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most-creature-vibe-tournament · 3 months

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FINALS!!!

Propaganda:

Taylor Hebert (Worm (webserial by Wildbow))

Human girl who has superpowers that let her control bugs. She shunts all emotions off into her swarm of bugs, leaving her totally blank and stoic. She outsources sensory-input to her bugs, so she never looks or reacts to anything. In a fight, she reacts to opponents there is no possible way she could see, because she sensed them with her bugs. Overall has virtually no facial tells and moves in a way that makes her seem like she isn't a person. very creature <3 she is just a bug girl

shes such a FREAK. shes completely human (tho with an eldritch alien creature extradimensionally attached to her mind) but God does she not act like it sometimes. she has the superpower to control bugs and uses it to become the worlds most terrifying hero slash villain slash warlord slash apocalyptic threat. she has her bugs crawling all over her all the time. she uses a swarm of flies to scout out areas and then leaves flies in everybodys hair so she can keep track of where they are. she practiced having her bugs make noises until she figured out how to combine their noises into human speech so now she can talk through her swarm. she makes decoys of herself out of large pillars of bugs. once she was concussed and in the hospital and subconsciously calling her bugs to her so she was just covered in insects while the doctor tried to help her. then there was ANOTHER time she was hospitalized and got bored so she made a bunch of bugs so a little dance on her chest. whenever she's in costume and talking she has her bugs make noises to distort her voice and make her sound more scary and she doesnt even realize shes doing it anymore. she surrounds herself in a swarm to disorient her enemies. she doesn't even notice when her hair covers her eyes or anything like that because shes scouting out the area using her bugs so she doesnt have to see. she once used a tide of bugs to clean herself off and dust off her dress after having sex.

#she views herself as more of a swarm of bugs with a girl-shaped computer to control them than a girl herself#her body is just an extension of her bugs which is large and inconvenient but ultimately part of the weapon

#taylor “dissociates into bugs” hebert#taylor “keeps bugs in her hair” hebert#taylor “choke them with bugs” hebert#taylor “no one could ever love me” hebert#taylor “violence is always the answer” hebert

#normally i would want a worm character to win#but#bdubs is a strange little man. he's unusual.#Taylor's just got the 'tism.

she literally is a walking superorganism comprised of one human and a lot more bugs to the point where she frequently moves her head as if she can see through walls (with her bugs, she can), talks through her bugs, has been described like a corpse whose ghost is living on in her swarm, keeps functioning thru her bugs even when her human body is out for the count, et cetera. no disrespect intended but genuinely what in the world are you talking about. She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs. And she thinks it's normal. Because the bugs are part of her. Is this thing on. I reiterate that she literally requires an emotional support cloak of bugs. She is so dissociated from being an actual person that she treats her human body like an inconvenience and her bugs like the primary operators. Is This Thing On.

#now i told myself i wouldnt comment anything on the rb... but#“She cleans her pussy off with bugs after fucking. Her pussy. With bugs.” CHAT IS THAT FUCKIN REAL??? IS THAT CANON???#cause if thats just a hc thats wild and i dont know if its better or worse if its canon#propaganda

this is indeed canon! there is a scene where, after fucking her boyfriend in an abandoned building, she stands up and cleans dust/etc off her naked ass body by having her bugs run across her and clean her, which presumably translates to "they are eating the dirt/sweat/etc off her." her boyfriend smiles affectionately at this, because he also has something wrong with him. she also does things like use bugs and spider silk to deliver her toothbrush straight to her hand in the morning while monologuing about "checking in on her hive" (her hive is the people in her villain territory.) she is a walking panopticon. her friends sometimes talk to bugs under the assumption it's taylor watching them and they're always right. at one point she confusedly asks someone if he's arachnophobic because he doesn't want her 10k black widow spiders to live in his apartment with him. she is basically like if a cockroach was a girl. I would never lie to you about Taylor Hebert, Unsung Champion of Polls About Weird Characters.

#taylor ofc#wait hey those are my tags as propaganda!! cool!#i stand by it#anyways yeah one of her main character traits when looked at by an outside perspective is just how WEIRD she is#everyone thinks she's a freak#even when you're reading her POV you sometimes have to stop and be like 'hey girl what the fuck'#one time she put bugs on her boyfriend's dick

She also turns into a bug monster at one point. Not all on her own, but she very much turns into a bug monster. Literally And Physically.

And she uses this to survive like a cockroach, she had Just Been Ripped In Fucking Half and thrown in the ocean to die and BOOM. bug monster transformation (with a little help) climb out and keep fighting, against an opponent so vast and powerful a human couldn't even comprehend his true form (not eldritch cognitohazard, just planet-sized + multidimensional), who could kill her in an instant. She's always surviving against the odds she's so cockroach coded (affectionate!) #@ pollrunner if you're still accepting propaganda please take the 'turns into a bug monster' as propaganda#the rest can be ignored or trimmed to 'she's always surviving she's so cockroach coded' but pleamse. the Time she Became A Bug

#she's such a freak!!!#she kills like it's the only thing she was built how to do#she kills people and things like it's chess and she's a grandmaster#as soon as the violence is off she's just a fucked up offputting little one woman panopticon

One of my favourite descriptions of Taylor from someone else's POV, from Interlude 14.

“A figure stood behind Yan. Her costume was barely recognizable—She wore a short cape of tattered black cloth over her body armor, a skintight black suit beneath that, and there were folds of black cloth draped around her legs like a dress or a robe. The entire fabric seemed to ripple and move. It took Sierra a second to realize it was crawling with a carpet of insects.”

“The disconcerting part was the girl’s face, or lack thereof. Her expression was masked behind a shifting mass of bugs that moved in and out of her hairline. Sierra couldn’t even tell where the bugs ended and the scalp began, as the small black bodies crawled into and onto the black curls. There was a hint of something like glass where Skitter’s eyes were, but the bugs ventured far enough over her eyelids and around the frames that nothing was visible in the way of goggles, glasses or skin.”

“Skitter hadn’t made a sound as she entered. She hadn’t spoken, and her footsteps had been quiet.”

#taylor “driving while blind wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be” hebert#taylor “hangs out in superpowered darkness for a long time without being at all worried” hebert#taylor “fools a near-perfect lie detecting hero by offloading her emotions on her bugs” hebert#taylor “figures out how to communicate with the Dog Autism girl like right away” hebert

#taylor hebert kill them with your self-sustained insectoid dehumanity!

Jonny d’Ville (The Mechanisms)

Since we’re not technically human

He’s so feral hes canonically committed every single crime theres a name for i think he deserves to have a tail that flicks around when hes being mischevous. perhaps some horns or fangs as well. as a treat

Idk why but he's a feral creature

Have you seen the man? Especially in that one picture where he is fully on the wall.

absolutely no canon implications that he isn't human, but that man* absolutely has a tail. and sharp teeth. and creature ears. he purrs but he pretends he doesn't and if you bring it up he'll bite you. he's had rabies more times than you can count.

