Leviathan HC! (ft. Collectionist!MC)

ⓘ You can Bite your Friends.

I like to think that one of the lessons Aizawa taught class A is "always have a knife".

You never know when you'll need a knife so never not be in possession of a knife. As such every member of class A has a knife hidden somewhere in their hero costumes. His gift to them when they graduated were custom engraved knives with their student number on them.

Not on board? Ok. Just imagine how funny it would be tho.

Villain: "Number one hero Deku! I am punch proof! The more you hit me the stronger I get! How will you defeat me now-"

Midoriya: "Knife."

Villain: "Wha-" *gets stabbed*

Midoriya: "Knife."

Hero: "Oh no! We're tied up! However will we escape!"

Tsuyu: "Knife."

Hero: "What?"

Tsuyu, pulling a knife off the bottom of her foot with her tongue: "Knife."

Groupie getting a hug: "Are you using your quirk or are you just happy to see me?"

Kirishima: "It's a knife."

Groupie: "...What?"

Kirishima: "Knife."

Villain, completely insulated in rubber: "You're a one trick pony chargebolt."

Kaminari, reaching down into his boot: "Oh boy are you wrong my dude!"

Hero: "You need to calm down."

Bakugou, reaching down into his V-neck: "Listen here you son of a BITCH-"

Hero: "WHY DO YOU HAVE A KNIFE!?"

Kouda: "Stop scaring the pigeons! They're a domesticated species that we abandoned back into the wild. They're sweet creatures who are pets by nature!"

Douchebag: "Or what?"

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "..."

Kouda: "..."

Douchebag: "oh my GOD HE HAS A KNIFE-"

There's the urban legend that some japanese companies will hire a "loud American." A person who is just there to voice complaints to the boss when others cant.

I had an idea today that alien ships might hire "The Human!" A person who is just there to just stand there and looks like the be the big, tough, indestructible threat of a being that the galaxy knows humans are.

Doesnt matter who the human is. Big or small, male or female, a tough soldier or more gentle than a newborn. They just have to be present and let the reputation of humans speak for itself.

Is the captain trying to enforce an unpopular regulation on the crew? Ask The Human to have a private meeting and voice the complaints.

Trying to sell some goods but the buyer wants to renegotiate the price to be more unfair to you? Ask The Human to be there at the negotiating table.

That jerk at the bar keeps pestering you with their mating display, because they want to be the one to fertilize your eggs wont take no for an answer? Ask The Human to escort you back to your quarters.

Not sure if the neighborhood where you're making the delivery is a safe one? Just ask that lovely human if they wouldnt mind putting down their crochet and coming with you. They might be extra thrilled if you mention they could take their pet with them, for a walk.

you're fucking a clown he's balls deep ready to cum and you tell him to pull out but his clown dick is comically long and it takes him a solid minute of yanking and coiling it like a rope to get it all out

Since Mammon's drawing got a lot of support, why not give you one of Levi's too?

Diavolo Facts!!:

- Diavolo hates pickles.

- Stated in a chat, Diavolo admits he find small animals cute. Surprisingly, this includes static spiders.

- He’s afraid of thrill rides as seen in Lesson 58(?) of Original OB and some chats.

- Diavolo shows a dislike to Great Witch Maddi who persisted in trying to marry him at one point.

- Diavolo loves exercise and states to enjoy cycling and running the most.

- Diavolo is a dog person.

- Diavolo’s favourite food is hellfire mushroom rolled cigar cookies, which Lucifer actually tries to recreate and fails horribly in a Devilgram.

- Diavolo has an insanely strong sixth sense on knowing if someone is lying or not.

—SPOILERS—

- Diavolo’s mother died after childbirth.

- Diavolo’s nervous and hesitant descriptions of his father suggest he had an unloving and distant childhood.

- Barbatos started to serve Diavolo ever since he was a child due to the fact the latter threatened to not become the next demon king if Barbatos didn’t accept.

- Diavolo strives to co-exist with other realms to ascertain he is a suitable heir to the throne, he wants to be better than his father.

made a gdocs OC sheet for Obey Me, since most of the templates I've seen are for artists and the doc templates are just simple txt files. as usual, it's meant to be for ppl like me who love to add a LOT of text <3

It's here if you'd like to use it! Remember to make your own copy -> File -> Make a copy!

Ben Drowned- Headcannons

Is around 19 years old

Games all day/night

Energy drink addicted (especially Monster)

Mostly wears sweatpants and shirts or hoodie

Has a green and black studded belt

Has stretched his ears to 20mm and his nose to 8mm

Also has a tongue piercing, and a conch

Has pierced Jeff

Is friends with Sally, Jeff, Toby, Clockwork

Is mostly eaten frozen foods…not even heating it up properly

Likes to play pranks (harmless)

chapter 1 - remembering hearts

In this day of age, being born a human was…well..rare. Since about a thousand years ago monsters and hybrid humans alike have existed. Leaving the human race to become nearly extinct. Which is where the government had decided to step in.. All over the world, governments globally came together to try to save the human kind. Kind of like a zoo. But without the whole…exhibit piece.. Humans would give birth here and take care of their children…when these children became adults, they got to decide if they chose to stay or to go.

