.

It wasn't his job to sort them out, so why was it his job?! He tilted his head back, breathing deeply as he stared at the ceiling, and turned his hand in Rukia's grasp so he could grasp her back. Tight pressure, anchoring. Chad's hand on his other shoulder, gentle and warm.

He'd killed Mayuri out of hand, and that part terrified him. That he had decided, 'this man brings nothing to the world that would pay for who he is,' and erased him. That he was able to do that.

It hadn't felt like righteous anger at all. Or like self-defense. It had felt like handing down judgment.

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked.

'Was it the wrong judgment call to make, though?' he thought, or old man Zangetsu thought, or something murkier in between the two of them. Something cold and old and remote, that asked of his choice, 'Would you unmake it?', and the answer was no.

"Ichigo."

"Queasy," he managed to answer. Inoue immediately went rummaging in her backpack for a bottle of water, presenting it with a worried frown. He somehow managed a smile. The water was on the tepid side but still helped distract him, bring him back down.

"Hormone hangover?" Ishida asked, sounding only vaguely interested in the way he did when he didn't want to betray any worry. "It's not actually an uncommon side effect."

"Ah... Maybe. What do you do to get over it?"

"Just sit in a room alone until it passes, honestly. I'm told it happens more often when there's several omegas at once," he added, and looked away, and Ichigo arched an eyebrow. The tip of Ishida's visible ear was a little red. Hm.

... Inoue was rummaging in her bag with twice the enthusiasm suddenly, and her face was pinkening rapidly.

Dang. Apparently he owed Tatsuki a fistbump.

Shaking his head, an amused smile on his lips, Ichigo turned back to Kyōraku. "Sorry, sorry. Just..."

The man chuckled quietly. "I understand."

He drank his probably-doctored tea. Ichigo drank his water. Everyone concentrated on their cup for a little while.

"... Anyways. What's going to happen now?"

"About Captain Kurotsuchi or about your arrancar?

"Or about Kurosaki," Ishida added waspishly.

"Yes, yes. Well -- the Central 46 are going to have a meeting, and they're going to yell a lot about wanting a dangerously feral part-hollow with a track record of going against Soul Society contained somehow--"

It did not escape Ichigo's notice that the description matched him better than Grimmjow.

"And then I will regretfully explain to them that we don't have the manpower or the social capital for that. Nowadays Grimmjow Jaegerjaquez is almost as powerful as Tier Harribel and five times as lethal. She's not about to allow us to take away her strongest invasion deterrent, and she commands a good third of all hollows -- mostly the smarter ones."

"And the fact that he wouldn't have invaded if you guys weren't keeping his friends in a 'torture basement'?"

Kyōraku gave him such an empty smile Ichigo almost shuddered. "Ah, Kurosaki-kun, it's sweet that you can still be so innocent. It's entirely fair not to respect the word you gave to a hollow! Especially in the name of gaining better intelligence on our ancestral enemy. Greater good, and all that."

... Ugh.

So Grimmjow wasn't a person and his government was only respected for now because 'not enough manpower' and 'so far they're staying out of the way'. Then again the more Ichigo thought about the Court of Pure Souls and the more he wondered if they'd ever picked up the words "human rights violation" while passing by in the last century, because they sure didn't treat powerless human souls or even the members of their own military much better.

"So it's going to be brushed under the rug," Ishida concluded grimly.

"That part of it at least. The Central 46 might attempt to issue you a summons to explain yourself before their court."

"Huh." Not his idea of a great time, getting yelled at by self-important blowhards, but if it kept the peace, kept his good relations with the 13 Divisions intact...

He wasn't sure, though. The asshole council might take it as him agreeing that he was under their authority. He'd have to ask Urahara about how to proceed.

"Haa!" Kyōraku put his cup down with a little thwack. "Replacing him is going to be such a pain."

Ichigo grimaced, a pinch of irritation mixed with guilt.