#Just sayin#Johnny eats people and says it's not cannibalism if you aren't human

#DID LYF SING THE PART IN SLEEPING BEAUTY? NO. VOTE JONNY

#Jonny’s a creature#vote Jonny

#sorry for that Hermitfans but my boy Jonny is feral and i think he is a creature

#chat vote jonny#HES LITERALLY JUST A LITTLE CRITTER PLEASE

#look at that face#he’s a creacher

#it's jonny d'ville i don't have any more to say

All crimes but sex crimes, because Jonny isn’t a MONSTER

#JONNY#i'm so sorry pearl you are too well adjusted for this#he's got devil in his name#(that he gave himself because he's a huge fucking nerd)

#LITERALLY LOOK AT HIM THE GREMLIN ENERGY IS OFF THE CHARTS

#voted jonny for the rabies

also. hold up. the pearl propaganda is saying to vote for her because she's an alien and a bloodthirsty fighter? BOY DO I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU ABOUT JONNY FUCKING D'VILLE

five am pearl this five am pearl that, jonny's just like that all the time

#please vote jonny. i know we're pitting two bad bitches against each other but jonny has tried to eat a guitar

#CMON GUYS VOTE JONNY D’VILLE HES SUCH A CREATURE#HAVE YOU SEEN HIM??? HAVE YOU HEARD HIM TALK ABOUT THE OCTOKITTENS???#VOTE JONNY

#Jonny is such a creature

#jonny is literally THE creature

#come on vote Jonny that thing is creachur incarnate#and he can sing#his fave food is human flesh and more violence

Jonny man entire existence is teeth claws belts and trauma

#that guy is so feral#just vote jonny#also there was this one time where he found a half dead dude on the moon and brang it home to show to his gay pirate friends#just sayin#and also this harmonica solo over his father's dead body in one eyed jacks#iconic#anyway vote jonny

#literally jonny bites people and eats them regularly

#taylor hebert #worm web serial #jonny d'ville #the mechanisms #final round #tumblr polls #polls #creatures fight!

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thedecoy-if · 1 year

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It occurs to you just then, the true depth of your helplessness: you've been taken to another universe, alone with no way home, you're stuck prisoner, your phone has no signal...and they don't even know what Wi-Fi is. Yeah. You're screwed.

DEMO (3/04/2023) ♔ FORUM POST ♔ ARTBREEDERS

♔ The Decoy is a dark fantasy that follows you, a 21st century normal human, kidnapped to an alternate magical universe to play the part of the missing heir to a powerful throne...who also happens to be your doppelgänger. ♔

Life, for the most part, has been all-around uneventful. You work in Manhattan at a convenience store under a sleazy boss in order to scrape by and support your struggling family. Your dad is absent, your mom is too tired to parent, one brother is getting arrested while the other has detached himself from the life he once had. Still, while your days as a twenty-something employee are mundane, at least they're predictable.

Meanwhile, in another realm, the magical dark world of Eterna is in ruin. A war against an entity and his bloodthirsty creatures is brewing, and after the powerful royal family is viciously murdered and the only living child--and now rightful owner of the throne--goes missing, that evil is one step closer to winning.

But of course, that's not your problem. That's in a whole other universe, one you don't even know exists. Your biggest worry is whether you'll be able to take on a double shift tomorrow. Right?

Wrong.

Turns out the missing heir is your doppelganger. In a desperate attempt to save face and stop from losing a war before it even starts, you're kidnapped and taken to Eterna in order to play the part of the monarch, all while working behind the (bloody) scenes to find the true heir and get home.

Stuck in a world of magic and fantasy you've only ever seen in movies, an entire country--and an impending war-- is now dependent on how well you can act.

No pressure.

The Decoy is rated 18+ for dark themes, violence, and explicit content.

FEATURES

Customize your MC from gender identity, pronouns, personality, and appearance.

Choose whether to adapt to this new world or reject it, whether to be defiant or not. Pick what kind of monarch you'll lead as and take full advantage of your new royal identity.

Build yourself up in this new world, focus on honing combat or knowledge of the realm, choose a preferred choice of weapon and more.

Romance one of eight ROs (two male, two female, one nonbinary, three gender selectable) with a variety of backgrounds and magical types. Some more dangerous than others.

Maybe teach your new makeshift gang what television is? Hopefully find some signal for your phone? (not going to happen).

CHARACTERS + ROs

SERIDA/SOREN/SAHAR CRETILLON (m/f/nb , identity dependent on player choice ): the successor to the throne and only living person left in the Cretillon line, S has gone missing not long after the slaughter that murdered their entire family. People have been waiting for them to be coronated in order to plan their next move, but they're now gone without a trace and without them and the power that binds them together, Eterna is vulnerable. That's where you come in.

AZRIEL DAMARIS [RO] (m, he/him): once S's primary royal guard, Azriel has been promoted as the general of the Eternan army and head of the operation to save S. Stiff, serious, and severe, Azriel is tasked with being guard and guiding you through the world of politics and royalty. Unfortunately, Azriel doesn't want you here and he doesn't do much to hide it.

NAMARA AL-LUVEN: [RO] (f, she/her) Azriel's second, Namara is a fierce warrior and loyal to the cause. She's quite difficult to read, distant considering who you are.

DRENWIN SILVA: [RO](m, he/him): a skilled Mage and jester, Drenwin works alongside the Eternan army and puts his skills to work. He seems to be the most approachable of the bunch, which isn't saying much.

VALE: [RO](nb, they/them) the boisterous, flirtatious and arrogant mercenary turned pirate captain of The Lady Mystica. Vale exists simply to make and spend as much coin as possible while engaging in their harem and abundance of bad habits.

CERIS BESILLE [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him, they/them): a priest-in-training, Ceris is fiercely devoted to their beliefs. Reserved and easily scandalized, they haven't left their quarters in the church since they were twelve, contributing to their lack of outside experience and rather insular outlook on the world.

TALEEA FAREWYN [RO] - (she/her) A half-fae Healer, Taleea follows alongside you as your right hand. She seems to be the only one empathetic to your circumstances, but it's hard to trust anyone in this world, especially someone who is so keen on being...nice.

ARWEN/ARYA VALARIN: [RO] (selectable, she/her, he/him): A Valarin is S's childhood friend and their arranged betrothed. A has been S's other half since they were kids, which means you need to be extra careful around them. They have no idea you're not S and judging from your orders, it's better they never find out.

????? [RO?] (gender selectable) -- They are actively hunting you.

#interact-if #interactive fiction #interactive novel #interactive fiction wip #choice script #choicescript #choice of games #interactive game #text based game #wip #COG

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fandom-imagines-stories · 2 months

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Running in the Dark

Matt Murdock x Reader

Words: 4139

Summary: The reader’s work as a decoy for one of Matt’s clients puts her in some hot water with her boyfriend- as well as a jealous ex-husband who has connections more dangerous than anyone could have imagined.

Notes: This one honestly came about when I was walking around my campus at night. I literally pictured Matt watching over me from the top of the Humanities building. Yes, I am doing fine, how are you?

Warnings: Violence, general peril (I just love making the reader get herself into trouble, don’t I?)

More Matt Murdock: HERE

You knew he was there. Your eyes scanned the rooftops of the buildings enclosing you. Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel him. Standing. Watching. Waiting. You could practically hear his frustrated pacing, his furious objections.