Your parents had been a part of those people that decided to go out and try to make it with monsters and hybrids. Turns out, that life is harder than most people think. They had you. You had always been like your mother. Kind and smart-witted. But like your father, a grudge holder. World haters at times. When you were twelve, your parents were taking you out for dinner or ice cream or to somewhere. Your memories are fuzzy due to that trauma sadly.

A drunken monster or hybrid of some sorts crashed its good for nothing truck. Your parents being in the front of their smaller car, being gone with it as it got smashed horribly. You are in the back seat. Buckled. Which is what saved your life. Your legs on the other hand had been broken and beyond painfree.. You had been knocked out from the force.

When you had woken up in the hospital to see a social worker, a wonderful grizzly bear woman named lasswell. (thing about hybrids is that they look human apart from special parts of their features or bodies.)... mrs. lasswell, or kate as she had told you to call her if you preferred, had these fuzzy blondish bear ears with a buff looking stance for a woman.

She had been the only one there aside from the vampire police officer, (who was drinking an animal blood packet, seeming how they usually do in this world). She saw you wake up and had explained very slowly to you through your concussion of what had happened. And that you were out for nearly 2 weeks. You learned that you were paralyzed from the waist down by your doctor when he came in, (he was human- surprisingly!).

After about a month, you got into PT (physical therapy), which was a pain in the ass. You hated it with every cell in your body. It took you what felt like forever to get used to using a wheelchair. You hated moving from bed to chair, chair to bed. You hated that you would need help getting from bed to chair. Chair to toilet. Chair to bed. You hated the fact that now..you’re in foster care. Hybrid and monster children have a knack for being horribly awful to human children. Let alone the human race.

Now you’re seventeen and here you are rolling your ass to a door with your social worker, Kate lasswell. She had already told you the deal with this new home. Their ex-military men. Four of them. Three British. One scottish. Oh! And this is a hybrid-monster home.

no one respects the art of cock-warming quite like Price.

18+ | cock warming. exhibitionism.

he loves having his lil sub (whether you want to be or not) kneeling at his feet, his cock stuffed down your throat while he works, alternating between holding a cigar in his hand or a pen. the other on the back of your head, keeping you still. cradled his lap where you belong.

and he'd spend ages training you up for it, too.

starts by makingyou sit in his lap, letting you mewl and whine and pant in his ear about the stretch, the need. wanting him to just fuck you already and get it over with. but he's patient. let's you acclimate slowly until all he has to do is pat his thigh and you're already shoving your panties to the side, sliding down his thick girth as he turns on some movie you'd been chirping about wanting to see. squirming around for a moment until you find your spot before melting into his chest, breathing around the stretch. because at some point, having him inside of you, stuffing you full—cock, mouth, ass—comes as naturally as breathing, anyway.

but if you think this is a private endeavor only, well. you'd be wrong.

it starts small. his fingers inside of you when you're out at a restaurant with Laswell and her wife (who seems to sharing your expression; Kate's hand disappearing below the table), just sitting. teasing. he's not trying to get you off. it's just training. new horizons, love, he says, and it's just so easy to get swept up into the maelstrom of his desire, isn't it?

a movie after. it's boring. you hate it. so, he unzips his trousers and offers himself to you instead. let's you thumb through your feed (phone on silent, brightness down to zero) in the back of the theatre as you lounge across the chairs in the empty room, his cock down your throat.

an opera. sitting on his lap with him inside of you, dress covering the indecent act as he shoves your panties to the side (only worn in case he finishes—can't have his cum dripping down your thigh when you go out to eat, can you?) and sinks in deep with a little groan muffled into your neck.

soon, he'll refuse to let you sit anywhere that isn't his lap. on his cock. you almost get caught a few times (and maybe you do) but John's influence is all-consuming and no one bats an eye when he starts to bounce you on his lap in an empty restaurant, hand curled over your mouth to keep any noise that spills out just for him. only for him.

if you think falling asleep without him inside of you is an option, then you should have thought about that before moving in because after he fucks you, he'll cradle you close, ignoring any protests about cleaning up. feigns sleep until you huff, giving in.

(you sleep better when he's inside of you, anyway.)

he's just utterly insatiable—and smitten, really—and it doesn't even feel much like training or conditioning when (he rings the dinner bell and) your mouth starts to water as he sits down, thighs spread wide enough for you slip between. nursing his cock the same way he carts his fingers across your nape, cradling the whiskey in his hand. staring down at you with a deep, ravenous hunger as you sigh around the thick of him, and rest your head on his lap.

(a bell echoes in your ear, but it's easy to ignore it because he was right, after all. this is where you belong.)