"Perhaps not," came from the other door, a panel sliding open to unveil Urahara himself, carrying a little plate with store-brand senbei artistically arranged on it. He looked ridiculously pleased with it.

(Nobody looked especially surprised at his sudden entrance, but then again they were all used to him by now.)

Ichigo stared at Urahara. Surely the man couldn't mean he would replace Mayuri. After everything Soul Society had done to him, how they'd thrown him out -- and he liked it here, he had a whole life with Yoruichi and Tessai and the kids and no oversight --

Ichigo was still in the middle of catching himself (no oversight -- that was the problem with Mayuri too--) when Urahara grinned brightly and went, "For a price, of course!"

"... You're going to make them pay through their noses, aren't you."

His smile turned sharper-edged. "Good. They might hold back unless it really matters, then."

Rukia stayed behind, afterwards -- nominally to supervise the Tenth Division squad who was going to stay on site for cleanup, but after she was done saluting Kyōraku as he left and giving quick directions to her subordinates she followed Ichigo and his pack right back inside the shop.

Then they took over one of the tatami side rooms -- not the one that still smelled like Kyōraku -- and when Ichigo slumped down in the middle they kind of all sat with him.

Not on him, the way Grimmjow's pack had done with each other, not languid and close, all nonchalant and uncaring about an ankle draped over another ankle or a friendly punch to the nearest shoulder just passing by. But near enough. Nobody was in heat or anything, and besides they weren't Europeans.

Right now he was kind of butthurt about that. PDAs were so embarrassing but a side-hug might be ... not entirely horrible today.

"How's the hangover?" Chad asked, a big paw on his shoulder. It wasn't as big as Ed's hands, or as fever-warm -- the guy had a fire shikai or the equivalent, he was almost sure -- but it was good. Ichigo sighed.

"Meh." He flicked him a smile. "Better now."

Quiet for a little while. Inoue had found another water bottle in her bottomless bag. Ichigo sipped at it, talking himself down.

It was all fine now. It was over.

"Your house is fixed, by the way! Ah -- it's still very dusty, Ishida-kun didn't let me--"

"I can handle a broom, Inoue-san!" Ishida protested. "I can't let you do everything and exhaust yourself like this. Also the drapes needed an upgrade, when's the last time they were changed?"

"Probably when mom was still around," Ichigo said thoughtlessly, and shrugged through the familiar pinch of pain. "I don't mind if you add frills, but you should ask Yuzu and Karin. They probably have a whole binder of decoration stuff..."

... Actually he kinda minded a little. Were Ishida's embellishments ridiculous? Yeah, yeah they were. But he still didn't want--

"Ichigo?" Rukia asked, sinking down into seiza at his side, head tilted to watch his face. "Bad thought?"

"No, no. Just woolgathering." What a weird train of thought.

He didn't want Ishida to decorate his dad's home.

He wouldn't mind if it were his own place with the lace doilies for drapes, though. And Inoue could bring a huge plushie or strange fridge art, and Chad band posters, or hell, he could do his own room the way he wanted, and Rukia --

Well, she could do her own closet the way she liked it, too, he didn't judge, though he'd have to procure one big enough to fold Renji into first. Tatsuki could have the house next door with a room each for their two pack omegas and put a little gate between their yards, and he would piss her off by leaving his nerdy books all over her living room.

"... You're aware that you're whining, right?"

Ichigo was, in fact, whining. Very quietly in his throat, while having the stupidest domestic fantasy out of nowhere--

"So!" Rukia interrupted his idiocy, slapping her hands on her thighs. "The guy who put an arm through my guts that one time."

"--fuck."

"Also put his arm through other people around Inoue, as far as I heard. Also some Quincy. And... also promised to kill you? Gruesomely?"

Groaning, Ichigo sank into himself, both hands on his face. "He also put his hand halfway through me one or two times," he admitted, hoping it was muffled enough that nobody would understand him.

"... Well."