“This is a bad idea. There are other ways. Safer ways. You don’t need to do this.”

All things he had said before tonight.

But this was about more than just playing decoy so a woman could be free of her abusive ex-husband.

This was about what that piece of shit could do for them.

You may not have been able to hear him, but you knew he could hear you. So, as you pulled Nancy Bartman’s door closed and your hood further over your face- careful to let your hair show- you muttered up at the figure hiding in the shadows.

“Back. Off.”

Your phone buzzed in your pocket. You ignored it.

Jogging at night in Hell’s Kitchen alone was a risk all on its own. Every alley you passed seemed to lurk with some unseen threat. Every shifting sound put you on edge.

God, you were turning into Matt.

You turned the corner to the street where Detective Morrow was waiting in a dark Sudan. If this didn’t work, everything could go back to square one. They had to catch this guy. You had to catch this guy. He knew something. Nancy wouldn’t say what, but you could tell she was holding something back. Bartman was the key. You could just feel it.

The Sudan crept forward, keeping far enough away to not look suspicious, but close enough to give you a crumb of comfort.

You could do this.

“Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Says the one who misses date night to go after crime bosses.”

You couldn’t wait to see the look on Matt’s face when this was over. His mild annoyance of being wrong overshadowed by pride. Proud that his girlfriend had made a difference. That you had not only helped a woman in need but also got them one step closer to catching the bigger villain here. Fisk.

You could do this.

A hand pulled you into the alley.

“Did you think it would be this easy, Nance?” Corey Bartman hissed into your ear, pinning you against the brick. “Did you think you could just leave me like that?”

You lifted your head, letting your hood fall back. “You’re never going to hurt your wife again, Corey,” you spat.

The man’s eyes widened, then filled with rage. “Why you little bitch-”

You heard the flick of a switchblade.

“Corey Bartman, you’re under arrest!” Detective Morrow’s boomed.

Corey flipped you around, arm across your chest, and switchblade at your throat. Morrow raised her gun, as did the other cops.

No no no, you needed him alive.

“Drop the knife, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow ordered. “This is not how you want this to end.”

“Don’t be stupid, Corey,” you muttered, trying to swallow without cutting yourself. You lowered your voice to a whisper, your words meant for a different presence. You could feel him, looming from one of the above rooftops. If Corey went any further, he would reveal himself and that would be a whole other problem. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“What did you say to me?” Corey snapped, tugging you closer. The blade dug just enough into your neck to break skin. You winced.

Matt would smell the blood.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you said again, hoping he would listen.

“You can come back from this, Mr. Bartman,” Morrow said. She stepped closer, eyes meeting yours. “But not if you hurt her.”

You gave her a small nod, feeling the blood drip down your neck.

Bartman gripped you, his hot breath on your ear. “This isn’t over.”

He let you go.

You couldn’t help the sigh of relief, pushing yourself away from him as Morrow pushed him against the wall and cuffed him.

“You okay, Y/L/N?” She asked. “Theo, call a bus!”

“No, I’m fine,” you said. “Really. It’s just a scratch.”

She handed Morrow off to another officer to put him in the car. “Are you sure? That looks like it hurts.”

“Nothing a little whiskey won’t help,” you smirked.

“Yeah well, go get yourself a drink then.” She gave you a smile and put a hand on your shoulder. “You earned it.” She started to walk away, turning back. “I expect you bright and early at the station to give a statement though.”

You gave her a mock salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Morrow joined the rest of her team. You sagged back against the wall.

“I know you’re there,” you breathed out.

A gloved hand pulled you further into the alley, out of sight from the others. The hand lifted to your neck, just below your new wound.

“He hurt you,” Matt growled. His other hand held onto your arm, holding you to him. “Morrow shouldn’t have let it get that far. He could have…” Matt trailed off. What if Bartman had done worse? What if he didn’t have time to stop him?

“Hey,” you said softly, laying your own hand on his cheek, feeling the fabric of the mask under your fingers. “I’m okay.” You checked to make sure no one was coming, then brought his lips down to yours. When you pulled back again, you were smiling. “We got him.”

Matt couldn’t help but return your grin. “You got him.”

“I told you I would.” You poked his chest teasingly. “It was unwise to doubt me.”

“I never said I doubted you.”

“It was heavily implied,” you laughed, making yourself wince from the sting in your neck.

Matt’s expression softened under his mask. “Come on. We should get that cleaned.”

You didn’t argue this time, letting him lead you back home.

It had been a long night for both of you. By the time you got back to Matt’s apartment, exhaustion sagged in your shoulders and weighed in his steps. You breathed in the familiar air like you were drinking water in the desert. Matt’s hand found the small of your back, guiding you to the couch while he grabbed his first aid kit.

“Really, Matt, it’s just a scratch,” you insisted.

He didn’t listen, finding a cloth to dab at the now-drying blood on your neck. You winced a little, the alcohol stinging the open cut.

Neither of you said anything. The silence hurt more than the cut did.

“I know you’re upset,” you started softly. “But I told Nancy I would help to keep her safe. Now, she is.”

Matt stayed quiet, putting the kit away.

“Matt, please. I knew what I was doing.” You reached for him, fingers grazing his arm. “And I knew you were there, watching over me. I knew that I was safe.”

In one quick motion, Matt pulled you into his arms. It almost felt like he was shaking.

“Don’t scare me like that again,” he whispered into your hair. “Please.”

You sat, shocked for a second. Then, you wrapped your arms around him, running a soothing hand up his back.

“I’ll try my best,” you teased, pulling away to look into those perfect dark, unfocused eyes. “I’m okay, Matty.”

Matt’s hands cupped your face, gently bringing your lips to his as if to remind himself you were here. You weren’t hurt, not too badly anyway. He hadn’t lost you. You were here.

“I’m okay,” you said again against his lips.

Matt pulled you into his lap, your legs on either side of his hips.

“We should get some rest,” he murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I’ve got a big day tomorrow thanks to you.”

You bit your lip to contain your giggling. “You’re welcome.”

Matt’s hand found the back of your head, tangling his fingers in your hair.

You leaned into his touch. “You’re right, though.” You pulled away from him, smirking. “We really should get some sleep.”

His head fell back against the couch, a deep chuckle rumbling from his chest. Matt listened as the zipper of your sweatshirt, the fabric brushing over your skin as you took it off, walking toward the bedroom.

“Are you coming or not?” You asked.

In a blink, Matt was on his feet and following.

Tangled limbs, sweat-stained sheets, and the memory of sighs filling the space enveloped you as you fell asleep. Matt kept his arms around you, as if afraid you’d run off and do something stupid. Not that sneaking out was ever an option with him. The problem with dating someone with enhanced senses. An overprotective someone who didn’t like it when you did your job because it occasionally put you in dangerous situations. Dangerous situations that you were perfectly capable of getting yourself out of.

These were the thoughts running through your head as you stared up at the ceiling, Matt’s head against your stomach, his arms draped around your waist.

Then, Bartman crept into your mind. And with him, came Fisk.

Fisk.

Bartman could have papers, maybe even whole files tying him to Fisk’s operation. But they would be at his apartment. The apartment that now lay empty with its inhabitant locked up. But Fisk would send someone… if he hadn’t already.