Ichigo groaned again. Yeah, uh. Okay. His tastes were apparently shit --

"Don't make that face," Rukia said, a little awkwardly, and elbowed him in the side as she sat next to him. "If you didn't blow through troops of assholes and came back out with three new best friends, would you even be Ichigo?"

Chad laughed, quiet and deep. Ichigo growl-whined some more.

"I was just saying! That I feel like, I don't even need to ask you what he's like in bed."

Ichigo spluttered.

"Well, I do!" Inoue declared, earnest and blushing even as she met his eyes. "H-how was the sex, Kurosaki-kun?"

... She still said 'sex' like it was a super forbidden extra-shocking word their schoolteacher was gonna whack them over the head with, with an edge of earnest 'did you have fun with your new friend, sweetie?'. He deflated all over again, his whine acquiring an edge of despairing laughter.

"... He asked me to be there for his next heat."

"Oooooooh."

"I'm already planning the nest."

"Well! You're fucked," Ishida said with a tone that almost passed for sympathy, and they all took turns patting his back until the flustered misery had been beaten all the way out of him.

#ABO quest #grimmichi #kinda #asuka writes

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daenystheedreamer · 8 months

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Wondering how you are connecting the valar thing to patriarchy? I don't disagree I just feel like I missed some steps in your post lmao

yeah my bad i forget this isnt my personal secret diary that no one reads and also that you need more than the alpha and the omega this isnt jesus. you also need beta gamma delta etcetc like posts need linking threads so my b brother

so my personal valyrian incest theory is material and economic: that the dragonlords wanted to hoard wealth within families (much like a dragon!) and especially hoard the supposed 'dragonrider blood', which necessitated the marrying of brothers to sisters. its european monarchical consanguinity taken to its absurd extreme. the incest is mentioned as being among dragonrider families specifically.

but i think it goes a step further i think having weapons of mass destruction that are linked basically biologically and equally (as in, both men and women can be dragonriders) gives women especially feudal women an INSANE amount of personal mobility and agency. letting women start their own families and well deseminate the bloodline means both the wealth is spread and this caste system crumbles. there were only about 40 dragonrider families in valyrian aristocracy.

there's theories that the incest is for the purposes of blood magic, that it makes them for real actually ethnically superior (bleugh kys), that there is a magical spiritual etc reason for it but i prefer materialism sorry i think it makes it more interesting i like human conflict in the story about humanity :(

and my linchpin for all this like threadbare nonsense is how aegon wed visenya to shore up his inheritance. it is a fundementally sexist act it places aegon's inheritance above visenya's. there is the implication that visenya could have, in the future, been a threat to his inheritance.

we predominantly see valyrian incest only in the targs which is unfortunate (FOR ANALYSIS FOR ANALYSIS!!!) since the targs and their relation to valyria is so fucking emotional and freudian and weird so they're not like a neutral test case. but the incestuous dynamics are so so so often deeply misogynistic. its men wielding power over women because their lusts are more important, because they are entitled to women. again it all goes back to the FIRST DANY CHAPTER. viserys forcefully marrying 13yo daenerys, dressed in golden collars just like the slaves etched in valyrian runes, to an adult man with the near gleeful knowledge she will be raped and abused.

SO THE FUCKING VALAR THING. honestly mostly a joke for me. all my posts are just things i think are funny in the ten seconds i post them. morghul- means death and dohae- means serve and the -is suffix is i think genitive?? leaving the 'valar' to serve (heh) as the 'all men' section of the quote. there's an elio+linda quote saying valar is probably in reference to valyria (as opposed to a reference to the valar of tolkien). it reminds me of how patria (fatherland, country, etc) is from pater (father). valyria - valar. its just very masculine and my nerd etymologist brain thought it was funny. i hope this rambling 7 paragraph fucking unabomber manifesto sounding answer makes sense 💀

#anonymous #ask #valyria #asoiaf #ALL MY OPINION. MY INTERPRETATION. I AM NOT CLAIMING THIS AS CANON OR PISSING ON ANYONE'S IDEAS. PLEASE NO ONE YELL AT ME 😭

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stevetonyweekly · 5 months

Text

SteveTony Weekly - December 2nd

Hey, y’all! Here’s what I read over the past two weeks. Enjoy and be sure to give your author a comment & kudos!

immutable as gravity by Areiton

There’s something about flying that he can’t explain.