You sat up slowly, trying to keep from moving Matt’s arm too much.

If you could get to the apartment first, if you could find something, anything that could incriminate Fisk, you could wrap this up tonight. In and out under the cover of dark. Easy.

“Where are you going?”

You flinched. Maybe not so easy.

Matt sat up beside you, kissing your shoulder. “Hmm?”

“My apartment?” God, even if he didn’t hear your heartbeat, that was unconvincing. You started to stand, but Matt gently grabbed your arm.

“You want to go over there,” he said softly.

You sighed. “There’s a lot of information just ripe for the taking.”

“So breaking and entering, theft, and pissing off a guy who beats his tenants into leaving is your plan?”

“Well, I think we’re well past the pissing him off stage,” you said.

Matt frowned.

“All the more reason you need to stay here.” He moved closer to you, but you stood up. If he held you, you would let him. And you needed to work.

“I can’t just let this lie, Matt. He hurt people. Innocent families. And he did it all for Fisk.” You ran a hand through your hair, gathering and putting your clothes back on. “We have a chance to take them both down.”

Matt stood as well, putting his hands on your arms. “You’ve done enough. You helped them catch Bartman. Let the detective do the rest.”

You pushed him away. “You mean let you do the rest.” You crossed your arms, keeping just out of his reach. “You don’t get to lecture me about being safe when you go out there and do the exact same thing.”

“Because I know how to take care of myself, Y/N,” Matt fired back. “You go out there, unarmed and unprepared and you might as well be digging your own-”

“I am not helpless!” You screamed, cutting him off. “I don’t need protection, I don’t need to be coddled, and I don’t need you.”

As soon as you said the words, you felt them sink in, watching Matt’s face fall. He took a breath, squared back his shoulders, and his features hardened again.

“Fine,” he said, concerningly calm.

You were shaking from the raging mix of emotions inside you and it infuriated you to know that he could tell. He knew every tick, every clue to how you worked. And you knew so little about him.

“Fine,” you snapped. You turned, grabbing your keys.

“Y/N, wait-” Matt started, his voice tinged with worry.

But you were already gone.

The sun hadn’t yet risen and the streetlights gave the world a menacing, muted yellow glow. You walked with your arms crossed over your chest, hands tucked under your arms to ward off the cold, and your sweatshirt hood pulled up. You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were being followed and it made you shiver more than the early morning air.

“I swear to god, Matt,” you muttered to yourself, but, of course, there was no answer. You kept walking, head down and eyes searching. It wasn’t hard to find Bartman’s apartment again. You’d gone over it so many times with the detective that it felt like you’d been there a million times, even if you had never set foot inside.

You went down the list, pressing each buzzer until someone let you in. It surprised you a little. After everything Bartman had put his tenants through, you expected them to be a little more cautious of who they let in. Maybe they didn’t have the energy to care anymore. After all, if the evil comes from within, what outside could be worse?

Going up the stairs, that creeping sense that made your hair stand on edge never went away. It was like someone was following right behind you, breathing down your neck. This wasn’t Matt. That was for sure. When he followed you, leaping from rooftop to rooftop, you knew it was to keep you safe. It wasn’t overbearing or dark. As annoying as it was sometimes that he didn’t trust you could take care of yourself, you always felt warmth in his presence. Like nothing could happen to you.

This feeling wanted to hurt you. It wanted you scared. It wanted you to run.

You picked the lock to Bartman’s apartment quickly and slipped inside.

Everything was dark and the heater rattled and sputtered, doing little to warm up the frigid room. Many of the light fixtures lacked bulbs, probably to save on electricity. He was cheap with his building, so you weren’t entirely surprised to find he skimped on his own living situation. Besides, Fisk probably promised him a palace compared to this place.

You turned on the flashlight on your phone and swept over the various, disgusting surfaces. You didn’t want to know what most of the stains on the tables and counters and floors were. When Fisk found men to do his dirty work, they certainly were dirty.

Through the mess, you found what looked like it could have been a desk in another, cleaner life, and started going through the drawers. All you needed was something, anything that could connect Fisk’s companies and accounts to Bartman. Even if it was just a simple check, it could be enough for a warrant or at least an investigation into Fisk.

As you rummaged around, the door clicked open and shut behind you.

“I was hoping I’d get to see you again.”

Your shoulders tensed. Your hand slowly reached for the taser in your pocket.

“It was a clever trick, you know.” Bartman stepped toward you, flicking on one of the lamps that retained their bulb. “You look like her.” He took another step. “You’ve got that same bitchiness when you walk. Like you’re better than everyone. Better than me.” He ran a thumb across his bottom lip. “Still… you just happen to be my type, sweetheart.”

“Stay away from me, Mr. Bartman.”

“You pretended to be my wife, you can at least call me by my first name.” He held out his hand with a mocking grin. “Jerry Bartman. I would say it’s a pleasure, but it won’t be for you.”

You backed away, but your back hit the desk behind you.

There was nowhere to run.

Shit.

“Who made your bail, Mr. Bartman?” You asked pointedly.

He just chuckled, looming over you. “I’ve got friends in high places, little girl.” His eyes fell behind you to an envelope sticking out of the bottom drawer.

Bingo.

“Thank you,” you said, regaining a little of your confidence. “For being such an idiot.”

You jammed the taser into his side, listening to it crackle against his flesh. He yelped and stumbled backward, giving you enough time to grab the envelope and dart for the door.

His hand caught your ankle first, yanking you to the hard, uncarpeted floor. You landed on your right arm and felt something crack. Your scream was cut off by a kick to your stomach.

“You…. little… bitch…” Bartman gasped out, holding his side with one hand and pulling back for another hit with the other.

The door opened.

Bartman looked up.

The shot.

The blood.

The body landed on top of you with crushing force, knocking the scream out of your lungs.

As the tears cleared from your vision, you saw the man standing over you, dressed in black, with an indifferent expression painting his features. You scrambled to push Bartman’s lifeless form off of you.

“Shame,” he said. He sounded bored. Like your life was little more than a nuisance he had to deal with. “And you’ve been so helpful getting him out of our way.”

He raised his gun.

Not knowing what else to do, you ran towards him, ramming into his ribs with your shoulder and making your arm scream from the secondary impact. He grunted and the second gunshot echoed through the apartment, finding its mark in the lamp bulb, shattering the only light in the apartment.

You were plunged back into darkness, but so was your attacker.

Remember what Matt taught you. Feel the air move. Listen to the smallest sounds. And never, ever let your guard down.

A stumbling step signaled you to the man’s swing, allowing you to dive out of the way before his fist could collide with your already sore ribs.

“What the hell?” He hissed. He reloaded his gun.

You kept low and moved quickly, holding your throbbing arm against your torso. Judging by the thundering steps and the sound of him stumbling into things, Bartman’s killer was completely blinded by the dark.

You ducked into the hallway and found it almost as dark as the room before. Someone had shut off the lights to the whole building. The only light was the EXIT sign at the end of the hall, tinting everything in a deep, menacing red. You could hear Mr. Trigger Happy still coming after you, and debated between your two escapes; down the stairs to hide on one of the lower floors, or out onto the faster fire escape, but left you exposed.

You ran to the red sign.

A quiet scream escaped your throat, a hand grabbing your arm and pulling you away from the exit. Your mouth was covered by a hand before you could scream again. Your back hit something firm behind you and an arm locked across your chest, holding you tightly.

“It’s okay, it’s okay it’s me,” Matt whispered, his breath hot against the back of your neck, breathing heavily like he’d run here. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

You whipped around, his arms wrapping around you, caging you safely in his embrace.

“Matt,” you gasped, voice low so only he would hear. “They killed him. Fisk. He sent someone. He killed Bartman.” You shook in his hold, turning your head to try and look down the dark hallway. “There has to be more of them. We need to get out of here before they come.”

Matt gently pushed you back, one hand firmly on your shoulder, the other gentle, softly tracing down your cheek. He could feel your heart racing, your broken bone scraping against itself, your cracked ribs creaking with every scared breath. Every sound only amplified in his chest.

“Where is he?” He growled, feeling his anger bubbling over.

“He isn’t important,” you said, a small smile breaking through your panic. You held up the envelope. “I think I found something. Bartman didn’t want me to find this and, clearly, this creep didn’t either.”

Matt shook his head, the black fabric of his mask molding to his hard expression.

“Did Fisk’s man see you?”

You swallowed.

Your silence was enough.

Matt moved you behind the wall, concealing you in a dark corner, and started back toward Bartman’s apartment.

“Stay here,” he said.

“Like hell,” you snapped. Tucking the envelope into your back waistband, you hurried after him.

Matt turned, jaw tensed and tone dangerous. “Get out of here, Y/N. Go home.”

“What, so you can beat the shit out of some guy who shot at me?” You put your good hand on your hip. “I’m not going to hide. I want to finish this. Nancy Bartman deserves to stop being afraid. We all do.”

Matt pushed you behind him.

You grimaced, the spreading pain in your arm worsened by the sudden movement.

“Really?” The hitman scoffed. “If I had known you’d be joining the party, I would have been quicker with the lady.” He smirked at you. “Friends in low places, huh?”

“Fisk has you,” you glowered, stepping out from behind Matt, “I have him.”

“Two birds-” He aimed at Matt’s head. “One stone.”

Matt moved like a bullet, knocking the man back, twisting his arm to an unnatural angle, and kicking the gun across the floor all in one fluid series of actions.

You didn’t waste time, picking up the gun and turning it on its former owner. Matt kept him on the ground, knee between his shoulder blades. You pressed the barrel against his temple.

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked.

“You know, if you wanted to get me going, you didn’t have to bring your friend.”

Matt dug his knee down.

The man cried out.

“Why did you kill Bartman?” You asked again, already knowing the answer.

The assassin glared up at you, his eyes glowing in the red light. “Loose end. Just like you.”

“Why does Fisk want this building?”

“He made a deal.”

“So you do work for Fisk?” You pressed the metal harder against his skin, a small victorious rush coursing through you enough to ignore the screaming in your arm.

He jerked suddenly, lunging for you.

Matt slammed the man’s head against the carpet once… twice… The man stopped moving, though you could see his chest rise and fall faintly.

“Did you hear that?” You exclaimed. “Of course, you heard it.”

Matt didn’t say anything. He just grunted as he got the man up, pulling him back to the apartment and laying him beside Bartman’s dead body.

“Call the police. I’ll make sure they find him here.”

You did as he asked, saying that you were a neighbor and heard all the noise. He called Claire so she could be at the apartment to treat your arm. Then, you followed Matt up the roof where he could listen for the police to come. He didn’t say a word to you the entire time.

You could feel the anger tensed up in his shoulders and it wasn’t from the fight. This was a different anger, one that wasn’t violent or loud or could be worked out by hitting something. This was anger that came from one thing: fear.

“I didn’t think they would come after him tonight,” you said softly, “let alone pay his bail and send him home.”

Matt’s covered face stayed turned away from you.

You took off the mask. “Matt, please.” With a hand on his cheek, you made him face you, staring into his beautiful, unstarring eyes. There were tears in them.

“When I heard the second gunshot…” He whispered, voice cracking.

A shot of guilt splintered through your chest.

But you weren’t going to back down.

“I know you think you are the only one who can face all of this, but you aren’t,” you said gently, but firmly. “You aren’t alone, Matt. We have to be partners if this is ever going to work.”

Matt sighed. He listened to your heartbeat, reminding himself that it was still beating. You had made it through, even if he thought he’d been too late. You did that. He slowly brought your lips up to his, careful not to move your arm too much.

When you both eventually pulled back, a small smirk spread across his face.

“You know, when you were standing there, gun against that guy's head, even I was a little intimidated,” he chuckled.

“Right? I can be a badass when I want to be,” you snickered, laying your head on his shoulder. You turned so you could see his face, lightly kissing his jaw. “We make a pretty good team. Maybe you should let me go out with you…”

Matt laughed, the sound turning less amused. “Don’t push it.”

He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and you held your injured arm in your lap as he held you. The two of you sat and waited for the sirens and lights to break through the dark of the night.

Hey look, I remembered the tag list this time!

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascall; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks; @kendahl0216; @yellowbubblewrap

#matt murdock #charlie cox #matt murdock x reader #daredevil imagines #daredevil #marvel #daredevil born again #daredevil netflix

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jinxquickfoot · 6 months

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So I've finally finished Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., and not only did I enjoy the last three seasons way more than I thought I would, but I was not prepared for how delightfully unhinged the show became. Some of my favourite plot points included:

The female protagonist has a long-lost sister with superpowers who becomes the key to the entire crew returning to their original timeline through the Quantum Realm. Said long-lost sister is not introduced or even hinted at until the last five episodes of the entire show.

Half of one season takes place in a dystopian 2091 where the young twenty-something scientist couple not only meet their grandson who is the same age as them but said grandson returns to the present, becomes a series regular, and calls them "Nana" and "Bobo" in some Once Upon A Time worthy family tree shenanigans. Oh he also gets stuck in the 80s and claims he wrote Don't You (Forget About Me)

Phil Coulson dies in Season 5 because in order to stop an evil AI -turned-human-turned evil because she got dumped by a small Scottish man he has to become Ghostrider. The entire season builds up to this in a way that makes it feel very much like the actor is stepping away from the show and retiring the character, only for them to cast Clarke Gregg as an evil deity from another dimension in Season 6 and as a Life Model Decoy that may as well just be Phil Coulson in Season 7

Patton Oswalt plays multiple identical characters who all work for SHIELD. This is never fully explained.

“Mata Hari Calamari”

The final season is a decade-hopping gimmick with matching genre episodes that beat WandaVision to the punch

One character is a robot anthropologist who just wants to be best friends with the same small Scottish man. He has canonically been trained to perform in alien brothels and eventually becomes a bartender in the Crazy Canoe in 1955. He is one of the absolute best parts of the show.

One plot line follows said same Scottish Man and robot anthropologist as they get stranded in outer space with their only way home being to gamble in an alien casino while their friends attempt to rescue them but accidentally take LSD instead

"I found that bluffing was much easier if you kill someone and take their skin."