There’s a freedom to it that he’s never felt, anywhere else, doing anything else.

It’s like inventing and the best first kiss of his life, like anything is possible, as he hovers between earth and space, and only the strength of his bird around him.

There’s other things in his life that have been better--but he can count them on one hand and still have fingers leftover.

it might just have been you by Areiton

"You have the whole world in front of you, Tony," Steve says, slowly. "When you get off this boat, there's nothing to stop you from living the life you want. If that's as a mechanic with a nice Alpha--you can have that. Just because what you grew up with is trash, doesn't mean that all alphas are. You can still have exactly what you want."

Tony laughs, and it feels brittle, sharp, cutting at his throat as it spills between them. "There aren't nice Alphas, Captain. No one is nice enough to walk away from a billion dollar fortune for someone like me."

"I would," Steve says, and it feels like a confession, like something he doesn't mean to share, and all the more precious for it.

It Takes a Village (or a team of superheroes) by aven_garde

Three months after the Chitauri attack, Tony received a phone call that changed his life. (Or, the one in which a group of remarkable people come together and balance battling villains and raising a child).

Harrowed Beginnings to a Familial Pack by Arminius461

Steve is the sweetest, gentlest alpha in existence, completely in control of his instincts. After a mission goes south, he's suddenly affected by an unknown substance, making his instincts rage. He needs to be with his omega and pup. The only problem is that Tony is out at Peter’s science fair, and Steve and Tony don’t have a pup of their own…

Baby, Just Say Yes by betheflame

In a world where Tony's life looks a lot like Taylor Swift's, Steve realizes there always more to omegas than meets the eye.

a fool for you by earliebirb

“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”

Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:

“Besides… they’re engaged.”

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

Humbugs and Heart by MountainRose

Tony's hurt, and there's only one place Jarvis knows he'll be safe. At least they have met the man, or this would be exceedingly awkward.

(It's not awkward, Steve would never make this awkward.)

For AngeNoir as part of the 2015 Captain America/Iron Man Holiday Exchange. I hope you like it, ;)

There's A History Between Us (and people think it's mine) by IamShadow21

A moment is all it takes to open up the box and confirm his suspicion.

“I think you're right, Cap,” Tony says. “This isn't my area.”

don't dream it's over by robertdowneyjjr

Steve thought they were happy. That their relationship was going strong, and they had forever ahead of them.

But apparently Tony thought otherwise.

There he was, like double cherry pie by Wolfsheart

Five times Tony comes into the bakery to flirt with Steve, and the one time Steve goes to the garage to flirt with Tony.

love can do some damage by parkrstark

Steve knew he was different since he was a little boy growing up with Bucky, and girls didn't make him feel the same way they made Bucky feel. There were only two people who ever knew: Bucky and his ma. And he planned to keep it that way. "They'll throw us in jail. If we're lucky."

Steve had heard horror stories of castration, life in jail, and even death.

"They won't throw me in jail for murdering thousands, but they'll throw us in jail for kissing? Seems kinda backwards." Tony leaned in for another kiss, and God did Steve want it. "'Sides. I know the Sheriff. He wouldn't throw us in jail."

Last Stop Before Malibu by justanotherrollingstony (adoctoraday)

Steve stands under the hot sun, hoping that the next trucker to roll in will bring him enough money to eat tonight, enough to save a little, to get out of this place and go somewhere new.

What he doesn't expect, is to meet a man who changes everything.

When Tony leaves, Steve follows and finds a place in his home, his bed, and maybe, his heart.

Nobody Panic, Everything's Fine by itsallAvengers

Steve doesn't get jealous. He doesn't. Honestly.