Area 51 is canonically a SHIELD base

#agents of shield #spoilers #agents of shield spoilers #marvel #mcu #honestly this show isn't perfect but it was much stronger than I was anticipating #esp as CA:TWS literally blew up their premise before their first season was even finished

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writtenbynamu · 10 months

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Dickmatized

Myg X black reader

Tags/warnings: HAEGEUM! (Yoongi), mentions of human trafficking, talks of s/a (not by Yoongi, doesn’t actually happen), violence, degradation, rough, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), choking, daddy kink, perjury, reader is weak in the knees

Word count: 3.4k

Minors DNI

Your legs are crossed, right over left; back rigid as you try to maintain your composure. To anyone else in the room, your behaviour would have seemed normal. After all, women crossed their legs all the time out of habit or politeness. It was nothing out of the ordinary….or it wouldn’t have been if your legs had been crossed for any other reason that to quell the throb budding in your underwear.

You were better than this. You were a strong, independent woman. You were one of the two partners of Park & Min. A lawyer, a ridiculously good one at that; with one foot in the underground crime syndicate and the other on the necks of every prosecutor in Seoul. In this city, your name had to hold weight for you to survive…and yours was heavy enough to burden tongues. You made sure of it.

You had spent years getting your shit together, yet somehow, all it took was one look from him for you to fall apart.

You had first met Agust back when you were nothing but a decoy for the Itaewon dragons. The Itaewon dragons were one of the most feared gangs in Seoul, run by one of the most unassuming men you’d ever met. They sold everything from party drugs to cocaine to people. That’s where you had come in.

“Are you sure you want to do this noona?” The man before you asked as soon as the door shut. “You could get stabbed, or shot, or raped…oh my god this could end so fucking badly”

His teeth worried at his lip, the metal of his piercing hit against his teeth but he didn’t notice. He never did when he got anxious.

You tutted at him and walked over to where he stood. You looped a hand around his neck, urging him to look down at you and used your thumb to pull his bottom lip from between his teeth.

“Breathe Bun,” you said gently, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head into your shoulders. He took a deep breath, shuddering a bit when he exhaled.

“ I don’t want to do this noona, I don’t want any of this. I just want to go back to art school” he said with a whine, a petulant pout on his lips. You resisted the urge to coo at him.

“I know bun, but it’s only for a little while hm? Just until your hyung gets back right?”

“Mhm hm” he mumbled, not ready to lift his head from the comfort of your warmth.

“So just let Noona do this so you can get it out the way in time to finish your project hm?”

He sighed against you and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Time was going, but he needed the tactile comfort to ground him and so you let him have it for a few more minutes.

“Okay, now put your poker face on and let’s go do a drug heist Kook”

The plan was simple. You, Jungkook and the other dragons were supposed to meet up with some lackeys from D Town who had been interested enough in the “sexy foreigner” they had seen Jungkook parade around with to strike a deal with their mortal enemies. 15 kilos of pure white booger sugar for one night with you is what they offered.

It was insulting to think that they thought you had fallen for such a ruse.They knew that Seokjin wouldn’t have fallen for it, that’s why they waited until Jungkook had taken the reins. Jungkook might have been younger and less experienced, but he was no fool.

You would meet them and the specified location, demand a show of the product and then when they asked for you in return, the dragons would kill them and take the coke. It was foolproof, or at least it had been until the sky decided that it was the perfect time to burst and started to rain.

The dragons had the D town boys surrounded, guns drawn and pointed right at their heads. The sudden downpour had thrown everyone off-kilter and in the blink of an eye, you had found yourself with a knife to your throat and a gun pressed to your hip.

“LET HER GO YOU FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT”

Jungkook yelled over the clap of thunder that rolled overhead.

“ONE MORE STEP AND I KILL THE BITCH AND YOU” the man screamed.

Jungkook froze in his spot a glare on his face to conceal the dread he truly felt about the situation.

The man started backing away with you in tow only to freeze when he bumped into a hard chest. The smell of newports and the tiniest hint of…tangerine? Hit you both at the same time and you felt the man holding you start quivering.

“Having a bit of fun without me Jaehyuck?” came a low, deep voice; words gravely as if he hadn’t spoken all day.

“N-no Ag- n-no sir” he replied, hands trembling so much that he dropped the knife

“Really? Because it looks to me like you stole my product and tried to buy someone with it…” he spat.

The heel of his boots clicked on the paved rooftop as he circled the man holding you.

“What are my two rules Jaehyuck?” He asked, no demanded.

“N-never involve w-women and children s-sir”

“Now unless I’ve completely lost sight in my right eye and my left one has decided to start playing tricks on me… that’s a woman you’re holding…is it not?”

The man let go of you immediately, falling to his knees to plead with the man looking down at him with utter disgust.

You should have grabbed the coke and run over to Jungkook while they were both distracted, but you just couldn’t look away from your dark saviour.

You watched enthralled as he reached into the pocket of his coat, and you braced yourself for him to take out a gun of some sort; only to be confused when he pulled out a pair of red chopsticks instead.

The man seemed to recognize the utensils though, in fact, he seemed terrified of them.

“Beg for forgiveness.” Said the scarred man.

“I’m so s-sorry s-“

“Not from me you imbecile, from her”

To his credit, the man did beg for your forgiveness with so much sincerity and desperation that you almost felt sorry for him. But Scarface didn’t care. He used his chopstick on Jaehyuck in ways you had never seen before, ways you hadn’t known were possible. It should have scared you, but you had never felt more intrigued by a singular person in your entire life .

And when he was done, he held his chopsticks out so the rain could wash them off, bowed to you and offered you the coke as an apology (not that you weren’t going to take it either way) and turned to leave.

“Wait! What’s your name?” You asked, a bit winded from the adrenaline pumping through your veins

“Agust” he said “Agust D”

🥢🥢 🥢

“Agust” (as you came to know later)had been in the process of taking over the D- boys when you had your little run-in with them. He was keen on changing the way things worked in the gang, determined to make sure his rule was never questioned or contested. Killing Jaehyuck for not only undermining his authority but threatening to jeopardise the partnership he had been working to establish with the dragons through Jin was his first step in doing so.

Now, 5 years later, Agust had the largest cities in Korea, Seoul included, trembling under the weight of his thumb. He had long since created an alliance with the dragons and went on to take over when both Jin and Jungkook wanted out.

He owned almost everything and everyone. What were once periodic whispers of his name became incessant screams, loud enough that everyone knew it.

Still, very few people knew what Agust looked like. Sure they knew his name, knew who he was but he rarely showed his face in public, the threat of his existence was potent enough that he didn’t have to.

Still, in Seoul, walls could talk and they loved to gossip. And so everyone knew that “Agust D '' had a scar over his right eye and could kill people with his bare hands and a pair of chopsticks. August’s favourite part of his partial anonymity was the theories about how he got his scar. Some say he got it in an underground fight, others said he had been cut with glass in prison and the truly bold suggested that he had done it himself. They were all wrong, but they were fun to listen to.

When Agust did show his face, it was usually in a setting like you were in right now. A conference room full of lawyers being debriefed on his latest transgressions and how they would be expected to handle it, had he ever gotten caught.

The funny thing about Agust is that no matter who he bought or for how long he bought them, he never recruited a police officer or any member of the judiciary at all for that matter. He loved the rush he got from winning a trial simply because he had a good legal team; that he had you on his team. He liked knowing that he could win fair and square There was something so fascinating…so attractive about the way that you made an airtight case against the prosecution, how you played the jury like a puppet master in your… in his favour.

To this day, you had only lost once, a petty crime charge of aggravated assault for one of the boys. It should have rolled off your back because he, like almost everyone you represented, had been guilty. But there was something about the way Jisoo looked at you in that courtroom as if she knew she had won before the trial even began, as if she was better than you that fueled your thirst to be the best lawyer Seoul had ever seen, even if just out of pure spite.

🥢🥢🥢

There was something about the way Agust could command a room that made you feel hot all over. There was something about the way he spoke, calm, collected, controlled as if words were nothing but a nuisance to him and he had made them his bitch.

His presence filled any room no matter how big or small it was and his demeanour was enough to make even the most insolent of individuals sit with their backs straight. Fuck, he made you feel the need to sit straight.

You tried to pay attention as he spoke, but your mind could only focus on how his plump lips wrapped around his words. How his tongue darted out at intervals to wet his lips, how his fingers twirled the chopsticks he held between them as he paced the room. You couldn't help but stare at his hands, hands that had done unspeakable horrors to scores of people, hands that had dealt unspeakable pleasures to you.

You’ve officially zoned out. You hear no words, no shuffling of paper; your brain blocks out everything that isn’t Agust or your memories of him so much so that you don’t realise that the meeting is over until the heavy double doors bang shut. Almost instantaneously, the smell of cigarettes wafts towards you and you look up to see him standing beside you.

You swallow thickly.

“How was the meeting Y/N?” he asks you, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette.

“Good.” you lied “It was good.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “ So what do you think Dongshik’s chances are on that murder charge?”

You clear your throat. “ I have full confidence that Jimin can get the charges dropped or at the very least, get him out on bail” you reply carefully, praying you didn’t sound as unsure as you felt.

Agust chuckled before spinning you around in your chair to face him and leaning over you so that your faces were mere inches apart.

“Good try baby, but “Dongshik” is one of your paralegals, not one of the dragons. The only crime he’s committing is wearing that God-awful fake Dior cologne.”

Shit.

“What's got you so distracted, hm pretty girl?” he asked, running his left index finger along your jaw.

Your breath hitched. “N-nothing, I’m just a little tired,” you replied, clenching your thighs together.

Agust narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth forming a straight line. Unamused. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before he puts it on one of the ashtrays on the long table.

He looks you up and down, gazee burning against your skin as his eyes rake over you, arms crossed against his chest.

“You know better than to insult my intelligence like that don’t you Y/N?” he asks, clearly not expecting an answer.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him “ You think I couldn’t see you squirming? That I couldn't see you clench those thighs for all they’re worth?”

His eyes were intense, just like everything else about him was but you fought defiantly to maintain eye contact with him.

“ I did no such thing” you retorted, much to his displeasure. He scoffed.

“You’re such a brat you know that? Such a big fucking brat.” he said shaking his head. “Stand up.”

You don't move, much to his annoyance.

He takes a deep breath and brings his right hand down to your throat, not squeezing hard enough to hurt, but applying enough pressure to get your heart racing and to know how serious he was.

“I’ll say it again once. Stand. Up.”

You obey this time, looking up at him as you rise from your seat, hand still wrapped snugly around your neck.

He releases you once you’re completely upright on your feet and sits in your chair. He taps the space on the table in front of him and you take the hint and sit.

He runs his hands up and down the length of your thighs and your legs part almost on instinct. He gets a view of your underwear, the dark red in the centre from how wet you were and hisses.

“See why you shouldn’t lie to me, baby? Because no matter what you come up with in that pretty little head of yours, your body will always tell me the truth, hm?”

He hikes your pencil skirt up to your waist and pushes your thighs further apart and your body arches towards him on instinct. He brings his head down to kiss at the sensitive skin and you barely hold back a scream when he sinks his teeth into your soft flesh. He runs his tongue over the bite and you whine. He pulls away to look up at you

“What kind of behaviour is this hm? The big bad Y/N making such a mess on this table? Aren’t you a bit embarrassed to be reacting like this hm? Dripping all over me as if I didn’t fuck you senseless just yesterday.” he says bringing a hand to your core and pulling your underwear to the side.

You roll your hips forward and resist the urge to bring your hands to cover your face because he was right. He did fuck you senseless less than 24 hours ago, but Agust was more addictive than any combination of drugs he sold. He was toxic, mean…evil if you were to consider anything he did with your moral compass…but you needed him. He might have been cruel to everyone and everything else, but he was good, so, so good to your pussy.

He pushes a finger into you, the cool metal of his ring grazing against your walls. He adds another and your eyes roll back and your head falls back. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, your wetness making obscene noises as you clench around his digits. The pressure builds up in your pussy embarrassingly quickly and your orgasm is so close you can practically taste it. You roll your hips forward to meet every thrust of his fingers urging him to go faster. And of course, in the most Agsust fashion ever, he slows down.

He pulls his fingers out of you, your juices running down to his palm and he meets your eyes as he licks them both. The sight is obscene and incredibly hot and it sends you surging forward to put your lips on his.

The kiss is a desperate tangle of tongues and the occasional clashing of teeth. It's wet and messy and it makes every nerve ending in your body stand on edge. Your hand makes its way around his neck and you pull away from him.

“I need you to fuck me,” you say simply. Chest heaving against the silk of your blouse, three buttons somehow missing from the expensive top.

He glares up at you and rips your hand from his neck.

“I don't take fucking orders from you” he spits as he flips you over on the table, face down and ass towards him. “But I'll give it to you just this once, and only because I want to feel you cum on my dick”.

With that, he pulls your underwear down and pushes into you in one go, ripping a scream from your throat as your walls struggle to accommodate him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before he starts thrusting into you. His pace is rough and punishing and you can't help the moans that escape you.

“Youre so fucking tight every. Single. Time.” he groans, punctuating his sentence with his thrusts.

He grabs onto your braids, pulling your head back so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hips start moving impossibly faster, and you can do nothing but moan brokenly against his lips.

He brings his hand down to your clit and rubs it, and your eyes blow wide open and you scream.

“Yoongi please.” you beg.

His hips stuttered in shock.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Your eyes widen as you realise what had slipped out of your mouth. Agust had told you his real name years ago but you had never used it. Sure you had practised the way it felt on your tongue in secret but you had never felt brave enough to say it.

“I’m s-sorry,” you say in between moans

“Don’t apologize- fuck it sounds so good when you say it.” he moans out, picking his pace up once more “ Say it again.” he demands “ tell me who this pussy belongs to baby”

“YOONGI!” you scream, tears streaming freely down your face “ It’s all yours Yoongi please”

“That’s right. Thats fucking right” Yoongi replies. “I can feel you clenching around me, do you want to cum baby?”

“Fuck yes, Yoongi please let me cum” you begged.

Yoongi gives you one last particularly hard thrust and your entire body convulses as your orgasm washes over you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for daddy.” he guides you as he slows his thrusts down to barely their pace as you come apart around him.