It's just...well- Tony's been spending an awful lot of time with a new employee. Who's smarter than him. And funnier. And more interesting and generally a better match for Tony than he ever would be.

But he's not jealous. Honestly.

Drawn to You by jellybeanforest

In a world where what one writes on one’s own skin appears on their soulmate’s body in exactly the same place until it’s washed off or fades, no one has ever responded to Steve’s questions written in pen.

Who are you?

Where are you?

And once, out of sheer desperation: Wer bist du?

He has tried writing up and down both arms then across his stomach in pictograms when he reckons that perhaps his soulmate is a double amputee and illiterate, but nothing. No response. He is uncertain why he is so surprised. Everything else about Steve is broken, so why not his soul?

But when he points the Valkyrie downwards to crash into the deep, knowing he is about to die, he spares a few precious seconds to scribble one last message to his possibly-nonexistent, potentially-blind soulmate.

Twenty-five years later, Tony Stark is born with a single phrase on his left forearm written in messy old-fashioned script. And as he grows up, the words never change:

“I love you”

It is both a blessing and a curse.

Remix of “the words written on our skin” by Cathalinaheart. For the 2020 Cap-IronMan Remix Madness.

Operation Spank Bank by fohatic

Tony really shouldn't be hacking into classified SHIELD files behind Steve's back. Steve is a SHIELD agent, now—as well as Tony's captain—and this sort of thing reflects badly on him. So why is there a locked file titled "Operation Spank Bank" on Tony's private OS? And why hasn't Steve been briefed about any such operation?

The file is password protected, but Steve has an eidetic memory and has seen Tony enter it, before -- it would serve Tony right if Steve were to 'hack the hacker' and learn for himself what "Operation Spank Bank" is all about...

There's an App for That by Annie D (scaramouche)

Thanks to the modern gig economy, Steve is the successful owner of a break-up service, i.e. people pay him to break up with their partners for them. One day, he gets the first break-up request for Tony Stark.

(what is hate) but jilted love by LemonGrenade

After a messy mission, Tony winds up injured and unfit for duty. To keep the press and anyone else overly interested in the current post-Accords Avengers unaware, Tony elects to hide from the public eye at his cabin in the Canadian wilderness. His plan is simple: lay low and work on his projects until he's recovered enough to make it back.

And then Steve shows up.

with a decent happiness by torigates

Tony Stark is Iron Man. Steve Rogers isn't, and never was Captain America.

Or, the one where everything is the same except Steve is a kindergarten teacher.

Star-joined Lovers by Ellster

Decades apart two boys are born with identical stars on their chests. As they find each other, their marks come into color.

In Our Arms by tinystark616

Having a threesome with Mark 42 was Tony's idea. Of course, he enjoys watching Steve with the suit more than he thought he would.

your heart breaks in my chest by deathsweetqueen

Steve Rogers was never more happy the day that his soulmark came in, but it led to nothing but disappointment and shame when his soulmate ignored everything he scribbled across his arm; as the years went by, the reason became unmistakable: why would his soulmate want a weak, wretched little thing like him?

Tony Stark was born bitter cold, like he was made of hailstone, and when his soulmark carved itself across his pulse point, he realised why; so, what is his life worth, what could it ever be worth, when his soulmate is dead and he would never have been worthy of him had he been alive anyway?

Patriarch by spqr

Steve ducks into the hall and comes back with a warm, freshly-laundered towel, which feels so good when he wraps it around Tony’s shoulders that he almost lets out a moan. “There we go,” Steve says. “Don’t want you to catch cold.”

“Thanks, daddy,” Tony quips, because he’s an idiot.

Except Steve’s close enough, his hands wrapped around Tony’s biceps through the towel, that Tony can feel his full-body shudder.

#tony stark #steve rogers #stony #stevetony weekly #stevetony #iron man #captain america #stevetony fic #stony fic #fic rec

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Prank Wars

Summary: Prank wars. You just hate them.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader x Alpha!Sam Winchester

Warnings: language, fun, crack, pranks, a/b/o dynamics, implied polyamory, scenting, cuddling & snuggling

A/N: Consider this nonsense.

Divider @firefly-graphics

“What the fuck!” Sam exclaims loudly. He flings the book he just read across the table, cursing loudly. “Dean! That’s not funny.”

“It was damn funny,” Dean snickers as his brother gets up from his chair. “You are trembling, Sammy.” The hunter snorts. “Payback for the salt in my beer.”

“You put a picture of a clown into my book! You glued it to the pages,” the younger brother mutters. “You know I hate clowns.”

“You are scared of clowns,” Dean corrects. “That’s a difference. I only wanted to pay you back. Remember, you started this with the spoon in my mouth.”

“Guys, not again,” you huff as the brothers are about to start another prank war. “How old are you? You are grown-ass men. Stop pulling pranks!”

“Sweetheart, stay out of this,” you roll your eyes. “You shouldn’t get involved in one of our infamous prank wars,” the hunter tuts. “You’re too sensitive and won’t survive our pranks.”

“I didn’t want to get involved in your shit show,” pursing your lips you point at the dent in the wall next to your favorite seat. “Last time you almost hit my head. You threw a fucking stone at me.”

“In my defense, I wanted to hit Sammy’s laptop,” Dean argues. As if it makes up for the dent in the wall and the fact that you almost peed your pants. “I didn’t want to hit you, Y/N.”

“You almost killed me with that stone, Dean. Your pranks always get out of hand, and someone will get hurt sooner or later,” you complain loudly. “Stop it right now.”

You slam your laptop shut and glare at Dean. “Sweetheart, we promise to keep you out of this,” he purrs. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“A clown,” Sam grunts. “You glued a clown to my book, Dean. That’s not funny! You ruined the book!”

“I bought a copy, Sammy. Your precious book is in my room,” Dean flashes his brother a smile. “I wouldn’t dare to ruin one of the million books at the bunker.”

While the brothers start to bicker again, you grab your laptop and silently leave the library.

You’ll be damned if you get involved in their nonsense this time.

“Y-ou put hair remover into my shower gel,” Sam growls. “My chest is smooth, Dean. SMOOTH! You know Y/N will get mad! She’ll call me dolphin chest again!”

Dean only snickers. After Sam put laxatives into his coffee, he’s out for blood.

“Well then, she will snuggle into my chest, Sammy.”

“Dean! What did you do this time?” you stare at Sam’s naked chest. “Where is all the fluff?” you wildly gesture toward Sam’s hairless chest. “How dare you put your hands on his fluff!”

“Sweetheart, I still got a hairy chest—” Dean takes off his shirt to reveal his chest to you. “See, I got it all. Let’s cuddle and forget about Sammy’s smooth chest.”

“Hey! I’m still talking to you, Dean. You ruined my chest,” you cock a brow as Sam snarls in his brother’s direction. They are about to fight for real.

“You ruined shower sex for me and Y/N! I didn’t make it out of the bathroom for the whole day. I had to—” Dean huffs, “poop all day!”

“Ah, good times,” Sam nods knowingly. “I’ll do it again. Maybe I put some more in this time…”

“That is enough!” you snap at Sam. “This is over. If you ever want to get your knot inside of me, or even scent me, you will stop this shit right now.”

“What?” the brothers say in unison. “Baby! Sweetheart!”

“I’ll be waiting in our bedroom,” you batt your eyelashes. “If the two of you want to make up, and make things up to me, come to our room and promise to stop this war.”

You storm off, not looking back at your alphas.

“Uh-I wanna touch our omega,” Dean swallows thickly. He looks at his brother, brows furrowed.

“Armistice?” Sam offers.

“Armistice,” Dean agrees.

“Now we only need to decide who’ll be allowed to scent her first,” Sam grins. “How about a round of rock, paper, scissors…”

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #sam winchester #Prank Wars #sam x reader x dean #dean x reader x sam #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader

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