His orgasm follows yours almost immediately and he spills into you, sending a combination of your juices running down your legs.

He runs his hand along your back as you go limp against him, recovering from your high and places a gentle kiss on your forehead and he pulls your underwear back up.

🥢🥢🥢

As rough as Yoongi is with you whenever you have sex, his gentleness after the fact always negates it.

As bad as Yoongi was for you, he simply made you feel too good.

Deep down, you knew Yoongi loved you in his own twisted way, and you loved him too. But neither of you was willing to admit that out loud. Instead, what existed between you was an unspoken agreement of ownership. You were Yoongi’s just as much as he was yours.

Of course, you saw something more with Yoongi than just fucking him, and it would b unfair to say that was all your relationship was.

Maybe you would've brought it up if you weren't so enthralled by him. If you weren’t so distracted every time he touched you.

Yoongi was everything you did not tolerate, and yet you tolerated him so well.

Yoongi was nothing but death, sex and bad vibes.

Maybe you were insane.

Or maybe you were just dickmatized.

#agustd #yoongi smut #bts x black girl #bts x black reader #bts smut #agust d smut #this is my first post please be nice #haegum #HAEGEUM Yoongi #Spotify

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aristhought · 1 year

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some of my fave crow facts

they stay in touch with their parents and relatives well into adulthood; they help raise future offspring by building and guarding nests, bringing food, and taking care of their younger siblings. those who leave have been known to return and visit their family visit years later.

roosts can have a literal pecking order, where older and more dominant crows will sleep at the top of trees/electrical lines etc, so you can sometimes tell where a crow is in the hierarchy by whether or not they have bird poop on them by the morning.

they have been known to build decoy nests to throw off predators (including humans) if they sense that they’re being watched while nest building. they’ll construct a fake one whilst actually building a real one elsewhere that they return to when they’re not being watched.

different crows have different “dialects” based on where they live, even if they’re the same species. crows can sound drastically different from region to region, as they learn their language based on where they were born and grew up.

they are songbirds, and apart from the distinct caw, they also make a wide variety of other sounds including whistles, chirps, barks, and clicks.

yes they can remember human faces and have a superb ability to recognize people they like/dislike, as well as pass on this information to other crows.

they are extremely intelligent problem solvers and have been known to, as one example, toss walnuts onto roads and wait for cars to run over and crack them open before retrieving them.

they love to play and can be incredibly mischievous, and will tug on the tails of much larger animals for no other reason other than for fun and to get a reaction.

they forage for food in little groups, where a few of them look for food whilst a couple of others will be perched higher up nearby to keep watch.

they host “funerals,” where huge numbers will gather around a dead crow, exchanging loud and alarmed caws.

they form deep and long lasting social bonds with other crows, not just their mates or direct family.

they can also form deep and lasting friendships with humans who are kind to them, which can last not only for their whole lifespan but also continue through their offspring.

#reposting this cus tumblr was glitching out when i made the first version #anyways...i love crows so much theyre one of my fave animals and prob top contender for all time favourite #crows #corvids #birds #biology #nature #j.exe

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jackles010378 · 25 days

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Demon Dean Jealous?

(Demon Dean/normal Dean Winchester X you)

When demon Dean overhears a familiar voice at the karaoke bar he's taken a liking too, his blood starts to boil. Is this the moment Sam and Cas have been waiting for to get Dean back to normal?

In the dimly lit corners of a bustling bar, demon Dean Winchester’s eyes glinted with a dangerous hue as he watched his girlfriend laugh with another man. The green-eyed monster of jealousy reared its ugly head, and a low growl escaped Dean’s lips. Unbeknownst to him, this was all part of a well-orchestrated plan.

Sam and Cas, hidden in the shadows, exchanged a knowing glance. The stranger was a friend, a decoy, luring Dean into the open. As Dean’s jealousy reached its peak, he stormed towards them, his demonic nature on full display. But before he could reach the pair, Sam and Cas sprang their trap.

A whirlwind of action ensued, and in the chaos, Dean was subdued. The next thing he knew, he was in the bunker, strapped to the chair that signified hope and salvation. Sam’s voice, laced with brotherly concern, broke through the haze, “Dean, we’re going to cure you. You’re going to be okay.”

As the ritual began, Dean’s demonic rage battled against the love for his family. It was a tumultuous fight, but as the purified blood was shooting through his veins, the demon’s hold began to wane. And in that moment, Dean realized the truth—the jealousy, the anger, it was all part of the demon. The real Dean, the human Dean, was still there, fighting to come back.

With each passing second, the demon’s grip loosened, and Dean’s humanity started to resurface. When the final vile of blood was injected, a serene calmness washed over him. His eyes, once a symbol of the demon within, returned to their human state.

Dean looked up at his brother and best friend, a weak but genuine smile gracing his lips. “you look worried fellas,” he whispered. The cure had worked, and Dean Winchester was back. Sam threw holy water in his face just be on the safe side, no reaction "welcome back Dean" Sammy said with a smile on his face.

Dean took a moment to gather his thoughts, his eyes softening as he looks at you, his girlfriend. Guilt washed over him as he remembers how he treated you. After Dean’s harrowing experience as a demon, he yearns to make amends with you. The darkness that consumed him has been lifted, and now he seeks redemption. His heart aches with remorse, and he longs to prove his love and loyalty.

Together, you both navigate the fragile balance between forgiveness and healing. Dean’s eyes hold a mixture of determination and vulnerability as he strives to rebuild what was shattered. He knows he can never fully erase the pain he caused, but he’s willing to fight for your trust.

Late nights find you both sitting on the Impala’s hood, sharing whispered confessions under the star-studded sky. Dean’s calloused fingers trace patterns on your palm, seeking solace in your touch. He recounts tales of battles fought, sacrifices made, and the darkness that threatened to consume him. But now, he’s determined to cherish every moment with you.

He surprises you with small gestures: a stolen kiss in the bunker’s library, a mixtape of classic rock songs that remind him of your laughter, and a single red rose left on your pillow. Dean’s love language is action, and he shows it through acts of service—fixing the broken coffee machine, cooking breakfast, and holding you close during thunderstorms.

As the sun sets, casting a warm glow over the Impala’s worn leather seats, Dean whispers promises against your lips. Promises of forever, of fighting side by side, and of creating a future beyond the supernatural battles. His eyes hold yours, and you see the vulnerability—the fear of losing you again.

But you, too, have scars. You’ve witnessed Dean’s darkest moments, and forgiveness doesn’t come easily. Yet, when he looks at you with those green eyes, filled with hope and remorse, you find yourself softening. Love is messy, complicated, and sometimes painful, but it’s also resilient.

So, you take Dean’s hand, intertwining your fingers, and lean your head against his shoulder. The Impala’s engine hums, a comforting lullaby. Together, you drive toward the horizon, leaving behind demons and regrets. Dean’s love is imperfect, but it’s yours—a promise etched into the fabric of your shared history.

And as the road stretches ahead, you both know that redemption isn’t about erasing the past; it’s about building a better future—one where love conquers darkness, and Dean Winchester fights not just for survival but for the chance to be worthy of your heart.

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